Dear Mrs Higgins,
Recently I heard a high schooler say he couldn’t wait to get home and play with his wee.
I told the young man in a quiet voice, that I understood, but maybe that isn’t the best thing to talk about in public.
Shortly after that, another young man complained that he was exhausted from playing with his wee all night.
Kinda winced a bit on that one, but who knows, maybe he doesn’t have cable.
Later I heard a group of kids planning an entire party on Bill’s wee.
Hmm.
Well, as you know Mrs H, I’m a live and let live kind of guy.
And I’ve had my wild times. As you recall, sophomore year I was vice president of the chess club. So I know all about things getting a little crazy.
Not sure we have to have all this talk about it though.
Oh well, another generation. And I think someone needs to explain to Michael Phelps what “going green” really means.
What do you think Mrs H?
Mike
Dear Mike,
Its Wii, not wee. It is a video game. Do you ever leave your
office?
Maybe you should worry less about the new generation and
more about yours.
Too bad about young Phelps. The picture with the bong will likely not appear on Corn Flakes, although there may be a late night market there.
And yes, I’m sure you were quite the wild man - chess boy.
Mrs Higgins
Friday, February 6, 2009
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Pit Stop
Dear Mrs Higgins,
Returning from a grueling, important, high powered, business trip, a good friend of mine picked me up from the airport.
We are driving through a part of Chicago I’d rather see from the plane I just got off of, and my friend, who I’ll call Frank (although his real name is Tim) hits a pothole that could easily house a medium sized cow.
Frank/Tim, displaying excellent driving prowess, is able to keep the car from rolling over. But sure enough, in a couple hundred yards we are riding on 3 inflated and one flat.
Due to all the work, and stress, and exertion of my previous trip, I’ve taken a bit of a cold. And this lovely Chicago evening its about 10 with the wind howling.
When I remarked that I had a AAA card, Frank/Tim/Dip@#$% said he didn’t think they would come to this part of town, and if they did, they wouldn‘t be in a hurry.
Lovely.
So while I’m just delighted with Tim, he seems pretty giddy about driving a couple hours of Friday rush hour traffic to save me a few bucks on parking - with his 7 month old daughter in the back seat.
No worries. A couple sharp mechanics would get that tire changed in no time.
What that has to do with Tim and me, I’m not sure.
Fortunately, we had no one bother us. Not sure who would attack a pudgy, red faced, swearing, sneezing, coughing, lug wrench wielding maniac, but you just never know. (and Tim did have my back)
Only later, after dropping Tim and the baby at his house did I wonder how that road could have gotten that bad.
As I approached a toll booth on the expressway home, it became clearer. Gov Blago’s name appears in big letters on each toll road sign. I could almost picture his hand grabbing the change as I tossed it in the basket.
Anyway Mrs Higgins, watch out when you are driving. I know your eyes aren’t what they used to be.
Mike
Dear Mike,
Returning from a grueling, important, high powered, business trip, a good friend of mine picked me up from the airport.
We are driving through a part of Chicago I’d rather see from the plane I just got off of, and my friend, who I’ll call Frank (although his real name is Tim) hits a pothole that could easily house a medium sized cow.
Frank/Tim, displaying excellent driving prowess, is able to keep the car from rolling over. But sure enough, in a couple hundred yards we are riding on 3 inflated and one flat.
Due to all the work, and stress, and exertion of my previous trip, I’ve taken a bit of a cold. And this lovely Chicago evening its about 10 with the wind howling.
When I remarked that I had a AAA card, Frank/Tim/Dip@#$% said he didn’t think they would come to this part of town, and if they did, they wouldn‘t be in a hurry.
Lovely.
So while I’m just delighted with Tim, he seems pretty giddy about driving a couple hours of Friday rush hour traffic to save me a few bucks on parking - with his 7 month old daughter in the back seat.
No worries. A couple sharp mechanics would get that tire changed in no time.
What that has to do with Tim and me, I’m not sure.
Fortunately, we had no one bother us. Not sure who would attack a pudgy, red faced, swearing, sneezing, coughing, lug wrench wielding maniac, but you just never know. (and Tim did have my back)
Only later, after dropping Tim and the baby at his house did I wonder how that road could have gotten that bad.
As I approached a toll booth on the expressway home, it became clearer. Gov Blago’s name appears in big letters on each toll road sign. I could almost picture his hand grabbing the change as I tossed it in the basket.
Anyway Mrs Higgins, watch out when you are driving. I know your eyes aren’t what they used to be.
Mike
Dear Mike,
Next time you go on a “high powered business” trip, take your briefcase, not your skis.
And what in the world are you doin draggin that young daddy and his baby out to fetch your butt from the airport. I’ve seen that baby. She is as beautiful as her mama, and has no business riding through Chicago winter streets to save you a couple bucks.
Its called a taxi.
And if you are having trouble pulling a couple twenties out of your pocket, just close your eyes and pretend you’re back buying $6 beers at a ski lodge.
And my eyes are just fine. I just don’t drive after dark anymore.
You’ll get there too boy, maybe.
Mrs Higgins
Monday, February 2, 2009
Super Size
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
I’m channel surfing yesterday and reminded of Springsteen’s song “57 Channels and Nothin On” when all of sudden, there is the Boss himself!
Sweet!
Looks like a pretty similar crowd to most Springsteen shows when, all of sudden, they stop the concert for a football game.
No kidding, a football game.
And it was a couple teams nobody cares about anyway. I think it was St Louis and the Steelers.
I’d hate to see Springsteen interrupted for Bears/Packers, but these two nobodies?
Anyway, the Boss is aging pretty well, but Little Steven, well lets just say we may need a new nickname. I’m just glad HE didn’t have a wardrobe malfunction.
So anyway Mrs H, did you catch Bruce?
Mike
Dear Mike,
I did see your buddy during half time of the Superbowl.
A couple of us were aware it was the big game day, like maybe 200 million or so.
Way to keep up.
Also, for your information, the Cardinals moved to Phoenix from St. Louis in 1988. You may want to jot that down somewhere.
Funny, you badmouthing Little Steven. You got any mirrors that ain’t broke at your house, or did you lose a contact lens?
Its a new year, honey. Try and sit up a little straighter,
Mrs Higgins
I’m channel surfing yesterday and reminded of Springsteen’s song “57 Channels and Nothin On” when all of sudden, there is the Boss himself!
Sweet!
Looks like a pretty similar crowd to most Springsteen shows when, all of sudden, they stop the concert for a football game.
No kidding, a football game.
And it was a couple teams nobody cares about anyway. I think it was St Louis and the Steelers.
I’d hate to see Springsteen interrupted for Bears/Packers, but these two nobodies?
Anyway, the Boss is aging pretty well, but Little Steven, well lets just say we may need a new nickname. I’m just glad HE didn’t have a wardrobe malfunction.
So anyway Mrs H, did you catch Bruce?
Mike
Dear Mike,
I did see your buddy during half time of the Superbowl.
A couple of us were aware it was the big game day, like maybe 200 million or so.
Way to keep up.
Also, for your information, the Cardinals moved to Phoenix from St. Louis in 1988. You may want to jot that down somewhere.
Funny, you badmouthing Little Steven. You got any mirrors that ain’t broke at your house, or did you lose a contact lens?
Its a new year, honey. Try and sit up a little straighter,
Mrs Higgins
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