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Tuesday Tidbits


Welcome to Tuesday Tidbits.  




1.  Not everything out of Ferguson is bad. In what will surely win a Pulitzer Prize, this picture, now commonly seen all over the web and newspapers, shows the real face of who we are in America and not the "Burn down this bitch" comment from Michael Brown's pants-sagging father.   Twelve year-old Devonte Hall was holding a sign saying Free Hugs and the cop asked for one.  Nice nice picture. 


2.  In what was a wild Black Friday weekend,  I have never been one to brave the unruly crowds; I prefer to sit in judgmental horror at their brazen insanity.   However, on Friday I was somewhat held captive.  Mackenzie, bless her little retail-days heart, said she had to go to a few places and while I normally wouldn't, it was my only way to see Norah.  Poor stupid Mike.  I met them at 10:00 AM and arrived back at Bedlam at 9:48 PM.    






It was a bloodbath. The word horrible doesn't do it justice.  But also strangely addictive.  The thought that I could finish all of mine drove me further into the depths of the 5 circles of Hell: The Mall (Macy's, Dillard's, Spencer's, Old Navy, Brookstone, The Food Court, at al), Kohl's, Target (two different ones), and Publix.  

 And then I went again with them the next day (Saturday) for another round of shopping.  Norah was frazzled and I was shouldering on, but heavens, it was a grueling weekend.  But I finished.  And I was kind of proud of myself.  I earned stripes or something, and I am proud to say I survived.  But I must say that this hardened near recluse, old guy, hasn't changed his opinion of the masses:  the more I'm around people the more I want a dog.  

 The mannequin above barely survived Black Friday.  I spotted this at Beall's on Saturday.  And that next picture is me in line at Old Navy, until I decided to end my torture and walk out, without the hoody.  Cyber Monday awaits.  

 One side-note:  While I was tending to Norah and the others were doing their thing, I sat next to an old gentleman in one of the courts at the Mall.  He started talking about Norah and then told me a story about when he was a kid and his grandfather's place during the War.  He had two brothers and gramps told the boys that if they got in trouble they would have to go down to the basement for punishment.  Since it was dark and smelly and nasty none of them wanted to do that, but boys being boys  it eventually happened.  The older brother did something so gramps took the kid down to the basement.  Pretty soon the two boys upstairs began to hear a pounding and their brother yelling and screaming.  In time, gramps and the brother returned but all he would say was, "Don't get sent down there."  

 It didn't take long before he did something that didn't suit Gramps so he was sent to the dungeon-like basement.  Gramps walked him down grabbed a ping-pong paddle and told the kid to scream bloody murder as he pounded the paddle on the table.  Great story.  Nice old guy.  

3.  While at Panerra Bread for lunch I saw these two guys conversing at a table come by.  I'm not usually given to eavesdropping or invading spaces, but I was impressed by something.  Florida's official state of dress is shorts, T-shirt and flip-flops.  These folks take casual tot he extreme.  And why not, it is a hot state and everything is easy-breezy?  I was impressed by these guys wearing sport coats and looking out-of-place yet pretty classy doing it.  Father Knows Best apparel wouldn't last long down here, but maybe once in a while it might be nice to show these rubes a little class.  I'm thinking about perhaps a sport coat everyone in a while.  What do you think?  Uh.  Guess not.  Hauling Norah around and overheating doesn't make sense either.  I guess I need to find a CEO type job to make this fashion statement.      






4.    Drew and Norah shopped for a real tree this year.  Christmas tree shopping ideally must be done in the cold; fingers freezing while you get it home and saw an inch or two from the base.  Nose dripping snot down your mustache and frozen in a clump over your upper lip.  Then as you wipe your nose on your coat jacket and strip of slime all the way along your sleeve.  

Then hauling it up the steps through a too narrow door frame, through the kitchen and into the living room.  From there you discover a branch that keeps the tree from sitting securely in a base you remember were going to throw away after last year because a leg is bent.  Needles from a so-called fresh tree spilling all over the floor.  Yes, there is a time-honored process to Christmas, and these guys down here just don't get it. 



Imagine hunting the perfect tree in a tent with a fan, wearing flip-flop, T-shirt and shorts.  There is just something unnatural about that. 

5.  And finally today.  Birds.  





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