Thursday, July 20, 2017

Made In America

The White House just held an exhibition of products made in America wherein each state sent in a representative sample of a product made there.

Rhode Island sent beer.
New Jersey sent soup.
No one sent napkins, so what kind of planning is that?

Here's a more representative list of Made in America:

Alabama: Sweet Homes

Alaska: Snow, bear crap, moose hooves.

Arizona: Dry heat, retirees.

Arkansas: G'wan, git you yankee!  Gun racks.

California: Therapy, Raisins, Severe mellow

Colorado: Pot, more pot, twinkie binges.

Connecticut: Departing corporate headquarters.

Delaware, Tax free shopping, Low, Slow.

Florida, 4 pm all you can eat buffets, gators, sunburn.

Georgia, Peaches, peanuts, annoying former presidents.

Hawaii, Luaus, leis, Magnum.

Idaho, potato based civilization.

Illinois, incarcerated governors, kevlar body armor.

Indiana, Not a damn thing.

Iowa, Empty baseball fields.

Kansas: Dust, small dogs, witches.

Kentucky, Bourbon, race day, old homes.

Louisiana, Hot sauce, creole cooking, floodwaters.

Maine, Ayuh, blackflies.

Maryland, Crabs, taxes, spent artillery shells.

Massachusetts, Chowdah, Lobstah, floating cars.

Michigan, Upper Peninsula cabin fever.

Minnesota, Ya sure, you betcha, lutefisk.

Mississippi, Old Muddy Water, Burnings.

Missouri, Show me. 

Montana, Big Skies, escape routes to Canada.

Nebraska, Insurance for victims of animal attacks.

Nevada, It all stays here.

New Hampshire, Massachusetts transplants, ten months of winter, two months of bad sledding.

New Jersey, turnpikes, parkways, toxic waste, wide open empty beaches.

New Mexico, Enchantment, fallout.

New York, Anything that ruins it for the rest of you.

North Carolina, Flight, moonshine.

North Dakota, Telephone poles, our state tree.

Ohio, My city, but it was gone.

Oklahoma, OK!

Oregon, Trails.

Pennsylvania, Cheese steaks, hoagies, cutting edge Amish tech.

Rhode Island, Quahogs, stuffies, Dels lemonade, steamahs, corruption.

South Carolina, Something sure as shit better'n North Carolina got, rebel flags.

South Dakota, Oil trains, spill cleanup kits.

Tennessee, Birdwalks, tuxedos.

Texas, Not sure yet, but it'll be bigger.

Utah, Misplaced optimism.

Vermont, New York transplants.

Virginia, Unaffordable housing.

Washington, Insomnia.

West Virginia, innovative cosmetic dentistry, crystal meth.

Wisconsin, a complete village of cheese.

Wyoming, Wide open spaces, more wide open spaces, folks you don’t know how to quit.

Bunny on.

Sunday, June 18, 2017

Still not on Facebook

Well, technically I am, but I'm not.  I think I've posted less than a dozen times, mostly about a woodworking project that turned out rather nicely and convinced friends I knew in high school that even a complete dolt can once in a while accomplish something.

Speaking of high school, a reunion was planned this summer but called off when the archaeologists that had been hired confirmed that they could not locate the original foundation of the gym.

A friend from childhood posted a challenge:  You wake up in the back of a police car next to me and can say exactly four words.  What are they?

Better be a dream.

Bunny on.

Saturday, May 30, 2015

This May Be the Biggest Mistake I've Ever Made...

And I've made a few.

Pushing the car out of the garage in neutral to save on gas.  Then realizing the driveway was just enough of a slope to send it on it's merry way down to make love with a stone wall.

Realizing that dry grass burns.  And how.

Assessing the full potential of marijuana while standing knee deep in snow with a mouth full of mouthwash.

But this may top even the scorch-fest of the summer of '75.

It's called Facebook.

I wanted to set up an account under my writer's name a few years ago.  I had had an account many years earlier under an anonymous name, set up because I really wasn't sure social media was for me.  It wasn't.  After a few evenings of staring at pictures taken by people I used to know, I shut down and left it alone.  It just wasn't that interesting to know what had been cooked the evening prior or where we had gone on vacation.  Isn't that what conversations are for?  Anyway, Facebook, because of security abuses, has gotten more sophisticated and I found out I couldn't have a page under an alias.   Makes sense, so I set up my page and then set up the subsequent page to promote a book I had written.  Then I walked away.  The book needed work.  Lots of work.  So I concentrated on making it legible to people who didn't get the inside jokes and were quickly alienated. 

A few weeks ago, after having survived the winter well enough and not once resorting to whiskey and heroin (well, certainly not heroin, anyway) I thought I'd post some sample chapters and went back onto the Facebook page.  I started with my home page.  There were three invitations from friends that I decided initially to ignore.  Then I changed my mind.  They were all nice people I was friends with and liked and admired.  I thought it would be rude to ignore them so I accepted their invitations, figuring that would be that.

And that it wasn't.  Invitations came cascading in.  Well, they came in.  Cascading, when one accepts my very limited social circle.  For normal folks, it would range from trickle to pathetic but it was a cascade for me.  I was overwhelmed.  Now I honestly don't know what to do.  I'm a Facebook user when I really just meant to be an anonymous curmudgeon.  I'm slipping down a dangerously slippery slope and I have to say it is at times, not altogether unpleasant.  I'm glad to see friends I was in a comedy troupe with years ago are alive, well and happy.  But why am I looking at what they had for dinner last night?  Am I becoming "one of them???"

I'll hang out of Fbook for a while longer and see what happens, but if I start habitually checking to see pictures of the kids, the cats, the collection of mummified bats during the day, I'm shutting down and going away.

At least I hope I will.

Bunny on.

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