Passover passed over. I cheated on my kosher for Passover diet but I did manage to convince my mother not to put Elijah’s wine in a paper cup. So I think I’m batting 500.
Overall it was something of a distressful weekend and not just because The Yankees lost their first showdown at Fenway. To think I might’ve actually gone to that game dressed head to toe in NY pinstripes (if you're betting no one ever dumps on cute girls, just recall the pig’s blood scene from “Carrie.”) I tried to cheer myself up by watching old cartoons including one I’ve never seen before. Apparently there was a short lived series called “The Roman Holidays” that was something of a Flinstone’s rip-off set in the ancient town of Holiday (yeah, of course Rome) Sure it was cute seeing all the animals in those sponge hats the Roman Cavalry wore. (It’s rumored that when Pontius Pilate told Christ he could beg for clemency, Jesus replied “Nice sponge hat!” Well you know how the rest of the story turned out. Hey, Happy Easter!) I did actually laugh aloud once when the landlord started banging on the door and shouting “Open up! This is Evictus!”
I could use a Roman Holiday. Everyone in my family is going on vacation to someplace warm. My favorite tropical paradise is St Thomas. I’ve been there a few times and also to the less touristy nearby island of St John. St John is like St Thomas without the DEET. I don’t know how anyone can use a bathroom there, why it’s called St. “John” is beyond me. And I’m assuming no one’s peeing in the ocean (it’s that translucent sparkling blue see-to-the-bottom even-the-floor-scum-is-pretty kind of water)….I go into a public restroom that ends up being straight out of the Temple of Doom. Swarms of insects. Mostly small little things but even so, just made me worry more about ending up a headline in “News of The Weird.” I remember when “Temple of Doom” came out and one movie reviewer took issue with the Kate Capshaw character, having perceived her as overly whiny. Let me tell you...Kate Capshaw was a trooper, nay, a warrior! I see one funny looking ant, I’m on the next flight home. That scene where Harrison Ford is urging her to stick her hand through that huge mess of bugs, he looks straight at her and says rather solemnly, “We are going to die!” I would’ve been like, “You see. You should’ve slept with me earlier in the film. Let that be a lesson to you.”
I did learn a lesson this weekend about the
need to turn the oven fan on. I can now confirm that the following methods
for turning off a smoke alarm are grossly ineffective
1-walking single file to the nearest exit
2-searching for a button while balancing yourself on a wheeled chair. (for my encore, I placed a preset alarm clock at the opposite end of a tightrope)
3-trying to yank the smoke alarm out of the wall (also while balancing yourself on a wheeled chair)
4- cursing. (which I do recommend. Although it is grossly ineffective, it remains psychologically therapeutic)
5- attempting to hit smoke alarm with succession of blunt objects and hitting only rock bottom in the process.
I will reward anyone who has an effective solution for me. You can come claim a day-old grilled cheese sandwich (I hope you like it well done)
Don’t fire up any birthday candles for my
life, the “fury slinging flame” going up against time, the “maniac scattering
*Alfred Lord Tennyson. The same guy who said “It is better to have loved and lost than to have forged her name on a prenup." Words to that effect.
Birthdays have me feeling subordinated by time and I am indeed allergic to dust. By the end of the week I’ll be fury slinging flames again (we can only hope my aim has improved since pitching at the fire alarm) I’m a classic manic depressive. I actually have confirmation on this. I get all the answers right on those “are you a manic depressive?” quizzes. I even get the bonus question. It’s a trick because they ask you how you’re feeling at the moment and there are two checkboxes “High as a kite” and “low as a midget in the Dead Sea” and to be correct, you have to check off both, against the test directions. Life is testing you. Don’t sit around reading this. Go out and set the world on fire. (whadaya mean “how?” didn’t they teach you that in boy scouts?)
Back to the clinton administration