Someone I love to Hate.

An invitation for dinner and the theater is ‘instrumental in my loathing for him’. He has as many years under his belt as I, and yet his hair only shows a ‘sprinkling of gray’ and his waistline does not give the impression of an ‘over-inflated life preserver.’

All of his muscles appear to be in the proper place and his skin is taut without the resemblance of ‘cracked leather.’  He neither groans nor reaches for support when he sits or rises. He seems to be in complete control of his faculties.

When questioned about anything, his response is not the; “huh,” or “Ahh-ruuhh” which has become synonymous with our own mode of speech. He does not receive a pat on the head and the words; “there – there,” from others on the rare occasions when he will appear in public.

His optimistic outlook contradicts the impression that most people hold for those of us who make up the ranks of “senior citizens.” His accounts of, eighteen holes of Golf, followed by a ten-mile RUN;  brings about a severe case of dry heaves from the ones of us who are still out of breath from merely ‘getting out of our beds’. How do we tell him that his wanton display of vitality is despicable? Would he be offended if we simply said to him;, “You make me sick,” sick, ” sick!.”

This was my thinking for years until I discovered that all of this is “A FARCE!.”  His salt and pepper hair is a result of many hours spent in the “Cut & Curl” Salon”. The trim waistline can be attributed to “Playtex.”

The tight, smooth skin attests to the fact that “Cover Girl” really does work.” Countless hours of practicing “Controlled Breathing;”  is responsible for the lack of grunts and groans. What would normally be glances of sympathy, in his case are interpreted as looks of “I Can’t Believe It.”  “Deep down; his life in general is as ‘Rotten as the majority of us.”

“The golf game,” consists of nothing more than the insertion of a floppy disc into the modem and following instructions from “Micro-Soft.”  “The five mile run;” is accomplished through the auspices of a, Video tape of Bill Clinton’s latest excursion around Washington.

Let’s face it, he is as decrepit and miserable as we are; however, he does have one thing going for him. He is an, “Avid devotee of the Acting Profession”. His ability to hold the attention of his audience is second to none. It concerns me that he has never been presented an award for his efforts by the “Academy of Arts and Sciences.”

The ever present “Witty Remarks,” which he employs in response to any and all situations can be found in the current issue of “Reader’s Digest.”

Questions about his youthful demeanor are usually answered with quotes from “Health & Fitness.” His desire to remain forever young at whatever the price is of the utmost importance to him.

Even an invitation to dinner must be extended well in advance in order for him to; “Touch up” his face: “Wiggle into the girdle”: “Rehearse a humorous Comment,” and wait for the; “Heavy Breathing to subside after Putting on his Shoes”.

“God love him:  I hate him”: “And it’s such a pleasure to do so!”.

Demijon

“INSTRUCTIONS.”

Like so many other things, the instructions that are packed along with most new and innovative products are designed to drive me up the wall. Trying to follow them by the letter is almost an impossible task for me. I don’t think that I’ve ever tried to assemble anything in which the instructions were written in plain everyday language. I usually get to a point and end up taking the item apart and starting over, because;  “I have either misread, or have forgotten step 6-A, fig. 3.”

I am sure that these instructions make perfect sense to the designers of the product, but what about all of us that have to labor over them and try in vain to come up with a product that looks anything like the picture on the box.

Over the years I have found that the words, “Some Assembly Required;” has an altogether different meaning. The TRUE meaning of these three words is that:  “In one corner of this box is the ‘plastic bag’ with ‘369 different little ‘do-dads’; that must fit together in a certain way or else; “The darned thing won’t work”, AND; “An engineering degree is helpful.”

Searching the entire box exposes 216 screws, that look identical but the instructions tell us that the ones with 3/64th inch threads, are to be separated from the ones with 5/32nd inch threads. “Now, I ask you”?  “Just how many of us laymen can even read the 32nd and 64th graduations on a ‘Ruler’, to say nothing of trying to distinguish between the two screws with the naked eye?”

Then there are parts A, B, C, and D. As a general rule; somewhere along the way, the labeling of one or more of these parts has been forgotten and step 4-C, fig. 2, is not completely clear as to where the unlabeled parts must be fitted.

To add insult to injury, the instructions specifically state that “glue must be applied to the first two operations,” {and by the time I have figured out that:  The darned thing is assembled wrong:  The glu e has already dried and it is impossible to “separate these parts.

Surely someone that is smart enough to invent this thing in the first place; can at least put the different parts in some order that is easy to understand.  Who cares if it does not fit in one box. Either assemble it to start with, or put all the parts in the holes where they belong and stop this business of confusing us.

Warning:”  “Mr. INVENTOR!”  “Since no one listens to me;? I suppose that I will simply have to read the box carefully and when it says “Some Assembly Required:”  “Either place it back on the shelf, or pay an additional amount to hire one of their Engineers to put it together for me.”  “Perhaps this is what they hoped for in the first place.”

Instruction sheets have rankled me for so long that I am starting a support group with the title “D H A S A R,” (dumb heads against some assembly required). Hopefully I am not the only one that has trouble with reading instructions and if not, I will gladly welcome you into our little group.

“If you are interested in joining, send check or money order to “D H A S A R,” in care of me. You will receive an embossed identification card, an easy to follow guidebook and our own specially designed tool kit, ‘(some assembly required)”…

Demijon

“A BLOG;” – “A terrible thing to waste!”

I wonder if I am the only one to suffer the dreaded disease called “non-recall-its?” During the course of my daily activities; I think of hundreds of items that:  If presented in the form of an Essay, a Short Story, a Blog Post, or even a Novel: Any one of which, would be a prime candidate for at least the ‘top-ten’ on the best seller list.

Alas; the blinking Cursor on the monitor screen at 4:00 a.m. does absolutely nothing to bring back those wonderful thoughts. Even the second and third cup of 100 proof Coffee; does not help.”   “My mind is as empty as yesterday’s Slop Jar.”

Why has Bill Gates not designed and marketed a computer that will fit in one’s shirt pocket and has the ability to record and produce these thoughts at the time we conceive them? I would certainly hope that he is committed to revolutionize the literary world with a product that would be a deterrent to the above stated malady.

If Microsoft is indeed considering such a product, I suggest that it include an ‘Automatic “Thesaurus;” an ‘Automatic “Spell-Checker”; and an ‘Automatic  “Grammar-Checker”; that requires only a ‘mistake’ to activate.  Perhaps such a product would enable me to join the ranks of the “Country’s Best Authors”.

“If only I had sense enough to learn to use it.”

Demijon

“NUMBER: PLEASE?”

Believe me: I go ‘w-a-a-y-y’ back to when telephones were wooden boxes mounted on the wall. To call someone, one had to ring Central and ask for a particular person. Then, the dialed ‘party lines’ were introduced. This was a boost to the morale of the neighborhood ‘gossipers’ since it was now possible to,listen in”.

As the number of subscribers reached the point of saturation for the number of rings, individual numbers were assigned on private lines. This innovation put a damper on the spread of news throughout the community.

We were, however, required to depend on the telephone company to provide us with long distance service. We dialed “O” and gave the operator the numbers and we were connected. This service began as very expensive; but gradually settled around 10 /12 cents per minute. Then came ‘deregulation wars;’ and other long distance carriers jumped on the band wagon and the cost dropped to around 7 / 8 cents per minute.

Most of us ‘Frugal,’ “Thrifty,” “Stingy,” folks were continually looking for ways to curtail expenses when we discovered the Warehouse club calling card.  All we had to do to gain access to long distance service for around 3 1/2 cents per minute; was to get this card..

Apparently, this worried many of the carriers since we are bombarded with newspaper and television ads, hyping their service. I suppose the fact that we are not listed among the subscribers for long distance service gives all of them free rein to solicit us.

A representative for one of the providers called at my door one afternoon. He identified himself and said that he was here to save me money. I asked him how. His response was, “If you subscribe to our telephone service, our cable service, AND our internet service, you will save substantially on your long distance service.”

“Can you beat 3 1/2 cents per minute,” I asked?

“No,” he replied.     “NUFF SAID!”   “Bye.”

Now: The latest innovation to worry our already over-taxed brain is to attempt understanding the Cell – Phone. Packed inside this small container, about the size of a package of Cigarettes, is a Telephone, a Camera, a Calculator, a Calendar, a Phone Directory, an Answering Machine, a Recorder, and much, much more.  Today’s world is not geared to those of us, who cannot;  “Chew Gum and walk at the same time.”
Demijon

You’ve noticed???; – That I’m very good at telling stories; Over and Over and Over…

Posted in Uncategorized

“FODDER.”

Yesterday; my lovely roommate dispatched me to the local Produce Market, for some ‘fresh corn’.  Now, you all know me. I simply can’t keep my mouth shut.  I ‘must’ make a weak attempt to find humor in any and all situations.

Upon entry into the 94 year old building, the vivacious young Co-Owner asked if she could help me.  I made an effort to appear serious when I replied, “Yes; I have been sent for four ears of corn and a bundle of fodder.”

By the look on her face, it was evident that she did not know what I was talking about and she finally asked; “What is fodder?”  However, her husband, who was manning the scales and register, apparently was familiar with the drudgery of stripping the leaves from cornstalks to be used for food for Horses and Mules.

This incident brought to mind that there are many people who are on the near side of fifty years old; that know nothing of the unpleasant chores required of folks that depended on what could be raised on a farm for their subsistence. It was not a matter of running to the local Supermarket for items that were needed. In most cases: “You raised it or you done without.”

Corn, for example, was a necessary staple. It was planted in early Spring and nurtured until ears formed on the stalks.  When the silks on the ears turned brown, Corn was picked for human consumption.

The leaves were then stripped from the stalks , bundled and allowed to dry for animal food. The remaining ears were left to dry on the stalks, and to be gathered in the Fall for more animal food and, most importantly;”  to be shelled and ground into Cornmeal and Grits.

Cornmeal was converted into “Cornbread;” and was a dietary staple for most families along with other vegetables that were either “Canned,” or otherwise preserved during the Summer months,

It was, at best, a hard life; but as most ‘Senior Citizens’ will assure you, there are no permanent scars in evidence, on anyone who was raised on a farm “back when.”

No research was needed for this article simply because I was there.”

Demijon

Origin of Jay Henry & Susie Mae

Susie Mae, and Jay Henry, are figments of the author’s imagination and bear no resemblance to anyone living or dead.  They were created to amuse the reader with fictitious events derived from memories of a time when life was not as fast paced; and technology was in its infancy.

Susie Mae,  is depicted as a ‘strong-willed’, ‘vain’, ‘unique’, individual; who takes pride in her talents for cooking: Designing the latest fashions: Impressing others, and generally seeking answers for anything she does not understand.  For comprehension on ‘just-about-any, subject;’ she depends entirely on her handsome roommate, Jay Henry, honey.

Jay Henry, on the other hand; is a sophisticated personality that does not hesitate to give an opinion on any issue.  From his vast storehouse of knowledge on any and all subjects, he  ‘splains’ things to her, and receives her usual response of  “Jay Henry, honey: You’s so smart.”  By being employed at Th’ Saw Mill;” Jay Henry is always grateful for the use of the Company Truck whenever he is off duty.

Their abode is a cabin in the backwoods; with the bare essentials for comfortable living.  Their only transportation consists of the Company log truck when necessary for the commute to the nearest shopping “Mall” called “Th’ Store;” that is located about 2 miles across ”Th’ Creek” 

Walking the distance; and across the creek; is accomplished by “Cooning” a slippery foot log.  ‘Th’ Store’ houses the only telephone in the area and crossing the Foot-Log, is a constant concern for Susie Mae; every time she walks to Th’ Store for her s,upply of ‘Feed Sacks’; that are the source for her “Frocks:” Or to purchase staples such as Wennies, Loaf Bread, and Potted Meat. 

She will usually, only tackle the ‘Foot-Log,’ ‘without Jay Henry, when purchasing their “Penny Drink” and “Ice”; for “DINNER,”  (Lunch); is necessary, and when Jay Henry is ‘Pulling Fodder;’ or similarly engaged.

SILAS:  The owner and operator of the establishment, is a devoted admirer of Susie Mae’s resourcefulness and orders all his ‘Chicken Feed’ in a wide variety of colorful prints in order that she might wear new and different ‘Frock’ when The Old Maid Club meets on a weekly basis.  He also acts as Telephone Operator, whenever Junior or Rocky Phil has a need to talk to their Ma.

Miss Mazie is Silas’s wife and Susie Mae’s mentor.  She is ‘depended on,’ to furnish all the local gossip during the weekly card games or the monthly meetings of the Cross Creek Quilting Circle.

“IMPORTANT:”  Since the telephone is located in Th’ Store, it is easy enough for Miss Mazie to lift the receiver and be the first in the community to know that “Perline Alford is “in a family way”, or that “Merlowe Jenkins ran off with that lighting-rod salesman.”

This beloved couple was conceived within the mind of “John Sellers;” solely for the entertainment of his dedicated fans.  If these rambling articles trigger a smile from their readers; then the hunt-and-peck system, of writing with a computer that thinks ‘it is smarter than the author,’ will not have been in vain.

“So Sez  DEMIJON.”

 

HARMONY

I dearly love the sound of ‘four-part harmony’.  The mingling of LEAD, TENOR, BARITONE and BASS can always send shivers down my spine.  Even as a child this style of singing was a favorite of mine.  My family indulged in this type of music; although some might say not very well.  It did, however, offer us the opportunity to use what talents that we possessed and was pleasing to us, if not to others.

The music that we were most familiar with was Gospel.  This form of music leaned heavily toward four-part harmony.  Four voices, perfectly pitched and blended into one sound while singing praise and thanksgiving is almost a religion in itself.

The love of singing harmony was not limited to records and airwaves.  It was prevalent in cotton fields, barbershops, and homes.  Anywhere, that four people with the ability to carry one of the parts would get together, became a theater and could usually draw a crowd.

When I was young, singing was done for the love of it rather than for commercial reasons.  Sometimes there were contests, but usually; no group entered with the desire to win:  But rather, for the sheer enjoyment of making a joyful sound.

I still get ‘goose bumps’ when I hear some of the great quartets harmonizing.  The love of harmony has stayed with me for all these many years.  I once; was a member of a Barbershop Chorus that included men from all walks of life:  Doctors, Judges, Laborers, Cooks and Clerks.  They participated for only one reason, their love of close harmony.

They sported a very unique logo that stated, “If you’re too busy to sing, you’re too busy.”

When I hear a group with the ability to harmonize: but the music that they choose to sing is only the lead part, I get a sad feeling and think; “what a waste.”  “They could sound so good, and inspire so many, if only they would utilize their God given talents.”

I know that some music is not written for harmony: But if it IS, then go for it.  There is nothing more soothing and inspiring, than to hear voices blended so closely that you cannot determine just who is singing which part.

I am sure that there are those who will disagree with me:  And this is their right:  But to me; the ‘good sounds of music’, will always be FOUR-PART HARMONY.

Swe-e-e-e-t-t  Ad-a-a-l-l-i-i-n-e…..

Demijon

TID-BITS

I have a spelling check or;

It came with my P.C.

It plainly marks four my revue;

Mistakes I can-ot sea.

I’ve run these poem threw hit;

I’m sure your please 2 no,

It’s letter perfect in ever weigh;

My check or tolled me sew.

———–

“PREACHERS CAN’T WIN.”

If he preaches too long, he’s long winded;  If his sermon is short, he didn’t prepare it.

If the church has a surplus, he’s a businessman;  If he mentions money, he’s greedy.

If he visits with his congregation,, he’s “Being Pushy;”  If  he doesn’t, he’s antisocial.

If he holds fund raisers, he’s extravagant;  If he doesn’t, the offering is inadequate.

If he listens; and advises sinners: He’s a meddler; If he doesn’t, he’s being complacent.

If he preaches in a quiet voice, he’s boring;  If he raises his voice, he’s being theatrical.

If the service begins on time, his watch is fast;  If one minute late, a tee time is missed.

If he leads the music, he’s showing off;  If he doesn’t, he’s incompetent.

If he decorates the church, he’s wasting money; If he doesn’t, he’s letting it deteriorate.

If he’s young; He’s ‘not experienced;  If he’s old; ‘perhaps he ought to retire’.

BUT—“IF HE DIES, THERE WILL NEVER BE ANYONE WHO CAN REPLACE HIM”!

“IT REALLY IS TIME TO GO”.

A three year old boy and a five year old girl were playing house.  Hand in hand, they rang the doorbell of their neighbors house.  The neighbor opened the door and asked, “How may I help you?”

The girl said, “We’re playing house.  This is my husband and I’m his wife.  May we come in?”

“Of course,” answered the neighbor, “Would you like some cookies and lemonade?”

“Yes, thank you,” said the girl as they accepted the tall glass, & a plate of cookies.

After a while, the neighbor asked, “Would you care for more?”

The little girl replied ,,,!  “No, thank you,” she said, “We have to go.” 

“MY HUSBAND HAS WET HIS PANTS.”                                                                     

Enjoy,  Dj.

“BIG BOB”

 “HE;” was taking his first ride in an Commercial Airliner.  His fondness for speed was settled by watching the, “NASCAR CIRCUIT,” with names like “Earnhardt”, “Flock”, “Baker”, “Gordon,”  “Hendrick,”  “Johnson,” and many other drivers that made the ‘Fast Automobile Challenge’, so popular throughout the South.

“My Daddy tole me when I’se jus a youngun ta keep boff my feet on th’ groun’ an’ that thare’s whot I aim ta do. Wudn’t be on this heah’un if they wus a ‘nother way ta git ta New Yawk ‘fore mornin.”  “Order’d me one uv them Jay-pan gals outten that thare Singles Catalogue an’ she’s a’coming in tomorrer.”

He was greeted at the doorway to the plane by a beautiful flight attendant who asked if he preferred the smoking section. Big Bob was quick to say, “If this heah airplane smokes, hit’s a-burnin’ oil.”    “If Y’all’ll take hit oveh to; “C.B.’s Garage an’ Sodie Shop;”  “He’ll put a set uv rings an’ points in hit in ‘bout a week if he ain’t drunk.”

She explained that the smoking section was where passengers smoked cigarettes and his reply was, “Naw sugah, I’ll jus set on th’ chewin’ side, iffen hits all th’ same ta you.”  She directed him to his assigned seat with the caution to fasten his seat belt. “Hell, honey, I ain’t nevah hooked no belt up on my tractur an’ hit ain’t nevah throwed me yit.”

She smiled and explained that regulations required the seat belts were to be fastened during takeoff and landing. Big Bob said, “Sugah, you jus make sartin’ that driver dodges them other airplanes an’ lan’s this heah thang an’ I’ll take kere uv me.”

He was seated beside a business man on a routine trip to the Big Apple who asked, “Do you travel to New York often?”. Big Bob replied, “Naw, I ain’t nevah been outten lower Masadonie County ‘cept that time I got hauled inta court fer fightin’ that theah Hippy oveh in Ballsom County;”  “You?”

The man explained that his business required him to make frequent flights to different parts of the country, to which Big Bob asked, “Ever been ta Nu-Orlenes?” When the man stated that he had indeed attended the Super Bowl in New Orleans, Bob said,

“I ain’t innersted in no football game, I wus axeing ’bout them places whare them fellers rassle allegaters. Folks tell me that they’s more fun than th’ race at Talledega when Ernhardt wrecks.”

“Billy Joe tolt me he seen one uv them rasslers up at Chimbley Rock oncet but he wont no reel rassler. Billy Joe sez he had painted his dog ta look lak a allegater. Atter a while, Billy Joe, he axed fer his dollar back an’ that man sez; “hail no.” Billy Joe, he flew mad then; an busted out three uv th’ man’s teeth.”  “I’ll tell you one thang, rat now;”  “Ain’t nobodie  messes wiff Billy Joe an’ his money.”

When the man assured Bob that he had no interest in either the race or the reptile farm, Bob said, “Sheeit far, buddy, you musta ain’t had no fun a’tall. Since you ain’t never done no innersting thangs, I ble’ve i’ll jus’ catch me a little nap ‘fore this heah airplane gits back onna groun’ an’ I has ta meet th’ little womern.”

He pushed the button that signaled the flight attendant and when she responded, he asked, “Sugah, you got any long-neck Miller Hi-Life in th’ ice box? Kinda helps me sleep.”

The amused businessman then realized that he had been witness to a part of Americana that he had thought of as belonging to another “ERA.”  Notwithstanding was the fact that he had actually; met and talked to a genuine:::  l“Baccer-Chewin”, “Long-Necked Loving:” “Dyed-in-the Wool; “Red Neck;” in the person of Big Bob from “Lower Macadonia.”

“THIS WAS AN HONOR; RESERVED FOR ONLY A FEW:”  “BUT CHERISHED BY MANY:” 

Jay Henry