Songs I Kind Of Like Right Now - Part 5

Last Straw

What I'm supposed to be doing tomorrow night:



What I'll probably be doing tomorrow night:

In Toto

"What is he carrying on about?" my mother asked as she sat down at our kitchen table for her regular Sunday morning visit.

"He's reading the editorial page," said the Lovely Bride. "You know how he gets."

My mother frowned at me "Why do you do that to yourself?"

"Otherwise I'd take it out on my family," I explained.

The Lovely Bride muttered, "It's not working."

"Don't you have wifely chores to do?" I asked her.

"Judging by your wife's expression, this would be a good time for you to shut up," my mother suggested.

"Good luck with that," said my youngest son.

The Lovely Bride gave me one final look and then turned to my mother and asked, "What's new with you?"

"I'm considering a safari," my mother said.

"I thought you were going to Sarasota," I said.

"I am."

"They don't have safaris in Sarasota," I said. "Besides, I thought you were attending Clown College."

My youngest smirked. "You're the one who went to Clown College, Dad."

"The last time I heard that I laughed so hard I fell off my dinosaur," I told him. He sneered at me in return.

"They're certainly noisy, aren't they?" my mother said.

"I've learned to ignore them," said the Lovely Bride.

"Anyway," said my mother, "I am not going to Clown College. I am going to an arts program."

"You're going on an art safari?" I asked. "I don't think you can hunt artists, even in Florida."

"I'm talking about a photographic safari."

"You're going to take photos of artists? That's kind of meta."

"Not in Florida," she said in exasperation. "In Africa."

"Mom, Sarasota isn't in Africa. Are you sure you didn't go to Clown College?"

"I am visiting Sarasota next week. Then, later, on a separate trip, I would go to Africa. Is that clear enough for you?"

"Why didn't you just say so?"

"He is particularly difficult today, isn't he?" my mother said to the Lovely Bride.

"Trust me, it'll get worse," the Lovely Bride said. "Football is on later and he likes to yell, 'Move the chains!' after every play."

My mother shook her had sadly. "I have no idea what you're talking about, but you have my sympathy."

"You did warn me," said the Lovely Bride.

"I tried," said my mother. "In any event, I enjoyed Africa so much the last time I was there, I'd like to go again. I'm afraid my memory is not what it used to be and I need to travel while I can."

"Your brain is fine," I said. "Surprising, given the heroin problem you had during my formative years."

"No, I can tell I'm not as sharp as I used to be," she said.

"For God's sake," I said. "You were just in Switzerland for twelve days by yourself. And it's not like you got on the plane by accident. Stop being such a worrywart."

"I'm just being realistic."

"I thought you made the doctor give you a test and that came back just fine."

"Doctors don't know everything."

"That's what I keep telling her," I said, pointing at the Lovely Bride. "Why doesn't anybody believe me?"

"Evaluating the wisdom of a bourbon and sausage diet doesn't exactly require a sophisticated medical background," said the Lovely Bride.

I shrugged. "My cardiologist is a quack."

"He went to Stanford," said my mother.

"So did Bernie Madoff," I replied.

My mother and the Lovely Bride looked at me for a moment and sighed in unison.

"Give me some," I said, holding my fist out to the youngest for a bump. He ignored me, but Lucy the dog gnawed on my hand a few times.

"Where do you want to go on safari?" the Lovely Bride asked.

"South Africa, I think," said my mother. "I've been to Tanzania, and although it was lovely, I don't feel a need to return there."

"Bring me some rhino horn," I said.

The Lovely Bride gave me a frozen smile. "Don't bother," she said.

"South Africa would be cool," said my youngest. "They have hippopotamuses."

"Yes," said my mother. "That's one of the things I'd like to see."

"What's the point?" I asked. "You couldn't tell anyone about it."

"Why?" asked my mother.


"HIPAA regulations," I said, gleefully.

 "Dear God," said the Lovely Bride.

"Move the chains!" I yelled.

Where In The World Is Snag - December 12, 2013

1. Not in the Arctic.
2. For a change.
3. More of a frozen wasteland of the soul.
4. But there's no minus sign on front of the temperature.
5. ?

Carry On, Soldier

One

 "Why'd you join the Army?" I asked Dan when we first met. We were in Texas and I was responsible for orienting him to the base.

"I didn't like the hats they wore in the Navy," he said.

"Really?"

"Why did you join?" he asked.

"Okay, your reason was better than mine."

Two

We were watching M*A*S*H.   Hot Lips' dog got killed. She was crying. So were we.

"Stupid dog," said Hot Lips.

"Stupid dog," Dan said.

"Stupid dog," I said.

Three

It was Thanksgiving. We were sharing an apartment off base.

"Do you really think we should give the turkey carcass to your puppy?" I asked.

"Sure," said Dan. "He'll love it."

Ten minutes later we were cleaning up dog vomit.

"Why'd you get a damn beagle anyway?" I asked. "And why'd you name him Sooner?"

"I know. I should have called him 'the Littlest Angel.'"

"Fucking kill me," I said.

Four

"Do you ever miss the Army?" I asked him. We were living in Seattle. I topped off his daiquiri glass from the pitcher we'd made out of the berries in our back yard.

"Never," he said.

"Not even color guard? Not even when we got to wear those cool, shiny helmets?"

"That sucked," Dan said.

"Remember when Top said we were going to get court-martialed for ragging on the President and we gave him a copy of the First Amendment?"

"That was hilarious," Dan said.

Five

"ALS?" I said. "You've got ALS? Like Lou Gehrig?"

"Yeah," said Dan. "Like Lou Gehrig."

"Shit," I said.

Six

"Thanks for coming to see me," said Dan. He still lived in Seattle, I lived in Minneapolis.

"Of course."

Seven

"What kind of nightmare is this?" Dan asked.

"It's winter in Minnesota. A fucking wonderland."

"This is worse than the Army."

"Nothing's that bad."

"Why did I come visit in February?" he asked.

"Plane tickets are cheaper?" I suggested.

"I wonder why," he said. "My damn hands don't work. Zip up my jacket."

"What's it worth to you?" I asked.

"What's it worth to keep me from telling your wife you were picking on a cripple?" he asked.

Eight

"What's that song?" I asked. My middle son and I were in Portland, staying with Dan, his wife, and their kids.

"Johnny Cash's version of 'The Mercy Seat,'" said Dan.

"It's haunting," I said.

"Try listening to it when you're dying," said Dan. He laughed.

Nine

"Hey, I'll see you in a few months. I've got business in Portland," I said.

"Perfect," he said. "Maybe the Packers will be playing. We can catch the game on TV."

"Yeah, whatever," I said.

"Nobody loves the Packers like I do," he said. "Except maybe your wife. Hey, did I tell you they sent me an autographed ball and a bunch of other stuff? Somebody wrote them and said I was a fan. They must have felt sorry for me."

"That was awfully decent of them," I said.

"I felt like I was stealing from the Make-A-Wish Foundation," said Dan.

Ten

"I'm sorry," said Dan's wife. "He's gone."

Goodbye, Dad

Bernard "Bud" Greensweig, age 84, passed away peacefully at his home in Royalton Township outside of Pine City, Tuesday, September 3, 2013.  Bud was born May 11, 1929 to Solomon (Sol) and Sadie Greensweig in Brooklyn, New York.  Bud received his undergraduate and law degrees from Northwestern University and his master's degree from the University of Chicago.  

Bud was a successful executive in Minneapolis and Atlanta and for a number of years ran his own law practice.  Bud was also an accomplished violinist who played with the Bloomington Symphony Orchestra, North Side Symphony Orchestra of Chicago and the Atlanta Pops Orchestra.  Throughout his life he enjoyed playing string quartets and making bad puns.  In January of 1984 he married his wife Jacquelyn.  They enjoyed their grandchildren, traveling, music, art, and their pets.

Bud was preceded in death by his parents Sol and Sadie, sisters Audrey and Ruth, and brother in-law Al Goldrich.  Bud is survived by his wife Jacquelyn of Pine City, son Dan (Colleen) Greensweig of Circle Pines, daughter Eve Meys (Tony) of St. Louis Park, son Thom (Alana) Petersen of Pine City, his grandchildren Josh, Ben, Noah, Ellie, Dylan and Waylon, and his nephew Barry (Jill) Goldrich and Noreen Goldrich of Chicago.

The family would like to thank the staff of St. Croix Hospice and Family Pathways for their assistance.  In celebration of Bud's life a reception will be held on Sunday, September 15, 2013 from 2pm - 5 pm at the family's home, 9218 Linden Lane, Pine City MN.

In lieu of flowers, memorial may be sent to Pine City Arts Council to help sponsor a community concert.  Pine City Arts Council, 65 2nd Street SE, Pine City, MN 55063.

Where In The World Is Snag - July 29, 2013

1. Rocky Mountain High
2. As in high
3. It's been better
4. It's been worse.
5. ?