COMIN’ HOME. That biggish schoolbus-size Chinese space satellite is expected to come down during the Easter weekend. Once before, I expressed fears that it would fall upon the M&Ms Peanut Factory and wipe out the world’s supply of that particular product right here at the end of Lent.
If it falls on your place (and let me admit right here that the possibilities are about as slim as the Hogs winning a game in the NCAA tournament) you should not touch the wreckage, nor sniff any fumes.
And, the article also said that no matter where the object falls it is STILL the property of China. Wha?
I am hereby advising you to LIE if our government or the Chinese ask if that funny looking pile of smoking junk on your patio is the Chinese satellite (the satellite has a funny Chinese-sounding name which I can neither pronounce nor speel).
If it falls in my yard I’m not going to give it back until the Chinese finally ship me the hardboiled egg thingy I ordered five weeks ago and haven’t heard from since.
My great regret is that the Chinese now have my credit card information, my shipping address and they know my preference in eggs.
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A SCRAPPER REUNION. A group of guys who were classmates at Nashville High School in the late-1950s-mid-1960s have been gathering twice a year, for several years, for a cookout and lie-telling reunion at a cabin at Camp Albert Pike.
The cabin is owned by Tommy Younk, an all-sports standout Scrapper athlete and member of the under-achieving class of 1960. The turnout attracts about two dozen guys, and nowadays the attendees are mostly retired. They are all Scrapper alums except for one token Saratoga Bulldog. There’s a practicing physician, a guy that flew jet fighters in Vietnam, a preacher, several retired teachers and coaches. Unfortunately, our number seems to shrink every year.
I drove up for the event with a classmate Saturday morning. He and I noted the large amount of trash and debris both on the highway and in the ditches. I called the radio dispatcher here to report the stuff on the roadway, thinking it might be a little dangerous. We didn’t stop to clear the way ourselves because both my passenger and I are too fat and old to bend over and pick up stuff and dodge oncoming traffic at the same time.
The debris continued all the way ‘up’ to the turnoff into the southwest Arkansas district landfill. And there was more. Trash was everywhere on the Pike County side, too.
When we drove back five hours later there was still trash, so my call to the dispatcher was probably just laughed off. I’m glad no one swerved to avoid some junk and had a wreck.
Attention county judges and sheriffs: The roadsides to the landfill are in dire need of some community service workers.
My passenger is part detective, and he deduced that the littererererer was probably an improperly covered large trash truck, not an individual who was cleaning out an overstuffed storage room.
If my plans fall through for getting deputized as Nashville’s Certified Downtown J-Turn Enforcement Officer, I can always hope for a position as Waste District Litter Investigator. I’ll still get to wear a swell camo uniform and a have a bonafide concealed firearm permit.
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THE GOOD EARTH. Blooming in subtle pink majesty in the front yard is my birthday Japanese Cherry Blossom Tree. It was a present from daughter Julie in 2001. The attack on the Twin Towers occurred on the day before my birthday. The tree was traveling in the U.S. Postal system, and when the mails were shut down the tree was banished to a corner of some Postal center for a couple of weeks.
Mails began to move again and the tree was delivered, very ragged-looking.
In fact, I assumed that it had probably died in the delay. But I put it in the ground anyway.
Lucky me. If you’ll look real quick you can enjoy those quiet pink petals. But they’ll be gone soon.
The tree is a cutting from one of the original Japanese Cherry Blossom trees given to the American people by the emperor of Japan after WWI. Those trees were planted in Washington, D.C., where they continue to be an attraction.
Thanks again, daughter.
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THINGS I LEARNED from opening email. The reason Mayberry was so peaceful and quiet was because nobody was married. Andy, Aunt Bea, Barney, Floyd, Howard, Goober, Gomer, Sam, Earnest T Bass, Helen, Thelma Lou, Clara and, of course, Opie were all single. The only married person was Otis, and he stayed drunk.
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WORD GAMES. The twins: Sea and Shore. Never apart; always touching. One is solid, one is not. One is wet, one is dry.
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HE SAID: “I don’t think Othello is a jealous man — he is a man who has been deceived by another person, just as everybody in the play is deceived by that person … The playwright uses the word ‘jealousy’ over and over and over again, but I don’t think it has anything to do with being jealous.” Laurence Fishburne, actor, talking about Shakespeare’s play
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SHE SAID: “Who you are as a person will only be amplified once you are ‘famous,’ so if you had a good heart, then I would imagine you’ll have the same good heart but the means to do even more with it.” Meghan Markle, future princess of England
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SWEET DREAMS, Baby
