STILL SMITTEN

 If you were one of the very kind people who happened by this blog a couple of days ago and read about my first meeting with Judy some decades ago, thank you for your many kind words.

As the title of this post states, all those years later we're still together and I'm still smitten by this lovely lady.

And as I'm about to show you, she apparently knew how good she looked in those black turtlenecks because they remained a staple of her wardrobe through the years.

When we were living in Guadalajara, Mexico in 1990, our friend Walter Nixon was quite obviously taken with her appearance too.

Walter produced some beauty himself - he was the father of the actress Cynthia Nixon.

Several years later we had moved back to the U.S.A. but had made a return trip to Mexico to visit friends.

Once again, Judy had donned a black turtleneck and was showing her affection for one of many cats that turned up in our lives.

She'll scold me for showing the next photo but I had to post it, of a much older couple giddy on possibly too much good wine.

The sweaters are still there though mine has gone to gray at this point.

Finally, speaking of alcohol abuse, I'm taking you back to Mexico, some time in the late 1980's, to a somewhat zany New Year's Eve celebration in a hotel in Guadalajara.

Oh look!

The black turtlenecks had disappeared and we were both in white!

But she was still beautiful and I was still smitten.

And judging by that chapeau on my head, the margaritas were working their magic.

COME-UPPANCE

 Some of you may remember the second part of a post I wrote recently.

You can find it here.

Well one of my regular contributors to the Humor Vault certainly remembered it and, just to rub my nose in it a bit more, he sent me the following comic strip this morning.

He added that he hoped lots of folks would also send me the clip.

Maybe this will forestall them!

Harrumph!

AT FIRST GLANCE

 Back in my past I had dreams of becoming a writer.

Not a journalist, which is what I spent my working life doing, but a real writer.

As I look back into the mists of time, I imagine I would someday be up there in the pantheon with Hemingway, Vonnegut, Kerouac, Tom Robbins, maybe.

What energy I put into these visions, however, I didn't seem to have a vision of what I would write about.

And I seemed to lack that other necessity - fortitude.

I dreamed of success without effort.

Then one day I saw an ad in a magazine for the Famous Writers School.

It seemed to promise to uncover my latent talent and lead me to the door to fame and riches.

So I wrote to them.

And forgot about it.

Until one day I answered my telephone and discovered a friendly feminine voice saying she represented the school and wanted to meet me and discuss my plans.

Wow!

My dreams were coming true after all.

Assuming that she had traveled to Indiana, where I lived, from Connecticut, where the school was based, I inquired where she was calling from.

She named a fairly close hotel and I said that I was going to be at that very same hotel that evening because a friend of mine who was a jazz drummer had a combo that was playing there that night.

We arranged a meeting in the hotel lobby.

Then I lay down for a nap and managed to over-sleep.

But I jumped in my car and hurried to the location.

Upon entering the lobby I encountered a beautiful woman wearing a black turtleneck sweater and a topcoat.

I was wearing a black turtleneck sweater and a topcoat!

We adjourned to a meeting room where I got the pitch to sign up for a correspondence course from the school.

I asked if the lady would like a martini but she declined, saying she could not partake while she worked.

After hearing the details I woefully told the representative that while I would like to enroll and take the course, I simply could not afford the fees.

Our meeting over, I said I was going into the lounge where my friend was playing and invited the gorgeous lady to join me if she was through working.

Let me now bring an end to this too-lengthy tale and tell you that many martinis later I learned that the lady was NOT from Connecticut, that she lived in the area and was an employee of the company representing Central Indiana.

I also had stunned her with my talent by writing poems on bar napkins.

Not to mention my black turtleneck sweater matching hers.

To say the least, I was smitten.

And, 89 days later, we were married.

Our first meeting was exactly 51 years ago today.

But when I'm asked how we met I still say "I picked her up in a hotel lobby!"

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

 Raise a cheer, ladies and gentlemen and Gentle Readers everywhere, the holidays are over!

Of course that means we'll have to find an excuse to explain our drinking to excess.

Oh never mind, it's always 5 o'clock somewhere.

And there's one thing the holidays have taught us.

Is that a creak I hear?

Oh no, it's a groan spreading around the globe.

I'll just ignore that and urge you and yours to have a great weekend!

And always remember to Keep Laughing!!!

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

EXCITEMENT

 Catalyst, SWMBO and their duplex next door neighbor really know how to wake up the neighborhood.

Actually it's our landlord and their management company that did it.

Today was the day when our HVAC units were replaced.

That involved two technicians who went up and down a ladder to the roof many, many times.

And this thing.

It arrived at about noon and was soon anchored in our driveway.

The reason for those heavy-duty anchors extending from the four corners of the truck soon became apparent.

The crane operator skillfully lifted our new "heater/cooler" effortlessly into the air, up, up, up and onto the roof.

The techs were there, having scrambled up the ladder again, to guide it into place, unlash it and wrap up the old unit.

The entire intricate dance was then repeated as my neighbor, Bill, had his unit replaced.

My aging eyes may have been betraying me but I told Judy I thought the head tech resembled Matt Damon and I asked him if he'd ever been mistaken for the Hollywood star.

He said no but it was a nice compliment.

What do you think?

Now THAT would have really turned the neighborhood upside down!

FUTILITY

 

JOY AND . . . NOT

 It's the 2nd of January.

Last night as I was turning in, I asked mein frau if she was going to have a difficult time getting used to the idea that tomorrow (today) was not Monday.

Having holidays mucking around with the weekends does tend to throw one for a loop.

Heck, some people were still celebrating the New Year today, I hear.

For some of us it is a time to make resolutions about how to improve our lives over the coming year.

For others . . .

I gave up making resolutions many New Year's ago.

Part of the joy of senescence is realizing it's probably too late to make much or any difference.

So Happy January Third tomorrow . . the first Monday of the New Year.

(groan)

FROSTING AND FOGEYISM

 We have long since given up staying awake to see a new year come into being.

In fact I didn't even make it until 2022 reached the east coast of the United States last night, some two hours ahead of here in Arizona.

So I was surprised this morning to see what the young cherub had brought with him.

A frosting of fresh snowfall.

Just tickling the shrubbery, the rooftops, the streets and the hills, it produced a nice panorama in the fresh morning light.

And that brings us to my second topic today.

You will recall my railing on about a recent jigsaw puzzle with a puzzling missing piece.

A piece that I opined had been left out of the mix when the pieces (499 of them) were sealed in the box.

The deviousness, the cravenness, the sheer maddening meanness of the shipper that would do such a thing.

Her Nibs, the daughter who gifted us this puzzle, criticized me harshly, insisting that the piece would be found in one of my pockets or shoes or on a nearby shelf or still in the packaging.

Well, yesterday SWMBO (the giftor's mother) took the puzzle apart and boxed it up and I took down the card table and put it away.

And a bit later, what did she discover?

Look carefully.

The light is a bit better now that the table has been moved but there . . . oh, it agonizes me to say this . . was this.

You can see how the color of the underside, in the shadow cast by the now moved table, would have disguised it from two sets of searching but aged eyes.

When it is turned over and placed on a black background you can see it is . . . .the missing puzzle piece.

So I apologize all around for my rants.

I shall lick my wounds and retire to my lair, shame wrapped around me like a cloak.

I gave the puzzle piece . . . the 500th piece . . . back to my long-suffering wife.

Hmmmm, I wonder if she put it back in the box with the others . . . or tossed it in the trash.

Would she?

Could she?

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

 Here it is at last.

The final day of 2021, or as Queen Elizabeth might say, another annus horribilis.

Another year of Covid, storms, fires, heat, cold and capped off by my terrible experience with a jigsaw puzzle.

But enough about that.

Let us gird our loins, hitch up our bootstraps, lift up our chins and charge merrily and boldly into 2022.

Just watch your heads.

And so, as the band plays off into the distance, we bid a not-so-fond adieu to another year and gaze hopefully into the future.

Now remember, it's a time for one last wonderful weekend full of oysters, champagne, egg nog, steak and lobster, and sweets beyond compare.

Sweets like the dessert prepared by my friend in Colorado, Jolly Jeanne, aka Beaner, recently.

It's all edible, including the stars, and I won't trouble you with the ingredients but will tell you it makes SWMBO's teeth hurt just to hear about them.

So enjoy, Happy New Year and always recall to keep laughing!

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

NO SOLUTION

 Remember, if you will, what I said about the jigsaw puzzle ODD (Our Demented Daughter) forced on us as a Christmas "gift" this year.

Remember, if you will, what I said about a piece possibly left missing.

The puzzle was completed a few moments ago.

Here is a picture of the insane enigma some mad artist created.

As in any photos displayed on this blog, clicking on them will embiggen them.

You will perceive then the beauty of the wildlife, both flora and fauna, shown here by the mad genius of the creator.

But let me show you something else.

Let me show you a close-up of one portion of this "entertaining puzzle".

Look carefully.

Yes!

Yes, my Readers!

It is a blank space!

A black hole!

Where one of the FIVE HUNDRED pieces of this infernal mind-plagluer was supposed to fit!

Was it on the table?

Was it on the floor?

Was it in the box?

Nay, nay!

It was MISSING!

Just as I suspected.

The parlayer of this "entertaining puzzle" had left it out!

Misplaced it!

Do not misunderstand me.

I am not blaming the daughter.

The puzzle was inside a sealed box, encased in plastic film, never having been opened since the dastardly factory shipped it.

But this is not playing fair, ladies and gentlemen.

This is playing with our sanity; more importantly MY sanity.

This is a danger to the National (or more likely, International) Morality.

I weep for the young people of tomorrow who shall undertake jigsaw puzzling, only to be cheated of their victories.

Is nothing sacred anymore?

NASTY GIRL

 As noted by careful readers of at least one message on the refrigerator door of my wife's daughter yesterday, the BRD (Beautiful Rich Daughter) does have a vicious streak.

It was expressed cruelly at her Christmas Eve brunch when she presented her mother with an unexpected gift.

A jigsaw puzzle.

She knows, oh yes she knows, how I hate jigsaw puzzles.

I can't stay away from them, no matter how hard I try to ignore them.

So there I go again, erecting the card table for SWMBO (She Who Must Be Obeyed) to dump out the pieces and begin the work.

I hide in front of my computer or try to watch a football game on the television but eventually my eyes are drawn to that damnable mess on the table in the kitchen.

And before long, I am joining my wife at the torture of seeking out pieces that do not belong, or pieces that obviously have fallen off the table and have been kicked under the refrigerator, or pieces that the puzzlemaster surely has left out of the box.

Yesterday, I think it was though all awareness of time has vanished like the missing puzzle pieces, this was our progress on the enigma in our formerly happy home.

It's a little futher along now but we still have miles, miles I say sadly, to go before we sleep.

(to be continued)