Daze Gone By

camping 74

I was watching an episode of Benny Hill, tonight and I thought of my dad. He loved this show. He’d sit in his favorite chair and watch this show, while just cracking up. I didn’t think it was that funny back then, but now, watching, I was very amused. It was another reminder of my father and his own sense of humor.

I began to think back to my own youth and the days with my friends. We were straight out of, ‘That 70’s Show. Sometimes, I thought they must have modeled it after our lives. So similar. Even the state of Wisconsin, was chosen for the setting.

I had different people in my life for different seasons. And I was fond of all of them. But for this early 70’s, I was particularly fond.

It seemed I was just discovering so much. I had more challenges in my life,than most of my friends. But I learned to adapt. For example, I didn’t have a car until, I was 19. I rode my bike, everywhere. I loved my bike. My father bought it for me, and it was so light. I could pop the tires off the front and the back. And when I arrived at a party, I could easily fit it into someones car. i usually rode places, with my friend, Heidi. She lived a few miles away from me, and she didn’t have a car either.  My girlfriend, Grace, was joking, that I seemed to get around everywhere. She was amazed that I knew the streets so well, and rode to the lake front multiple times. This was a jaunt, and it sure beat the days, in high school, when we would hitch rides everywhere. Heidi and I hitched a ride by our house once, and these guys scared the crap out of us. It was a huge ghetto-cruiser. I think an Impala, or something. I just remembered, it was all pimped out. After getting in, the guy looked at his buddy, and flipped the locks down. I had a vivid recall of the big, silver globe, locks. When they went, “Click.” The saw us give each other a panicked look, and they started laughing. When we realized they were just trying to scare us. They chatted with us to our stop, and unlocked the doors.

When we were in high school, we would have groups of us hitching rides together. One day, my friend Carol, and I were with a few other girlfriends. We had two guys with us, and one, Frank Hyack, had beautiful long hair. He turned around with his back to the traffic and stuck his thumb out. Yep, in short order, a van stopped. We were laughing as we came running up, and the guy driving realized, he’d been duped.

Another night, I was with a group of girls, and a guy picked us up. He was so drunk. He had a case of beer in the back and we had to put our legs up on it. We were so terrified, as he was driving, and just told us to let us out, miles ahead of our destination. We talked about the nerve this guy had to stop and pick us up! I have to laugh, now, at how stupid we were, and thank God, for protecting us in our stupidity. But those days, seemed more innocent. It’s not to say that they actually were. Even now, on the rare occasion, that I see someone doing this, I’m shocked. I imagine, I sound like a typical mom. “I can’t believe a person would do that, in this day in age!” I say. “I mean times were different when I was young.” Come to think of it, I sound just like my mom, right now. She is always saying that.

We heard about so many terrible things happening to people. A friend of my brother’s, named Hillary, was picked up by some guys. She was thrown out of a car, and she was found. She later ended up in a nursing home. She had no recollection, of anyone or anything after that, tragic day. My brother was heartbroken as after his visit.  But those of us who did these things, felt immortal. This stuff only happened to other people. 

My best friend in high school, was a friend named, Carol. We would arrange to meet each other, and hitch rides together. We usually would go to a place at the Lakefront, called, The Site. All the hippies, hung out here. We would ask people to stop, so we could buy some Boones Farm, before arriving. It was the only wine, that teenagers, on a budget, could buy. The normal drinks, were either,  Boones Farm  Strawberry Hill, or Apple. If someone had beer, it more than likely was, Pabst Blue Ribbon. And we all thought, we had a secret code, because in the year book, people would answer, the favorite’s section with, PBR. Yea, like the teachers could never figure that one out.

One day, my friend Carol and I were being very cool. Our methods were probably no different from most teens, trying to buy wine or beer. We would ask the adults to make the purchase. The drinking age was 21, and that was way too long for us to wait. One night, we decided to go to East Side of Milwaukee. Another hippie hangout. Head shops everywhere you looked. Panhandlers, were common. And they were usually teens or young adults, trying to score pot or something else. I loved the area. Everyone wore Army jackets, and Navy Pea Coats. We were all about being so cool and anti-establishment. I would ‘freak my hair.’ Meaning, braid it very tightly, and let the braids out the hours later, to a full afro. And as anyone knows, with me, it’s all about the hair.

On this particular evening, Carol and me, stuck out our thumbs, and two guys pulled over. We got in and Carol asked, “Hey would you guys mind buying us some wine?” “Oh, no problem,” the driver said. We have a liquor store we go to all the time. We’ll just stop there.” A few minutes later, we were on our way. We gave them our money and they both went in. After getting into the car, they handed us the brown bag, with our two bottles of  Boones Farm. Hmm, “that was easy I thought.” “Where do you want to get out?” The driver asked. “Oh, just drop us off a few blocks from here,” Carol said.

So, we drove a couple blocks away and got out of the car. I had the bag in my hand and Carol was going to take her’s when she stooped down to tie her shoe. As she was getting up, a young-looking guy comes walking past. He says, “How you doing girls?” Just as I was about to say, “fine,”I see his hand reaching out toward us. He flashes a badge and says, “Police Officer. Let’s see what you have in the bag.” I felt the sickest feeling come over me. Wow, in less than a second,  I just lost my coolness.

He took us into the car as we were both crying and yelling about the unfairness of this. Of course we mentioned that their were, way more important things they could be doing, but making a bust such as this. I mean look at all the drug dealers and real criminals walking by.

As the officer explained what would happen, they said, “Because you were the one holding the bag, you will be the one going to court.” “What? I said. I finally understood, what “left holding the bag,” really meant.They drove both of us home. I thought my mother was going to explode, but she didn’t. All she said was, “I was a teenager once too.” “Wow! I didn’t see that one coming from my mom. And I had a hard time imagining her as a teenager. Living in a small town with her grandmother and my grandmother. I just couldn’t picture the connection to my experience. But whatever. I was happy enough, that she wasn’t angry.

That was a lot easier than I thought.” But no, that was the end of it. I had to go to court. I had to sit in a little hallway, as I heard the police officer tell me, that the guy that actually made the purchase, was not the driver of the car. He was also under 21. “Oh, that’s just great.” I thought. How did we assume, both of them were of age? Next he told me that they’d been watching this liquor store for a while. They’d heard they were selling to minors, and were just waiting to catch them. I also had to see the owner of the liquor store.  I got a warning and a strong reprimand from the judge about the dangers of hitch hiking.

I’m good friends with her. We still laugh about it every time we talk about it. At any rate, God was trying to teach me a valuable lesson. “Don’t get caught with the bag!” Ok, I know, that wasn’t the lesson, but hey, it was funny.

Hanging out behind our high school

Now, when I started going out with my boyfriend, John, we had a group of friends, that went to a public high school. I suppose, going to a Christian High School, made it uncool, to hang out with too many people from our school It was the public schools, which we always heard about. They were always behind in academics, but ahead in everything else. So we had parties with the people from Marshall. We were always hearing about their escapades,which made us seem tame.

We would all meet at Lannon Quarry and go night swimming. We would have huge parties. We once had a caravan of people driving out to a farm. We only had just arrived and we were laughing as we watched, all the cars, driving down through the cow pasture. We thought we were in a secluded area. But even so, police arrived shortly after tapping the half-barrel. We hadn’t counted on the owners of the little farmhouse, calling authorities. What a waste that was.

I liked the groups. The inner circle was, Scott, Dave O., Dave H, Jim H, Jim B, Claude, Dean and a few others. Then there were others, who would come to the parties. We would cross paths at other parties. But John and me, hung out with Scott and Dave O, most of the time. They all worked at ‘Go-Clean car wash, or Bagels and Bialeys. We would go to Go-Clean and hang out until the guys were off work. They would start the pumps at $1 or $2, for people filling up, so that they could use the extra $$$ for, John’s car, or someone else. Yes, in the old days, when attendants pumped your gas? You didn’t always get what you paid for. Especially when their were teenagers as attendants. As the cars were going through the car wash, they’d clean out any change they could find, as they were detailing the car. So, ‘Go-Clean,’ made sure your car was totally clean of anything. As long as these guys were on the job. The owner’s son, went to Marshall as well. And he’d show up every once in a while, to hang out with us, and peel out in the parking lot, with the new car, daddy gave him.

We would stop by Bagels and Bialeys, and wait for Jim, his girlfriend Robin, or their friend, Marcy. After they got out, we would take a ton of bagels, that were meant for the trash. We’d end up having bagel fights, from car to car. If you had an opened window, and happened to get smacked with one of those, you’d believe they could be used as a dangerous weapon. Especially when they were stale. I’m thinking of making this suggestion to the Israeli Defense League. You can  use them for food or ammunition.

We all went on a camping trip to Minoqua, Wisconsin. I was about 15. I rode in my boyfriends, Mustang. Bright orange, and breaking down, constantly. There were 5 of us in that car. My girlfriend, Susan went with her boyfriend, in his Volkswagen Beetle. They brought, Dwight. We were going to stay outside, of John’s family cabin. To this day, I don’t know why, we picked that place. We didn’t have a key, so it didn’t matter where we camped. We drove for hours, just to get there.  I just chalked it up to pure stupidity.

One night, we heard could hear one person complaining about the cold. It was Jim H. All he brought was a thin, little blanket with holes in it. It looked like a baby blanket.  Each person stuck their head through one of the holes, so we could get a picture. I wondered how he could go on a trip with it. Homeless people had better blankets.

Community blanket


I murdered the melon!

My friend, Susan and I, were left alone, while the guys went into town. We were screaming, as we heard something outside and held the flashlight to see a big racoon eating the melon I smashed earlier.

We just weren’t cut out for camping. On the way back, Sue and her boyfriend, had car trouble. Everyone was fighting.

Still, it was funny later to remember, our time in this little town. These became priceless memories. Especially years later, when my boyfriend had been killed in a car accident. I lost touch with most of our friends from this group, after that.

I did hear about our  friend, Robin. She  married Jim. Later, they split and she married his brother. She had a girl and named her, Carrie. I was so touched by this. I went to visit her and her little baby. We reminisced about our days, before responsibilities.

I do speak to Sue, on occasion. And I was happy to find out that Scott is now a man of great faith.  After our experience with the loss of John, we were all affected. We “put away childish things.” We lost many people and it was the Lord’s grace to protect us in our wildest times. But although, I am not unscathed by my foolish days, I am much stronger. And the friends I’ve had throughout my life, helped to weave the fabric of my being. I think we are all like, Jim’s blanket. We have our flaws. The holes in the protection.  But the friends, who are able to fill the gaps, keep us covered. And God’s grace, covers us all!

I had to laugh one day, when I met a girl at work. She told me her name was, Keri, and she was from Wisconsin. “I’m from Wisconsin!” I said. “What part are you from?” I asked. “Oh, you’ve never heard of it,” she said. “It’s way up north. A little town called, Minoqua.” I began to laugh, as I asked if they still had the little grocery store. I worried that she might say, her family owned it. I may have to pay for those eggs or watermelon. Of course, the statute of limitations, must have certainly worn off by now. But, thankfully, they didn’t own it.

Yes, as I look back,  I thank the Lord, for the good, and the bad. I thank Him, for my blanket of friends, that have kept me warm, when I was cold.

Eggs and beer! Breakfast of champions!

When I Grow Up, I Wanna Be….

A doctor, or perhaps in the cast of Wizard of Oz.

Well, yesterday was a visit to the doctor’s office. You remember him from last week. My mother, was convinced that He, was definitely not smart enough to be a doctor. What with all those silly questions, he was asking her. And now, his walk with her into the hallway, has turned into, “he was running down the hall with me!” Of course, if you’re walking at anything close to a normal pace, it is running, with her. Her whole world has slowed down. She keeps telling me, “things were better when I was a kid.” She’s intimidated by all the technology, and although, I influenced her to buy and Ipad, she’s overwhelmed with it.

I  thought if I show her how to turn it on and off, and some very simple things. I had the hopes that she would be ecstatic with this, little gadget. She had a huge desktop computer,which she enjoyed. The few things she did on it, were enough to keep her happy.

The other day, I finally saw her, playing around with all the pictures on the Ipad. Smiling, she proclaimed, “I love looking at these.” More proud that she had accomplished the miracle, of turning it on, sliding the unlock, and actually accessing the pictures. She now is practicing the ‘swiping,’ motion with her finger. I think this is what she enjoys the most.

I told her, “Mom, you know, you can watch movies on that, read books, and even make phone calls.” “Oh, that’s way too much!” She responds. I don’t want to do all that. I think it was better when we just had a regular phone. And I’d rather just read a book.” Forget about me explaining that it’s better, because she can “download,” all of this. Just the word, “download,” is scary to her. I mean, just think about it. To a woman my mom’s age, the word, down, and the word, ‘load,’ denotes something, extremely negative. Let alone, the combination!

I still remember when I started on my own desktop, years ago. The first time I received an error message on my computer, something to the effect, “That you’ve performed an illegal activity, and is going to be aborted, I thought the Feds, were standing at my door! I thought I’d inadvertently hacked into the governments, classified documents or something. So, the intimidation my mother feels, is probably compounded.

Today, we had another appointment for her physical. “Doctors, doctors!” She replies. “Why don’t you go?” I laugh, as I tell her” I do go. We have to maintain your vehicle.”

As we waited in the office this morning, she stared pointing out things on her body, once again. “Look at my fingers!” she says. “What’s wrong with your fingers, mom?” “What?! You can’t see it?” She asks, incredulously. She seems irritated, that I cannot easily notice, what isn’t there. I’m used to this, so I play the game. “What am I supposed to see?” I ask. “Well, they’re darker, on the tips!” Then she moves to the little blood vessels, which are beginning to show on the backs of her hands. “Look at this!” As she begins rubbing them. I said, “Mom, those are just broken blood vessels. You can see them because your skin is so fair.” Not satisfied with this, she begins to talk about her teeth again. “These hurt.” As she refers to dental implants, which have already been checked by the dentist. He found absolutely nothing wrong, and even commented on what a good job, the dentists, had done. She says, “these have to be checked every two years!” I tell her again, “Mom, we just had them checked about 4 months ago.” “Yes, but they need to be checked in Wisconsin!” Oh, here comes her not-so-hidden, agenda. She’s trying to engage me about her intentions of moving back to Wisconsin. I’m not biting.

The doors swings opened to this very small office, and in comes a little parade. First, it was a much older woman. She was in a motorized chair, and she was missing a leg. Just as I was beginning to feel so bad, a string of profanities, came from her mouth. She had a hearing aid in her ear, and short hair. I was positive it was a woman. And her health care aide, seemed to know, she was, as she called her Joanne. Then the other door swings open and almost hits her. “I’m sorry!” I heard the nurse say. And then almost immediately, she said, “Maybe you can move him, over a little.” Oops. “Some more profanity, from the woman. Yet, she seemed to almost have Tourette’s. So, I don’t really think she was angry about the confusion.

Now, another, motorized chair right behind her. The woman, very confidently, drove into the office. No one needed to help her, and my mother watched. I wondered if she understood, how much easier her life would be, if she would drive in one of those.

The last one in, was a woman, about, 4 feet tall. She had a walker, and she was very alert. She sat in a chair next to me, and and she also had a health care assistant, with her. I knew it wasn’t her family member,because of their conversation.

Now, my mother is waiting, and getting very impatient. Finally we were called. “I don’t like doctors,” she reminds me, once again.  Then she wants the nurse to know how impatient she was. “I was waiting for you to call!” She says. “Hmm, I said to the nurse, “That’s what I said to the last guy I was interested in.” With that look of female understanding, she starts cracking up. As she took her in to test her vitals, she told her, “I’m going to give you an EKG. This test will be for your heart. “Oh, I said, yesterday, we found out that she does have a brain, and today, we’re going to find out if she has a heart! I tell her, “the one thing she doesn’t have is courage, so I know she still has a chance for a part in the Wizard of Oz!”

The nurse asks her about allergies. “Yes, I have only one. I’m allergic to doctors!” She says. “Oh, I think we all have that allergy,” the nurse responds. Now, she finishes. Now the nurse said, “If the doctor decides to draw blood, you may go to an outside clinic or have it drawn here. They usually charge, $20.00. “Hey!” My mom says. “If they want my blood, then they should pay me!” The nurse began to laugh at this too. “You know, you’re right.” She says.  Oh, you don’t have to encourage my mom. “That’s what I’m saying. If my someone wants my blood bad enough, they should pay me. I mean, I need my blood!”

Now she’s ready to hop off the bench, and I say, “Hold it right there! The doctor has to see you.” What? I thought we were finished!” She says. The nurse looks at her, and says, “Oh,  your daughter is right. You still have to see the doctor.”

So, we wait some more. You know the game. But for some reason, my mom, thinks this whole thing is ridiculous. This gives her an opportunity to find more things wrong. Which I don’t understand, because she doesn’t want to see the doctor. At one point, when she grabs her knee, I said, “Listen, you saw people coming by you with no limbs, and making no sense whatsoever. Now, you’re going to tell me you have something wrong, cause your fingertips, are dark?” At this we both started laughing. She is now laughing uncontrollably, as she continued; Well, what is going on with this doctor? Why did I have to get up to sit and wait for him? He should get up earlier, if he wants me to come in!” “What?! I said. “You think that getting up at 10am is the crack of dawn! How are you going to get up earlier?” At this I told her, “The other day, you thought the doctor was dumb, and this one is lazy!” “Yea, she said. I could be a doctor!”

We were both laughing, as the doctor came in. And he did look young enough to be my own son. She liked him, though and this was the main thing. He was very personable, and winked when my mom, made her statements, about the move to Wisconsin. When he asked her, if anyone took care of her cooking and cleaning, she said, “Well, of course, my daughter cooks! But that’s until I get back to Wisconsin!’ Yes, he was young. But I’m guessing with all the patients, he sees, like her, he knows the game. He tells me that he will be speaking to her neurologist, after she explained that he took her on a run, down the hall. I saw that look of amusement in his face, as it was clear, my mother, couldn’t run anywhere.

He asked me, “Are you in the practice?” “Oh no,” I said. “Oh, you look familiar to me.” He said. I’m thinking of my mom’s conversation, before he entered the room. Perhaps I should be practicing. I thought. I sure would be saving time and money. Then I just told him, “I have one of those familiar faces.”But I was thinking, I’ve gotten around to more doctors in my own life. And between my mother, and myself, we are probably on posters somewhere, for potential referrals  or some other sales calls. “I joke with my doctor, that we should get a family discount. My family alone, is total job security, for any doctor.

After we left, I told my mother, it should now be obvious, that she could be a  doctor too. As she had already decided, one wasn’t too bright, and the other was sleeping too late, to get the job done. I had shared the joke with my mother, about the person who died and arrived in heaven to a host of being’s which he supposed was, God. Upon meeting a man in a white physician’s coat, St Peter replied, that “No this isn’t a doctor. That”s God. He only thinks he’s a doctor.” Oh, she agreed with that completely!

Help! I’m talking and I Can’t Shut Up!

Yesterday, I took my son and my brother to watch the Miami Dolphins train, at their training facility.My brother absolutely loves, football, although, to him, the Green Bay Packers, are the only one that really count.My brother, reminds all of us of, Dustin Hoffman’s character, Rain Man. Though, he is not autistic, he is mentally challenged, and when he’s stuck on something, it doesn’t change.

So it was extremely, surprising when, even he, despised, Brett Favre, when he left the Packers. Yes, his idol, Brett, became the enemy. After all, he was playing for the Vikings, in the end, and everyone knows, that you don’t go against the Packers! I wondered, “What in the world would he do, if Brett Favre, ends up as a Quarterback, for the Dolphins?” As I heard this rumor.

It has been years, and I still try to convince my brother, to be a fan of the Florida teams. And he loves to watch sports, no matter, who’s playing, but if they’re up against any Wisconsin team, it’s an automatic; Florida’s going down.Each year, he tells us “the Packers are going to the Superbowl.” And most of the time, he’s right. Although, on the rare occasion, that they’re not in it, he switches teams, back and forth, with whichever one is winning.To him, the opposite team is always called, “The Eagles.” No offense guys, but my brother, somehow has learned that your name is synonymous with, Losers. Don’t blame me, I even sent him on a trip to Philadelphia, to watch a game, and he is still, not going to let you off the hook. He was must have been conditioned, by a mob of Packer loving, Eagle haters. So someone else is to blame.

He has no shame in his game,and everyone laughs, as he goes right up to the TV screen, and does his animated, thumbs down! I enjoy watching, him, way more than the game. I know how much he loves being a part of something, which involves, a team.

So, I thought, “hey, these two are going to love watching the Dolphins train. When they see the camera’s on the news, and all the die-hard fans, who come to watch them, they’ll be inspired.

The training camp is right near me, so it’s really a fun thing to do. The last time we were here, was a few years ago, and it was pouring down rain. So we had to leave. I still managed to get some good pictures of my son and brother, with some of the players. But that’s about all we did.

Today, it was 89 degrees, and of course, all of us forgot the sunscreen. I usually have it in my car, but had just cleaned out my car. So this is not good. I decided to bring my little, pink umbrella to shield us from the sun.Of course, I knew, I would have to put it down, when they began to play.Well, as the sweat was already dripping down my back into my shorts, I said to my son, “I look like a wet my pants already!” I’m thinking, I’m already soaked, and they are only in practice.

A woman came over to tell me I would need to close the umbrella, until I told her I had intended to keep it open, only until the game began. She agreed, that this would be fine. She probably saw, that my brother’s bald head, unprotected, would be like a red beacon, which would be far more distracting than my pink umbrella. My face and that of my son, so fair, probably gave her compassion. “Oh, that’s fine, as long as you close it when they are ready to play.” Oh, those small kindnesses. I reprimanded my brother, once more, about his failure to remember his hat. And this would have been a perfect time to wear, his autographed, Packers cap. He almost gave it away at my last yard sale, and I was incredulous. “How could you put this in the pile?” I asked him. Here I find myself, being a total contradiction. I try to teach him to let go of things, and now I’m questioning why he would give that up? The autographs are very difficult to read anyway, but all I could surmise, is that Brett Favre’s, name is on it somewhere.

My son was asking for a ‘lemonade ice,’ before we even sat down. And at $4 a pop, this was going to be their first and their last one. I told him to “make it last.But I’m feeling sorry, that we are sitting here, because it is hotter than I imagined, and already, I’m thinking, there’s no way, we are staying for the whole game.

As the game is about to start, I close my umbrella. All of a sudden, I feel the presence of someone behind me, and I feel him bend forward. Right in between my son and me. Already so hot, I can feel his breath as he speaks, “Hey, is that Reggie Bush?” He asks me. “I really don’t know.” I tell him. Truth be told, the only one I know, is Jason Taylor.Every woman’s crush.

I have the team roster, but it’s really not accurate. As this guy, starts to talk, I realize one thing. “He is about to start a ramble session, like I’ve never heard in my whole life.He begins to tell us that he has been in the presence of such great people. Not just the Dolphins,but many Hollywood stars. He’s been in the movie, with Tom Cruise. On and on he goes. Everything he speaks, seems disjointed. In my mind, I’m trying to analyze, how he connected from one subject to another. Though it didn’t take long to see, he had a strong desire, to prove, he was important, by association. On and on he rambled. As my son stated, later, “There wasn’t even a period, in his sentence!” I was impressed, that my son had even noticed, this ‘run-on sentence,’ as grammatical error.

I have listened, as I’m trying to watch the players.”Oh, they’re just like real people,” he says. Which makes me laugh. I thought they were real people. But no matter, this guy does not need any encouragement from me.He continues, that he had encounter’s with one of the players, at a restaraunt, when he was dining with his family. “His wife was pregnant,” he said, and she was like this.” He makes a gesture,to show the girth of her stomach. As if I didn’t know what pregnant, really meant. All I could imagine, is this poor guy, with his family, having to be accosted, by Greg’s mouth. I wonder if the guy had a chance to eat.

He literally does not take a breath, and then he tells me that, his mother is an actress, and she’s always given him, one word, of advice. (Hmm, this ought to be good), She tells me, “Greg, if I give you any advice, it’s this,” LISTEN!” She says. Oh, my gosh! It’s obvious that he has not!  Poor mom, must be going insane, and I can only imagine, that Word, came in a shout!

Then he continues, “You have to know when to talk, and when to be quiet.” Is this a joke? I’m thinking. Am I on one of those shows, “What Would You Do?” Cause in my mind, I’m saying, “Shut Up!” But, I actually feel sorry for him. I’m starting to think, he’s mentally challenged, like my brother. Surely, no one can have a problem like this, unless they have something wrong. Or perhaps he’s on drugs. But no, he has a history. As he tells me about living with his mom and the way she speaks to him, I’ve gathered, with my investigative skills, that he is much closer to the Rain Man, character, than my brother is.

Then he continues talking about the movie he was just in, with Tom Cruise. Then the most amazing thing; He starts imitating, Rain Man. My son, finally turns around and starts cracking up. He starts to engage him, with the banter, since they both know all the parts of this movie. And they speak in unison, “Of course, Judge Wopner, at one clock!” I’m laughing at this. My brother loves the movie as well. I always wonder, if he is able to perceive himself, as this person. At any rate, Greg, should really think of auditioning for this part in community theater. He’d certainly be a natural!

I finally realized that I’m clearly not going to see any of this game, and we’re on so uncomfortably hot, it isn’t worth it. I declare, “It’s time to go.” My son’s relief was  clearly evident, and he almost seem to convey, “What took so long?” We stood up, and I say to Greg, who claims to know everyone, “Put in the good word for me, with Jason Taylor.” “Oh!” He says, “I will, but how do I get in touch with you?” Oh no you don’t, I’m thinking, even, if any of this was true, and at the risk, of losing, my connection to JayTay, I’m not giving up any of that info!

After returning to the car, my son, who usually is the one talking, said, finally, “What was wrong with that guy?  I couldn’t watch anything, cause jabber-jaws, was in my ear the whole time!” I know, I admitted, I think he’s mentally challenged.” “No, he’s not.” My son was not convinced, as he was comparing him to my brother. But I had to point out, not everyone has the same, mental disorder.

“I think it was because he was hitting on you!” He said, making it clear, that it was my fault, as usual. I just hope, my son got a clear picture, of this. And he learned a very important lesson; when your mother gives you advice, “Take It!”

Hold the pickles, Hold the Lettuce…

Oh and can I have a beer with that burger please?

Wake up with the King?

And if that isn’t creepy enough to have this guy in your bed or peering through your window…South Beach Burger King, is now going to include beer on its menu.

That’s right. What is going on here? I thought this was a family friendly gig. I mean I remember going to Burger King when I was a young girl. It was the first competitor with McDonald’s. It was comparable to the Team Jacob, Team Edward.

It still is, since the Advent of this creeped out looking King. I mean, I never liked Ronald too much, but the king just gives me the extreme willies!

When this dude first came on the scene, I told my daughter, this is totally messed up. It is creepy squared! The weirdo is looking into a persons window, which just begs a call to authorities, with an arrest warrant. Then a guy wakes up with the perv laying next to him and the message, “Wake Up To The King!” Hmm, that’s not a king I ever want to wake up to and I don’t care what kingdom he reigns over. He’s got way too much time on his hands to be prowling around neighborhoods and bringing breakfast to strangers.

Now as I watched the news the other night I see that a specific Burger King in South Beach is about to start serving beer. I can picture the advertisements with ‘The King’ holding a Whopper in one hand and a beer in the other. Besides that, if this was going to begin anywhere, it should have had its start in my hometown, Milwaukee. And hey, about 30 years too late, as far as I’m concerned. But now are they going to present a commercial with a ‘hungover,’ King waking up in a guys bed? Probably asking, “Where the he** am I? And what’s for breakfast?” Hey, why don’t you run over to Micky D’s and get me one of those breakfast burritos! Oh yea…and don’t forget to make a beer run while you’re at it! What did you say your name is again?”

I can see the people lining up on South Beach with their little trays of fast food fare. Their Whopper’s and fries. They get the tray and saunter over to the soda dispenser walk right past it to the beer tap. Probably a nice half barrel. Pull the tap and instructions neatly posted on the placard above, “Tilt paper cup slightly. Fill glass about 3/4 full and straighten to produce a nice head of foam. Well of course, being a Milwaukee native, we all know how to do this as children. It’s a requirement to prove your native status.Look at our baseball team. The Brewers…It’s all about beer.

Hey, now that I think of it…I may be able to apply for a job there. As a Bar-Ista!