‘Lent’ Me Your Ears

Our record for Lent is pretty spotty over the last couple of decades because we have made some very, very bad decisions.

There was the year that we gave up sex for Lent. If our memory is correct, that’s the year that we killed 900 people and got divorced. So overall, not so good.

That was ALMOST as bad as the year that we gave up coffee for Lent. Lord have mercy.

We tried to do that when we were a) drinking maybe 10 cups of coffee a day b) working in a HIGH STRESS P.R. agency and C) trying to keep a low profile because the police were still looking for us for all the people we killed during the “no sex” Lent.

Then there was the Lent we gave up ibuprofen. Can you imagine, a former 128-pound football player from Norman High School — read “broken” — giving up ibuprofen while still mowing and digging and building stuff? Can you say, “moron”?”

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Valentine’s Day Flowers are for Kids; True Love is in the Rubbish Bin

Valentine-Heart

 

Love means never having to say, “you are SO IRREEEEEETATING.”

Or at least it should near Valentine’s Day.

But the Chinese Missus felt the need to say that again the other day, for perhaps the 10,000th time since we’ve been married.

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Wheelies Turn Boys Into Men

 

I got a bike just like this for Christmas when I was 10 years old.

It was a dark blue, Deluxe Renegade. And it was an absolute pocket rocket. I could pedal that sucker so fast that my feet were a blur.

Once, I raced a high school kid in his Volkswagen, from a standing start, and I blew his doors off.

But being a certified speed merchant wasn’t enough, at least not on Nebraska Street in 1966.

You also had to do wheelies.

And, for what seemed like an eternity, I just could not pop a wheelie. Not even a little one. It was horrible.

The older kids offered helpful suggestions — like maybe I should get a girl’s bike and wear one of my sisters’ frilly pink dresses.

Man, I hated those guys.

No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t get my front wheel off the ground.

But I was not a quitter, so I practiced for hours every day after school, even after it got dark.

Then, finally, one fine day I lifted the front wheel four or five inches off the ground and let out a war whoop.

I had cheated a little, jerking the gooseneck handlebars back exactly when my front tire hit the buckled pavement in front of our house.

That three-quarter-inch bump gave me just enough lift to break free from gravity, at least a little bit.

I wanted more!

I rode across that bump 10 million times over the next week, jerking backwards on the handle bars with all my might.

BOOM

Progress was painfully slow. But when it happened, it really happened.

I have no idea what I did differently, but I brought the front tire way up. I mean WAY up.

I actually flipped the bike right on top of me. It was great!

Thankfully, my head broke the fall and there was no damage to my Deluxe Renegade.

In truth, it must’ve hurt a lot. I know there was blood involved.

But what I remember most is that I had experienced flight — a real wheelie. I just needed to learn how to control it a little bit.

I become a man that day. And life on Nebraska Street was good.

 

Junior Be Cruisin’ De World, Playing Dem Songs

Junior on keys for the Rat Pack.

Junior on keys for the Rat Pack launch.

Junior emailed me this morning that he would go ashore in Ecuador and Skype us in the afternoon.

Which was great, except that he didn’t say whether this would be HIS afternoon in Ecuador or OUR afternoon in New Zealand.

As it turns out, it was both — his 6 p.m. and our noon. Win!

Except that wi-fi had not come to Ecuador.

Everything would have been just fine if he’d been in Peru, which is where I thought he was and which has wi-fi.

Who knew there was any difference between Ecuador and Peru? I mean, they are both somewhere in South America. Or possibly Africa.

I’m not totally sure about that.

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Hubba Hubba — The Eyes Have It

 

eyes this one

You would not think a new pair of glasses would be that big a deal.

But you would be wrong.

I allowed the Chinese Fashionista Missus to choose my new specs, and she boldy went where I had never gone before.

Big, round and tortoise.

Comments on my Facebook page include:

“Distinguished”.

“Great look.”

“Handsome.”

“Sharp.”

“Groovy.”

“Dashing.”

“Very distinguished.”

And my favorite of all…

“Hubba, hubba.”

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The Big Lady With Purple Hair

Yesterday, I was shopping in our version of Walmart when I saw her.

The first thing I noticed was her short, purple hair.

Then the “circus tent” dress, her 350-pound bulk, and the painfully swollen feet that were somehow stuffed into brightly colored Crocs.

I thought to myself, “I bet Mom would have loved this lady.”

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Top 10 Hogs Blogs For 2014!

 

hat-300x300

How can you choose which of your children are your favorites, because you love them all?

Blogs are like that.

But here are my Top 10 Hogs Blogs for 2014, in no particular order, except the first one, which probably was my favorite.

1. My Grampa’s Hat

Gramps looked especially cool when he was wearing his hat and tooling down Berry Road in his ’57 Chevy with the awesome fins. Man, that car was to die for.

2. Wacker’s Beats Walmart All to Heck

The world was a better place when Wacker’s, not Walmart, was the place to buy cheap stuff.

3. Deranged Old Man Eyebrows

“You’ve been cutting your eyebrows again, haven’t you?” Says the Missus. In that tone that your Mother used to use.

So I man up and give my answer. “No, I have not.”

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