The Ketchup Haters Of America

If you are going to listen to Willie sing The Last Thing I Needed First Thing This Morning you ought to have a better drink than a grape flavored Gatorade.

I have other options, Shiner Bock in my fridge, Tequila, Scotch and Vodka in my pantry but I just don’t feel like pouring myself something stiffer.

Got a couple of surprises along with the normal good reasons to tilt one back and readily admit interest in doing more than sip but sometimes interest must remain a thought and not an action.

The Ketchup Haters Of America

You might not realize how emotional people can get about ketchup until you post about it on Facebook.

It is not as emotionally charged as discussing creamy versus chunky peanut butter or whether Colonel Sanders should be accused of stolen valor, but it is up there.

Anyhoo, it is a peculiar time of life and I wonder if one day I’ll look back and say it is a funny memory.

I kind of hope so because my birthday wasn’t particularly enjoyable and I’d like to think it is not a sign of how the next year is going to go.

If nothing changes it is going to be filled with some interesting moments, like today when one of my clients let one go and I had to fight not to start laughing like a 12 year-old boy.

Can’t tell you if he is that comfortable with me or if he was trying to play it off like nothing happened.

I almost asked him if he wanted to take a moment clear out the remainder of the Chicken Vindaloo from lunch but worried about whether that would incite my digestive system to launch a full mutiny.

Better to pretend nothing happen than worry about a rush for the exits from food previously consumed.

And now we pause while I offer to record a video of me dancing to Beyonce’s Dangerous In Love because teenage children love knowing their father is happy to share his moves for all of their friends.

Second pause comes because stress brings the mother of stomach aches to fight with the dancing dad.

Advice To Those Who Don’t Listen

I had this idea for a way to wrap Weekend In New England into this post but a phone call distracted me so now I am winging it.

Some folks have offered advice about how to handle certain situations I have encountered or am currently dealing with.

Some of it was good and some of it was their 10 minute story about why they would never do as I do because it makes them uncomfortable.

That is well and good but unsolicited lectures are no more useful than unsolicited advice.

If things happen for a reason I can’t fathom what or why is behind some of this and if it is all random, well I am not pleased about it.

The funny thing is I am so close I can see the damn shoreline. If I could throw the rope far enough some one could catch it and tie it to a tree.

That would be enough, I could pull the damn raft to shore.

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So I heard the other day about how quiet and shy I can be and chuckled a bit.

While it is true I can be both I would never describe myself as such or suggest I am unwilling to stir things up.

I don’t particularly like confrontation, but I am not afraid of it either.

That reminds me, as someone who has excelled at getting into trouble I don’t particularly like others getting me jammed up for their shenanigans.

If I am going to enjoy the tender mercies of another person’s discretion I would like to have enjoyed the moments that led up to that point.

That is a lesson I have shared with the kids, if you hang out with the wrong people you can get stuck with consequences you don’t particularly appreciate.

Soda Versus Pop

Some dude from Chicago engaged me in my annual reminder that real beaches require salt water and told me that soda is pop.

Or at least I think he did, dude spoke so fast it is hard for my little brain and tiny black heart to remember.

Anyhoo, I told him I don’t really spend time thinking about what I call a soft drink and tend to use a brand name like Fresca, Mr. Pibb or Cactus Cooler.

He asked if I still eat Corn Nuts and I said not often anymore, but back in the day I really liked them.

That reminds me of my comment about getting myself in trouble and how Mary O’Mahoney asked about my Corn Nuts and I said they are good to suck on.

She was none too pleased until she realized I really was sucking on them.

When she asked why I told her I wanted to ask someone out and didn’t want to chew on them and get pieces stuck in my teeth.

Twenty-seven years later I still snort at that ridiculous tale and know that truth is always stranger than fiction.

Don’t ask why because I won’t say more than I have proof.