Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Bill Reeves: Errant Knight

So I was at this community hoe down or jamboree or whatever in John - my Lord and CEO's -neighborhood. I've never heard Irish pop played by a country band before - or heard it played by senior citizens although I guess that is the fate of all Irish pop: reinterpreted Grand 'ol Opry style by Senior Strummers in places like Nevada. But that's neither here nor there, well it's here but not about here, and it's about there. Ireland, that is. But I digress.

OK Reboot: So I was at this hoe down and one of the 'party' I was with plied me with a snootful of Moscato. Now I don't know if you've ever Moscatoed - I hadn't - but Moscato is apparently the Skittles of the wine family. So with my mouth appropriately puckered I headed for the fountain mewling wwwrrrr, wwwrrrr (serious puckerage) only to be confronted (in a manner that completely blocked the sidewalk) by a moppet of seven or so who pointing to the tree above lisped "I lost my necklace" - which wasn't completely true. What she HAD done was chuck it into the tree. And not into some little sapling but into a big tree - about ten feet up. And this is where my whole damned chivalry thing falls apart because while I want to aid damsels in distress, I really prefer to do it when convenient to me. Yet here I was forced to de-damsel this moppet while seriously over puckered.

So long story made short: I ended up IN the tree, swinging back and forth on the branch like a demented macaque while two older gentlemen whacked at the offending jewelry. One of them - who probably should have been in a walker - used a vigorous back and forth slashing motion with his cane that quite impressed me until he started hitting me on the wrist and head. The other gent, who was taller and more strategic, took advantage of the additional downswing that my attempts to avoid the wayward whacks caused and expertly snagged the necklace with his umbrella to the cheers of absolutely no one. Because the junior Jezebel ungratefully pocketed her 75 cent bauble and strolled off without as much as a thank you - after all, her mother DID tell her not to talk to strangers.

So still puckered but now quite pleased with myself (lookit, I'm a hero!), I finished my jaunt to the water fountain. As I returned, I spied our diminutive Delilah: tossing the same damned necklace into the same damned tree. Well you can probably guess what I did next: I drew myself up to my full height and...forcefully strode the other way. There was no way in hell I was going to let that mite sized Mata Hari cry at me again.

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

Let's adopt the Ten Commandments!

So one objection to my (brilliant IMHO) recommendation that we ban anyone that wants to ban anything is that would mean couldn't ban murder or Baseball Cardinal hatred which clearly would be wrong.  So I have another solution.  Lets just use the Ten Commandments, also known as the Decalogue or the Nine No Nos plus One.  Now before you go all "boy he's really a party pooper, let's get him!" I must point out the (really) Big Ten doesn't ban parties or drinking or even making an absolute drunken ass of yourself (yay!)  Neither does it ban gay marriage or imbibing intoxicating substances not approved by government scolds (ya a a a aaaay!).  In fact Marijuana would be legal everywhere - which is good because if it was pronounced the way my West Texas Grandad used to say it: "Mary-Jew-Wannah"  it could be considered a sacrament in two or even three religions (I'm not sure about the ancient faith of Consumerism - experts disagree on whether wannah or chargeit is the principal mantra of the Consumerati).

Now some of you will no doubt argue that the Tennoes require that people Honor thy God which is true and under my new regime you would have to.  But in these narcissistic times many of you consider yourselves Gods so this requirement could be handled by simply looking at oneself in the mirror and telling yourself "My God you're a Great God" or something to that effect.  For those of you who don't believe in God and consider worshiping God blasphemous you can worship anything you want - a rock, your toothpaste tube, your own self righteousness - any old thing.

And of course there is the problem with Honor thy Mother and Father.  I know, I know many of you have Mommy Issues or Daddy Derangement and this one is pretty damned tough for you.  But after consulting with a crack team of Pharisees I've come up with a workaround.  Technically all you need to do to honor your parents is to acknowledge that yes, indeed, there were the source of your DNA and that anything wrong with you is in fact their fault.  This simply gives them credit where credit is due and that's all the honor anyone can expect.

The Sabbath is also a problem, what with the NFL, and golf. I solve this problem by noting that Muslims say it's Friday, Jews say it's Saturday and Christians say it's Sunday. So I say it's sleepday.  Nobody really knows when the Sabbath is so let's honor the Sabbath in the most solemn way possible: by sleeping through it.  And having the Sabbath be whenever we're asleep has the additional benefit of making waking Dad up a sin and a crime which would have done wonders for my outlook back when I had midgets lemme tellya.

And the rest of the stuff is pretty straightforward.  Of course you shouldn't be messing around with someone else's wife, cow, boyfriend or iPhone.  And if you are, stop it right now!

Some of you will say well Jeez what about zoning disputes and racism and the infield fly rule? Will everything else just be up for grabs?  This is where the Two Commandments that Jesus condensed everything into come in to play: the first is just a reprise of the "Honor Thy God" gig with some "and try really, really hard" (really?, yes REALLY!) which is handled as above. Simply get your mirror and remember: when lovin' on yourself really put your back into it.  And the second commandment "Love thy Neighbor as Thyself" can handle most of the other stuff through the mechanism of "mandatory backsies"  if someone zones you, you zone them, someone hates on you, you hate on them, someone says you look like a dyspeptic poodle you are required to call them a superannuated Chihuahua.  My crack team of Pharisees and I are in the process of coming up with a comprehensive list of the mandatory backsies required under our new regime.  None of this 'turning the other cheek' crap will be allowed.  It is hoped that by forcing the baddies to confront the badness of their behavior immediately through symmetrical back at you badness that the baddies will feel bad about their badness and will de-bad.  There is of course a small chance that the bad acts will engender badder acts and badder acts until the entire world is enveloped in a thermo nuclear catastrophe of epic proportions. But the Old Testament is nothing if not apocalyptic so that will be OK too.

Which leaves the unforgivable sin: hating - or even rooting against - the baseball Cardinals. This, along with the infield fly rule are the exceptions that prove the rule.  They are part of a special covenant between Yahweh and the Cardinals to be known from this day henceforth as "God's Team, PBUT (peace be upon them)".  And I'm afraid this is a strict ban with no backsies or Pharisaical outsies either. Sorry, this is my system.  If you don't like it come up with you're own damned Moral Framework for Civilization.