Get Ready For HUSBAND APPRECIATION DAY

You may recall that in my last post on April 14th (LET’S CALL IT A DAY), I took exception to the fact that a person of nil repute actually did call it a day (namely, INTERNATIONAL MOMENT OF LAUGHTER DAY ). Today, I humbly take back my ‘exception-taking’ by admitting there is an exception to the reason I took exception to what I took exception to, because the day after tomorrow is the exception of all exceptions: HUSBAND APPRECIATION DAY….a day of such exceptional exceptionalism that it doesn’t matter who proclaimed it. Frankly, I don’t know — or even care — who proclaimed it (though I’m pretty sure it wasn’t my wife).

Yes, brother husbands, there’s a day set aside for us to finally be shown the respect we so richly deserve. For too long, we husbands have been taken for granted, like henpecked clucks, while our wives get all the glory. Don’t get me wrong — I love my wife as much as the next “Yes, dear” guy, but is it asking too much to be appreciated for all we do that’s above our pay grade? For example, the other evening I took out the kitchen trash, even though she could’ve sat on it to squish it down, creating enough space for the half dozen beer bottles I’d be emptying before the night was o’er. I did so even though I had a good notion to suggest that she might as well go on a diet if she’s not going to put her fat butt to the good use I had in mind. If that’s not showing restraint and consideration, I don’t know what is.

My fellow Lords and Masters of our domains: good husbands like me (and, I presume, you) don’t grow on trees. We know that our wives could have done a lot worse than us. Therefore, why shouldn’t we expect them to overlook our few minor foibles and appreciate us for the paragons of postpubescence we are? It’s time they realize how very lucky they are to have found us, because….

P.S. Please put down that frying pan, honey buns — you know I’m just kidding, don’t you?

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LET’S CALL IT A DAY

Half the world doesn’t see how the other half can see anything funny in what it laughs at. –Evan Esar

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As if there isn’t enough funny business going on in the world, today is INTERNATIONAL MOMENT OF LAUGHTER DAY. I don’t know who came up with this day (actually, I do…. but he’s not famous, so let’s let him rest in peace, even if he’s still with us). My point is, what is this world coming to if anyone and their Aunt Charlie can proclaim a DAY (an INTERNATIONAL day, no less) and expect it to be recognized? Well, I have half a mind to proclaim a DAY myself, which certainly makes me qualified. INTERNATIONAL HALF-WIT DAY, that’s what I’ll call it. I wonder if The Donald, if he hears of it, will deny it’s in his honor.

Meanwhile, back at the wench, it’s time for those poems I promised last time:

BUSYBODY BERATES BUSY BODY; BEELZEBUB BLASÉ

“Say, have you been, sir, to Kathmandu?”
“Nay, but I have sinned, sir, in Timbuktu.”
“A tale of sin, sir? What did you do?”
“Sailors would blush, sir, if I told you.”
“My lips are hushed, sir — how ’bout a clue?”
“Maidens of sin, sir, were none too few.”
“May God rescind, sir, the sins you knew.”
“I do not pray, sir, those sins to rue.”
“Then may you pay, sir, the devil’s due!”
“Satan would say, sir, c’est entre nous!”

THE ORIENT EXCESS

One fine night in old Hong Kong,
White-skinned lady meet Mr. Wong.
Mr. Wong say, “You fine missy.
Let me favor you with kissy.”
White-skinned lady say not to bother —
Wong old enough to be her father.
Mr. Wong say, “But I got money.”
White-skinned lady say, “Kiss me, honey!”
Well, one fine thing lead to another;
Next time, Wong bring older brother.
This time, lady draw line tight:
“You know two Wongs don’t make a white.”

And with that, ladies, what do you say….

ZEE POET OR ZEE COMIC – WHICH EEZ MORE MORONIC?

In my April Fools’ Day post, I noted that April is NATIONAL HUMOR MONTH. As a poet of sorts, wouldn’t it be funny if April also happened to be NATIONAL POETRY MONTH?

Well, as you might guess,
it turns out that, yes,
that is the case….
and this is the place
where poetry and funny
join together as oney
until death do them party
or are doomed from the starty
by comic rigor mortis
or a poet out of sortis.

Oui, mon ami — this is going to be a post which joins zee art of zee poet with zee art of zee comic, and if you don’t like zee combinaison, you can lump eet. What’s more, I’ll do more such posts, zee likes of which will have you begging for merci. So if you know what’s not good for you, you’ll take eet and like eet….or take eet and fake eet. I’m not particular. (I’m also not hungry — I think I eet too much.)

Understand, I’m not one of those poets who doesn’t understand what he has written, but somehow expects zee reader to. Non, mon ami, I understand perfectly what I have written. It’s YOU who I expect hasn’t a clue. Why is that true? I have no clue. And, frankly my dear, I don’t give a fous (pardon my French).

Unfortunately, I see that my allotted time for this post is almost up, so zee funny poems I was going to publish here must wait until next time, for which I apologize. Thank you for your very kind attention….or, as zee Hoosier Hot Shots more etiquettely and poetically put it:

MORE “WHO KNEW THEY COULD SING?” STARS

My last post included a clip of Bette Davis singing — adding to previous clips of Golden Age Hollywood stars Jimmy Stewart and Alan Ladd, who few knew could sing. But wait! There’s more! Thanks to the magic of the silver screen, I’ve uncovered more black & white clips of bygone Hollywood heartthrobs who sang like nobody’s business, and I’ve made it my business to offer the first of these hidden gems to you for a song (and dance):

Thank you, Fred Astaire (alias Clark Gable). Next, we have another hunk from OUT OF THE PAST, Robert Mitchum, whose very next picture, RACHEL AND THE STRANGER (1948), includes this scene with co-stars Loretta Young and William Holden:

We bring down the curtain on this triple feature with that devil-may-care swashbuckler and fun-hero of such films as CAPTAIN BLOOD, THE ADVENTURES OF ROBIN HOOD, and THE SEA HAWK, Errol Flynn:

What’s that you say — you didn’t get your bloody money’s worth?  Well, that’s a laugh. You should thank your lucky stars for what you jolly well get!

 

 

THREE FOR THE SHOW

It’s not every day that it’s the birthday of three ‘giants’ of Hollywood’s Golden Age, but this is such a day: Bette Davis, born April 5, 1908; Gregory Peck, born April 5, 1916; and Spencer Tracy, born April 5, 1900.

This post will not go into biographical detail. The lives of these legends can easily be Googled by anyone who’s interested. Instead, I will focus on something about each of them which I (and, hopefully, you) find particularly interesting or appealing.

In previous posts, I included clips of two film stars singing — Jimmy Stewart and Alan Ladd — who few knew ever sang in a movie. To those unlikely vocalists, I add the Oscar-winning actress BETTE DAVIS, whose fourth & final husband, Gary Merrill, once said, “whatever Bette would have chosen to do in life, she would have had to be the top or she couldn’t have endured it.” I think you will find this WWII-era vocal more than endurable:

In his 1979 book THE WORLD’S GREAT MOVIE STARS AND THEIR FILMS, Ken Wlaschin says GREGORY PECK “has been the Great Liberal of the American cinema for more than 30 years because he usually conveys conflicts in social values, forced to act in a manner disturbing to his inner morality.” He is perhaps best remembered for his role as Atticus Finch in To Kill A Mockingbird. Here he is with Audrey Hepburn in a scene from one of my favorite Peck films, Roman Holiday:

Last but not priest (overlooking his role as Father Flanagan in Boys’ Town — pardon the pun), we have “the actors’ actor,” Spencer Tracy. I’ve covered Tracy before (in my 6/5/17 post as the star of Bad Day at Black Rock); for this post, I’ll go with this retrospective:

For me, the most memorable moment from that clip is his answer to this Burt Reynolds question:

“Mr. Tracy, you’re so good at everything. Is there anything you’re not good at?”

“Life.”

 

I CAN’T USE IT

Today being April Fools’ Day, and April being National Humor Month, I thought I’d write a funny post. The problem is that I’m having problems writing a funny post. Either the jokes I find are losers, or I don’t ‘get’ them (obviously, if I don’t get them, they can’t be funny), or they contain one or more of the seven words you can’t say on television (or mention on a family blog) — you remember, the 7 words comedian George Carlin warned us about back in the 70s:

Of course, you would hear every one of those words if you watched the above clip, so I can’t use it.

And then I thought about using this clip,

but….

So, I can’t use it.

Finally, out of desperation, I thought I’d call my neighbors, the Funnies, but they were out of desperation too. However, they did let me borrow yesterday’s newspaper containing these cartoons:

https://www.indystar.com/story/opinion/columnists/varvel/2018/03/25/cartoonist-gary-varvel-donald-trumps-past/456682002/

Now that, I can use.

SOWING MY WILD QUOTES

….young men must sow their wild oats, and women must not expect miracles. –from LITTLE WOMEN, by Louisa May Alcott

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Usually, when I do a post of quotations, they’re organized around one subject….but, for this post (having amassed a wide range of seedy — correction: seed-bearing — reflections), I’ll throw caution to the winds and, as the saying blows — scatter and sow my wild quotes:

What I have seen of the love affairs of other people has not led me to regret that deficiency in my experience. –George Bernard Shaw

The law, in its majestic equality, forbids the rich as well as the poor to sleep under bridges, to beg in the streets, and to steal bread. –Anatole France

The latter part of a wise person’s life is occupied with curing the follies, prejudices and false opinions they contracted earlier. –Jonathan Swift

Most African-Americans in this country will never know the true history of our ancestors. Our forefathers were densely packed into slave ships and transported across the Atlantic to be sold like common goods. Many died and their individuals histories with them. Those who survived had their ancestral names stripped from them and replaced with ones slave masters wanted them to have. Much of our African heritage has been irretrievably lost to the ravages of such as Gen. Lee, whose monuments pay tribute to individuals who took away and erased the history of thousands upon thousands of Africans through slavery, killing and destruction of black families by way of the auction block. Now some want to romanticize, revere and commemorate them as heroes. Well, excuse me if I’m not willing to buy that brand. Forgive me if I don’t shed a tear for your loss. All I can say is, welcome to the club. –Kevin S. Aldridge

Never underestimate the power of very stupid people in large groups. –John Kenneth Galbraith

There is no expedient to which a man will not go to avoid the labor of thinking. –Thomas Edison

Enough is what would satisfy us — if the neighbors didn’t have more. –from “20,000 Quips & Quotes,” by Evan Esar

And with that, I think you’ve had enough. Evan, if you want more.