A New Post Doesn't Write Itself

It occurred to me the other day that I hadn't written a 'new' blog post in a 'few days.’ I'm not sure how I let those 'few days’ elapse, but I figured I should get back on the horse, or keyboard in this instance, and start writing again. The only problem was that when I sat on the keyboard, all that came out was this: ru8ot goihjudfuhjugrehgughghujgh. And as you can see, that phrase is only funny if you are from the Anhui Province in China, which you are most likely not, especially if you read this blog. Though if you actually find yourself enjoying this blog, perhaps you are from that province and have no basic concept of reality or the English language.

And speaking of Provinces, I had several good ideas and topics to share with you in this post that have been accumulating during the last 'few days’ of my absence. The only problem is that I am heavily medicated, which has reduced my memory to the capacity of a chicken embryo's bladder, though I will try to recount as many of them as I can. Consider it sort of a ‘what I did during by mental break down.’

If I remember correctly, I'm pretty sure I was able to come up with a solution to our current economic chaos, but then I got the craving for soft serve ice cream and forgot to write it down. Although I think it involved purchasing the two dark blue properties in Monopoly and a pyramid scheme about either blocks of cheese or stem cells. I do know that part of my solution centered around Craig's List and our country's most famous landmarks – notably the birthplace of Fred Willard. But that's all a pipe dream now as I cannot for the life of me figure out how to connect the dots that I do remember. Oh yeah, there was also something about rebuilding our Y2K shelters (assuming you were actually foolish enough to take yours down in the first place) and the phrase 'Under the Mattress Savings and Loan,' if that helps.

Then there was my preoccupation with archaeological shows on cable. I really, really got into these things. It turns out that they are as abundant on TV during the day as are TV ads for ambulance chasers, career training schools and lawyer commercials where it looks like they were filmed in a library. It got to the point that I started digging holes in the back yard to satisfy my archaeological desire (and yes you are correct in saying to yourselves right now that you never thought you would see the words ‘archaeological’ and ‘desire’ in the same sentence). However, through my digging, I did discover that the previous owners of my home had buried their very large greyhound dog under our peach tree. Don’t worry, I’m kidding. We really don’t have a peach tree in our backyard. I mean seriously…

I also learned in my ‘down time’ that I am not as flexible and resilient as I used to be. This became neonally obvious to me when I decided to take Lucy and Ethel to a park to play a few days ago. I got the urge to use the swing set and then decided to show everyone at the park that I was Sky King of the Swings and jump out of the swing onto the ground. My dismount, or dis-swing, felt great. I even got enough air to pose for my wife’s camera before my descent began. (Editor’s note: this is where the upbeat tone of the story changes dramatically). At first it felt like I stuck the landing as if Bela Karoli himself had come to me in a dream and shared with me his divine gymnastic learnings and such.

The only problem is that the next thing I knew was that I was hitting the ground on all fours like a cat tossed from a 4-story window. I skidded for a few feet across the wood shavings laid down around the swing set. Only these weren’t those fancy recycled rubber tire shreds made to look like wood shavings, these were the real ‘grown from the ground up’ wood chips. It turns out that wood chips are so plentiful that they do grow on trees after all. Although I did slice my knees open, which is always a hoot when on blood thinners, it’s a darn good thing I didn’t break a leg or a wrist because my wife was laughing so hard that she would have been in no position to assist me. Nor would the 7 or so other children and 7 or so other adults and those snide no-good teenagers that actually pointed at me while they laughed. (For those of you addicted to Facebook as I am, there are two lovely before and after pictures at my Facebook page, courtesy of my loving wife).

As frightening as that story may sound, I have an even scarier one – you know, with Halloween and The Great Pumpkin coming and all. I almost consented to buying a mini-van over the weekend (sorry Ed and Beth, I know you have one, but you are still family to me). I swore even before we had children that if my wife and I ended up as Jon and Kate plus 50 that I would never purchase a mini-van. It seduced me though with all the room and sliding doors, its 3 fancy rows that beckoned me to rest my rear end upon them and the most sexy part – the little arm rests that you could put down to turn the seats in the front two rows into captain’s chairs. Double darn that feeling of being able to feel like Captain James T. Kirk while piloting your own vehicle. Fortunately, it was at a stop light while driving the devil’s vehicular spawn when I looked over to the SUV beside us and was rocked back into reality. My hand still trembles at the thought of having almost become a mini-van man, though the doctor says it’s the meds causing the trembling. That fool! (Remember to say that phrase while dramatically slamming your fists onto the desk to get the full effect). Obviously she is of the mini-vanners and can no longer be trusted.

Fortunately my clouded state of brainular activity has experience a slight upswing. Yesterday I triumphantly purchased my first carton of Eggnog of the season – yes, the season that has not even begun yet. Although my math skills aren’t up to par, I believe yesterday’s purchase puts my streak of being able to enjoy eggnog just before and during Halloween night somewhere between 8-10 years now. I really think I can become the Cal Ripken Iron Man of early season eggnog consumption. Don’t believe me; just check my late October blog postings for the last two years. I am actually enjoying the creamy, sweet beverage now. And as an added bonus, I can really feel it’s artery clogging properties taking affect as I attempt to write this.

So thanks to everyone who emailed me during the last few days, by which I can now acknowledge was approximately 8 or so weeks. It meant a lot and even made me want to write again, even though I stole this post word for word from an article in this month’s Reader’s Digest. But let’s just keep that between us, ok?