A THOUGHT

Apropos of whatever you prefer . . .

Ahhhhhh . . . . .

Breaking News: Arizona stays on Standard Time!

(oh, you mean that's old history?

Never mind.)

JUST IN TIME

Judy's Christmas Cactus has become an Easter Cactus this year.

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

Well hello there!

Here we are once again, Gentle Readers.

Where?

I thought you'd have that feeling.

You know why he's so excited, don't you?

Big news out of the White House last night.

How will that go?

Well in the famous words of one of the participants "We'll see."

All right, on with the show.

You didn't think I'd forget the pie chart, did you?

All right that's enough.

After all we don't want to have to go to the hospital to have that laughter stitch removed from your side, do we?

Whatever you do, however you do it, no matter how silly you look, please have a super-duper weekend, Gentle Readers.

And always remember to keep laughing!

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

(Yes, you.)

CYNTHIA/MIRANDA FOR GUV?

While I try to avoid politics in my blog I sometimes am drawn into it almost against my will.

Such is the situation today when I read in the New York Times that the daughter of an old pal I met in my Mexico days reportedly is considering a run for governor of New York.

Governor Cynthia?

A mutual friend in Seattle asked me this morning what I thought.

My response was that I knew Ms. Nixon had been a quite public activist dealing with the New York City public school system for a number of years.

I also said that 2018 is definitely The Year of the Woman in politics and that Cynthia is very intelligent.

But I'm also aware that running a state, especially one as large as New York, is a lot different from acting as one on stage or being an education activist.

On the other hand she does have that friendship with the mayor of the Big Apple to count on.

So who knows?

Maybe some day that young actress I got to know when she visited her dad in Mexico back in the 1980's may have a much larger platform in the 21st Century.

("Need a press secretary, Cynthia?") 

I do know one thing.

Her father would be even prouder of her than he was way back then in Guadalajara.

HOW ABOUT THE HEREAFTER?

How, indeed?

If I can get a blog post out of this I shall mark it up as an accomplishment.

As I was idly reading through various blogs today I was smote smack on the forehead with not one but TWO references to The Great Beyond.

Mr. Pudding began this frame of reference by taking a walk through a cemetery over where he lives in Sheffield, U.K.

Talk of gravestones put my mind into a reflective mood.

And then, as I was reading marvelous Val's latest post there was an aside about a gambler in her area of Missouri who had used a windfall to pay off his mother's headstone!

Well, when one has been smitten right between the eyes twice on the same day it calls to him to take up his duties as a scribe.

So here it is.

I have long planned for my imperfect body to be consumed by flames when it is through perambulating.

Cremation is my game and I had absolutely no plans for the ashes.

Dump 'em, said I to SWMBO and probably also to the BRD, whichever is called upon to take charge of the nasty task.

But having my mind joggled by these two other bloggers today got me thinking.

What if, to my great amazement, there may be someone who survives me who would want to visit my resting place?

Should I have a headstone somewhere with my name on it?

Perhaps with some amusing epitaph inscribed thereon, like "I told you I was sick."

That one has mistakenly over the years been attributed to Oscar Levant.

Then there's this fellow:

Or the voluble Merv Griffin.

Of course, all of these options cost money.

Just ask Jessica Mitford, author of The American Way of Death.

Oh, never mind, she's been gone since 1996.

But getting back to my point(?) what decision must I come to?

To lie under some shrine of some sort or to disappear forever?

Without becoming macabre here, what is your choice?

REFLECTION

Who is that down there coming after my food?

Nope, it's not Blackwell.

It's one of the BRD's tribe . . name of Jet . . looking back at himself.