Dear Mrs. Higgins,
I read with great anticipation about the upcoming beer party at the White House. Nobody likes a cold one out back more than me, so naturally I assumed I’d be included.
Well, as they say: “ASSUME” makes an ass out of “U” and Joe Biden.
I didn’t even get a call.
I had my little cooler all ready and everything, from about noon - figured the copper could use another “regular guy” to hang out with.
Plus, I wanted to be there when Michelle came out with a stern look, and started counting empties.
But I guess its for the best. I figure after about 8 or 9 brewskis, Professor Gates and Sgt Crowley would start hugging and high fiving and calling each other “the man.”
“No, you da man!”
“No, no, YOU da man!”
Meanwhile the whole time Barack would be leaning back, smiling, knowing HE is the man, then sending Joe to the kitchen for more pretzels.
So how do I get invited to these events?
Mike
Dear Mike,
You’re a regular guy alright.
If you want to get to the White House lawn, I’d say
work on your hedge trimming skills.
Mrs Higgins
Friday, July 31, 2009
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
A leg to stand on
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
I’m sure you’ve noticed that politics have gotten particularly harsh lately, but I’ think we’ve just turned a corner.
There had been speculation about how tough the Republicans would be vetting President Obama’s Supreme Court nominee Sonia Sotomayer.
Little of this has to do with the women herself, just concern that there would be payback for the brutal attacks on nominees presented from Republican administrations. (think Bork)
Well, they broke her leg.
I know. I can’t believe it either.
How many Italians do we have in Washington DC? I mean, I’d totally expect this in Providence, or the North End of Boston, but DC?
Well of course they made it sound like an accident - at the airport, no less.
And that is a pretty good alibi. I’ve had a couple good falls myself in airports after a long delay. Usually while disembarking from a barstool from about the 800 block of Main Street
Margaritaville.
What do you think Mrs H? Is this the kind of hope and change we were hoping for?
Mike
Dear Mike,
It was an accident. Judge Sotomayer did, in fact, just fall.
The Republicans and the Italians are innocent.
And next time you are in an airport, maybe take a parachute for the long delays.
Mrs Higgins
I’m sure you’ve noticed that politics have gotten particularly harsh lately, but I’ think we’ve just turned a corner.
There had been speculation about how tough the Republicans would be vetting President Obama’s Supreme Court nominee Sonia Sotomayer.
Little of this has to do with the women herself, just concern that there would be payback for the brutal attacks on nominees presented from Republican administrations. (think Bork)
Well, they broke her leg.
I know. I can’t believe it either.
How many Italians do we have in Washington DC? I mean, I’d totally expect this in Providence, or the North End of Boston, but DC?
Well of course they made it sound like an accident - at the airport, no less.
And that is a pretty good alibi. I’ve had a couple good falls myself in airports after a long delay. Usually while disembarking from a barstool from about the 800 block of Main Street
Margaritaville.
What do you think Mrs H? Is this the kind of hope and change we were hoping for?
Mike
Dear Mike,
It was an accident. Judge Sotomayer did, in fact, just fall.
The Republicans and the Italians are innocent.
And next time you are in an airport, maybe take a parachute for the long delays.
Mrs Higgins
Sunday, May 3, 2009
MAY DAY! MAY DAY!
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
I thought May 1 meant putting little baskets of flowers on people’s front porch. What does that have to do with a plane in distress? Can't find the address? Flowers wilted?
Anyway, speaking of planes, I’m tired of people complaining about Air Force One and a couple fighter jets taking a spin to lower Manhattan.
People need to realize: It’s PICTURE day!
Lets keep our eye on what's important. Think of the photos!
We’ve got a lot more pressing issues to worry about like learning to eat pork chops through a surgical mask.
I don’t even drive past Taco Bell (aka “food from the land of death“) these days.
Hope you are protecting yourself,
Mike
Dear Mike,
I think we're going to be ok.
About 9 million people live in Mexico City, a couple hundred have shown swine flu.
And we are a little selective about who is wasting tax dollars. I have a feeling “picture day” cost a touch more than Detroit execs going to DC for bail out loans.
Maybe they should have taken camera’s.
And Mike, the mask is a great idea. Could slow down all your meals.
Mrs Higgins.
I thought May 1 meant putting little baskets of flowers on people’s front porch. What does that have to do with a plane in distress? Can't find the address? Flowers wilted?
Anyway, speaking of planes, I’m tired of people complaining about Air Force One and a couple fighter jets taking a spin to lower Manhattan.
People need to realize: It’s PICTURE day!
Lets keep our eye on what's important. Think of the photos!
We’ve got a lot more pressing issues to worry about like learning to eat pork chops through a surgical mask.
I don’t even drive past Taco Bell (aka “food from the land of death“) these days.
Hope you are protecting yourself,
Mike
Dear Mike,
I think we're going to be ok.
About 9 million people live in Mexico City, a couple hundred have shown swine flu.
And we are a little selective about who is wasting tax dollars. I have a feeling “picture day” cost a touch more than Detroit execs going to DC for bail out loans.
Maybe they should have taken camera’s.
And Mike, the mask is a great idea. Could slow down all your meals.
Mrs Higgins.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Dating and other natural disasters - part 3
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
I’m going through a bit of a “dry spell” with the ladies. Seems like they all “like me” but want to be “just friends.” None have actually said “pathetic loser,” but its been implied.
Last one just gave me the “friends” call. I could kind of see it coming. She hadn’t returned countless phone calls, emails, or even waved as I followed her at the grocery store, mall, and every other time she left the house.
Just trying to show that I’m interested.
The one before that never made the friends phone call, but made it pretty clear.
When I mentioned something about church, she said “oh, I bet you ring the bell” and then looked really closely at my back.
I asked to kiss her goodnight after a date and she suggested I just send her a fax instead.
Another announced that she was not going to have sex with me. Since we happened to be in the McDonald’s drive up I didn’t really think the topic was on the table.
At the time, I was more concerned with quarter pounder or Big Mac, or possibly: both.
Its gotten so bad, the other night I had to slip myself a rufi to get me undressed for a shower.
Any ideas Mrs. H?
Mike
Dear Mike,
Come to think of it, I never have seen you and old Quasi at the same time.
Hang in there Romeo. You’ll find someone who can see past your flaws.
(think: girls with white canes)
Just be yourself. Or better yet, don‘t.
Mrs Higgins
I’m going through a bit of a “dry spell” with the ladies. Seems like they all “like me” but want to be “just friends.” None have actually said “pathetic loser,” but its been implied.
Last one just gave me the “friends” call. I could kind of see it coming. She hadn’t returned countless phone calls, emails, or even waved as I followed her at the grocery store, mall, and every other time she left the house.
Just trying to show that I’m interested.
The one before that never made the friends phone call, but made it pretty clear.
When I mentioned something about church, she said “oh, I bet you ring the bell” and then looked really closely at my back.
I asked to kiss her goodnight after a date and she suggested I just send her a fax instead.
Another announced that she was not going to have sex with me. Since we happened to be in the McDonald’s drive up I didn’t really think the topic was on the table.
At the time, I was more concerned with quarter pounder or Big Mac, or possibly: both.
Its gotten so bad, the other night I had to slip myself a rufi to get me undressed for a shower.
Any ideas Mrs. H?
Mike
Dear Mike,
Come to think of it, I never have seen you and old Quasi at the same time.
Hang in there Romeo. You’ll find someone who can see past your flaws.
(think: girls with white canes)
Just be yourself. Or better yet, don‘t.
Mrs Higgins
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Exit Strategy
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
One of the downsides of skiing is the rich people. I try not to dislike someone who makes more or less money than me, but rich guys can really be annoying.
Here is how it works: they start out all “regular guy,” but when the conversation begins to slide into what looks like peer status, they make sure to clarify the class difference.
Me: “Great skiing today! Hi, I‘m Mike.”
Rich guy: “Yes it is. My pleasure, I‘m sure. Rodney.”
Me: “Good to meet you, Rodney. A lot less windy than yesterday.”
Rich guy: “Well, heh heh, it was calm as could be in the Swiss Alps yesterday.”
Me: “Wow, you were in Europe?”
Rich guy: “Yes, the Westwind was tied up in Rome, so we were stuck in the Lear last night. Just doesn‘t have the roominess or ride, but we struggled through.”
Me: (in my mind) “Yeah, well my 747 was in for an oil change at Jiffy Lube, so I just came out in the space shuttle.”
Me: (in real life) “Wow.” (always quick on my feet)
Rich guy: “So Mick, what do you do?”
Me: “Uh, its Mike. I’m a programmer. How about yourself Rodney?”
Rich guy: “Software eh? Well I’ve had my share of software companies. Such a bore dealing with nerdy little geeks.”
Me: (in my mind) “I know the secret handshake to THAT club.”
As Rodney continues detailing his life’s accomplishments, I‘m looking for a smooth way to exit the vicinity.
Unfortunately, at this point, we happen to be on a chair lift about 40 feet off the ground.
I’m mentally weighing: bailing out of the chair with a likely compound fracture, versus spending another 3 minutes with Rodney.
Then I remembered Lamaze breathing.
Rich guy: “… and as I was saying Mark, I absolutely stole this little villa in the south of France…”
Me: (concentrating on the tip of my left ski) … hee hee hee hee hee hee hee …
This can’t be much worse than your average contraction.
Anyway, Mrs. Higgins, I’m happy to say I made it to the top without injury.
Saw Rodney later in the day talking to a guy who appeared to be about to impale himself on a ski pole.
Mike
Dear Mike,
Glad you could get past your pain.
You know dear, you could be a little more patient. Did you ever think that maybe Rodney was dealing with insecurities in other parts of his life?
Everyone needs someone to talk to.
And, you’d last about 10 minutes in real labor.
Mrs. Higgins.
One of the downsides of skiing is the rich people. I try not to dislike someone who makes more or less money than me, but rich guys can really be annoying.
Here is how it works: they start out all “regular guy,” but when the conversation begins to slide into what looks like peer status, they make sure to clarify the class difference.
Me: “Great skiing today! Hi, I‘m Mike.”
Rich guy: “Yes it is. My pleasure, I‘m sure. Rodney.”
Me: “Good to meet you, Rodney. A lot less windy than yesterday.”
Rich guy: “Well, heh heh, it was calm as could be in the Swiss Alps yesterday.”
Me: “Wow, you were in Europe?”
Rich guy: “Yes, the Westwind was tied up in Rome, so we were stuck in the Lear last night. Just doesn‘t have the roominess or ride, but we struggled through.”
Me: (in my mind) “Yeah, well my 747 was in for an oil change at Jiffy Lube, so I just came out in the space shuttle.”
Me: (in real life) “Wow.” (always quick on my feet)
Rich guy: “So Mick, what do you do?”
Me: “Uh, its Mike. I’m a programmer. How about yourself Rodney?”
Rich guy: “Software eh? Well I’ve had my share of software companies. Such a bore dealing with nerdy little geeks.”
Me: (in my mind) “I know the secret handshake to THAT club.”
As Rodney continues detailing his life’s accomplishments, I‘m looking for a smooth way to exit the vicinity.
Unfortunately, at this point, we happen to be on a chair lift about 40 feet off the ground.
I’m mentally weighing: bailing out of the chair with a likely compound fracture, versus spending another 3 minutes with Rodney.
Then I remembered Lamaze breathing.
Rich guy: “… and as I was saying Mark, I absolutely stole this little villa in the south of France…”
Me: (concentrating on the tip of my left ski) … hee hee hee hee hee hee hee …
This can’t be much worse than your average contraction.
Anyway, Mrs. Higgins, I’m happy to say I made it to the top without injury.
Saw Rodney later in the day talking to a guy who appeared to be about to impale himself on a ski pole.
Mike
Dear Mike,
Glad you could get past your pain.
You know dear, you could be a little more patient. Did you ever think that maybe Rodney was dealing with insecurities in other parts of his life?
Everyone needs someone to talk to.
And, you’d last about 10 minutes in real labor.
Mrs. Higgins.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Not always what they seem
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
Remember my new coffee friend Jose? Well there is a problem.
Turns out, those weren’t coffee plants. I should have guessed something due to all the giggling I’ve been hearing. But, as you know, I don’t speak Spanish, so how could I tell.
Also, 5 empty boxes of Girl Scout cookies should have caught my attention.
(well ok, I was kind of in on the shortbreads, but 4 of those I had nothing to do with)
Also turns out Jose, isn’t Jose. He’s Ernie. And, instead of being from some place really cool like Brazil or Costa Rica, he’s from Valparaiso Indiana.
So instead of worrying about immigration, now I’ve got the DEA all over the joint. (sorry, bad choice of words) Really hope they don’t confiscate my new coffee maker.
Sounds like Valpo Ernie may be going in for awhile. Just when you think you know a guy.
Mike
Dear Mike,
Sorry about your new friend’s departure.
How many boxes of Girl Scout cookies do you have around there?
Next time, why don’t you make a donation to the Girl Scouts and go buy an apple?
Mrs. Higgins
Remember my new coffee friend Jose? Well there is a problem.
Turns out, those weren’t coffee plants. I should have guessed something due to all the giggling I’ve been hearing. But, as you know, I don’t speak Spanish, so how could I tell.
Also, 5 empty boxes of Girl Scout cookies should have caught my attention.
(well ok, I was kind of in on the shortbreads, but 4 of those I had nothing to do with)
Also turns out Jose, isn’t Jose. He’s Ernie. And, instead of being from some place really cool like Brazil or Costa Rica, he’s from Valparaiso Indiana.
So instead of worrying about immigration, now I’ve got the DEA all over the joint. (sorry, bad choice of words) Really hope they don’t confiscate my new coffee maker.
Sounds like Valpo Ernie may be going in for awhile. Just when you think you know a guy.
Mike
Dear Mike,
Sorry about your new friend’s departure.
How many boxes of Girl Scout cookies do you have around there?
Next time, why don’t you make a donation to the Girl Scouts and go buy an apple?
Mrs. Higgins
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Issues in Left Field
Dear Mrs. Higgins,
It started with Uncle Stan. Then my big brother Cecil, who is kinder and gentler (and would probably wince at the Bush Sr. reference). Then Donald Miller, the Blue Like Jazz guy. And now: Anne Lamott.
I’m starting to love liberals. I think this is a problem.
Don’t get me wrong, I’d still rather see a person get a job than a handout. I believe unions are a big part of what’s wrong with our economy, corporations can actually be good things, less government is always better, and Reagan was the best president this side of Lincoln.
But liberals aren’t stupid. It would be a lot handier for me if they were.
And now, some are worshiping the same Jesus I do.
Not mother earth, or the sky, or trees, or Al Gore, Jesus.
I even like Obama. So far out of dozens of things he has proposed, I agree with two of them: revamping education and stem cell research.
The rest of his stuff, not even close.
And I even liked him on Leno the other night, although W would have been impeached and probably shot for the “Special Olympics” comment.
(most likely during the next commercial break)
Anyway, Mrs. H, I liked it a lot better when I considered all liberals short sighted, atheistic, idiots.
I don’t think I want to start loving these people.
What do I do?
Mike
Dear Mike,
You may be starting to grow up.
Of course you can love people with opinions different than yours.
Not everyone thinks like you do.
(that in itself is evidence of a kind and loving God)
Just love them.
And once in a great while, when you aren’t proclaiming your truth from on high, you can be quiet and listen.
You don’t have to join the ACLU, but you can listen.
And I agree with you about Ronnie.
(agreeing with you always makes my stomach a little upset - now where‘s my Pepto)
Love and kisses,
Mrs H.
It started with Uncle Stan. Then my big brother Cecil, who is kinder and gentler (and would probably wince at the Bush Sr. reference). Then Donald Miller, the Blue Like Jazz guy. And now: Anne Lamott.
I’m starting to love liberals. I think this is a problem.
Don’t get me wrong, I’d still rather see a person get a job than a handout. I believe unions are a big part of what’s wrong with our economy, corporations can actually be good things, less government is always better, and Reagan was the best president this side of Lincoln.
But liberals aren’t stupid. It would be a lot handier for me if they were.
And now, some are worshiping the same Jesus I do.
Not mother earth, or the sky, or trees, or Al Gore, Jesus.
I even like Obama. So far out of dozens of things he has proposed, I agree with two of them: revamping education and stem cell research.
The rest of his stuff, not even close.
And I even liked him on Leno the other night, although W would have been impeached and probably shot for the “Special Olympics” comment.
(most likely during the next commercial break)
Anyway, Mrs. H, I liked it a lot better when I considered all liberals short sighted, atheistic, idiots.
I don’t think I want to start loving these people.
What do I do?
Mike
Dear Mike,
You may be starting to grow up.
Of course you can love people with opinions different than yours.
Not everyone thinks like you do.
(that in itself is evidence of a kind and loving God)
Just love them.
And once in a great while, when you aren’t proclaiming your truth from on high, you can be quiet and listen.
You don’t have to join the ACLU, but you can listen.
And I agree with you about Ronnie.
(agreeing with you always makes my stomach a little upset - now where‘s my Pepto)
Love and kisses,
Mrs H.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)