Loonie Moon #3

I Thessalonians 5:18

Living life with God is an adventure, you never know what's around the corner.

Loonie Moon #2

My Holiday Bete Noire

Ahh, Christmas Carols. Some love them, some love to hate them. Some are superb others absurd. They are overplayed, re-made, re-mixed and regurgitated every year. There is one Christmas Carol in particular that fits all of the above descriptions and grates on my nerves no matter which way the spin doctors of Christmas music try to polish the message.

It brings the sarcastic Scrooge out in me and my verbal rants spew their dissatisfaction on the piece every time I hear it. When the offending carol plays on the radio it has caused me to fly down the stairs at lighting speed to mute the clatter, with my family's eyes opened wide asking, "what is the matter?"

"Oh, I'm glad you asked, for I'm willing to share why The Little Drummer Boy is the bane of my Christmas Holiday.

My Sentiments Exactly

First, this whole song is an anachronism of great error.  Do you remember a drummer boy in the account of Jesus' birth?

Of course, I know one can write any scenario they want in the great realm of music creativity. We have a gamut of imaginary carols in the whole Holiday music library; Rudolph, Santa, Frosty the Snowman but the Little Drummer Boy sneaks his way into the Greatest Story Ever Told and it chaps my hide.

Let's just be frank here and talk about reality. I'll set the scene just to give a proper backdrop. Mary and Joseph have a baby, they are new parents, sleep is high on their priority list. The new schedule of having a newborn demands, feeding, bathing, hushing, burping and when the sweet baby is finally asleep the parents sigh in relief and are ready for bed themselves.

Along comes the Little Drummer Boy and rat-a-tat-tats his way into their life as a gift. Come on, no parent in their right mind would nod in approval as it says Mary does in the song. If I was Mary I would tell Joseph to go find out what all that racket was and shut it up as quick as possible.

And when Joseph found out the source of the headache creating 'pa rum pum pum pum' pulse beat, he'd be a smart husband and father to pay the poor boy off and tell him to scram.

Now that the anachronism part of the song lyrics are explained let's get to the actual song. I've about had it after the first chorus of 'pa rum pum pum pum.' What kind of writer makes you listen to that over and over again?

How about throwing in a few, 'da, da da dats', or 'crash, bang booms' for the variety!

OK, I've said my two cents, I've got it out of my system. I hope you can laugh at my little Holiday Carol 'bete noire'. Heck, maybe you've got your own Christmas song pet peeve and can relate.  I'd love to here about them.

I'll end this blog post with a little Drum Punchline

The Wicked Deviled Egg

'Wicked in Waiting'
Photo by: stephendepolo

You started off as the epitome of a good egg; hard boiled, firm and strong. Then you split in two showing your true inner self. You mixed company with your crumbled yellow yolk and it was not good company. You let the red onion overly influence you with its feisty, mean ways and the garlic permeated you through and through. On the outside you looked creamy, delicious; dare I say, even angelic. You sat there with your smooth texture tempting me to come and taste. I gave in, sinking my teeth into the soft, supple, slick white and my teeth felt like they were gently being set on a cloud as they sunk in the whipped, creamy, yellow middle. My tongue swirled your tasty goodness in my mouth savoring every last ingredient before giving heed to the throat begging for its turn, then I swallowed.

Yes, you satisfied my taste buds, then your wickedness, your duality presented itself deep within me. I could hear your evil cackling laughter down in my gut at your success into duping another fool into your vehement torture. You were no ordinary deviled egg, you were wicked in waiting and you unleashed your true inner self on my digestive system.

I will never trust again.


NOTE: Here's hoping you have better luck with Easter Dinner appetizers than I do. I love deviled eggs but this past experience has caused me to question every one I see; somehow I find my forgiveness for food is blind and I will try these tantalizing amuse-gueules again and again. I just can't seem to stay away, that past batch was bad but I'm not going to let it spoil deviled eggs for me.

What are some of your favorite deviled egg recipes?

Anger On Tap

I was rummaging through boxed up memories I have deep in the attic when I came across some old journals, I was skimming through them laughing at some of the youthful, sometimes silly, sometimes profound things I thought about as a young girl. Underneath the juvenile volumes I saw my black tap shoes and brought them out of the box to show my daughter a relic from my past. Dancing was my youthful passion and it flooded me with sentimental, good feelings. It also brought up a saying I like to fling out there in jest when someone in the family has a bad encounter during the day. They'll tell of their humiliating ordeal and I'll quip in a mobster tone, "You want I go do a tap dance on their head." At least it makes them smile for a moment.

Photo by: Chandra Brown

My little saying got me thinking about the advice that abounds for releasing anger and stress in this crazy, rat-race, non-stop world. Doctors say exercise, religion says meditate, mothers say take deep breaths, psychiatrists say talk about it, educators say listen to calming music.  This advice has one common thread, divert the negative energy elsewhere.

I asked my daughter how she deals with anger and stress, she says, "Kick something or ripping up paper helps her. "

This woman says, use humor to divert that negative energy. Do the opposite of what you're feeling and turn that emotion upside down; Laugh instead.

What are some funny quips your family uses to get through the 'angries'?

Nancy Sinatra had her boots, Chandra has her tap shoes.

 

For more 'Anger Management' check out this funny song…click here.

Intelligence Quotient For Inanimate Objects

INTELLIGENCE QUOTIENT FOR INANIMATE OBJECTS

Rating Scale:

Not So Good             -----  >     Not So Smart

Not So Bad               -----  >      Retarded

Bad                           -----   >     Dumb

Worse                       -----   >     Stupid

Worst                        -----   >     POS

Worse Than Worst   -----   >     FU

Wrath of God           -----    >    Apocalyptic

Disclaimer:

The assigning of the I. Q. F. I. O is not a reflection of the individuals politically correct or incorrect views or is not an indicator of moral values, it is a totally relative bias for measuring personal knowledge of individual relationship between said inanimate object and said living entity.

Any misrepresentations, mis-understandings, legal, litigation, personal injury or general mental disparagement is solely, purposefully, absolutely the responsibility of the assignor.

The content of the material contained and the views expressed in this dissertation is not reflective of the egghead who penned said Intelligence Quotient, therefore, peruse and assimilate at your own risk.

General Usage Guidelines:

The rating scale embarks upon the lowest level of emotional output towards said object and progresses up the scale as the emotional agitation increases.

Users have experienced staccatoed vacillations within the varied scale causing neural lapses leading to cerebral exhaustion; although these episodes tend to be quite entertaining to spectators, the individual experiencing the episode may feel the emanation of utter mortification.

Proceed usage with caution.

Case In Point:

A cathartic montage for your I.Q.F.I.O pleasure.

Spawned from the brain of John Debee
with the embellishment assistance of Chandra Brown

The Progression Of The Cone

A pictorial review of the cone's fashion statement in history.

by: petercat.harris

The Ancients: Elongated Skulls were the FAB FAD

Practiced through cultures worldwide by binding the head to a board.  Notables such as the Incans, Mayans, Egyptians, Native Americans and Siberians left evidence of this coveted high verticed look. If you wanted that 'smarter than a bookworm' look, nix Coco Chanel and sport a board.

Image 120027, from Professor Giuseppe Orefici's research at Cahuachi (Peru), courtesy BBC Horizon (1998 program).

Nefertiti: Egyptian Queen

The Modish Medieval Model: When women shaving their bangs off for that elongated look was 'wenchin' 

                                                                     Portrait by: Rogier Ven Der Weyden

AND THEN... Cone fashion revisited the Dark Ages only to resurface again in the 20th Century with a downward spiral attached to its legendary fame surrounding superior intelligence. The cone now had an uncanny semblance to a waste basket.

Circa 1960: When rotating your hips to "The Twist" and sporting a Rocket hat was Hip; the cone makes a comeback, but as comebacks usually do, it flopped. Can you spot the infamous cone in this fashion spread?

                                                                                         Yeah, Baby!

The 90's seemed like a long tunnel with no point, the cone was still recovering from the bad rap it got from the 60's but the cone just may have reached its zenith in this decade.

                                                    The Coneheads from SNL

Somewhere on the timeline of human history the cone lost its mojo, it was demoted from its association with superior intelligence only to be cast in utter fashion faux pas for the weekend entertainment seeker.

Now maybe the cone can relate to Oblio, from the land of point.

                                                                        The Cone in the Corner

Pulp Fiction: The Bean Conspiracy

On my self directed journey to learn about nutrition I was way layed by an eye opening article uncovering the truth about that magical fruit we all attribute our bodily noise from the nether regions to; the fiberous bean.

Ahh, I might as well get it out of the way..

Everyone knows the well rhymed chant of childhood that causes uproarious giggles, finger-pointing and even proud admittance at the act of passing gas. The infamous Bean Song..the song that somehow became a legend through oral history and from generation to generation is unscathed by misinterpretation or incorrect wording only to live another day.

The Bean Song

by: Anonymous

(and probably wanted it that way)

Beans, beans the magical fruit

the more you eat, the more you toot,

the more you toot the better you feel,

so let's have beans for every meal.

(or this added line)

so lift your leg and let it squeal!

Let's break this conspiratorial message down line by line with what is truth and what is fiction..

Line 1: Beans, beans the magical fruit...TRUTH

It is common for most conspiracies to start out with a bit of truth, it makes it necessary for the targeted mind to succumb to the lie somewhere hidden or twisted into the plot. Beans really are quite magical, the way in which they grow is interesting in itself and their function in the human body is unique to the legume family. (more on this later) Of course, the well known English fairy tale Jack and The Beanstalk dictates the magical qualities in an entertaining fashion.

Line 2:  the more you eat, the more you toot...FALSE

This is where the conspiracy starts and I speculate the motivation behind this lie was fashioned by a parent to get their kid to eat their dinner which happened to involve beans. A parent will resort to humor in desperate attempts to get their kids to do what they want, my own humiliating experiences abound in my head as I write this. When a lie is outed, a fact must take its place. According to Karen Hurd Ph.D., Nutritionist and retired Army Captain, Beans Don't Cause Gas. The Bean Queen, as she is known amongst her colleagues and clients explains the reality of how gas is formed in our digestive system and how the bean actually is the regulator of this imbalance. (The entire article is worth the read, as she explains the process beautifully.)  She has had amazing results prescribing beans for health and has published a cookbook, suitably called The Bean Queen's Cookbook. 

Line 3: the more you toot the better you feel...TRUTH

I can't squabble on that one...when you gotta go, you better blow! Although, the lie is somewhat perpetrated further in this line.

Line 4: So let's have beans for every meal...TRUTH (with a condition)

If you have consistent flatulence problems beans up to six times a day is a curative method according to Karen Hurd's above mentioned article.

Maybe this post "spilled the beans" on a brilliant conspiracy to thwart and place blame on the innocent bean in order to get kids to eat their dinner. Ahh, when it comes down to it, this is one pulpy conspiracy I can live with...

The "conspiracy" lives on...

Why The Incredible Hulk Would Make A Great Politician And Take Care Of Business

photo by: flashbacks.com
The Late Bill Bixby

While searching for something good to watch recently, I ran across The Incredible Hulk Season One episodes on Netflix and added it to my queue. I clicked the add button with a passing nostalgia for when I was a kid in the 70's watching TV shows like The Dukes of Hazard, The Love Boat, Wonder Woman and The Hulk. I admittedly thought this is bad TV but it would be fun to go down entertainment memory lane just to see how bad that TV was.

I called my daughter Alex down from the computer virtual webworld she was playing in to see some good old fashioned entertainment. I told her watching The Hulk was a not to miss event when I was growing up, even though the only thing I remembered about the series was the picture of David Banner and Lou Ferrigno being split down the middle and The Hulk got angry a lot.

So I dared to click the watch button and needless to say we were sucked in and blew through the first season in record speed as my husband sat through a few episodes shaking his head at the absurdity and not from the kind on screeen but from his two girls. We were laughing yet still sucked into the story, high fiving every time David Banner transformed, predicting why he'd get angry and how many times an episode he'd Hulk Out.

Which led to us making a list of things that got The Hulk angry, (I know we have too much time on our hands)  As the list grew I noticed some parallels to the feelings flying around the all too unstable political realm and found a little parody gave a humorous relief of sorts. Ahh, the Seventies the decade looked back upon as comical fodder for so many genres found its use in entertaining me once again.

Alas, The Top Ten Reasons Hulk Would Make A Great  Politician And Take Care Of Business was born

Reason Number One: 
He would be able to run his campaign on the Family Forum. (Season 2, Episode 5: A Child In Need)

Reason Number Two:
He would be a Tough Union Buster (Season 1, Episode: Murder On The Waterfront)

Reason Number Three:
He has a messy relationship with reporters (All Seasons)

Reason Number Four: 
He understands the ramifications of a messed up health industry by personal experience, The congressional insurance package would cover his treatments to recovery.

Reason Number Five:
He loves the babies (Season 2, Episode 11: Life and Death :Minute 2:48)

Reason Number Six:
His National policy would be backed by his transient travel

Reason Number Seven:
Whiners and Bullies don't push him around in the end (Whiner: Season 1, Episode 1/2: Death In The Family: Minute 1:33)

Reason Number Eight:
He isn't Politically Correct (Season 2 Episode 3: Ricky Minute 1:40)

Reason Number Nine:
He's a true Altruist, although a misunderstood one (All Seasons)

Reason Number Ten:
He takes Action NOW and get's RESULTS

He even has his Campaign tag line ready to go...
Don't make me angry, You don't want to see me when I'm angry!"
And his ad for campaigning

HULK 2012

Note: He'd have to work on his gun control

8' Above Sea Level

Camping on Mustang Island, Texas/ September 2010

A Little History: The earliest known inhabitants of Mustang Island were Karankawa Indians, known for their fierceness and cannibalism. The Karankawas were a hunter-gatherer people, and depended heavily on shellfish and mussels for food. Encountered first by Spanish explorers, the Karankawas survived in the region until the 19th century. The island was first named "Wild Horse Island," then "Mustang," because of the wild horses, called "Mestenos," brought to the island by the Spaniards in the 1800s.

Nathan and Alex Surfing

I find it amusing this islands height above sea level is slightly taller than a man, yet it has weathered storms and hurricanes and is still there. One fun historic fact about the island is the storm that sunk Spanish ships in 1553,quickly capsizing three vessels and displacing or wrecking thirteen others, some of which had treasure on board.

This years camping trip included fun in the sun with family and friends and a few challenges to break us in to outdoor life.

We got camp set-up and the kids played in the sand and waves all day, we did better this year with the constant multiple applications of sunscreen and only had a few spots that got sunburned. We were doing pretty good at our usual sitting, bumming and being plain lazy on the beach. The kids chased and caught crabs, they surfed and made it to the standing position.  We ate like kings, Smoked Ribs with Homemade bean chili, S'Mores roasted over the fire pit, a full breakfast; bacon, eggs, potatoes and French pressed coffee. Living it up gourmet style on the beach. We should have had a clam bake the way we were going.  The it started to get a little windy. Nothing we couldn't handle and it did help the surfing, but darn it after a while, the peristent blowing gets on your nerves. It kicks up the sand and of course, in our laxidaisical coma we forgot to zip tent doors, or close truck tail gates which house ALL your belongings. Dinner became a fight to keep sand out of the cooking zone and utensils from flying off into the dunes. We even spotted a water funnel in the not so far off clouds and were relieved when it dissipated.  Then our sweet friends who showed up that day after a 4 hour trip and just barely finished setting up camp had to leave because their youngest had severe diaper rash. Poor baby! The wind picked up and was blowing tents into a concave, so we improvised by taking off the topper to let airflow help make the tent more stable, it worked until midnight when it started to rain and soak us. So we scrambled in the wind and rain to put the tent topper back on while the dog slips out the door and I'm yelling, "Odie, come here!" as I wake up the campers next to us.  We weather it (LITERALLY) through the night. In the morning we notice the storm surge took out the road leaving seaweed at the tires of our vehicle. We start packing up camp in a downpour that not only soaks everything but adheres half the beach to whatever is wet, which is EVERYTHING! Oh ya, did I forget to mention Nathan's truck was stuck in the sand too, (for the second time) adding to the mess. Well I'm here writing this so that tells ya we made it out. The first time the ranger pulled the truck out, the second time we were lucky, the wet sand was a benefit, it gave enough traction to get us out of there. Oh ya and did I mention we were searching for our camping campanions lost truck keys...talk about a needle in a haystack. No, we didn't leave them in high water...they were able to avert several mini heart attacks and a lot of financial stress and found their keys hiding from them in a very conspicuous spot in the tent.

Think it's over, not yet! We get home and are so plumb tired we do the bare minimum; take the cooler out and put away still usable food and throw some clothes in the laundry. We catch up on some rest and try to ignore the mountian of mess we know we have to take care of later, thinking tomorrow will be a better day to think about it. Well, that storm followed us up to Austin and you guessed it the forecast shows rain for the next 2 days. I thought about leaving the mess for a sunnier day but after opening the tailgate and smelling the stench of saltwater, sand, plastic, and smoke, did I mention sand already? I couldn't leave the mess in there. So I haul a truck load of debris, onto the driveway in sheets of rain, grab the hose and go nutty like a fireman on a five alarm fire and spray every last thing down. (Yes, I had to set the tent back up to get it clean) A few neighbors drove by and a police car...I'm sure they were wondering what the lady that looked like a drowned cat was doing in the middle of a thunderstorm breaking all water conservation rules was up to. I really thought the cop was going to stop and write me a ticket just for the absurdity of it all.

I am proud to say there is a garage full of clean camping items and I conquered this camping trip. The  pestering wind and gritty sand could have had a bad influence on our attitudes but I am happy to say we all worked together and had a GREAT time despite it all.

Let's See What's In Store For Next Year!.......We are still here....

The Angry Angst..

Have you ever stayed up too late at night, so late that a minuscule word or action can set you off in a fit of crying, tear-rolling, silent, open-mouthed laughter. Laughter...wait, isn't this post supposed to be about pent up anger? Stay with me for a moment longer as I give you small glimpse into my somewhat abstract world of thinking. The following story is true and I love how certain moments such as this one stick with you, make you chuckle and drop-in your thoughts every now in then just to amuse and remind you that funny late night episodes can have life enduring lessons attached.
My fun-loving, competitive Father and I were up late at his house attempting to smack down the Pro Tennis Competition in Doubles on Wii. We were up against a couple that looked like they just walked out of the nerd factory, my dad and I glanced over at each other sweat dripping down our temples and mutually thought, "We can lick these Dweebs!" We had some power serves and good net play, they were in for it. We served first and volleyed a bit winning the first point, giving us the jolt of victory we smugly had pegged. We loved the play back feature and would point and laugh as the opponent swung at our fire blaze returns and miss by a mile. Seeing the little guy run, reach for the ball then come sliding head first across the hard, green surface watching his glasses break and the whirly cloud of dust rise above him as he came to a stop had us in fits of laughter. We talked smack and let out our adrenaline on the poor couple crushing them under our skill. The frustration was hovering above their heads as we defeated them. "Oooo" my dad said, "I've never seen them angry before." Which got us belly laughing at the angst we caused.
Now for those who don't know my dad, he is good at the poetic word and when he said that last sentence I knew there was a poem ready to be born. I said, "That poor guy is going to have to deal with an angry angst the rest of his life because of us." And that is how the poem came to be.
Read it now and see that it truly has a good life lesson born from absurdity....

The Angry Angst

A boiling cauldron in my deep

it bothers me in my sleep

prodded, poked and teased from youth

A constant conflict of deceit and truth.

being labeled with geeks, queers or nerds

or deluged by discouraging words

being picked on, having my ego spanked

has steeped this stew of angry angst.

How to handle this conflict within

attitude , genetics or original sin.

Do I throw a rage and toss a fit

or collect my self and get over it?

Anger trapped will rot your bones

and the resolution rests with you alone

So turn it down, reduce the clatter.

In a hundred years it just won't matter.

GET OVER IT!

by: John Debee