of the "Red Green Show"
Even worse, he's got a lead-in photo referencing an obscure (OMG!) Canadian TV show.
At some time after the passing of the (ahem) drop-dead time for the alleged Mayan Apocalypse I suddenly realized that my "goofball" setting had been engaged. Feeling all loony and such, doncha know?
Before I continue, I simply must send you over to Home on the Range for a très amusant look at sports. Sports of all types. (While I'm at it, if you're not reading Brigid's blog every day, you are missing out on some unbelievably good writing. Not to mention recipes. Most of which involve bacon. And some awesome gun prOn. Trust me, I go there every day, twice on Sundays. Oh, did I mention that the lady used to fly jets? How cool is that?)
So yeah, I mention the Red Green Show (that link I gave you triggered that, what do you mean you didn't follow the link? Geez. Well, just don't forget). That show was a favorite back-in-the-day, when I could catch it on my local PBS station. Stateside, no problem, Europe, err, no, couldn't watch it. But I digress.
One of my favorite things about the Red Green Show was "The Man's Prayer", reproduced below:
I'm a man,
but I can change,
if I have to,
(Best done while sporting a hangdog expression and with lots of pathos in the voice.)
I had many an occasion to use this back when the progeny were young and scampering about the house doing youthful things. Especially when the Missus Herself would issue some command which required me to do some particular feat of child raising which I felt particularly unqualified to do. I would groan and roll my eyes (a trick, I might add, which the Naviguesser has perfected and which drives his wife, the DIL, to distraction).
Now the chilluns would comport themselves with amusement when I would recite the Man's Prayer accompanied (as it often was) with the "groaning eye-roll" (said maneuver not recommended for the untrained or faint of heart, especially when in close action with one's "better half") when I was faced with the wifely command to perform some action RIGHT NOW.
The Missus Herself was, more often than not, less than amused by these, my prayerful activities. Okay, she was never amused. In fact, as I recall, her wrath was most often directed at our offspring, along with the phrase "Stop laughing at your Father, you'll only encourage him!" Leaving three authentic children and one overgrown and "should know better" child (uh, that would be me) rolling about the floor in various stages of merriment while the Missus Herself would withdraw to her quarters muttering various imprecations and less than motherly threats. If you get my drift.
All that being said, the Mayan Apocalypse has come (and gone) and we're all still here. Suffering the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune and other such calamities NOT involving the reversing of the Earth's magnetic poles or some bizarre reversal of the Earth's gravitational characteristics. (How those two disparate phenomenon were ever conjoined in the mind of some Madison Avenue advertisement type eludes my powers of cogitation. As limited as those may be.)
So the weekend approaches. The holiday season is upon us and I am faced with the delicious prospect of two weeks off. That's right. TWO. WEEKS. OFF. I am overcome with joy. I'm sure something will occur to perturb this good feeling. Some rain will no doubt fall on my parade and I have no doubt that someone will, at some point soon, "pee in my Cheerios". But for the moment, je suis content.
Like I said at the beginning: No Topic, No Problem.
And yes, I am planning on updating (read starting) the brand new "Under Construction" Acronym Page mentioned above, sometime over the next two weeks. Sigh...
Je vais revenir.