Thank Your Lucky Stars
Hello World,
Happy April, and no fooling this time. I think we all learned our lesson about poking fun at Comrade Mischka and the Kremlin's infernal weather machine, when two weeks after the first day of Spring, we found ourselves looking like the inside of a snow globe, with swirling white flakes going every which way. Although here we only had flurries, other areas got some significant accumulations, and I don't mind saying, plenty unhappy about it at this late date. And I will also have you know that everyone can just stop looking at me like that, because for once, I had nothing to do with it. I did not take the flannel sheets off the bed, put away my winter coats and fuzzy boots, or even put the snow shovel back in the garage. In fact, I still have the bird bath heaters plugged in, even though it was 70 degrees last week, so please don't think that I'm taking the fall for anything this time around. However, just to be on the safe side, I'd like to take this opportunity to say, "I love Mother Russia!" And now I'm going to make like Vladimir, and I'm outta here.
Of course, last week was Palm Sunday, which everyone knows is the highlight of the church year, at least as far as the cats are concerned anyway. I don't dare come home from church without new palms, because it wouldn't be worth my life to show up at the door empty-handed and in the face of this collective feline multitude. Don't ask me how they know it's Palm Sunday, because they don't go to church, and we don't let them watch the news, because it only upsets them. I'd rather not know how they find this out, because I'd be afraid to discover that there's an international kitty short-wave radio frequency that they all use to keep in touch with the diabolical genius in charge of the species, which is the only explanation I have for how they always seem to be one step ahead of us poor befuddled humans in their thrall. In any case, you can't pass off old palms from last year on them, because they know the difference and don't you doubt it. It must be the smell, or the palm oil in the fronds or something, because they really go for them when they're brand new. In fact, we left a few in the living room, and even the invisible cats have been playing with them (!!!) including the Invisible Matriarch of the Invisible Clan, Miss "Don't-call-me-Muffy" Invisible Muffin her very own invisible self. And here all along, I thought she was Jewish.
For anyone who was wondering if things could get any more ridiculous at the New York State Office of Parks, Recreation & Historic Preservation, and well may you wonder, we have the following message from one of our alert readers (thanks, Rich!) with some helpful suggestions on their behalf:
======================================
Dear Friend at Wildwood campsite C-35
As per our previous directive, it is no longer advised to bring your own firewood to camp. In our previous correspondence, we failed to notify you of the local resources available. Please take notice.
1 - Locally purchased firewood, (available by the full cord only @ $235 per cord), This eco- environmentally correct dead wood, is gleaned from state land in Westchester County.
2 - For smaller quantities, premium hardwood toothpicks are recommended. Available at the local 7-11. Please call ahead to reserve 200 - 300 boxes. Thank you, come again.
3 - Any dead wood found on park property. (State park permit necessary, as well as local landscaping license. Also provide certificate from NYS Heath Department on completion of pesticide handling course. ** It is also recommended that you have a 2 yr degree in Entomology, from any state accredited school - specializing in the recognition of non indigenous insects.)
Special note: It is NOT advised to use any camp tables or benches as firewood (DESPITE THEIR APPARENT CONDITION). This would result in possible expulsion from the park, and we would not want to burn our bridges behind us, would we.
Note: Burning any part of any bridge is also prohibited.
Have a happy camping season
NYS Dept of Recreation & Parks Department
======================================
Well, I certainly do hope that this manages to clarify any misunderstandings there may have been among our vacationing public out there. Of course, we all know how I always worry when things like this start to make perfect sense to me!
Speaking of things that make no sense, last week Bill and I were coming back from being out, and we drove past a Citgo station where the sign said it was selling regular gas for $2.65/gal, which in this area right now would be 30 cents cheaper per gallon than anyone else. It seemed too good to be true, because as I pointed out to Bill, the line for that would be around the block and it would look like some old news footage from 1975. But on Sunday after church, I drove over there to check it out, because I wasn't going to pass up a bargain like that, but it turned out that they had gone out of business (and you could tell when, because it was 30 cents ago) and just left the signs up with the gas prices, which in retrospect, seem like nothing more than a cruel joke. I bit back my disappointment and gassed up at another neighborhood purveyor of quality petroleum products for $2.93/gal, which only set me back $17 thanks to the tiny gas tank on the Escort. (Unlike the Gremlin, which has a massive 26-gallon tank, and imagine what an investment that would be to fill with gasoline at these outrageous prices!) In any event, now that I have caved in and put gas in the car, I expect that the prices should come inching slowly back down for the rest of humanity, although I noticed that it had climbed to $2.99/gal at the Sunoco yesterday, which is the opposite of what I would like to see happening. I've done everything I can, so I certainly hope it helps. No please don't thank me, after all, virtue is its own reward.
Last month, I took the Monday after my birthday off from work, so I could enjoy a nice long weekend for my birthday, and that was a nice break in the routine and a change of pace. Then last Saturday, we were back at Mom's, and a lovely day it was too, but even with a couple of extra weeks thrown in there, the Birthday Elves still seemed not to have completed all of their necessary preparations, and so the birthday caravan just continues to roll along, and just like March Madness spilling over into April nowadays, my "birthday month" shows no sign of quitting, all this time later. Of course, you know I always say there's no bad time for gifts, so I'll be just as glad to see them whenever they finally materialize, as I would have been to see them in March. Some things just can't be rushed. I also elected to take some days off for Good Friday and the Monday after Easter, which should provide some much needed time for relaxation in an otherwise busy weekend. HOORAY!!! Of course, everyone knows how I feel about those short weeks at work, and now I'll be looking at two of them in a row. No thanks very much not!
Of course, as we all know, things can always be worse. There's a recent Monkees song that starts, "Unlucky stars are in my sky; my fortune teller, she saw me and cried." Don't I know it! I mean, that's got to tell you something right there, and sometimes you've just got to stay in bed and pull the covers over your head, rather than taking your chances out in the wide world. Some people who should have stayed in bed were in our computer department last week, when they sent out a notice that said:
PLEASE SIGN OFF YOUR TERMINALS BY 6:00 PM.
WE WILL BE PREFORMING OUR DAILY BACKUPS.
Someone must have called and complained, because five minutes later, they sent out another message that corrected the part where they claimed to be "preforming" their backups, only in the second revision, they started out with a different problem, or as Daffy Duck would describe it, "pronoun trouble:"
PLEASE SIGN OFF YOU TERMINALS BY 6:00 PM.
WE WILL BE PERFORMING OUR DAILY BACKUPS.
Well, that stops far short of solving anything, in my estimation, and people can call me a stickler for accuracy (don't you dare!) but I think when you only have two sentences with 15 words, and even after you correct it, you still can't get it all right, then I really wonder if it isn't time to re-think that career path, and look for a job that doesn't require quite so much literacy. Perhaps they're hiring at the Kremlin, and I wouldn't be surprised if their infernal weather machine uses pictographs instead of words for the different weather conditions. So as long as you can tell the difference between a thunderbolt and a plague of locusts, you're all set. No please don't thank me, I'm just happy to help Mother Russia in "preforming" their daily backups. Go right ahead and tell Comrade Mischka that I sent you.
Happy April, and no fooling this time. I think we all learned our lesson about poking fun at Comrade Mischka and the Kremlin's infernal weather machine, when two weeks after the first day of Spring, we found ourselves looking like the inside of a snow globe, with swirling white flakes going every which way. Although here we only had flurries, other areas got some significant accumulations, and I don't mind saying, plenty unhappy about it at this late date. And I will also have you know that everyone can just stop looking at me like that, because for once, I had nothing to do with it. I did not take the flannel sheets off the bed, put away my winter coats and fuzzy boots, or even put the snow shovel back in the garage. In fact, I still have the bird bath heaters plugged in, even though it was 70 degrees last week, so please don't think that I'm taking the fall for anything this time around. However, just to be on the safe side, I'd like to take this opportunity to say, "I love Mother Russia!" And now I'm going to make like Vladimir, and I'm outta here.
Of course, last week was Palm Sunday, which everyone knows is the highlight of the church year, at least as far as the cats are concerned anyway. I don't dare come home from church without new palms, because it wouldn't be worth my life to show up at the door empty-handed and in the face of this collective feline multitude. Don't ask me how they know it's Palm Sunday, because they don't go to church, and we don't let them watch the news, because it only upsets them. I'd rather not know how they find this out, because I'd be afraid to discover that there's an international kitty short-wave radio frequency that they all use to keep in touch with the diabolical genius in charge of the species, which is the only explanation I have for how they always seem to be one step ahead of us poor befuddled humans in their thrall. In any case, you can't pass off old palms from last year on them, because they know the difference and don't you doubt it. It must be the smell, or the palm oil in the fronds or something, because they really go for them when they're brand new. In fact, we left a few in the living room, and even the invisible cats have been playing with them (!!!) including the Invisible Matriarch of the Invisible Clan, Miss "Don't-call-me-Muffy" Invisible Muffin her very own invisible self. And here all along, I thought she was Jewish.
For anyone who was wondering if things could get any more ridiculous at the New York State Office of Parks, Recreation & Historic Preservation, and well may you wonder, we have the following message from one of our alert readers (thanks, Rich!) with some helpful suggestions on their behalf:
======================================
Dear Friend at Wildwood campsite C-35
As per our previous directive, it is no longer advised to bring your own firewood to camp. In our previous correspondence, we failed to notify you of the local resources available. Please take notice.
1 - Locally purchased firewood, (available by the full cord only @ $235 per cord), This eco- environmentally correct dead wood, is gleaned from state land in Westchester County.
2 - For smaller quantities, premium hardwood toothpicks are recommended. Available at the local 7-11. Please call ahead to reserve 200 - 300 boxes. Thank you, come again.
3 - Any dead wood found on park property. (State park permit necessary, as well as local landscaping license. Also provide certificate from NYS Heath Department on completion of pesticide handling course. ** It is also recommended that you have a 2 yr degree in Entomology, from any state accredited school - specializing in the recognition of non indigenous insects.)
Special note: It is NOT advised to use any camp tables or benches as firewood (DESPITE THEIR APPARENT CONDITION). This would result in possible expulsion from the park, and we would not want to burn our bridges behind us, would we.
Note: Burning any part of any bridge is also prohibited.
Have a happy camping season
NYS Dept of Recreation & Parks Department
======================================
Well, I certainly do hope that this manages to clarify any misunderstandings there may have been among our vacationing public out there. Of course, we all know how I always worry when things like this start to make perfect sense to me!
Speaking of things that make no sense, last week Bill and I were coming back from being out, and we drove past a Citgo station where the sign said it was selling regular gas for $2.65/gal, which in this area right now would be 30 cents cheaper per gallon than anyone else. It seemed too good to be true, because as I pointed out to Bill, the line for that would be around the block and it would look like some old news footage from 1975. But on Sunday after church, I drove over there to check it out, because I wasn't going to pass up a bargain like that, but it turned out that they had gone out of business (and you could tell when, because it was 30 cents ago) and just left the signs up with the gas prices, which in retrospect, seem like nothing more than a cruel joke. I bit back my disappointment and gassed up at another neighborhood purveyor of quality petroleum products for $2.93/gal, which only set me back $17 thanks to the tiny gas tank on the Escort. (Unlike the Gremlin, which has a massive 26-gallon tank, and imagine what an investment that would be to fill with gasoline at these outrageous prices!) In any event, now that I have caved in and put gas in the car, I expect that the prices should come inching slowly back down for the rest of humanity, although I noticed that it had climbed to $2.99/gal at the Sunoco yesterday, which is the opposite of what I would like to see happening. I've done everything I can, so I certainly hope it helps. No please don't thank me, after all, virtue is its own reward.
Last month, I took the Monday after my birthday off from work, so I could enjoy a nice long weekend for my birthday, and that was a nice break in the routine and a change of pace. Then last Saturday, we were back at Mom's, and a lovely day it was too, but even with a couple of extra weeks thrown in there, the Birthday Elves still seemed not to have completed all of their necessary preparations, and so the birthday caravan just continues to roll along, and just like March Madness spilling over into April nowadays, my "birthday month" shows no sign of quitting, all this time later. Of course, you know I always say there's no bad time for gifts, so I'll be just as glad to see them whenever they finally materialize, as I would have been to see them in March. Some things just can't be rushed. I also elected to take some days off for Good Friday and the Monday after Easter, which should provide some much needed time for relaxation in an otherwise busy weekend. HOORAY!!! Of course, everyone knows how I feel about those short weeks at work, and now I'll be looking at two of them in a row. No thanks very much not!
Of course, as we all know, things can always be worse. There's a recent Monkees song that starts, "Unlucky stars are in my sky; my fortune teller, she saw me and cried." Don't I know it! I mean, that's got to tell you something right there, and sometimes you've just got to stay in bed and pull the covers over your head, rather than taking your chances out in the wide world. Some people who should have stayed in bed were in our computer department last week, when they sent out a notice that said:
PLEASE SIGN OFF YOUR TERMINALS BY 6:00 PM.
WE WILL BE PREFORMING OUR DAILY BACKUPS.
Someone must have called and complained, because five minutes later, they sent out another message that corrected the part where they claimed to be "preforming" their backups, only in the second revision, they started out with a different problem, or as Daffy Duck would describe it, "pronoun trouble:"
PLEASE SIGN OFF YOU TERMINALS BY 6:00 PM.
WE WILL BE PERFORMING OUR DAILY BACKUPS.
Well, that stops far short of solving anything, in my estimation, and people can call me a stickler for accuracy (don't you dare!) but I think when you only have two sentences with 15 words, and even after you correct it, you still can't get it all right, then I really wonder if it isn't time to re-think that career path, and look for a job that doesn't require quite so much literacy. Perhaps they're hiring at the Kremlin, and I wouldn't be surprised if their infernal weather machine uses pictographs instead of words for the different weather conditions. So as long as you can tell the difference between a thunderbolt and a plague of locusts, you're all set. No please don't thank me, I'm just happy to help Mother Russia in "preforming" their daily backups. Go right ahead and tell Comrade Mischka that I sent you.
posted by El Tango Fandango @ 7:18 PM
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