Given the ridiculously fiery temperatures here in Philly lately, I thought I’d cool us all off with a little humor ala Rodney Dangerfield and Henny Youngman…
It’s so hot I demanded to have my tonsils re-inserted just for the ice cream.
It’s so hot that the local wildlife formed a committee demanding access to my air conditioning. (To their credit, they made a strong, well thought-out concession by begrudgingly yet willingly use the toilet while simultaneously promising not to pee in my barbecue grill for the next 3 months. In return, I receive a year’s supply of acorns but I hadda agree to flush the aforementioned toilet insomuch as the little varmints can’t reach the flapper. Man did I get the better end of that deal!)
Speaking of wildlife, the owl outside my window went from saying “who” to saying “what the f#&k?”.
A local chef told me that the lobsters are now voluntarily jumping into the pot.
It’s so hot that even South America is making fun of us. (Hey, at least we’ve never had to resort to eating our shoelaces, man.) Actually and having said it, I think I’ll book a flight to Africa just to cool off for a week.
It’s so hot that I suddenly got the hallucination that Donald Trump is president.
Now should the power suddenly cut out, here’s a few vital steps that will need to be taken…
- Open the windows as to let as much fresh air as possible in.
- Fill your bathtub with fresh water before you lose that option too.
- Go looting. There’s a reason why we’re the greatest country in the world and we didn’t earn that distinction by sitting around being pansy-asses. (Anybody up for two hundred rolls of paper towels?)
As if things weren’t bad enough, I think that I finally figured the connection from David Bowie back down to Iggy Pop and the Stooges thru The Velvet Underground. They don’t sing. These bands vocalize their lyrics thru the spoken word or at least a sing-song version of it. To prove my point I’ll ask you to listen to Iggy Pop’s “Nightclubbing”, Velvet Underground’s “Pale Blue Eyes” and Bowie’s “The Jean Genie” which I, being a benevolent host, have conveniently supplied below…
I think the cool thing is that only took me 50 years to catch up with this concept.
Time to swim against the current a little. I know at this time of year, most parents are overjoyed that the kids are heading back to school. Not this parent. I love all of the things that the girls and I do all summer long. I love being outside with them. I love game nights that start at 9 o’clock at night. I love heading to the local park to shoot hoops with them. I love taking them to baseball games. I love hitting the beach with them. I love attending outdoor concerts with them. But, mostly, I love the freedom that summer allows. Childhood races by at blinding speed, and childhood summers race by even faster. I, for one, am in no hurry to see them end.
Yep, I have those memories too although I’ve hadda adjust mine to “stay the %#&* outta jail”.
Walter Becker of Steely Dan recently passed away so lemme see if I can hook you up with a good number here (below). Becker w/b the guy playing bass and singing in the background by the drum kit. He and singer/keyboardist Donald Fagen pioneered a lot of the music we hear today and yes, that’s Jeff “Skunk” Baxter on guitar for you Doobie Brothers fans.
I recently started mourning, while celebrating, the loss of great Americana traditions via the show “American Pickers” whereby the pickers find old motorcycles, jugs, art and other interesting memorabilia from people’s yards and barns, etc., displaying our past and how we got to the point we are today thru these objects.
This got me to thinkin’ about what treasures of the past I’d like to see make a comeback…
The Dunce Cap-Never heard of it? The Dunce Cap was used in elementary school to inspire lesser students to greater intellectual heights via ritual humiliation by seating the offending youngster in a chair at either the front or rear corner of the classroom while wearing a white, cone-shaped paper hat on his/her noggin that had the word “DUNCE” prominently displayed on the front of it. (Scarring kids for life wasn’t a big issue back then.)
The Hotfoot- Apparently this was a big hoot during World War II. Here’s how it works: If you notice that a friend, comrade, etc. has fallen asleep barefoot in your presence then the only thing to do (apparently) was to stick a lit match between two of his toes and wait patiently while the flame makes it way to skin contact. The resulting hilarity involves the subject waking and suddenly hopping around like some kind of nitwit while screaming like a banshee. Unfortunately, the targeted individual didn’t always quite see things in line with the intended humorous effect often resulting in a fistfight.
Working on Your Own Car- Yeah, yeah, people still do this but not like before. Dinging your finger on the fan, spitting out black fluid from an ill-advised posture during an oil change or being semi-electrocuted resulting in temporary loss of consciousness while dealing with vehicle issues was a rite of passage back in the day. It’s a man thing. Having black, oily, severe looking, emergency room-level cuts made you more of a man provided it didn’t kill ya. Nowadays you’ll be needing such ultra expensive, sophisticated equipment and such intensive training that the average backyard mechanic just can’t compete.
Music- Don’t get me wrong here. I LOVE seeing my favorite bands on YouTube while equally digging some of the new bands (big fan of the Pretty Reckless) and I don’t know what heaven’s like but I think I’d like to scan the radio, dealing with static only to hear “Hey WHAY listeners! Here’s newest number from Buddy Holly!” While I was used to scouting around my transistor radio, hearing static in my dialing search and getting frustrated from time to time, I still miss hitting a gem. Nope, Buddy Holly died before I was even born but his legacy ultimately made me want the experience all the more (and again).