Now, before you don sackcloth and ashes, keep in mind there are other whistle-pigs. Dunkirk Dave (NY), Susquehanna Sherman (PA), General Beauregard Lee (GA), and Shubencadie Sam (Nova Scotia)–just to name a few–all announced an early spring.
Personally, I think Punxsutawney Phil just likes to play with us.
So six more weeks of winter, be damned. Let’s raise a glass in celebration–to absurd little holidays, woodchucks, and the coming of spring . . .
The first day of Kindergarten was traumatic–not so much the going, as the coming home. My baby brother, diagnosed with spinal meningitis, was up at the hospital; my parents were by his side. So family and friends stepped in to care for me. The plan for that first day was for me to get off the bus at the long dirt drive that led to “Micken” Hawkins–Mrs. Hawkins being the elderly lady who lived down the street.
It’s all a blur from there, literally. I simply recall looking out the smudged window of that bus to see my house blur by. With that, I did the only thing for a shy, 5 year-old to do . . . I slid down in the seat, wishing for a cloak of invisibility.
It didn’t work.
The bus driver finished dropping off the elementary kids and promptly drove to his next stop–High School. Waiting for the release bell, he walked the aisle, looking for things left behind. Boy, did he find something–mainly, a small, strawberry blond. He had no choice but to take me along for the ride, dropping me off at my school, last.
Eyes wide, I reported the whole experience to my mom–they were all drunk!
What can I say? I didn’t hang much with teenagers. As a matter of fact, the only high school students I “knew” were those from Welcome Back, Kotter.
Naturally, with the death of Robert Hegyes, I’ve thought a lot of that show in the last few days. As with most things from that decade I remember only bits and pieces–Horshack’s whiny voice (and goofy laugh), Epstein’s notes, Barbarino’s dance, Washington’s swagger. Being a child, I had no idea the controversy surrounding the show; I didn’t know there was an uproar over delinquent kids, in a racially integrated classroom.
What I did know, however, was you could always count on the sweathogs for shenanigans–and they always made me laugh. Even if the subject matter wasn’t necessarily funny. How could we forget Gimme some drugs, gimme some drugs, gimme some drugs? Sure, it made us laugh at a very serious topic; but in doing so, it highlighted the ridiculousness of it all. And show that can pull that off, can’t be all bad . . . no matter how questionable the fashion.
So for those of you who remember, a trip down memory lane. For those of you who haven’t a clue what I’m talking about, this was the type of TV show we watched in the 70′s. It may explain a lot . . .
I’m assuming you’ve heard the hoopla surrounding Uggie, the thespian pup? A true rags to riches story, he began as a pups no one wanted; now he shines on the red carpet. There’s even a Facebook campaign to give him the chance to be nominated for an Oscar. I’ve yet to see his performance in The Artist, but I loved his work in Water for Elephants.
It’s about time animals got some credit for their work in film. What about the dog in Sherlock Holmes? Or the cat in Breakfast at Tiffany’s? If it weren’t for that particular feline {and maybe the fashion} that would have been two hours of my life I’ll never get back!
Surely, you’ve got a favorite. For that alone they should get something. If not an Oscar, at least a name in the credits . . . and maybe a few extra pets.
You know, some things seem like a good idea at the time. Things like opening that gift bottle of wine that lay chilling in the fridge–just a little something to make a party of Christmas cards. So fun!
Until you awake the next morning to read the response to your address confirmation, made midway through the Christmas card hullabaloo:
“Stuart . . . not Stewart . . . but other than that, yes, it’s correct!”
Even with the address right in front of me, I couldn’t get it straight. Imagine all that could have gone awry when I actually attempted to string sentences together.
Oh well, only nine days ’til Christmas, my friends–Cheers!
It would behoove you to maintain a regular exercise routine throughout the year–maybe throw in a yoga pose or two, for good measure. Sure, if you don’t, you’ll have a ready made resolution come the new year; but you’ll also have a hard time explaining how wrapping gifts could make your muscles so sore, or cause you to hobble about like an old man. Somehow the fact that you were sitting Indian style for two hours, popping up every now and again for paper, ribbons, or tags, just doesn’t seem to cut it.
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