Humor

If I’m Chopped Liver, Then You’re Bologna

/ Ally Bean / 10 Comments

Some situations provoke me to the point of regressing to my EIGHT YEAR OLD LITTLE GIRL SELF… mouthing off… under my breath… to myself… about someone.

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To wit, as I may or may not have mentioned before, I live in a suburb that is non-friendly.  People are neutral about other people.  Pleasant, but indifferent.  Aware, but detached.  Previously polite to a fault.

This I can live with.

But what I cannot condone is rudeness.  And that is what I’m finding more often when I go outside for a walk.

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For example, yesterday as I was walking along – up & down the hills – around the curves, I said “hi” or “hello” to all the people who I passed.  I exhibited a modicum of good manners.

I. Was. Nice.

People with headphones nodded at me.  People talking on phones waved hello.  People with dogs shouted a greeting back at me.  People just out for a stroll said “hi” or “hello” back to me as I walked by them.

However, people reading their smart phones as they walked along – up & down the hills – around the curves IGNORED ME.

Besides the obvious fact that it’s foolhardy to not pay attention to where you’re going when you’re walking along – up & down the hills – around the curves, it is rude to not acknowledge the person who is near you in real life.

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As we all know, REJECTION HURTS.

So naturally, being the mature adult that I am, I started talking to myself about this boorish behavior.  My muttering monologue went something like this…

ADULT ME [sarcastic, through clenched teeth]: Well, don’t say anything to me.  Just. Being. Polite.

CHILD ME [insulted]: Hey, hey– what’s wrong with you, you poopy head?

ADULT ME [irritated]: Boy, I tell you, Ally– you try to be nice & see what you get?

CHILD ME [frantic]: Hey booger face, I’m over here.  What am I?  Chopped liver? Huh?!

ADULT ME [resigned, with a sigh]: Whatever.  Some people aren’t even worth the bother.

CHILD ME [zinging away]: Well, well, well… if I’m chopped liver, then you’re bologna.  Cut thick.  Just like you, fatso!

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Bottom line truth of this story?  I LOVED BEING SNOTTY RIGHT BACK AT THESE PEOPLE.  Granted, the conversation was only in my head, but it was lots of fun to mouth off like that.  Kind of a forgotten pleasure of childhood– empowering & entertaining.

SO THERE.

The Deer Ate My Pansies

/ Ally Bean / 8 Comments

Last week on this day I wrote about how I was happy and pleased because we had planted some true blue pansies by the sidewalk leading up to our front door.  Today I am saddened to tell you, my gentle readers, that last Friday night the deer ate 70% of my special, pretty pansies.

Apparently the deer were having their very own T.G.I.F. party out in front of our house.  And they didn’t even invite us.  SNOBS.

This experience reminds me of a Bible verse: “Pride goeth before Destruction, and Haughtiness goeth before the Fall.”  

[Don’t know where that is in the Bible, but I know it’s there.  My mother used to say that every so often.  While not a church lady by any stretch of the imagination, she knew all sorts of Bible quotes that she used, along with French phrases + literary quotes, to keep me on the straight and narrow.  Or to confuse me, thereby slowing me down as I sauntered along the crooked and wide.]

So yesterday morning Z-D and I went to Lowe’s to buy some average, run-of-the-mill pansies.  We bought one 6-pack of pansies with yellow/brown faces and one 6-pack of pansies with purple/white faces.  We came home and planted them all mixed-up with the remaining true blue pansies that the deer were too full to eat.

THEN Zen-Den gave the whole mess of pansies a thorough spraying with Liquid Fence, Deer & Rabbit Repellent.  Or as I call it– the deer stink stuff.

All of which means that our flowers look lovely from afar, but smell icky when you walk by them.  I believe that Fernando Lamas would approve of this solution to our deer/pansy problem.  In fact, I can imagine him saying that it is better to look good than it is to smell good.

Yes, my pansies: “You look MAHVELOUS!” 

[There’s more to the story.  Click here.]

The Naming Of Crickets Is An Easy Matter

/ Ally Bean / 14 Comments

[This is a random post if there ever was one.  H/T to T. S. Eliot for the inspiration for the title.]

When I think of crickets, I think of three things.

1.  The Big Bang Theory.  There’s a cricket in our basement.  The cricket in our basement is noisy.  At about 10:00 p.m. each evening our little cricket friend ramps up his chirping.  I think that he is a he– and that he is trying to attract any lady crickets who might be around.

Of course I could be wrong about our little cricket friend’s motive because I learned most of what I know about crickets from an episode of The Big Bang Theory.  That’s how I got edumacated on this subject.

• • •

2.  Jiminy Cricket.  Once I realized that our little cricket friend was living with us inside our house, I named him for Disney’s famous cartoon cricket, Jiminy Cricket.  Then I set out to find a video with Jiminy.

The video I found features Jiminy as host and is about “How To Have Fun Safely.”  I remember seeing this cartoon when I was a kid.  Jiminy wants me to live to be 83.  And to not be a fool.  And other assorted things that I may or may not have done throughout my lifetime.

Somehow, after viewing this video, I get the feeling that Jiminy would not be the sort of cricket who, now that I’m an adult, would meet me for a cocktail.  He seems a bit judgmental and uptight to me.  Just a little bit too know-it-all-y.

• • •

3.  Buddy Holly and the Crickets.  I remember once upon a time, in the early years of our marriage, we received a housewarming gift that was a good luck brass cricket for our hearth.  I felt that the cricket was a cute, whimsical gift with wonderful symbolism;  I majored in English Lit.  Zen-Den, an Econ/Business major, thought it was dumb.

I don’t remember who gave us that gift because it was a long time ago.  Although not as long ago as when there were “Rock and Roll Specialists” singing about a girl named Peggy Sue.  Which, now that I think about it, is the name that I’d give the cricket in the basement if I thought he was a she.

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So, Can You Do This?

/ Ally Bean / 17 Comments

When I read the article that included The 20 Most Commonly Used Words, I knew what was required of me.  [5]

Obviously, it was a challenge to use these words in one succinct blog post– just for the fun of it.  [6]

He who wrote this article might not have envisioned my response, but those of you who know and love me will understand immediately.  [6]

This is one of those activities that anyone, with a bit of gumption, can do on his or her blog;  so I did it.  [3]

[Source of inspiration for this little foray into nerdy silliness is an interesting article: “Your Use of Pronouns Reveals Your Personality” by James W. Pennebaker in the Harvard Business Review, December, 2011.  Click here.]