Dear Mrs. Higgins,
With the elections over I thought we were past all this slanted spin on every political story.
I was wrong.
Don’t know if you’ve been following the story, though its hard not to the way the press has been forcing it on us: the lynching of our Governor Blagojevich.
I’m telling you the press has been ridiculous with these trumped up charges that are hardly worth mentioning.
Trumped up charge #1: selling the senate seat vacated by President Elect Obama.
Well comrade, this is called “revenue”. Its part of running a “business” in a free trade place we call America.
This anti commerce commie press has really got to realize that profit is a good thing. Next we’ll be closing down lemonade stands.
Trumped up charge #2: withholding state payments to a children’s hospital until contributions are made to his office.
Ok, this sounds bad. But the one question I haven’t heard anyone ask is: are these kids really sick?
Oh, no Mr. Reporter bypasses the key questions to maliciously tar the Governor’s good name.
Trumped up charge #3: getting high paid, cushy jobs for his wife in exchange for state contracts.
Here is a man trying to do something to help out around the house. Sorry to inform the anti-family press, but taking care of the Mrs. is what we call family values.
Anyway Mrs. H, I’m sure this is just a tempest in a teapot. After the press finds somebody else to viciously attack, Rod will coast himself into the senate. And I’ve already ordered my “Blago for President 2016” t shirts.
All he needs is a real “law and order” VP. I wonder what Elliot Spitzer is doing these days.
Mike
Dear Mike,
The only place your buddy Rod is going to “coast into” is the penitentiary. Maybe Mrs. Blago will have an adjacent cell.
Did you say “law and order” and “Elliot Spitzer” in the same week?
Keep the tshirt, boy. Your car is always dirty anyway.
Love and kisses,
Mrs H.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Welcome to Walmart
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
I know we are in the throes of a recession bordering depression.
Things are bad. Way bad.
Every day the news gets worse. Another bank closes. Stock market plummets.
Freddie Mac, Fannie Mae, Fannie Pack, all in big trouble.
So I was only a little startled to see that Friday after Thanksgiving there were lines at Best Buy several hours before they opened at 4am.
4am. Best Buy. Holy Shit! Really?
I’ve seen pictures of the lines from the last depression. Unshaven guys with tattered clothes standing in line for a bowl of soup.
Now we’re looking at folks, just as troubled, just as passionate, scoring great deals on iPods and DVD players.
I’m thinking that if there really was a depression, would anyone want ANYTHING from Best Buy? (think: food, shelter, clothing, digital cameras)
So, anyway Mrs. H, with all respect for the depression you went
through, but this seems a little like depression lite.
And here is the kicker: a greeter at a Walmart in New York city was crushed to death as the store opened on black Friday (aka black and blue Friday)
Crushed to death.
By people trying to save money on Christmas presents.
I haven’t been so confused about how we celebrate Jesus birth since
“don we now our gay apparel”
Not everyone understands the true meaning of Christmas. That’s why, I’m off to buy a couple electric deer for the front yard, to set an example for the entire neighborhood.
(hope folks don’t think I’m too religious)
Be careful at Walmart,
Mike
Dear Mike,
Yeah. You’re an example alright.
Go light up your deer. Hopefully the neighbor kids won’t “arrange” them this year.
Mrs H.
I know we are in the throes of a recession bordering depression.
Things are bad. Way bad.
Every day the news gets worse. Another bank closes. Stock market plummets.
Freddie Mac, Fannie Mae, Fannie Pack, all in big trouble.
So I was only a little startled to see that Friday after Thanksgiving there were lines at Best Buy several hours before they opened at 4am.
4am. Best Buy. Holy Shit! Really?
I’ve seen pictures of the lines from the last depression. Unshaven guys with tattered clothes standing in line for a bowl of soup.
Now we’re looking at folks, just as troubled, just as passionate, scoring great deals on iPods and DVD players.
I’m thinking that if there really was a depression, would anyone want ANYTHING from Best Buy? (think: food, shelter, clothing, digital cameras)
So, anyway Mrs. H, with all respect for the depression you went
through, but this seems a little like depression lite.
And here is the kicker: a greeter at a Walmart in New York city was crushed to death as the store opened on black Friday (aka black and blue Friday)
Crushed to death.
By people trying to save money on Christmas presents.
I haven’t been so confused about how we celebrate Jesus birth since
“don we now our gay apparel”
Not everyone understands the true meaning of Christmas. That’s why, I’m off to buy a couple electric deer for the front yard, to set an example for the entire neighborhood.
(hope folks don’t think I’m too religious)
Be careful at Walmart,
Mike
Dear Mike,
Yeah. You’re an example alright.
Go light up your deer. Hopefully the neighbor kids won’t “arrange” them this year.
Mrs H.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Get Sirius
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
I was buying a pack of gum at a convenience store the other day and noticed that I was on 5 video cameras. In addition, my every move was closely monitored by the cashier behind the counter.
Today I read that pirates have captured a $100 million supertanker near the Somali coast. They just drive their little boats along side, toss a grappling hook over the edge and now the Sirius Star belongs to Mr. Pirate and company.
Seems like maybe the convenience store could provide a little security training to ocean going vessels.
Maybe part of the problem is that the Sirius, which is about a fifth of a mile long, is operated by 25 people.
25.
McDonalds uses 26 to manage the breakfast rush.
Well you know me, Mrs. H. I say, if you can’t beat em, join em.
That’s right. I’m going to get a black eye patch, and a bottle of rum and get on the bandwagon. Not exactly sure what I’ll do with a thousand foot supertanker, but I’m pretty sure the local pawn shop will be part of the solution.
Maybe I should start with fishing boats at Lake Shelbyville.
Do you know where I can buy an arm hook?
Mike
Dear Captain Hook,
Congratulations on your new career choice.
Definitely start with raiding tackle boxes and beer coolers. Then it’s a small step to international waters.
Or you could just get two eye patches, drink the rum, and pretend like its every other Wednesday night.
Mrs H.
I was buying a pack of gum at a convenience store the other day and noticed that I was on 5 video cameras. In addition, my every move was closely monitored by the cashier behind the counter.
Today I read that pirates have captured a $100 million supertanker near the Somali coast. They just drive their little boats along side, toss a grappling hook over the edge and now the Sirius Star belongs to Mr. Pirate and company.
Seems like maybe the convenience store could provide a little security training to ocean going vessels.
Maybe part of the problem is that the Sirius, which is about a fifth of a mile long, is operated by 25 people.
25.
McDonalds uses 26 to manage the breakfast rush.
Well you know me, Mrs. H. I say, if you can’t beat em, join em.
That’s right. I’m going to get a black eye patch, and a bottle of rum and get on the bandwagon. Not exactly sure what I’ll do with a thousand foot supertanker, but I’m pretty sure the local pawn shop will be part of the solution.
Maybe I should start with fishing boats at Lake Shelbyville.
Do you know where I can buy an arm hook?
Mike
Dear Captain Hook,
Congratulations on your new career choice.
Definitely start with raiding tackle boxes and beer coolers. Then it’s a small step to international waters.
Or you could just get two eye patches, drink the rum, and pretend like its every other Wednesday night.
Mrs H.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Dating and other natural disasters - part 2
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
Had a strange experience the other night and I wanted to get your opinion.
I had a date over at my house, and the night is going really well.
Suddenly, she leans in and asks softly, “Do you have any protection?”
Well, as you know, I've been around a little, and knew just what she was really asking.
“Absolutely,” I nodded knowingly. “State Farm: homeowners AND vehicle.”
Then, for effect, I whispered in her ear, “100 dollar deductible.”
I know that was probably over the top, but thought if I could make an impression, why not. If you’ve got it, flaunt it.
Her reaction was a little different than expected. She shook her head and pointed down saying, “you know, protection.”
That’s when I realized that this girl was way smart.
How could she possible know that my shoes had steel toes. I mean, there’s no way to tell by looking.
So I smiled and said: “You’re good baby! Do you want to drop something heavy on my toe?”
Ok, Mrs. Higgins, here is the strange part. Instead of maybe stepping on the end of my foot, or putting a table leg on top of my shoe, she is starting to leave.
Turns out she left her curling iron on, a cake in the oven, and her cat outside. She is really in a hurry to get out of here.
So here is my question Mrs. H: Should I be dating a girl that is so forgetful?
Tell me what you think,
Mike
Dear Mike,
I wouldn't be too concerned. "Miss Forgetful" will probably remember enough that you won't have to worry about it.
By the way, I wouldn’t share this information with your State Farm agent. They can cancel people, you know.
Try not to “flaunt it” any more than you have to.
Mrs. H
Had a strange experience the other night and I wanted to get your opinion.
I had a date over at my house, and the night is going really well.
Suddenly, she leans in and asks softly, “Do you have any protection?”
Well, as you know, I've been around a little, and knew just what she was really asking.
“Absolutely,” I nodded knowingly. “State Farm: homeowners AND vehicle.”
Then, for effect, I whispered in her ear, “100 dollar deductible.”
I know that was probably over the top, but thought if I could make an impression, why not. If you’ve got it, flaunt it.
Her reaction was a little different than expected. She shook her head and pointed down saying, “you know, protection.”
That’s when I realized that this girl was way smart.
How could she possible know that my shoes had steel toes. I mean, there’s no way to tell by looking.
So I smiled and said: “You’re good baby! Do you want to drop something heavy on my toe?”
Ok, Mrs. Higgins, here is the strange part. Instead of maybe stepping on the end of my foot, or putting a table leg on top of my shoe, she is starting to leave.
Turns out she left her curling iron on, a cake in the oven, and her cat outside. She is really in a hurry to get out of here.
So here is my question Mrs. H: Should I be dating a girl that is so forgetful?
Tell me what you think,
Mike
Dear Mike,
I wouldn't be too concerned. "Miss Forgetful" will probably remember enough that you won't have to worry about it.
By the way, I wouldn’t share this information with your State Farm agent. They can cancel people, you know.
Try not to “flaunt it” any more than you have to.
Mrs. H
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Still unsafe at any speed
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
Did the American thing today. Yes, I flipped off an illegal immigrant. (just tryin to do my part)
Ok no, actually I voted. Its always an interesting process. Pretty laid back and easy here. The voter police here in Savoy take it way seriously. Pretty sure they were doing this same job during the Roosevelt election. Not FDR, Teddy.
These girls verified my name, address, and signature. Wish I was as thorough at my job.
That said, as I walk away, I can’t help but think about the price paid for this cushy right I always take for granted. These blue hairs and this process are about as American as you can get.
Its an incredibly beautiful fall day here. Not a cloud in the sky, and I have my flag flying, as do a bunch of my neighbors. The leaves are just about maxed out in a way that only they can.
And I’m thinking: America is a pretty good gig.
So as I step into the booth to set this country aright, I see that Nader is running for president, again.
Really. Ralph freakin Nadar.
It made me want to ask Pamela Anderson out on a date.
“So you’re saying there’s a chance!”
I’m picturing Ralph sitting in his living room, watching the results come in saying:
“Wow! .004 percent. I thought I was gonna carry that state. Should have made one more speech at the local head shop”
Maybe GM will send him a Corvair.
What do you think, Mrs. H?
Mike
Dear Mike,
Don’t be bad mouthing the Corvair. Best car I ever had.
Glad you voted.
Go give your life guard friend a call, but I’d bring penicillin.
Love,
Mrs H.
History note to young readers:
In 1965 Ralph Nader wrote a book called “Unsafe at Any Speed”
blasting General Motors, and the Chevy Corvair particularly. It was the beginning of a whole world of reviewing products for safety, and launched Mr. Nader’s career. The book is credited with actually improving safety design in American autos. So the guy isn’t the useless tool he appears to be. (well almost isn’t)
Did the American thing today. Yes, I flipped off an illegal immigrant. (just tryin to do my part)
Ok no, actually I voted. Its always an interesting process. Pretty laid back and easy here. The voter police here in Savoy take it way seriously. Pretty sure they were doing this same job during the Roosevelt election. Not FDR, Teddy.
These girls verified my name, address, and signature. Wish I was as thorough at my job.
That said, as I walk away, I can’t help but think about the price paid for this cushy right I always take for granted. These blue hairs and this process are about as American as you can get.
Its an incredibly beautiful fall day here. Not a cloud in the sky, and I have my flag flying, as do a bunch of my neighbors. The leaves are just about maxed out in a way that only they can.
And I’m thinking: America is a pretty good gig.
So as I step into the booth to set this country aright, I see that Nader is running for president, again.
Really. Ralph freakin Nadar.
It made me want to ask Pamela Anderson out on a date.
“So you’re saying there’s a chance!”
I’m picturing Ralph sitting in his living room, watching the results come in saying:
“Wow! .004 percent. I thought I was gonna carry that state. Should have made one more speech at the local head shop”
Maybe GM will send him a Corvair.
What do you think, Mrs. H?
Mike
Dear Mike,
Don’t be bad mouthing the Corvair. Best car I ever had.
Glad you voted.
Go give your life guard friend a call, but I’d bring penicillin.
Love,
Mrs H.
History note to young readers:
In 1965 Ralph Nader wrote a book called “Unsafe at Any Speed”
blasting General Motors, and the Chevy Corvair particularly. It was the beginning of a whole world of reviewing products for safety, and launched Mr. Nader’s career. The book is credited with actually improving safety design in American autos. So the guy isn’t the useless tool he appears to be. (well almost isn’t)
Monday, November 3, 2008
Instruction Manual
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
I recently bought one of those all-in-one printer, fax, copier, scanner, expresso maker, liposuction machines. It was under 300 hundred beans from Best Buy, and does everything but sell popcorn at half time.
It even will tell me when its low on toner. It has a reorder web site all queued up and tied to my bank account to pull out whatever it needs, whenever it needs it. (sweet!)
It didn’t come with a manual.
At all.
Not even one page.
Usually you’ll get 6 pages of pictures and instruction to inform you how to safely remove your new “whatever” from the box. Then another several pages dedicated to the safety concerns running that, ever so tricky, electrical plug in.
And, normally there is tons of “valuable information” safeguarding against using the product for something other than intended.
This, I find especially informative. It keeps me from using this computer printer as a life saving floatation device, a claw hammer, or a condom.
Knowledge is power!
Yet, even without the comfort of printed instruction, I’ve kind of figured out how to use the main features, and we’re getting along about as well as the rest of the office.
(aka, nothing has caught fire)
Adjusting to this Brave New World of having to figure out stuff by myself, I’ve pressed on.
Until today, when I bought a new coffee thermos.
It came with instructions.
4 pages. In, I think, 5 languages, hard to tell.
And, ok, I get it. The nuances and complexity of pouring a liquid which could be hot OR cold into a device, then fully expecting that same device to retain same hot or cold (whew!)
And I haven’t even touched on the intellectual labyrinth of trying to get something back out! (what is this, MENSA??)
Well, we soldier on. We play the cards we get. We do what we gotta do.
I’ll pour coffee in that bad boy tomorrow morning, and hope that somehow I can get it back out.
(may even learn a little Chinese/Korean/Farsi in the processes - thats how we grow)
Just hope I don’t receive a fax at the same time.
Much love,
Mike
Dear Mike,
Yeah. You're MENSA material alright. Good luck embracing the technology!
Love,
Mrs Higgins
I recently bought one of those all-in-one printer, fax, copier, scanner, expresso maker, liposuction machines. It was under 300 hundred beans from Best Buy, and does everything but sell popcorn at half time.
It even will tell me when its low on toner. It has a reorder web site all queued up and tied to my bank account to pull out whatever it needs, whenever it needs it. (sweet!)
It didn’t come with a manual.
At all.
Not even one page.
Usually you’ll get 6 pages of pictures and instruction to inform you how to safely remove your new “whatever” from the box. Then another several pages dedicated to the safety concerns running that, ever so tricky, electrical plug in.
And, normally there is tons of “valuable information” safeguarding against using the product for something other than intended.
This, I find especially informative. It keeps me from using this computer printer as a life saving floatation device, a claw hammer, or a condom.
Knowledge is power!
Yet, even without the comfort of printed instruction, I’ve kind of figured out how to use the main features, and we’re getting along about as well as the rest of the office.
(aka, nothing has caught fire)
Adjusting to this Brave New World of having to figure out stuff by myself, I’ve pressed on.
Until today, when I bought a new coffee thermos.
It came with instructions.
4 pages. In, I think, 5 languages, hard to tell.
And, ok, I get it. The nuances and complexity of pouring a liquid which could be hot OR cold into a device, then fully expecting that same device to retain same hot or cold (whew!)
And I haven’t even touched on the intellectual labyrinth of trying to get something back out! (what is this, MENSA??)
Well, we soldier on. We play the cards we get. We do what we gotta do.
I’ll pour coffee in that bad boy tomorrow morning, and hope that somehow I can get it back out.
(may even learn a little Chinese/Korean/Farsi in the processes - thats how we grow)
Just hope I don’t receive a fax at the same time.
Much love,
Mike
Dear Mike,
Yeah. You're MENSA material alright. Good luck embracing the technology!
Love,
Mrs Higgins
Friday, October 31, 2008
Holiday Spirit
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
You know how oversensitive my neighbors can be, so you won’t be surprised by this at all.
Halloween night, and I’ve just got back from my own trick or treating. Kind of a disappointing year actually. Most people just slammed their doors and called 911. (probably thought I actually WAS Spiderman and needed to connect to the proper authorities. Sometimes my costumes are just TOO good)
Anyway, a little tyke, dressed as a leprechaun, shows up at the door. The little guy is adorable in green and all, and in keeping with tradition, I give him a pint of Guiness.
Suddenly his mom appears out of nowhere (I think she was hiding behind a tree) and makes this huge scene. Like really, do you think this 7 year old wanted a Snicker?
I think its about time parents do a little homework, and be a bit more open minded. Its Halloween after all.
So the night moves on, and since traffic is a bit slim, I’m kinda sampling the wares - getting ready for the next onslaught of neighborhood “ghouls and goblins“.
Getting toward the end of the trick or treat time and here comes a Princess. I’m thinking: she must be an Irish princess, so I offer up another pint.
Now this mom, also super overprotective, jumps in and has a “problem”. I know what you’re thinking Mrs. H: “hey, lets get in the spirit of the holiday!”
Shortly after, a kid comes up as R2D2, you know, the robot from Star Wars.
And I’m thinking robot: yes, Irish robot: hell yes! But the Guiness supply is dwindling, probably from all the Leprechauns earlier, but not really sure, so I offer up a piece of corned beef.
Wow.
All I can say is kids aren’t nearly as grateful as they were in my time. Probably too many video games.
Last trick or treaters of the night are a Harry Potter and a hobo. Great costumes. And, as we all know, totally Irish. But the Guiness and corned beef are gone, so all I can pony up is a little piece of cabbage.
(I’m holding back the Jameson in case I develop a cough later tonight - could happen)
Surprisingly, that didn’t go well either. Kids are clearly eating so much McDonalds that they don’t appreciate good quality food.
Anyway, Mrs. H, how was your Halloween? I know your townhouse is a little harder to get to, but I’m sure the kids in your neighborhood are tracking you down.
And more importantly, what’s wrong with the children of America?
Mike
Dear Mike,
Number one problem: you’re 51 and you still are one.
Number two: you may want to put your house on the market.
Sleep it off, and we’ll talk again. Hope your cough gets better.
Mrs H.
You know how oversensitive my neighbors can be, so you won’t be surprised by this at all.
Halloween night, and I’ve just got back from my own trick or treating. Kind of a disappointing year actually. Most people just slammed their doors and called 911. (probably thought I actually WAS Spiderman and needed to connect to the proper authorities. Sometimes my costumes are just TOO good)
Anyway, a little tyke, dressed as a leprechaun, shows up at the door. The little guy is adorable in green and all, and in keeping with tradition, I give him a pint of Guiness.
Suddenly his mom appears out of nowhere (I think she was hiding behind a tree) and makes this huge scene. Like really, do you think this 7 year old wanted a Snicker?
I think its about time parents do a little homework, and be a bit more open minded. Its Halloween after all.
So the night moves on, and since traffic is a bit slim, I’m kinda sampling the wares - getting ready for the next onslaught of neighborhood “ghouls and goblins“.
Getting toward the end of the trick or treat time and here comes a Princess. I’m thinking: she must be an Irish princess, so I offer up another pint.
Now this mom, also super overprotective, jumps in and has a “problem”. I know what you’re thinking Mrs. H: “hey, lets get in the spirit of the holiday!”
Shortly after, a kid comes up as R2D2, you know, the robot from Star Wars.
And I’m thinking robot: yes, Irish robot: hell yes! But the Guiness supply is dwindling, probably from all the Leprechauns earlier, but not really sure, so I offer up a piece of corned beef.
Wow.
All I can say is kids aren’t nearly as grateful as they were in my time. Probably too many video games.
Last trick or treaters of the night are a Harry Potter and a hobo. Great costumes. And, as we all know, totally Irish. But the Guiness and corned beef are gone, so all I can pony up is a little piece of cabbage.
(I’m holding back the Jameson in case I develop a cough later tonight - could happen)
Surprisingly, that didn’t go well either. Kids are clearly eating so much McDonalds that they don’t appreciate good quality food.
Anyway, Mrs. H, how was your Halloween? I know your townhouse is a little harder to get to, but I’m sure the kids in your neighborhood are tracking you down.
And more importantly, what’s wrong with the children of America?
Mike
Dear Mike,
Number one problem: you’re 51 and you still are one.
Number two: you may want to put your house on the market.
Sleep it off, and we’ll talk again. Hope your cough gets better.
Mrs H.
A lesson from Joe Dog
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
I love the little guy.
Actually, I delight in him. He really doesn’t have much practical use, but there you go. He has been described as being so ugly he’s cute, and I’m comfy with that. I’ve trained him to go to the bathroom where he is supposed to, but that is about as far as his education has gone.
Most of the time he doesn’t listen much to me. He may look at me, but pretty much has his own agenda. Even when he is doing something stupid and against his own best interests, he will, most of the time, ignore my commands.
He does love me though, in his own way. He'll get all excited and give me all kinds of attention, then gradually move away to do his own thing.
I love to watch him run. We’ll go out for a walk and I’ll let him off the leash, and he just takes off. Strange how I get joy just watching him run free. He’ll go quite a ways, but always checks in with where I am, and how far away he is.
The other night, it was storming. He always wigs out when there is a storm out there, so he’s following every step I take. He insists that I pick him up and hold him. Kind of whiney and persistent, he needs tons of attention. I hold him, and his teeth stick out, and his breath stinks (probably from the goose poop that he loves), and he’s totally demanding.
Finally the thunder quits, and he settles down.
Shortly, he’s back doing his own agenda - totally ignoring me.
I think Joe's teaching me about God and me.
I totally love the little guy. Actually, I delight in him.
Mike
Dear Mike,
I have a hard time telling you and Joe apart, white beards and all, but you may be onto something.
Keep going to the bathroom where you are supposed to and consider upping your education.
If we all would realize how much He delights in us, I think we'd live a lot better and have a lot more peace.
Think about crawling on His lap even when the thunder isn't booming.
Mrs. H.
I love the little guy.
Actually, I delight in him. He really doesn’t have much practical use, but there you go. He has been described as being so ugly he’s cute, and I’m comfy with that. I’ve trained him to go to the bathroom where he is supposed to, but that is about as far as his education has gone.
Most of the time he doesn’t listen much to me. He may look at me, but pretty much has his own agenda. Even when he is doing something stupid and against his own best interests, he will, most of the time, ignore my commands.
He does love me though, in his own way. He'll get all excited and give me all kinds of attention, then gradually move away to do his own thing.
I love to watch him run. We’ll go out for a walk and I’ll let him off the leash, and he just takes off. Strange how I get joy just watching him run free. He’ll go quite a ways, but always checks in with where I am, and how far away he is.
The other night, it was storming. He always wigs out when there is a storm out there, so he’s following every step I take. He insists that I pick him up and hold him. Kind of whiney and persistent, he needs tons of attention. I hold him, and his teeth stick out, and his breath stinks (probably from the goose poop that he loves), and he’s totally demanding.
Finally the thunder quits, and he settles down.
Shortly, he’s back doing his own agenda - totally ignoring me.
I think Joe's teaching me about God and me.
I totally love the little guy. Actually, I delight in him.
Mike
Dear Mike,
I have a hard time telling you and Joe apart, white beards and all, but you may be onto something.
Keep going to the bathroom where you are supposed to and consider upping your education.
If we all would realize how much He delights in us, I think we'd live a lot better and have a lot more peace.
Think about crawling on His lap even when the thunder isn't booming.
Mrs. H.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Trouble in Paradise
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
Before you see this on COPS, I wanted to give you a heads up. I had a little problem at Walmart.
Here’s how it played out: I had selected a product slightly ahead of another customer. The other customer insisted that the product was his, but I stood my ground. Words were exchanged, and then I gave the other customer a little shove.
That’s when the trouble started.
The “little shove” caused the other customer to fall backwards (obviously clumsy, and probably drunk) and hit his head on the floor.
Now, and I’m not exaggerating, he starts crying and calls for (are you ready) his mom.
Next thing you know, Miss Overprotective Mom is in my face, and calling for security.
Then, other customers start looking at me like I just shot a bald eagle.
Perhaps, at this time, it would be useful to review some important facts:
Fact #1: There are many stores that have the Spiderman Halloween costume BESIDES this particular Walmart.
Fact#2: Last year I got shut out of the Spiderman “lottery” by waiting till the last minute.
Fact#3: I’m a little bigger, and a little stronger, and: I won!
Then, overreaction set in.
I mean, seriously, you’d think 3rd graders were an endangered species.
Oh sure, there is a little blood dripping down the back of his neck, and maybe a few stitches wouldn’t hurt, but come on, maybe its time to toughen up a little.
Anyway Mrs. H, it’s a little snug, but come Halloween: I’m all set.
(can’t go back to Walmart for awhile, though)
What do you think,
Mike
Dear Spidey,
Oh. My. God.
You pushed a 3rd grader down over a Halloween costume?
Maybe, just maybe, this particular 10 year old wasn’t clumsy or drunk. Maybe you just outweigh him by: oh, I don’t know, 150 lbs?
Here’s a thought: you might be just a little old to dress up for Halloween.
If that doesn’t ring true with you, call a couple of your 51 year old friends and ask them to go trick or treating with you.
Here’s another thought. Instead of trick or treating - which frightens, I think everyone, why don’t you go buy a stock of celery and bag of carrots and pretend you “scored big” in the neighborhood.
You ARE scary, boy,
Mrs H.
Before you see this on COPS, I wanted to give you a heads up. I had a little problem at Walmart.
Here’s how it played out: I had selected a product slightly ahead of another customer. The other customer insisted that the product was his, but I stood my ground. Words were exchanged, and then I gave the other customer a little shove.
That’s when the trouble started.
The “little shove” caused the other customer to fall backwards (obviously clumsy, and probably drunk) and hit his head on the floor.
Now, and I’m not exaggerating, he starts crying and calls for (are you ready) his mom.
Next thing you know, Miss Overprotective Mom is in my face, and calling for security.
Then, other customers start looking at me like I just shot a bald eagle.
Perhaps, at this time, it would be useful to review some important facts:
Fact #1: There are many stores that have the Spiderman Halloween costume BESIDES this particular Walmart.
Fact#2: Last year I got shut out of the Spiderman “lottery” by waiting till the last minute.
Fact#3: I’m a little bigger, and a little stronger, and: I won!
Then, overreaction set in.
I mean, seriously, you’d think 3rd graders were an endangered species.
Oh sure, there is a little blood dripping down the back of his neck, and maybe a few stitches wouldn’t hurt, but come on, maybe its time to toughen up a little.
Anyway Mrs. H, it’s a little snug, but come Halloween: I’m all set.
(can’t go back to Walmart for awhile, though)
What do you think,
Mike
Dear Spidey,
Oh. My. God.
You pushed a 3rd grader down over a Halloween costume?
Maybe, just maybe, this particular 10 year old wasn’t clumsy or drunk. Maybe you just outweigh him by: oh, I don’t know, 150 lbs?
Here’s a thought: you might be just a little old to dress up for Halloween.
If that doesn’t ring true with you, call a couple of your 51 year old friends and ask them to go trick or treating with you.
Here’s another thought. Instead of trick or treating - which frightens, I think everyone, why don’t you go buy a stock of celery and bag of carrots and pretend you “scored big” in the neighborhood.
You ARE scary, boy,
Mrs H.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Strange Urges
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
Made a roast last night for supper. Turned out pretty good. I even mashed a few potatoes and conjured up some gravy.
Took my feast into the living room to watch the debate, and almost lost my appetite. (key word here: almost)
I thought Obama carried himself pretty well but more than ever do I disagree with the man. McCain seemed a little too fiesty and defensive. I was waiting for him to leap to his feet, point at Obama, and yell “and did you notice he’s black!!”
Pretty cute how neither one of them answered the questions. It was sound bite city.
And I know I’m not the brightest star on the Christmas tree, but I absolutely couldn’t understand either one of their “plans” for health care. (note to self: stay healthy)
All I was able to discern was that: we have a record setting deficit for the year just ended, since then we’ve spend hundreds of billions bailing out every financial institution larger than a lemonade stand, we are going to add a whole bunch of new government programs to solve everyones problems, and everyone is going to pay less taxes.
Sweet math! That’s how I run my checkbook!
So anyway, this morning I had a little chunk of leftover beef and a couple hard boiled eggs for breakfast. Joe, of course, was begging the entire time. I have no idea how or why he learned to do that. Naturally, I left a couple scraps on the plate and let the little guy finish em off.
Several hours later (ok, maybe it was 2) I decide on lunch of tuna and salad. Only first, I had to walk past the fridge with the leftover beef, potatoes, and gravy.
I think I would have made it except for the gravy.
Justified by the undeniable fact that tuna will keep longer than leftover spuds, I loaded up a plate and had an awesome lunch.
As I was letting the K9 unit finish up the scraps (again), it dawned on me that that was the same plate I used for breakfast.
Yup, no dishwasher. Just Joe. I’d grabbed the plate off the counter that I (uh, I mean WE) used for breakfast.
Now Mrs. Higgins, I’m concerned: I really, really want to chase a tennis ball. I mean that’s all I can think about. The tennis ball. Its right there - and I get it - and I want it so much - and I throw it - and I get it again - and I bounce it, and I can’t seem to stop….
That’s not all. I keep trying to groom myself in a strange, and totally inappropriate way.
Can you help me, Mrs. H?
Mike
Dear Mike,
Not without a lobotomy.
If I lived closer I’d scratch behind your ear and swat you with a newspaper.
Try a clean dish next time.
Cannot believe you have lived this long.
Love,
Mrs H.
.
Made a roast last night for supper. Turned out pretty good. I even mashed a few potatoes and conjured up some gravy.
Took my feast into the living room to watch the debate, and almost lost my appetite. (key word here: almost)
I thought Obama carried himself pretty well but more than ever do I disagree with the man. McCain seemed a little too fiesty and defensive. I was waiting for him to leap to his feet, point at Obama, and yell “and did you notice he’s black!!”
Pretty cute how neither one of them answered the questions. It was sound bite city.
And I know I’m not the brightest star on the Christmas tree, but I absolutely couldn’t understand either one of their “plans” for health care. (note to self: stay healthy)
All I was able to discern was that: we have a record setting deficit for the year just ended, since then we’ve spend hundreds of billions bailing out every financial institution larger than a lemonade stand, we are going to add a whole bunch of new government programs to solve everyones problems, and everyone is going to pay less taxes.
Sweet math! That’s how I run my checkbook!
So anyway, this morning I had a little chunk of leftover beef and a couple hard boiled eggs for breakfast. Joe, of course, was begging the entire time. I have no idea how or why he learned to do that. Naturally, I left a couple scraps on the plate and let the little guy finish em off.
Several hours later (ok, maybe it was 2) I decide on lunch of tuna and salad. Only first, I had to walk past the fridge with the leftover beef, potatoes, and gravy.
I think I would have made it except for the gravy.
Justified by the undeniable fact that tuna will keep longer than leftover spuds, I loaded up a plate and had an awesome lunch.
As I was letting the K9 unit finish up the scraps (again), it dawned on me that that was the same plate I used for breakfast.
Yup, no dishwasher. Just Joe. I’d grabbed the plate off the counter that I (uh, I mean WE) used for breakfast.
Now Mrs. Higgins, I’m concerned: I really, really want to chase a tennis ball. I mean that’s all I can think about. The tennis ball. Its right there - and I get it - and I want it so much - and I throw it - and I get it again - and I bounce it, and I can’t seem to stop….
That’s not all. I keep trying to groom myself in a strange, and totally inappropriate way.
Can you help me, Mrs. H?
Mike
Dear Mike,
Not without a lobotomy.
If I lived closer I’d scratch behind your ear and swat you with a newspaper.
Try a clean dish next time.
Cannot believe you have lived this long.
Love,
Mrs H.
.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Dating and other natural disasters
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
So, I get home the other day to see a call on my ID from a girl I’ve dated a couple times - nothing serious, and nothing lately.
No message, but I call her back and she has a computer question.
Yup, a computer question.
I want ‘em to love me for my body, but they love me for my mind. (which is also a bit scary)
Anyway, I help her with the computer issue, and we do really have a nice chat.
Then, suddenly, she lowers her voice, pauses, and says
“I’d love to get you in a gym sometime”
Ok, what?
A trashy hotel? A beach? The cereal aisle at Walmart?
No!
A gym.
Not sure what to think about this, Mrs. H. What’s your take on it?
Mike
Dear Mike,
As you already know, that girl bowls on a different night than you do.
She’s way out of your league.
But, come to think of it, every woman I’ve ever seen you with bowls any night but yours.
Aren’t you a little past that chapter where appearance is the thing?
Its ok if girls like your mind. (God help them)
Just be you.
But maybe a couple pounds less of you (how about 30) wouldn’t be a bad plan.
Kiss that little bruised ego like the boo boo that it is and go for a walk.
For a couple days.
Love and kisses,
Mrs. H.
So, I get home the other day to see a call on my ID from a girl I’ve dated a couple times - nothing serious, and nothing lately.
No message, but I call her back and she has a computer question.
Yup, a computer question.
I want ‘em to love me for my body, but they love me for my mind. (which is also a bit scary)
Anyway, I help her with the computer issue, and we do really have a nice chat.
Then, suddenly, she lowers her voice, pauses, and says
“I’d love to get you in a gym sometime”
Ok, what?
A trashy hotel? A beach? The cereal aisle at Walmart?
No!
A gym.
Not sure what to think about this, Mrs. H. What’s your take on it?
Mike
Dear Mike,
As you already know, that girl bowls on a different night than you do.
She’s way out of your league.
But, come to think of it, every woman I’ve ever seen you with bowls any night but yours.
Aren’t you a little past that chapter where appearance is the thing?
Its ok if girls like your mind. (God help them)
Just be you.
But maybe a couple pounds less of you (how about 30) wouldn’t be a bad plan.
Kiss that little bruised ego like the boo boo that it is and go for a walk.
For a couple days.
Love and kisses,
Mrs. H.
Betrayed by Friends
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
A couple nights ago, and I’m out walking Joe Dog: aka “The Underbite of Fright” (ok, I’m just tryin to make him sound a little tougher for Halloween)
Anyway, it gets to be about 10 or so, and I’m thinking I’ll go in, flip on the tube, and catch up on Dave, or John Stewart, or maybe Colbert, but then I remember:
I can’t watch these guys anymore. Things have changed.
The shows have become a pulpit for political point. Funny will come, but it will always come at the expense of McCain, Palin, and always, always W. The only people less popular than our president are, uh, congress - but they are a target less easy and not of interest.
I love political humor. Tons of it is really funny. The SNL parodies have been great (and I don’t think anyone can accuse Saturday Night Live of being right wing)
But my pseudo "friends" are getting meaner now. And there’s no attempt to balance.
I wish it wasn’t so transparent. Its supposed to be entertainment, but all I see is agenda.
I just can’t sit through it. I'd rather watch the Knitting Channel - and not just for the babes.
(well ok, partly for the babes)
What do you think, Mrs. H?
Is there something wrong with me?
Love,
Mike
Dear Mike,
Yes. And then some.
But you’re right. Politics is leaking into TV like commercials have leaked into movies.
Maybe you should think about getting "friends" that aren't just on your TV.
Why don’t you shut the thing off, and read a book.
A little learnin wouldn’t hurt you a bit.
Love and kisses,
Mrs. H
A couple nights ago, and I’m out walking Joe Dog: aka “The Underbite of Fright” (ok, I’m just tryin to make him sound a little tougher for Halloween)
Anyway, it gets to be about 10 or so, and I’m thinking I’ll go in, flip on the tube, and catch up on Dave, or John Stewart, or maybe Colbert, but then I remember:
I can’t watch these guys anymore. Things have changed.
The shows have become a pulpit for political point. Funny will come, but it will always come at the expense of McCain, Palin, and always, always W. The only people less popular than our president are, uh, congress - but they are a target less easy and not of interest.
I love political humor. Tons of it is really funny. The SNL parodies have been great (and I don’t think anyone can accuse Saturday Night Live of being right wing)
But my pseudo "friends" are getting meaner now. And there’s no attempt to balance.
I wish it wasn’t so transparent. Its supposed to be entertainment, but all I see is agenda.
I just can’t sit through it. I'd rather watch the Knitting Channel - and not just for the babes.
(well ok, partly for the babes)
What do you think, Mrs. H?
Is there something wrong with me?
Love,
Mike
Dear Mike,
Yes. And then some.
But you’re right. Politics is leaking into TV like commercials have leaked into movies.
Maybe you should think about getting "friends" that aren't just on your TV.
Why don’t you shut the thing off, and read a book.
A little learnin wouldn’t hurt you a bit.
Love and kisses,
Mrs. H
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Bailout
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
I read today that someone farted at the New York Stock Exchange, and Henry Paulson promptly threw 10 billion dollars at him.
Where is all this coming from? Where is it going?
I want to get really worried about it, but I can’t understand it enough to start accurately stressing.
Do I need a bailout? Seems like a couple billion might be a good thing.
Mike
Dear Mike,
The only thing you need bailed out of is the prison of your own feeble mind.
I’m thinking maybe we’ve just had too much, bought on too much debt, for too long. House prices in California have been crazy for years - 1200 foot 2 bedroom for $750,000? No one thought it would end. California is getting a wake up call and the world is affected.
Now debt ain’t available. So we gotta throw all these billions to keep the debt rollin so all these financial institutions can keep building skyscrapers.
Maybe we don’t all need a $500,000 house or a $40,000 car - especially if we have to borrow to get it.
Maybe business expansion should come from yesterday’s profit, rather than debt - which is tomorrows profit.
Maybe we’re gonna get to simpler financial times.
But all these billions are goin to avoid the pain of that change.
You just keep workin boy.
Earnin is way better than borrowing or getting money from your Uncle Sam.
Love and kisses,
Mrs. H
I read today that someone farted at the New York Stock Exchange, and Henry Paulson promptly threw 10 billion dollars at him.
Where is all this coming from? Where is it going?
I want to get really worried about it, but I can’t understand it enough to start accurately stressing.
Do I need a bailout? Seems like a couple billion might be a good thing.
Mike
Dear Mike,
The only thing you need bailed out of is the prison of your own feeble mind.
I’m thinking maybe we’ve just had too much, bought on too much debt, for too long. House prices in California have been crazy for years - 1200 foot 2 bedroom for $750,000? No one thought it would end. California is getting a wake up call and the world is affected.
Now debt ain’t available. So we gotta throw all these billions to keep the debt rollin so all these financial institutions can keep building skyscrapers.
Maybe we don’t all need a $500,000 house or a $40,000 car - especially if we have to borrow to get it.
Maybe business expansion should come from yesterday’s profit, rather than debt - which is tomorrows profit.
Maybe we’re gonna get to simpler financial times.
But all these billions are goin to avoid the pain of that change.
You just keep workin boy.
Earnin is way better than borrowing or getting money from your Uncle Sam.
Love and kisses,
Mrs. H
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Unencumbered
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
Some folks are really hurting and upset over this end to Wall Street. I mean there are guys with bleeding ulcers watching their fortunes plummet.
And the government is stepping in, and stepping in big. You gotta wait 5 days to buy a handgun, but we can loan 88 billion to AIG faster than you can say Hank Paulson has a bad hair day.
And, of course, Nancy Pelosi, who can’t spell SEC, is showing her sweet self through all this. Her vitriol was so strong even some of her own party ran scared. (I think they were afraid she might bite them) If that girl could blame original sin on W. she would.
But here’s the thing: a lot of people aren’t bothered by the whole credit crisis.
They don’t care.
The whole thing is a long way away and has no relevance to their lives.
Sometimes less is more.
I think wealth is great for a lot of things, but I see it really pull people down. They don’t call em trappings for nothing.
Some guy is wringing his hands in anguish as his 2 million just went to 600k. Another guy is deciding on which pizza to order and wondering how many Old Styles are in the fridge.
What do you think, Mrs H?
Mike
Dear Mike,
I think you ought to think about ordering a salad and switchin to diet coke.
You’re right about things though. At any level the stuff we own, owns us right back.
Think about the time you spend mowing your big yard, vacuuming your nice pool, cleaning up your fancy house.
Your things take up a bunch of your time.
Maybe you need to simplify. Not your mind though, that’s simple enough.
Now you remember Joe Biden in your prayers tonight. You ain’t got no real enemies, so you have to make do.
Love you boy,
Mrs H
Some folks are really hurting and upset over this end to Wall Street. I mean there are guys with bleeding ulcers watching their fortunes plummet.
And the government is stepping in, and stepping in big. You gotta wait 5 days to buy a handgun, but we can loan 88 billion to AIG faster than you can say Hank Paulson has a bad hair day.
And, of course, Nancy Pelosi, who can’t spell SEC, is showing her sweet self through all this. Her vitriol was so strong even some of her own party ran scared. (I think they were afraid she might bite them) If that girl could blame original sin on W. she would.
But here’s the thing: a lot of people aren’t bothered by the whole credit crisis.
They don’t care.
The whole thing is a long way away and has no relevance to their lives.
Sometimes less is more.
I think wealth is great for a lot of things, but I see it really pull people down. They don’t call em trappings for nothing.
Some guy is wringing his hands in anguish as his 2 million just went to 600k. Another guy is deciding on which pizza to order and wondering how many Old Styles are in the fridge.
What do you think, Mrs H?
Mike
Dear Mike,
I think you ought to think about ordering a salad and switchin to diet coke.
You’re right about things though. At any level the stuff we own, owns us right back.
Think about the time you spend mowing your big yard, vacuuming your nice pool, cleaning up your fancy house.
Your things take up a bunch of your time.
Maybe you need to simplify. Not your mind though, that’s simple enough.
Now you remember Joe Biden in your prayers tonight. You ain’t got no real enemies, so you have to make do.
Love you boy,
Mrs H
Monday, September 29, 2008
Near Death Experience
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
Recently, I was golfing with a guy I work for at his country club. The day was perfect: not a cloud in the sky, light breeze, warm but not too hot. The course is one of those with mature trees, and beautiful settings on tees, greens, and all around.
Like a lot of country clubs the course was sparsely populated. Seemed like we had the whole course and day to ourselves.
We’d played about 6 holes and I cannot do anything wrong. I’m hitting fairways, landing on greens, making putts, just really relaxing, playing well, and having a great time.
In the middle of the 7th fairway a real pretty girl drives up in a golf cart. Sunlight is shining off her hair and smile as she stops and asks if we’d like something to drink. I pondered her question for the briefest of moments and responded that a beer might be nice.
She bounced gracefully out of the cart and pulled out an iced cold can of Heineken and asked if this would be ok. I pondered her new question for the duration it takes light to traverse the width of a dime, and said that it would be great.
Then, as I reached for my money clip, she stopped me, smiled sweetly and said “I really can’t take your money.”
That’s when I started looking at the sky. I expected the next moment to be drawn inexplicably toward a huge light - wonderful and warm and inviting . I also looked closely at her feet. Were they actually on the ground or was she floating.
It was only an instant, but so real.
Then: I came back. Just not my time, I guess.
Thought you’d want to know: I’m back.
Mike
Dear Mike,
Glad you got back: from Stupidville.
By the way, you owe your buddy about $6 for that Heiny from Heaven. Guests don’t pay for anything at a CC, but members do and then some.
Maybe you ought to keep your blue collar ass on the public course.
Sit up JUST a little straighter,
Mrs H
Recently, I was golfing with a guy I work for at his country club. The day was perfect: not a cloud in the sky, light breeze, warm but not too hot. The course is one of those with mature trees, and beautiful settings on tees, greens, and all around.
Like a lot of country clubs the course was sparsely populated. Seemed like we had the whole course and day to ourselves.
We’d played about 6 holes and I cannot do anything wrong. I’m hitting fairways, landing on greens, making putts, just really relaxing, playing well, and having a great time.
In the middle of the 7th fairway a real pretty girl drives up in a golf cart. Sunlight is shining off her hair and smile as she stops and asks if we’d like something to drink. I pondered her question for the briefest of moments and responded that a beer might be nice.
She bounced gracefully out of the cart and pulled out an iced cold can of Heineken and asked if this would be ok. I pondered her new question for the duration it takes light to traverse the width of a dime, and said that it would be great.
Then, as I reached for my money clip, she stopped me, smiled sweetly and said “I really can’t take your money.”
That’s when I started looking at the sky. I expected the next moment to be drawn inexplicably toward a huge light - wonderful and warm and inviting . I also looked closely at her feet. Were they actually on the ground or was she floating.
It was only an instant, but so real.
Then: I came back. Just not my time, I guess.
Thought you’d want to know: I’m back.
Mike
Dear Mike,
Glad you got back: from Stupidville.
By the way, you owe your buddy about $6 for that Heiny from Heaven. Guests don’t pay for anything at a CC, but members do and then some.
Maybe you ought to keep your blue collar ass on the public course.
Sit up JUST a little straighter,
Mrs H
Monday, September 22, 2008
Out of the closet
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
I’m learning about music. This seems strange. I’ve been playing the guitar since I was about 14, and singing even longer. Also played a horn of some kind in band for 5 years or so, but now I’m learning about music, and I’m wanting to learn more.
Lots more.
Something about the bass, this new instrument (and new band) is inspiring me to want to become a real musician.
You know I’ve been a very lazy guitar player. I used to capo around any song that had a single hard chord. (still do sometimes if all the chords are tough)
I’m even a lazier songwriter. Having written maybe 30 or 40 songs, I treat them like unloved step children. Couldn’t tell you the words or chords to more than a few, or
even list the songs themselves. They were important at the time, way important.
Now I have to stop and think how they go.
But now I’m starting to memorize music. I want to know the components of the chords, all about triads, and 7ths and 9ths and all the theory and how the bass can set the table.
I’m thinking I’ve been a closet bass player for years.
Do you know if there is a “Bass Player Pride” parade anywhere nearby?
Fondly,
Mike
Dear Mike,
Oh yes, I remember your band days. Used to love watching you at about 95 pounds marching and carrying that tuba that weighed 40 - especially on a windy day.
Maybe you are just growing up. Taking a little more care of the talents God has given you.
Its good for you. You’ve been resting and coasting for a long time.
Also doesn’t hurt that you are the weak link of the chain. I’ve heard those boys play, and you got some catching up to do - which is also good for you and your oversized ego.
And especially don’t forget this is ministry. Learn the theory. Set the table for the voices and other guitars, but remember to worship first and foremost. This ain’t no bar band.
Now get practicing.
Love and kisses,
Mrs. H
I’m learning about music. This seems strange. I’ve been playing the guitar since I was about 14, and singing even longer. Also played a horn of some kind in band for 5 years or so, but now I’m learning about music, and I’m wanting to learn more.
Lots more.
Something about the bass, this new instrument (and new band) is inspiring me to want to become a real musician.
You know I’ve been a very lazy guitar player. I used to capo around any song that had a single hard chord. (still do sometimes if all the chords are tough)
I’m even a lazier songwriter. Having written maybe 30 or 40 songs, I treat them like unloved step children. Couldn’t tell you the words or chords to more than a few, or
even list the songs themselves. They were important at the time, way important.
Now I have to stop and think how they go.
But now I’m starting to memorize music. I want to know the components of the chords, all about triads, and 7ths and 9ths and all the theory and how the bass can set the table.
I’m thinking I’ve been a closet bass player for years.
Do you know if there is a “Bass Player Pride” parade anywhere nearby?
Fondly,
Mike
Dear Mike,
Oh yes, I remember your band days. Used to love watching you at about 95 pounds marching and carrying that tuba that weighed 40 - especially on a windy day.
Maybe you are just growing up. Taking a little more care of the talents God has given you.
Its good for you. You’ve been resting and coasting for a long time.
Also doesn’t hurt that you are the weak link of the chain. I’ve heard those boys play, and you got some catching up to do - which is also good for you and your oversized ego.
And especially don’t forget this is ministry. Learn the theory. Set the table for the voices and other guitars, but remember to worship first and foremost. This ain’t no bar band.
Now get practicing.
Love and kisses,
Mrs. H
Friday, September 19, 2008
September 20, 2008
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
I think there are still good guys and bad guys.
And, as uncommon as it might be to say it out loud, I think the USA is still the good guy.
I read about Russia’s invasion of Georgia and how the first thing they did was destroy important infrastructure - like bridges that allow commodities in and out. Stuff that will take millions of dollars and months to rebuild. Stuff that cripples.
The same day I’m reading about the US building infrastructure of many kinds in Iraq. (not to mention tons of foreign aid projects in other parts of the world)
The concrete business in Venezuela is flourishing. So the government led by Hugo Chavez takes it over. (this after oil and several other successful industries have had a similar fate) Russia has had so many businesses confiscated by the government that they are having trouble getting foreign investors. (duh!)
The US also nationalized a few businesses. But these were business that, for reasons I can’t quite get my little mind around, are going down the tubes. Our government is trying to prop up, and support, not confiscate. There's a difference.
So while we wring our hands and say how bad we are, and how much we deserve to be hated, and we shouldn’t intervene, and blah blah blah blah… I couldn’t help but notice these two striking contrasts, and in just the last few weeks.
What do you think, Mrs H?
Mike
Dear Mike,
I ain’t wringing my hands, boy. It stings a little, but I agree with you. Even when it turns out wrong, I think our country tries to do the right thing.
Surprised you didn’t mention the latest “success” figures from Iraq.
Someone, not a politician, even used the phrase “winning the war”.
Now that will get Mrs. Pelosi’s skivvies in a twist.
Also saw that the World Health Organization cut its estimated number of malaria cases in half. Wasn’t W. a big force in getting netting etc.. to folks that needed it?
(imagine: W. helping save lives of poor people - that’s another twist for Nancy)
Now go put up your flag.
Mrs. H
I think there are still good guys and bad guys.
And, as uncommon as it might be to say it out loud, I think the USA is still the good guy.
I read about Russia’s invasion of Georgia and how the first thing they did was destroy important infrastructure - like bridges that allow commodities in and out. Stuff that will take millions of dollars and months to rebuild. Stuff that cripples.
The same day I’m reading about the US building infrastructure of many kinds in Iraq. (not to mention tons of foreign aid projects in other parts of the world)
The concrete business in Venezuela is flourishing. So the government led by Hugo Chavez takes it over. (this after oil and several other successful industries have had a similar fate) Russia has had so many businesses confiscated by the government that they are having trouble getting foreign investors. (duh!)
The US also nationalized a few businesses. But these were business that, for reasons I can’t quite get my little mind around, are going down the tubes. Our government is trying to prop up, and support, not confiscate. There's a difference.
So while we wring our hands and say how bad we are, and how much we deserve to be hated, and we shouldn’t intervene, and blah blah blah blah… I couldn’t help but notice these two striking contrasts, and in just the last few weeks.
What do you think, Mrs H?
Mike
Dear Mike,
I ain’t wringing my hands, boy. It stings a little, but I agree with you. Even when it turns out wrong, I think our country tries to do the right thing.
Surprised you didn’t mention the latest “success” figures from Iraq.
Someone, not a politician, even used the phrase “winning the war”.
Now that will get Mrs. Pelosi’s skivvies in a twist.
Also saw that the World Health Organization cut its estimated number of malaria cases in half. Wasn’t W. a big force in getting netting etc.. to folks that needed it?
(imagine: W. helping save lives of poor people - that’s another twist for Nancy)
Now go put up your flag.
Mrs. H
Thursday, September 18, 2008
September 19, 2008
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
Watched that movie Rudy last night. Don’t know if you’ve seen it, but its supposed to be one of those “inspirational” movies. Basically, it’s the story of a guy who is obsessed with going to Notre Dame.
So he works until he’s 30 or so, then lands in a prep school for a few years yearning for a time when he can paint football helmets.
Finally, his dream comes true and he gets to be a tackling dummy for 4 years. The movie climaxes on the last play of his last year when he actually gets in a game that is pretty much already decided. Then the team carries him off the field.
Wow.
Growing up Methodist, this whole Notre Dame magic is kind of lost on me. All I knew about it was there was a hunchback who rang the bell - not exactly what conjured up dreams in my little protestant existence.
But here’ s the point I want to make. The guy was a hobbit.
And, the way he gazed lovingly at Frodo, I’m pretty sure he was gay.
Now I’m a live and let live kind of guy, but its difficult for me to get inspired by a queer hobbit playing division 1 football.
Oh, they gave him a different name, and made him look all blue collar working in a steel mill and drinking beer. What the movie didn’t show was that he actually was a flower arranger and preferred white Russians.
(what a politically correct world we live in)
Then, at the very end of the movie, they make this BFD about little Samwise/Rudy being the only player carried off the field in Notre Dame history.
No shit.
Maybe next year they’ll get an elf to go out for the team and they can carry that wee one around as well.
Well gotta run, Mrs. H,
Mike
Dear Mike,
Paint chips. Must have been paint chips. Lots of em, and all leaded.
Mrs. H.
Watched that movie Rudy last night. Don’t know if you’ve seen it, but its supposed to be one of those “inspirational” movies. Basically, it’s the story of a guy who is obsessed with going to Notre Dame.
So he works until he’s 30 or so, then lands in a prep school for a few years yearning for a time when he can paint football helmets.
Finally, his dream comes true and he gets to be a tackling dummy for 4 years. The movie climaxes on the last play of his last year when he actually gets in a game that is pretty much already decided. Then the team carries him off the field.
Wow.
Growing up Methodist, this whole Notre Dame magic is kind of lost on me. All I knew about it was there was a hunchback who rang the bell - not exactly what conjured up dreams in my little protestant existence.
But here’ s the point I want to make. The guy was a hobbit.
And, the way he gazed lovingly at Frodo, I’m pretty sure he was gay.
Now I’m a live and let live kind of guy, but its difficult for me to get inspired by a queer hobbit playing division 1 football.
Oh, they gave him a different name, and made him look all blue collar working in a steel mill and drinking beer. What the movie didn’t show was that he actually was a flower arranger and preferred white Russians.
(what a politically correct world we live in)
Then, at the very end of the movie, they make this BFD about little Samwise/Rudy being the only player carried off the field in Notre Dame history.
No shit.
Maybe next year they’ll get an elf to go out for the team and they can carry that wee one around as well.
Well gotta run, Mrs. H,
Mike
Dear Mike,
Paint chips. Must have been paint chips. Lots of em, and all leaded.
Mrs. H.
September 17, 2008
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
Sorry I haven’t been in touch lately. I’ve been busier than a feminist bashing Sarah Palin. (why did I think that a smart, articulate, family oriented woman would be kind of accepted)
Note to any woman running for office: if you want the support of feminist groups, you need to be front and center in favor of legalized abortion. (sorry, “choice” is for selecting ice cream)
Anyway, on a significantly more important note:
My front yard is mowed! Heck yeah!
As soon as I pulled that 8 year old 26 inch Walmart push mower (aka "PowerDeathBlade") into the front yard, the neighbors were up and cheering.
One kid even brought over a can of pop. (I’ll be really glad when he turns 21) Pretty soon the whole neighborhood was into it.
My home schooled neighbor kids put up a banner - “way to go Mike.” That was awesome! Hey, those people are just like us. They put on their plaid-bib-overall-shorts-school-uniforms one leg at a time - just like the rest of us.
So, I’m all about accomplishment Mrs H.
How have you been, Dearie?
Mike
Dear Mike,
Who the hell you callin “Dearie”?
Glad you got some work done. You may want to tackle the back yard now. You might find some tennis balls, maybe a racket, maybe even a court.
Pretty sure there is a couch out there somewhere too, Mr. White Trash.
And layoff those sweet children. I ain't exactly seen you on the cover of GQ lately.
Mrs H.
Sorry I haven’t been in touch lately. I’ve been busier than a feminist bashing Sarah Palin. (why did I think that a smart, articulate, family oriented woman would be kind of accepted)
Note to any woman running for office: if you want the support of feminist groups, you need to be front and center in favor of legalized abortion. (sorry, “choice” is for selecting ice cream)
Anyway, on a significantly more important note:
My front yard is mowed! Heck yeah!
As soon as I pulled that 8 year old 26 inch Walmart push mower (aka "PowerDeathBlade") into the front yard, the neighbors were up and cheering.
One kid even brought over a can of pop. (I’ll be really glad when he turns 21) Pretty soon the whole neighborhood was into it.
My home schooled neighbor kids put up a banner - “way to go Mike.” That was awesome! Hey, those people are just like us. They put on their plaid-bib-overall-shorts-school-uniforms one leg at a time - just like the rest of us.
So, I’m all about accomplishment Mrs H.
How have you been, Dearie?
Mike
Dear Mike,
Who the hell you callin “Dearie”?
Glad you got some work done. You may want to tackle the back yard now. You might find some tennis balls, maybe a racket, maybe even a court.
Pretty sure there is a couch out there somewhere too, Mr. White Trash.
And layoff those sweet children. I ain't exactly seen you on the cover of GQ lately.
Mrs H.
Monday, September 15, 2008
September 15, 2008
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
How was your weekend? Did you catch the Cubs game last night?
Me either. That’s because it wasn’t televised - at least not downstate.
I spent the entire afternoon reclaiming my kitchen and office. Some people clean, some organize, some reclaim - not unlike turning a landfill into a city park. Anyway I’m Suzie Homemaker for 7 or 8 hours and decide I’d like to do a little something more conducive to my gender.
The Cubs/Astros game got moved to Miller Park in Milwaukee on account of Ike kinda changing agendas in Houston, and WGN was queued up to broadcast starting at 7.
I sit down at 7:15, snap an Old Style, and get ready to watch….Bob Newhart. No kidding. Bob Newhart.
Zambrano is throwing the first no-hitter for the franchise in 36 years and I’m watching Bob Freakin Newhart. I should have stayed on that channel - maybe I could have caught a couple Mary Tyler Moore episodes as well.
Oh well, tomorrow night they play the Brewers. Maybe I’ll get to see a little of that one - or maybe the Partridge Family.
Stay in touch,
Mike
Dear Mike,
You’re incredible. Your Cubbies are 7 and a half up in mid September and you ain’t happy. You got a short memory, boy.
Glad to year you’re cleanin up the house a little. Doesn’t hurt you to do some real work for a change. You may want to do a little mowing sometime too - pretty sure the neighbors are getting a petition going - again.
Be glad for what you got,
Mrs H
How was your weekend? Did you catch the Cubs game last night?
Me either. That’s because it wasn’t televised - at least not downstate.
I spent the entire afternoon reclaiming my kitchen and office. Some people clean, some organize, some reclaim - not unlike turning a landfill into a city park. Anyway I’m Suzie Homemaker for 7 or 8 hours and decide I’d like to do a little something more conducive to my gender.
The Cubs/Astros game got moved to Miller Park in Milwaukee on account of Ike kinda changing agendas in Houston, and WGN was queued up to broadcast starting at 7.
I sit down at 7:15, snap an Old Style, and get ready to watch….Bob Newhart. No kidding. Bob Newhart.
Zambrano is throwing the first no-hitter for the franchise in 36 years and I’m watching Bob Freakin Newhart. I should have stayed on that channel - maybe I could have caught a couple Mary Tyler Moore episodes as well.
Oh well, tomorrow night they play the Brewers. Maybe I’ll get to see a little of that one - or maybe the Partridge Family.
Stay in touch,
Mike
Dear Mike,
You’re incredible. Your Cubbies are 7 and a half up in mid September and you ain’t happy. You got a short memory, boy.
Glad to year you’re cleanin up the house a little. Doesn’t hurt you to do some real work for a change. You may want to do a little mowing sometime too - pretty sure the neighbors are getting a petition going - again.
Be glad for what you got,
Mrs H
Thursday, September 11, 2008
September 11, 2008
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
And how are you today my post-menopausal friend? Find your teeth this morning to get through the oatmeal and prune juice?
Enough about you dear, I heard yesterday that Rush talked two hours about Obama’s “lipstick on a pig” comment.
Really.
Just when I thought there might be a place for some substance.
Any wonder liberals consider conservatives a bit dull?
And callers to Rush’s show fawn strikingly like Oprah’s fan base. …Dittos to you too, dude. (whatever the hell that means - I‘m sure there is a secret handshake involved)
Anyway, I would absolutely love it if McCain and Palin would really take the high road for the rest of the campaign. Not beat up on Obama’s experience, or harp on the fact that Biden belongs in an Oscar Meyer wrapper in the meat case - just point out how well more government works and how well it doesn’t. Maybe get out the crayons and spell out what free trade actually means.
(ok, I really do miss Ronnie)
Well, I’ll let you go. You probably need to get back to your “stories” (aka As the World Turns)
Love ya,
Mike
Dear Smart Ass,
And aren’t you just full of yourself today!
What happened, did you actually kiss a real girl instead of getting your lovin over a computer screen? (You know, you do remind me a lot of Kip, except I remember your high school hair, and that was all Napoleon)
And, as usual, you’re missing the point. Rush is an entertainer. He isn’t the great white carrier of the conservative banner - no matter what he or his fans think.
Neither is Fox. Both sell ads and need ratings. They’ll follow any story they think will attract attention. (think a half step above National Enquirer)
And don’t get too excited about teasing my breakfast. Your time will come to eat like this faster than you can say triple bypass.
And leave my stories alone, dammit. Boy, you are annoying.
Mrs H.
And how are you today my post-menopausal friend? Find your teeth this morning to get through the oatmeal and prune juice?
Enough about you dear, I heard yesterday that Rush talked two hours about Obama’s “lipstick on a pig” comment.
Really.
Just when I thought there might be a place for some substance.
Any wonder liberals consider conservatives a bit dull?
And callers to Rush’s show fawn strikingly like Oprah’s fan base. …Dittos to you too, dude. (whatever the hell that means - I‘m sure there is a secret handshake involved)
Anyway, I would absolutely love it if McCain and Palin would really take the high road for the rest of the campaign. Not beat up on Obama’s experience, or harp on the fact that Biden belongs in an Oscar Meyer wrapper in the meat case - just point out how well more government works and how well it doesn’t. Maybe get out the crayons and spell out what free trade actually means.
(ok, I really do miss Ronnie)
Well, I’ll let you go. You probably need to get back to your “stories” (aka As the World Turns)
Love ya,
Mike
Dear Smart Ass,
And aren’t you just full of yourself today!
What happened, did you actually kiss a real girl instead of getting your lovin over a computer screen? (You know, you do remind me a lot of Kip, except I remember your high school hair, and that was all Napoleon)
And, as usual, you’re missing the point. Rush is an entertainer. He isn’t the great white carrier of the conservative banner - no matter what he or his fans think.
Neither is Fox. Both sell ads and need ratings. They’ll follow any story they think will attract attention. (think a half step above National Enquirer)
And don’t get too excited about teasing my breakfast. Your time will come to eat like this faster than you can say triple bypass.
And leave my stories alone, dammit. Boy, you are annoying.
Mrs H.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
September 10, 2008
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
The other day I was driving with two females. One happened to be a golden retriever, but female all the same. We were listening to one of those Sirius radios and we were dialed into the Oprah channel.
I like Oprah. I like her personality. She is an empathetic listener.
I think she wants to do good and does good.
Anyway, she is on her friend Gayle’s radio program, along with Gayle and her daughter. After about an hour or so of this I’m pretty sure I’m about to ovulate.
That aside, Oprah, Gayle, her daughter, and a group of several other women are talking (aka gushing) about Obama’s speech the night before. It was actually pretty cute for 45 minutes or so - these girls are really excited.
Oprah said watching him speak was the most important moment in her life. (she really should have gotten married and had a kid or three) She mentioned it in light of Rev. Martin Luther King, and a couple other black leaders, and important moments in the past.
She also said she would do anything to help him get elected, including stuffing envelopes or whatever other resource is available to her (and I’m thinking this is a bunch) She called him the man of light (which only creeped me out a little) and said that he pulled us all together spiritually (which only creeped me out a little more).
But then she said that his race didn’t matter.
What?
Ok Mrs. H, help me out here. Do you think if Obama was white or hispanic these girls would be peeing their pants? There’s nothing stupid about Oprah, but this sounds like utter bullshit to me.
What do you think?
Mike
Dear Mike,
First, even if you had the parts, you ain’t got the intellect to ovulate. But onto your question, I think you need a little more empathy yourself.
Maybe Oprah and the black community are over the top about Obama. But you gotta remember how far we’ve come. When Oprah was 15 years old, Selma and other places like it were way segregated. Blacks were treated poorly. Way poorly. Makes me ashamed of my country that I love. This was in our back yard.
And look at some of the lousy black leaders: Marion Barry? Jesse Jackson? Al Sharpton?
Now comes along a handsome, young, intelligent, responsible, family oriented black man running for the highest office in the land. I don’t like his more government ways anymore than you do, but I understand if his race supports him fervently.
How different is this from women voting solely for Hillary?
I think a black president would be good for our country. I’d prefer he or she comes from the other side of the aisle, but I’m thinking it may give hope and encouragement to a lot of Americans.
Not everybody sees things like you do.
Bye the way, how many times have you voted for a white male president?
And don’t be bad mouthin my girl Oprah again.
Love and kisses,
Mrs H.
The other day I was driving with two females. One happened to be a golden retriever, but female all the same. We were listening to one of those Sirius radios and we were dialed into the Oprah channel.
I like Oprah. I like her personality. She is an empathetic listener.
I think she wants to do good and does good.
Anyway, she is on her friend Gayle’s radio program, along with Gayle and her daughter. After about an hour or so of this I’m pretty sure I’m about to ovulate.
That aside, Oprah, Gayle, her daughter, and a group of several other women are talking (aka gushing) about Obama’s speech the night before. It was actually pretty cute for 45 minutes or so - these girls are really excited.
Oprah said watching him speak was the most important moment in her life. (she really should have gotten married and had a kid or three) She mentioned it in light of Rev. Martin Luther King, and a couple other black leaders, and important moments in the past.
She also said she would do anything to help him get elected, including stuffing envelopes or whatever other resource is available to her (and I’m thinking this is a bunch) She called him the man of light (which only creeped me out a little) and said that he pulled us all together spiritually (which only creeped me out a little more).
But then she said that his race didn’t matter.
What?
Ok Mrs. H, help me out here. Do you think if Obama was white or hispanic these girls would be peeing their pants? There’s nothing stupid about Oprah, but this sounds like utter bullshit to me.
What do you think?
Mike
Dear Mike,
First, even if you had the parts, you ain’t got the intellect to ovulate. But onto your question, I think you need a little more empathy yourself.
Maybe Oprah and the black community are over the top about Obama. But you gotta remember how far we’ve come. When Oprah was 15 years old, Selma and other places like it were way segregated. Blacks were treated poorly. Way poorly. Makes me ashamed of my country that I love. This was in our back yard.
And look at some of the lousy black leaders: Marion Barry? Jesse Jackson? Al Sharpton?
Now comes along a handsome, young, intelligent, responsible, family oriented black man running for the highest office in the land. I don’t like his more government ways anymore than you do, but I understand if his race supports him fervently.
How different is this from women voting solely for Hillary?
I think a black president would be good for our country. I’d prefer he or she comes from the other side of the aisle, but I’m thinking it may give hope and encouragement to a lot of Americans.
Not everybody sees things like you do.
Bye the way, how many times have you voted for a white male president?
And don’t be bad mouthin my girl Oprah again.
Love and kisses,
Mrs H.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
September 9, 2008
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
Can't believe it! Tina Fey is running for Vice President! Was able to download/view her entire acceptance speech. She was awesome. I knew SNL was a good launch pad for careers, but this is off the scale. And wow! I had no idea she had such a big family.
Mike
===============================
Dear Mike - my misguided friend,
Actually, that is Sarah Palin, Governor of Alaska, not Tina Fey. Why don't you take a minute or two, look around the house, and get a clue.
Fondly,
Mrs H.
===============================
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
Oh. Huh. Was Sarah Palin on at the same time as Chevy Chase?
Anyway what a find for McCain.
I was surprized at the choice when I first heard about it, but she really carried herself well.
What the heck are liberal women going to do? 5 kids, great career, hocky mom toughness, but real warmth, executive experience, husband in a labor union, and girl next door cute. I guess they can always fall back on the warmth and sweetness of Hillary, Nancy Pelosi, and the wicked witch of the west.
(I have a hard time telling those three apart)
I have a feeling this girl will eat Biden's lunch in a debate. I looked up "wiener" in the dictionary and there was an 8 x 10 glossy of Biden. Good picture, though.
I can take Obama as president. Not my favorite, but I made it through 8 years of Clinton.
But I'd rather have 8 years of Obama that 8 minutes of Biden as commander in chief - gives me the chills just thinking about it.
Anyway, I've gotta go. I'm going to track down some old Saturday Night Live dvd's and do my political "homework".
Thanks for the heads up,
Mike
===================================
Dear Mike,
Wow.
Don't you have a job? God help the people you work for, with, or in the same county.
Anyway, as painful as it is to agree with you, on Biden: I must. The guy definitely belongs in a plaid jacket selling used Chevys. At least Obama's heart is in the right place, just wish he'd had a job of some kind before attempting one of the most difficult on the planet. We'll see.
As always, talking to you has been a real treat. I need excedrin. Maybe the whole bottle.
Please leave me alone,
Mrs H.
Can't believe it! Tina Fey is running for Vice President! Was able to download/view her entire acceptance speech. She was awesome. I knew SNL was a good launch pad for careers, but this is off the scale. And wow! I had no idea she had such a big family.
Mike
===============================
Dear Mike - my misguided friend,
Actually, that is Sarah Palin, Governor of Alaska, not Tina Fey. Why don't you take a minute or two, look around the house, and get a clue.
Fondly,
Mrs H.
===============================
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
Oh. Huh. Was Sarah Palin on at the same time as Chevy Chase?
Anyway what a find for McCain.
I was surprized at the choice when I first heard about it, but she really carried herself well.
What the heck are liberal women going to do? 5 kids, great career, hocky mom toughness, but real warmth, executive experience, husband in a labor union, and girl next door cute. I guess they can always fall back on the warmth and sweetness of Hillary, Nancy Pelosi, and the wicked witch of the west.
(I have a hard time telling those three apart)
I have a feeling this girl will eat Biden's lunch in a debate. I looked up "wiener" in the dictionary and there was an 8 x 10 glossy of Biden. Good picture, though.
I can take Obama as president. Not my favorite, but I made it through 8 years of Clinton.
But I'd rather have 8 years of Obama that 8 minutes of Biden as commander in chief - gives me the chills just thinking about it.
Anyway, I've gotta go. I'm going to track down some old Saturday Night Live dvd's and do my political "homework".
Thanks for the heads up,
Mike
===================================
Dear Mike,
Wow.
Don't you have a job? God help the people you work for, with, or in the same county.
Anyway, as painful as it is to agree with you, on Biden: I must. The guy definitely belongs in a plaid jacket selling used Chevys. At least Obama's heart is in the right place, just wish he'd had a job of some kind before attempting one of the most difficult on the planet. We'll see.
As always, talking to you has been a real treat. I need excedrin. Maybe the whole bottle.
Please leave me alone,
Mrs H.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Sept 8, 2008
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
I finally have the remote all to myself. What do I do?
Thanks,
Mike
Dear Mike,
Well, dipstick. That actually is your cell phone. The TV remote doesn’t ring when you get a phone call. It would be so cool if your IQ wandered near 2 digits.
Take a couple weeks to figure out the new apparatus. Oops no, not that apparatus. That is your left buttock. Try again.
This is going to be fun.
Love and kisses,
Mrs. Higgins
I finally have the remote all to myself. What do I do?
Thanks,
Mike
Dear Mike,
Well, dipstick. That actually is your cell phone. The TV remote doesn’t ring when you get a phone call. It would be so cool if your IQ wandered near 2 digits.
Take a couple weeks to figure out the new apparatus. Oops no, not that apparatus. That is your left buttock. Try again.
This is going to be fun.
Love and kisses,
Mrs. Higgins
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