The Geriatric Goldfish

                                                                      

                                                              

When our youngest son was in kindergarten, we attended a school carnival where he was awarded a tiny goldfish for winning at ring toss. We proudly carried him out in his baggie, and set out to purchase his starter home. Sensing his loneliness, my boy suggested that we find him a roommate. When there were two, they were known as Red Spot and Gold Dot respectively.

By the time they moved into their third residence, Red Spot had passed on and Gold Dot continued to grow bigger and stronger. Once we arrived home from a ten day vacation, and found the automatic fish food feeder had broken, but Gold Dot was still going strong. This miraculous orange fish grew larger than any goldfish we had ever seen.

When my son was a freshman in high school, Gold Dot miscalculated his leap from the tank to the bowl during bath time, and ended up on the kitchen floor. I was wearing my slippery dishwashing gloves, and called my husband for help. He saw the fish wiggling on the floor and simply stated, "It's his time," and walked away.

My son came running into the room in tears, so I yanked off my gloves and swooshed him back into the water. Then he saw something red in the water and yelled, "He's bleeding! He's bleeding!" So I put him into the smaller bowl, applying pressure to his wound by using a napkin as a tourniquet.

Meanwhile, my husband added, "There's nothing you can do. He had a long life." My significant other's comments were especially comforting considering he's in the healthcare business. It really made me reconsider having a living will, "Indigestion, nonsense! It's her time."

Fortunately, Gold Dot survived physically: mentally we're not so sure. As my son tells the story, his dad was the hero who saved his favorite goldfish after his mother carelessly let him jump out of the tank.

Note: This is a re-post from my first A to Z in 2011. 

Frequent Flatulence

                                              

Frequent Flatulence

Never stood a chance.

Urgently erupting,

Loudly in your pants.

Friendly Fellows,

Meet up at the zoo.

Frolic at the ape house,

Takes the blame off you.

Frequent Flatulence,

Darn digestive tract.

Struggle with momentum,

Before the next attack.

 

Fancy Footwork,

To the nearest loo.

Carry extra undies,

One pair just won't do.

 

Friday Function,
At the old age home.
Through aromatic hallways,
Unsuspecting you may roam.

Frequent Flatulence,

Trying to look cool.

What's that floating near you?

Better leave the pool.

 

Eliminating Exclamation Points

                                                                     

 
                                                    
In a classic Seinfeld episode,  Elaine gets mad at her boyfriend when he shows her a phone message announcing the birth of her friend's baby. She can't believe that he didn't use an exclamation point at the end of the sentence. He replies, "Maybe I don't use exclamation points as haphazardly as you do." An argument ensues, and he storms off  adding, "Well you can put one at the end of this...I'm leaving!"

Later when Elaine tells Jerry about their fight he says, "I never heard of a relationship being affected by punctuation." Of course it doesn't help matters that Elaine is in the midst of editing her boyfriend's manuscript.

The exclamation points escalate when Elaine's boss Mr. Lippman reads aloud from her final draft: "It was a damp and chilly afternoon, so I decided to put on my sweatshirt (exclamation point)!  Get rid of the exclamation points. I hate exclamation points."

This episode was written twenty years ago, and most men still aren't comfortable around exclamation points. Sure some men will insert the occasional punctuation mark, but only during private conversations with women, or close male friends.

Society is slow to accept changes in punctuation. I know a woman who wouldn't go out with a man who sounded absolutely perfect for her on a dating site. His only crime was adding a smiley face at the end of his email.

Fortunately, the blogging community is an exception to this rule. It's safe for male bloggers to let their hair down while tossing out exclamation points, smiley faces, and lol's. Their willingness to express their feelings while supporting other bloggers shows strength and courage. Now that's certainly worthy of an exclamation point or two!!

Dallas Darwipple's Dynasty Dynamo Diesel Ranch

source

                                                                   

I dug up this commercial from a media writing class in college. I remember that I kept drawing a blank for this project. When I realized that it was due the next morning, I called my mom in a state of panic. It was a long distance call which was very expensive at the time, and my mom was in the middle of watching Dynasty on TV. Fortunately, she calmed me down, and helped me come up with the title which made the rest easy. My professor really liked it, and gave me an "A."  Sadly, others must have questioned his generous grading system, and I never saw him again; though my mom still remains my best and worst critic.

Dallas Darwipple's Dynasty Dynamo Diesel Ranch

 

 

Are you in the market for a new 1981 automobile? Why not come on down to Dallas Darwipple's Dynasty Dynamo Diesel Ranch? The car dealership that puts class before cash. Where else can you find a corral of colors, a stable of style, and luxury to liven your libido in a new or used car? At Dallas Darwipple's Dynamo Dynasty Diesel Ranch you can choose from a cattle stomping selection of automobiles all priced to fit even the lowest varmint's budget. So lasso your favorite partner, and hurry on down to Dallas Darwipple's Dynasty Dynamo Diesel Ranch this week, and cash in on your dynamic De Kalb dealer's discount deal. Dallas Darwipple's Dynasty Dynamo Diesel Ranch: The western ride without the saddle sore price.

 

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I'm delighted to announce the release of Solomon's Compass by Carol Kilgore. Take it away Carol.

 

 A missing belt -- her uncle's prized possession. The lure of buried treasure. And a sexy former SEAL who makes U.S. Coast Guard Commander Taylor Campbell crazy. What more could any woman want. Right?

 

Taylor is in Rock Harbor, Texas, on a quest to unearth her uncle’s treasure—a journey far outside the realm of her real life. There’s one glitch. Taylor's certain the buried treasure was all in Uncle Randy's dementia-riddled mind. Now he’s dead.

 

 Former SEAL Jake Solomon is in Rock Harbor under false pretenses to protect Taylor from the fate that befell her uncle and the other members of a tight circle of Coast Guardsmen called the Compass Points who served together on Point boats in Vietnam.

 

 

Jake is definitely not supposed to become involved with Taylor. That was his first mistake. Taylor is attracted to Jake as well, but she refuses to wait for him to locate the killer when she knows her plan will force her uncle’s murderer into action.

 

But the killer's actions are just what Jake is afraid of.

 

SOLOMON’S COMPASS is available at Amazon in paperback and Kindle

 

Carol Kilgore writes a blend of mystery, suspense, and romance she calls Crime Fiction with a Kiss. Always at least one crime; always a love story. You can find her here:  

 blog . website . facebook . twitter . goodreads . amazon

 

 

 

Constipation Corner

                                                                  


Host: Welcome to Constipation Corner. My guest today is Dr. Clyde Colon, I mean Collin. The author of Better Methods or BM's For Dummies. (holds up the book) Tell us about your book Clyde.

Guest:  It offers suggestions for battling constipation which involve drinking plenty of water, and eating a diet rich in fiber.

Host:  Wait a minute. That's not your picture on the back cover. Who are you?

Guest:  Well, Dr. Collin asked me to fill in for him, but I am in chapter 9 of the book.

Host:  (flips through the pages) You're in the chapter about unorthodox remedies?

Guest:  Yes, I have a very long twisted colon, so I have to work harder to release the toxins from my body, Diet isn't always enough, so I jump up and down, stand on my head and squawk like a bird.

Host:  And this helps you?

Guest:  Yes, but the problem is that I never know when it's going to kick in.

Host:  Does this affect your work?

Guest:  Actually, I'm lucky to be in a very conducive work environment.

Host:  What do you do?

Guest:  I'm a men's room attendant at the hotel across the street. That's how I met Two-ply, I mean Dr. Collin. As a matter of fact, he's in stall number three right now. I suggested a mini-cam, but he sent me instead.

Host:  So he suffers from constipation too?

Guest: Doesn't everybody?

Host:  So if he can't even help himself, why should we buy his book, and has this Dr. Collin even written anything else?

Guest:  Yes, but his lawyers said not to mention the other titles. He's doing much better now thanks to   Alex J. Cavanaugh,   and the Insecure Writer's Support Group. Whenever we're feeling all tense and bound for failure, Captain Cavanaugh is always there to help us flush out ideas without straining. He really keeps the group running on the first Wednesday of each month. Well, I gotta go.

Host:  Are you heading over to the IWSG meeting?

Guest:  That's later today, but I really gotta go now before something... (he races off)

Host:  Hmm...maybe it's worth a try. (Then she jumps up and down, stands on her head, and squawks like a bird while loud fireworks sound off behind her. She turns bright red and sprints off the stage.)
             
                                                                          

Beauty Shop Bullies

For over fifty years, my mom has gone to the beauty shop for a weekly fix.  Most visits include a wash, blow dry, and endless teasing. Unfortunately, as her designated driver much of that teasing is aimed at me.

Recently, I picked her up a few minutes late, and we drove in complete silence. Finally, I told her that a friend called who was falling asleep at the wheel during a long drive. She asked me to keep her company on the phone to prevent her from dozing off. Thus, I ended up leaving ten minutes later relieved to know that my friend made it home safely. I felt satisfied that I would be off the hook until my mom replied, "That's not a good enough reason."

After I helped my mom in with her walker, and replaced her coat with a smock the manicurist gave me the evil eye and said to my mom, "Why didn't you take the bus? You're never late when you come on the senior bus."

Then I noticed one of the "regulars" from across the room. Our friend "Vivian" is a very nice woman in her mid eighties who looks great, and is incredibly sharp. Vivian always has cute photos of her great grandchildren with her, so I thought I would share some pictures of my sons. I could hear the spaghetti western music playing, as we were getting ready to draw our cell phones. Vivian pulled first, and showed me beautiful clear photos on her iPhone, while we had to use a magnifying glass to see the images on my no-frills flip phone. Vivian laughed, and told me that I should get a better phone. She checked her emails, and continued to giggle, as she awaited her hair stylist.

Three hours later, when I was immersed in enough secondhand hairspray to kill a horse, my mom announced she was ready to leave.  While I was helping her with her coat, she saw that a button was loose, and asked her hair stylist if she had a needle and thread. Not only did she find one, but she proceeded to sew the button on my mom's coat, while she was wearing it. If I had the power to knight this saintly woman who is quite a dame I would.

After forty five minutes of saying goodbyes, Vivian came over to apologize for her remarks
about my phone, and all was forgiven. No nails were chipped, no hairs were blown, and Mom made it back home safe and sound: mission accomplished.

Attitude Adjustments At Assisted Living

 

 

 

                                                                         
Looks fade, weight shifts, aches and pains come and go, but most elderly people are able to get away with saying whatever is on their minds. This freedom is cast aside, as the training wheels are being snapped back onto their walkers. They're entering new territory now, and must learn how to survive in the jungle of assisted living.

It's like high school for senior citizens, only with a lot less jocks. The cheerleaders do most of their cheering on the benches, and as resident "mean girls" they still rule the school. They decide who has the honor of joining them at the cool table, and most of the drama takes place in the dining room.

When a new arrival moves in, the head cheerleader and her co-captains invite her to dinner for a thorough inspection. The cheerleaders aren't necessarily the prettiest, but they're the most powerful. They still take pride in their appearance, and only offer a second invitation to those who fit in without threatening the chain of command. The same theories hold true in sororities and prisons; though their walkers are too cumbersome for shower activities.

There's a whole new meaning to girls who are "easy." This applies to women without visual or hearing impairments. If you're able to eat off of your own plate, and don't constantly ask them to repeat themselves you're invited to the next round.

As for the small group of men, one gentleman had to loudly blow his nose at the dinner table after each course, and he was in high demand. Rumor has it that the women even took turns winning him at Canasta.

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Today begins the  Blogging From A to Z April Challenge,  and I would like to thank   Arlee Bird  for making this all possible. He created the challenge four years ago, and it continues to grow stronger. Be sure to visit the list of over 1600 creative participants  here.