The other day, while sitting around with some white chicks talkin' trash, my line of thought came into question.
The discussion entailed one of my Countess' daughters saying that when she grew up, she didn't want a small dog - she wanted a really, really big dog.
"Why on earth would you wish for this?" I beseeched, "Don't you realize the waste management issues? Little dog, little poop. Big dog - you're going to be picking up something the size of a roast."
The Good Countess Linda turned to me, agape, with an incredulous look on her face.
"Oh."
"My."
"Gawd, Baroness."
"How the hell did you go from dog poop to roast beef??? Heysoos Marimba, woman - what kind of bizarre, tangential thinking goes on in that cranium of yours?"
Well, let me tell you something.
Actually, some things.
1. Linda should know better - I mean, we've been friends for 30-odd years. You'd think she'd have figured this charming quality about me by now.
2. I in no way consider her comment an admonishment. Quite the contrary, as a matter of fact.
I regard it as a sincere compliment - linear thinking is just not my bag, man.
3. How do I think? Well, think 'Family Circus' when Jeffy goes on one of his little vision quests, then superimpose this on a hummingbird in a field of honeysuckles, add a few double-shot Americanos, and throw in some childhood medication flashbacks, and you've pretty much got it.
The discussion entailed one of my Countess' daughters saying that when she grew up, she didn't want a small dog - she wanted a really, really big dog.
"Why on earth would you wish for this?" I beseeched, "Don't you realize the waste management issues? Little dog, little poop. Big dog - you're going to be picking up something the size of a roast."
The Good Countess Linda turned to me, agape, with an incredulous look on her face.
"Oh."
"My."
"Gawd, Baroness."
"How the hell did you go from dog poop to roast beef??? Heysoos Marimba, woman - what kind of bizarre, tangential thinking goes on in that cranium of yours?"
Well, let me tell you something.
Actually, some things.
1. Linda should know better - I mean, we've been friends for 30-odd years. You'd think she'd have figured this charming quality about me by now.
2. I in no way consider her comment an admonishment. Quite the contrary, as a matter of fact.
I regard it as a sincere compliment - linear thinking is just not my bag, man.
3. How do I think? Well, think 'Family Circus' when Jeffy goes on one of his little vision quests, then superimpose this on a hummingbird in a field of honeysuckles, add a few double-shot Americanos, and throw in some childhood medication flashbacks, and you've pretty much got it.
Which sorta kinda explains how I arrived at today's TT.
Come September, as soon as the chilluns are out that door, I go into Organize mode. It is time, people - time to undo all the chaos that has been swirling around during the summer. Time to attack the junk drawers, the closets, the black-hole-piles of potentially pertinent mail.
And as I did this, I thought to myself, "Dear God, how does this happen?". And then, in one of my patented "Where Did That Come From" moments, I thought of a long-forgotten song:
And as I did this, I thought to myself, "Dear God, how does this happen?". And then, in one of my patented "Where Did That Come From" moments, I thought of a long-forgotten song:
...What if God was one of us?
Just a slob, like one of us?
Just a stranger on the bus, trying to make his way home...
Joan Osborne, "One of Us"
Just a slob, like one of us?
Just a stranger on the bus, trying to make his way home...
Joan Osborne, "One of Us"
Yeah, I can't explain it.
But I sure love this song.
7 comments:
When you're finished, will you please come get me all straightened out, too? Pretty please?
Countess Mama: But you're whirling dervishes are wreaking havoc elsewhere, non? And US Thanksgiving's not until, what, late October? Oodles of time. How far is your place from Toronto? I'll be there in less than a month...
We're getting a Newfie soon and now all I can think about is having to pick up something the size of a roast beef. Oiy!
Maybe I'm going to reconsider.
Oh and here's a little something fun to do. There's a certain very popular parody of that song you linked to...the Joan Osborne song. If you can find the parody that has something to do with cannabis...listen to it and then ask yourself if the voice sounds familiar.
and if I only could,
i'd make a deal with god
and get 'im to swap our places...
Countess Auds: I 'YouTube'd many, many different versions but I think you're referring to Al. What a genius!
As for the dog - reconsider.
Countess Fireblossom: Who're you planning on swapping with? I can assure you, beyond a shadow of doubt, while God's to-do list may be somewhat more extensive, it's also infinitely more exciting.
Sorry, all I can think is "rump roast."
Never. Eating. One. Again.
Countess F.B., MD: Now THAT is funny.
Unless, like, you're hungry.
And/or iron-deficient.
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