To Weed or Not to Weed

Here’s the deal.

I live in a  modest house with a modest yard and a bumper crop of weeds.

For years upon years while I have lived here I have always savored October through May since the weeds were non-existent. In fact, when late September rolled around I gave up pulling weeds and let them have the run of the yard.  The growing season was over and the not growing season was hard upon us.

This year I have decided to be done as in done as in I ain’t pullin’ no more weeds anymore.

Here are the plusses – no watering, no mulching, we need all the oxygen we can get these days from green living and growing plants.

Also – Weeds are green, a pleasing color to be sure, some of them sport flowers and lovely names  – Queen Anne’s Lace anyone?  ( note to self – look her up).

One person’s weeds are another person’s greenery and ground cover.  And what makes it a weed anyway?  Are weeds inherently bad or evil?  Nope.

One man’s ceiling is another man’s floor.

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Yesterday’s Doughnuts

I seem to have my ears tuned to words and phrases you normally don’t hear spoken in the same sentence.  Take the title, for example.

I was loading out a show ( still being a stagehand and all) and I noticed a large flat box with about a half dozen doughnuts in a container that easily could hold twice that number.

Never one to pass up a free treat I asked no one in particular if those doughnuts had arrived today.  The reply from someone who knew was that they were Yesterday’s Doughnuts.

I draw a line at any food that’s been sitting out for over 24 hours but several of my fellow stagehands ( musicians are worse when it comes to free leftovers – I know, I speak from personal experience) apparently and in fact have no such compunctions as the remaining and day old doughnuts were gone by the time we loaded the truck and left the hall.

I mean it’s not like anyone was eating raw cookie dough or anything like that.  People eat raw fish and other not cooked seafood.

I do confess to one time at a load out after a party for the local hoi-polloi there was a stack of what we called “Seven Dollar Cupcakes.” As in seven bucks apiece at least.  We were looking at a hundred dollar stack of treats.  Stagehands tend to develop a keen sixth sense about what’s good, what’s not good, what is still edible and what’s not.

These cupcakes fell into the “We better eat these before the owners come back” category.

The pastries were only a couple of hours old and had been abandoned by their previous owners because those previous owners were way too drunk to remember their own names let alone how much really expensive food they had left behind.

Previous owners.  There’s another one.  Like previously owned cars.  Really.

Previously owned means used as in used cars.  Think of them as previously abused autos or previously enjoyed.

One more – At NASCAR races the teevee talkers will say that a driver or drivers involved in an on track mishap are taken to and checked out at the Infield Care Center.

It’s an EMERGENCY ROOM that’s what it is.  But Care Center sounds so much more benign and like something the gang in marketing cooked up.

” Yup, they loaded up Bobby Whomever in the ambulance and took him straight to the ER.”  Not good.

” Gave him a lift to the Care Center.”  There you go.  No muss, no fuss.

Finally, a brief conversation with a friend this afternoon.  The topic escapes me but the guy pleaded ignorance as in ignorance is bliss.

I say ignorance will not hold up in a court of law.  I used to watch ” Law and Order” and Perry Mason is back on the  tube.

And he says, this is a beaut, he says, ” How about a quart of beer?”

I got nothing.

I scramble, keg, ale, my mind is racing and eventually I end up at the Infield Care Center Emergency Room with a bad case of Yesterday’s Doughnuts.

 

 

 

 

Funny Noises

My car is starting to act funny. …

Not funny as in Ha, Ha funny.

Funny as in expensive noises.  Aren’t all noises from the front end or rear end or any place in between expensive?

I’m  taking the car in tomorrow expecting the expensive worst.  That way I won’t be surprised when I get a bill for $800 in real, not funny money.

A Subaru, a Toyota and a Chevy walk into a bar…

Shanghai Calling

Robo calls.  All over the place anymore.

I got a call yesterday from the 212 area code which I know is New York City.  Hey, I’m from New York – maybe it’s someone I know.

I accept the call.  I say hello.

The voice on the other end starts speaking in Chinese.  Is the call from New York or China – I don’t know and I listen to the entire spiel hoping that at some point a smattering of english emerges but it never does.

I block the caller even though it probably is someone’s legit phone number belonging to a real person.  How do you say blocked in Chinese?

I read recently that these miserable people are now using your own number to call you on your phone.

The phone rings, it’s your number, it’s you but it can’t be you because why would you call yourself to threaten yourself with the IRS coming to take your house unless you send them Wal-Mart gift cards.

Is the Central bank now running on debit cards?  Well, yes it is but not on ones from major retailers.

Here’s the Jeopardy question of the day for that Mr. Smarty Pants on teevee.

Can you block your own number on your own phone?  And what are the ramifications?  What if everyone and I mean everyone blocked their own phone numbers?

Does China go out of business?  Does the Fed go belly up?  Does Wal-Mart make even more money selling stuff imported from China in spite of tariffs?

Oh wait, the phone is ringing… I’ll get back to ya.  If that really is you…