DAYS OF OUR WIVES

The third Sunday in September, which by all (ac)counts is today, is WIFE APPRECIATION DAY. First and foremost, it’s a day for all us husbands to give thanks….thanks that we don’t live in olden times of guys like King Solomon, who had hundreds of wives for whose favors he had to pay dearly to prove his appreciation, not only this day, but on wedding anniversaries, birthdays, and romantic holidays like the ancient equivalents of Sweetest Day, Valentine’s Day, and, of course, Groundhog Day. My wallet (which I affectionately call Wally) is having a nervous breakdown just thinking about that empty feeling….and praying he doesn’t wake up tomorrow morning reliving this day.

Fortunately, we live in more civilized times where monogamy is the rule and just one wife is the ruler. Wally can rest assured that I see all such days as over-commercialized evil plots furthered by vile capitalists interested only in separating Wally and me from our hard-earned jack* (surnamed Washington, Lincoln, Hamilton, Jackson, Grant and Franklin) — and my would-be better half had better see it that way, because I control the Jack in my Wally, and I will not be moved by shape-up-or-ship-out demands….

*jack, n. Money. Orig. a sporting term, common 1920s. –Dictionary of American Slang

Whoa! Let us not be too hasty — you know I was only kidding, don’t you, Honey Buns? Lay that pistol down, babe….

As a matter of fact, Snooky Wooky Ookums, I do have something for you on WIFE APPRECIATION DAY: something to bring back memories of those halcyon days when lovers can’t get enough of each other (as The Donald continues to feel about The Donald):

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Sorry, Wally. Sorry, Jack.  When you gotta go, you gotta go.

 

 

 

Advertisements

A QUOTER OF NINE

One must never miss an opportunity of quoting things by others which are always more interesting than those one thinks up oneself. –Marcel Proust

The idea for this post was born of the mating of the above quote (which came from a book I’m reading about Marcel Proust) with a play on words from the title of this old song:

The next step was to come up with nine quotes based on the above premise. Almost by default, I chose quotes about quotes. I hope the result isn’t born stillborn — if so, de fault is yours (or mine, if you want to be petty about it). Let’s begin and see how it works out:

Those who never quote, in return are never quoted. –Isaac D’Israeli

Pretty things that are well said — it’s nice to have them in your head. –Robert Frost

I have made it a rule that whenever I say something stupid, I immediately attribute it to Dr. Johnson, Marcus Aurelius or Dorothy Parker. –George Mikes

Asked to describe his most recent play, a playwright (who Dorothy Parker felt had been copying her) said, “It’s hard to say — except that it’s a play against all isms.” She replied, “Except plagiarism.

I always have a quotation for everything — it saves original thinking. –Dorothy L. Sayers

To be amused at what you read — that is the great spring of quotation. –Charles Edward Montague

While reading writers of great formulatory power — Henry James, Santayana, Proust — I find I can scarcely get through a page without having to stop to record some lapidary sentence. Reading Henry James, for example, I have muttered to myself, “C’mon, Henry, turn down the brilliance a notch, so I can get some reading done.” –Joseph Epstein

If you want to be quoted, say something you shouldn’t say. –Evan Esar

I really didn’t say everything I said. –Yogi Berra

So that makes me a quoter of nine, unless one counts the opening Marcel Proust quote, which doesn’t count as ten unless you’re keeping count, in which case, count it instead as a bonus which would only count if you don’t count Yogi, who said he didn’t say what he said if he didn’t say it (but don’t quote me on that).

 

 

SCAT!

Wait — don’t scat! Stay where you are and let scat come to you — scat singing, that is — and who better to lay the scat on you than two of the best: Mel Tormé, whose birthday (9/13/25) we celebrate this month, and the First Lady of Scat, Ella Fitzgerald:

Man, if that didn’t knock your socks off, you’d better put your shoes on and scat back to Squaresville, because you’re just not with it! To say scat singing is little more than vocal jazz improvisation with nonsense words is like saying The Donald is just improvising when he lets loose with nonsense tweets (to use a reverse perverse metaphor).

So, who was the cat who ‘invented’ scat? There seems to be no definitive answer, but some say it began 2/26/26 when Louis Armstrong supposedly forgot the words to this song and began improvising a little more than halfway through the recording:

Let’s wrap it up with this recent scat-iteration (which, I kid you not, ends with tweets):

And now you can scat! Come back any time.

KISS HER IN THE KISSER AND MAKE UP

My formula for living is quite simple. I get up in the morning and I go to bed at night. In between, I occupy myself as best I can. –Cary Grant

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

August 25 is KISS AND MAKE UP DAY. In the Cary Grant spirit of occupying myself as best I can, I thought I’d present an assemblage of good old-fashioned “kiss and make up” goodies (the idea being, if you don’t love my premise, you can kiss my assortment). Let’s start with Cary’s take on make-up, which (as you can see) I’m not making up:

Well, apparently Cary never did make up with that gal, because here he is two years later, singing another love song to another gal:

It seems that Cary would rather play the field than kiss and make up. Let us therefore pick a dilly of a ditty less playboy-like in character:

So much for the guys. I give the last word to the gals (they usually have it anyway):

Kiss and make up — but too much makeup has ruined many a kiss. –Mae West

Kiss & make up. Maybe making out for a few minutes would help us figure things out. –Katie Anderson

In trying to get our own way, we should remember that kisses are sweeter than whine. –Ann Nonymous

IT’S REIGNING CATS AND DOGS

This morning’s newspaper brings news of “another copycat slinking in on Rabbit Hash’s paw-litical scene.” As long-time readers may recall from my posts of 7/27/17 and earlier, Rabbit Hash is a small canine-run KY town on the banks of the Ohio River, not far from…

Now It seems that the small village of Omena, Michigan, has elected as mayor a feline named Sweet Tart (not to mention two dogs and a goat elected to lesser offices), and has received no small amount of pub in the bargain:

Friends, I’m not saying that the Kentucky town is trying to hog all the attention for having an animal mayor, but one gets the impression that Rabbit Hash feels Omena is horning in on their territory. Bobbi Kayser, ex-exec secretary and campaign manager to the former mayor, border collie Lucy Lou (who ran on the slogan “The Bitch You Can Count On”), admitted as much in the news article. “It all started here in Rabbit Hash–a tradition that Rabbit Hash could claim as its own. Now, we can’t. I’m a bit resentful. I’ve heard that in addition to the cat in Michigan, down south there is a donkey serving as mayor.”

Personally, I have a bigger problem with the jackass serving in the oval office, who yesterday referred to former White House counsel John Dean as a “rat” for his part in exposing Watergate. Unlike the Lyin’ King, Sweet Tart wasn’t born on Easy Street — as a kitten, she was found abandoned and half-starved alongside a trail near Omena in 2009. So I say “Lighten Up, Rabbit Hash” and “Good for Sweet Tart!” Just because people get jealous and fight like cats and dogs, doesn’t mean animals should lower themselves to human standards.

 

TRUMPO REVOKES MISTERMUSE’S SECURITY BLANKET

It is with heavy heart that I inform readers of a grave injustice almost unprecedented in the annals of grave injusticedom: MISTERMUSE HAS JUST BEEN STRIPPED OF HIS SECURITY BLANKET by the Lord and Master of the Land of Nod, Donaldo El Trumpo. Disregarding long practice whereby his predecessors first convened/consulted with top underlings in the Blanket Discharge Dept., El Trumpo acted without so much as a wink and a nod to protocol, stating the firing was necessitated by Muse’s “erratic behavior.”

Friends, I put it to you: has anyone (with the possible exception of the President of the United States) displayed more erratic behavior in the annals of erratic behaviordom than El Trumpo? Talk about THE POTUS CALLING THE KETTLE BLACK! Granted, Mister Muse may be guilty of occasional excess tossing and turning in bed, but if Mrs. Muse isn’t complaining, on what basis does El Trumpo base his baseless blasphemy? Muse is admittedly no Rip Van Periwinkle, however that doesn’t make his restless, less-than-sound sleep, “erratic behavior” (at least, until being stripped of his security blanket, thereby making him no longer responsible for his behavior).

In an odd coincidence, this comes on the heels of POTUS revoking the security clearance of former CIA Director, John Brennan, which provoked a protest from 12 former CIA chiefs and this stinging rebuke from retired Navy Admiral, Bill McRaven:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/revoke-my-security-clearance-too-mr-president/2018/08/16/8b149b02-a178-11e8-93e3-24d1703d2a7a_story.html?utm_term=.e5d72f2cff1e

Friends, these are critical times for the future of the Land of Nod and the United States. Patriots of the United States have lost no time in defending John Brennan from the machinations of POTUS. Will you now rise to the defense of Mister Muse for the good of the Land of Nod? Demand that El Trumpo restore my security blanket, and you will sleep better for it….and so, rest assured, will I.

IT ISN’T BECAUSE IT ISN’T (VARIATIONS ON A THEME)

I don’t see it as a safety issue because it isn’t.” –Bill Kaeppner, president of Ohio Motorized Trails Assn., speaking in favor of the State Division of Forestry’s proposal to allow all-purpose vehicle trails to cross hiking trails in Ohio State Parks

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Reading the foregoing quote in a local newspaper article a few weeks ago, the possible applications of its incontrovertible logic struck me like the twaddle in a Trump tweet. Think of the implications for settling all manner of opposing positions. Think of all the cross-purposes which could be brought to a screeching stop, like trail traffic in a forest, by a simple red light at a crossing intersection. Friends, Romans, Fishermen, the solution is as obvious as the nose on your face: IT ISN’T BECAUSE IT ISN’T. End of de bait.

Let us take a look at a few of of Trump’s favorite declarations as examples of settling matters by simple fiat (it is or isn’t, because he says it is or isn’t):

WITCH HUNT — which is to say, do I look like a witch? (well, he’s got us there–no self-respecting witch would look like him)

THERE’S NO COLLUSION — and even if there was, it ain’t illegal. (just ask Putin–your Russian to judgment)

FAKE NEWS — any news not viewed through the fair and balanced lens of Fox News. (not to crow, but the allegory here is a piece of cake):

CHOKED LIKE A DOG —in other words, a loser. (spoken like a man who’s the only President never to have owned a dog since McKinley)

BELIEVE ME — would I lie? (like a sleeping dog, Donald–like a sleeping dog)