Matt, while home for his winter break, sometimes drove my truck which was invariably tuned to old time radio shows.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Dad, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll be driving along for five minutes and then realize I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve been listening to complete gibberish.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d <\/p>\n
I do like that word gibberish and it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s relative gibbering. One of those shows described a mad scientist (are they any other kind?) who created hybrid human monkeys he called his \u00e2\u20ac\u0153boys.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d The telltale noise emanating from the threatening forest? Gibbering.<\/p>\n
***********<\/p>\n
Jeff and I had knocked off maybe ten of those home improvement projects when I chastised him for sitting down. It was the end of the day, and I wanted to complete one more task. He looked at me and said, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Listen, mothafucka, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m on vacation.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d For that one you might have had to have been there, as well as his own rejoinder when his days off had come to an end. \u00e2\u20ac\u009dWork\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s gonna feel like a vacation.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
***********<\/p>\n
It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s about eleven at night and Karen\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s caught me cleaning out her refrigerator. Yeah, I guess I was manic. She asked, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Are you going nuts?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d She looked so concerned that I had to take the question seriously. I mean, I might have been, but I didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t think so. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153If I were, you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d know by my stare<\/a>.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d *********** <\/p>\n Good friends of my parents decided at age fifty or so to adopt a child. Given their age and possibly their previous lives (he a priest, she a nun), they knew they\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d face skeptical agency heads. Nevertheless, they trundled down to their local Catholic Charities where the woman in charge placed a photograph in front of them of the available infants. They oohed and aahed at each face, but one baby really caught the prospective father\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s eye. He pointed to the smallest one and said, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153There\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s something about that baby\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s eyes I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t quite understand.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d To which the church lady said, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not a baby, that\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s a Cabbage Patch doll.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d <\/p>\n ************<\/p>\n I did it again. Twice.<\/p>\n I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m next to the dairy case at Idylwilde and in my cart are three carefully selected items. I maneuver around a woman stuck in front of butter and milk, stop, and then drift off while pondering what yogurt to select. Finally, I snap back and scoot away with the cart. Then I hear, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s mine.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Then, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153THAT\u00e2\u20ac\u2122S MINE.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Oh,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I reply. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m sorry, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m always grabbing the wrong cart.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d She barely smiled. <\/p>\n I patrol the rest of Idlywilde wandering like Jeffie in Family Circus until I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve gathered all I need for my next two dinners. I pull up to the check-out counter and I reach into my cart, and realize I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t recognize a thing. Where\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s my olive tampanade, my plum tomatoes, and my overly expensive peanut butter brownies. And why is there a gallon of cider where my low fat milk should be? <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Matt, while home for his winter break, sometimes drove my truck which was invariably tuned to old time radio shows. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Dad, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll be driving along for five minutes and then realize I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve been listening to complete gibberish.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I do like … Continue reading
\nTo which this woman with far more on her mind than I, replied, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153If you are, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll beat the shit out of you.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
![stare<\/a>.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d\nTo which this woman with far more on her mind than I, replied, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153If you are, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll beat the shit out of you.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n*********** <\/p>\nGood friends of my parents decided at age fifty or so to adopt a child. Given their age and possibly their previous lives (he a priest, she a nun), they knew they\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d face skeptical agency heads. Nevertheless, they trundled down to their local Catholic Charities where the woman in charge placed a photograph in front of them of the available infants. They oohed and aahed at each face, but one baby really caught the prospective father\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s eye. He pointed to the smallest one and said, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153There\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s something about that baby\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s eyes I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t quite understand.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d To which the church lady said, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not a baby, that\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s a Cabbage Patch doll.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d <\/p>\n************<\/p>\nI did it again. Twice.<\/p>\nI\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m next to the dairy case at Idylwilde and in my cart are three carefully selected items. I maneuver around a woman stuck in front of butter and milk, stop, and then drift off while pondering what yogurt to select. Finally, I snap back and scoot away with the cart. Then I hear, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s mine.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Then, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153THAT\u00e2\u20ac\u2122S MINE.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Oh,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I reply. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m sorry, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m always grabbing the wrong cart.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d She barely smiled. <\/p>\nI patrol the rest of Idlywilde wandering like Jeffie in Family Circus until I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve gathered all I need for my next two dinners. I pull up to the check-out counter and I reach into my cart, and realize I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t recognize a thing. Where\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s my olive tampanade, my plum tomatoes, and my overly expensive peanut butter brownies. And why is there a gallon of cider where my low fat milk should be? <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Matt, while home for his winter break, sometimes drove my truck which was invariably tuned to old time radio shows. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Dad, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll be driving along for five minutes and then realize I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve been listening to complete gibberish.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I do like … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[12],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1745","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-other"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mainecourse.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1745","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mainecourse.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mainecourse.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mainecourse.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mainecourse.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1745"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/mainecourse.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1745\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mainecourse.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1745"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mainecourse.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1745"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mainecourse.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1745"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}](\"http:\/\/www.vanishingreality.com\/common\/mike\/misc\/peter_brian_mike.jpg\"){kind=link}