LINCOLN’S MOTHER’S DOCTOR’S DOG

That title might sound silly to you. If so, you’re right. But I’ll explain the brilliant reasoning behind it: Several years ago I read about a survey of American reading habits. It said the four topics that would attract the most American readers were “Lincoln, Mothers, Doctors, and Dogs." Gee, we must have been straight-laced back then! Now it would probably be more slanted to movie and sports stars plus debt and taxes. Dogs still might make the list. Even in supposedly tough times I see more people with two or more dogs, most stopping to leave tributes on my lawn. I don’t mind the lawn-defiling so much, but scraping my lawnmower tire treads could make a dirty stick my Man’s Best Friend!

Now since lots of writers read blogs, let’s think about this: How many times do we find titles that give us FOUR chances to write a Best Seller? So why not use that title, just as-is, (or as-was) and write your own version of Lincoln’s Mother’s Doctor’s Dog? Most people don’t even know much about his mother, and less about his doctor and nothing about any dog he might have had. Or the stick he used to. . . well, you know. And we will ALL know all those people and dogs when you enlighten us with your tale. No fear of perjury, as titles are not copyrightable, unless you’re usurping a famous one and trying to pass off “Gone With the Wind” as your own.

I’ve already messed with the “Dog” part, which I hope will get you started ‘scraping up stuff’ for the three human subjects. Anything you might find that Lincoln said or did should likely come next. His mother and doctor are harder, so I leave that up to you. I do see a framework for a soap-opera plot there, because what mother isn’t attracted to doctors? Even if no more scandalous than only for their sons to become or their daughters to marry.

It is easy to find quotes from famous folk, whether they said them or not. Yogi Berra must be continually surprised when he reads brand new made-up quotes that sound like his “Poils of Wisdumb.” Will Rogers’ zingers could fill books, and does so. But Rogers made his living being a ‘communicator,’ while so many “great names” rarely said much worth archiving. Henry Ford’s statement that fascinates me the most was one he took a lot of guff about: “History is Bunk!” If you’ve ever read a news story of something you saw or experienced you will likely agree with him. I’ve found at least a name or a place spelled wrong, or a typo error in most events I witnessed -- and where the reporter didn’t seem to have been there! Now compare the new (and more expensive) copy of a high school or college history text. See how so many “facts” and heroes have changed to meet the new more trendy viewpoints of what academia wants kids to believe NOW, instead of “last year’s slant.”

But wait! Re-thinking the Henry Ford quote about History - - If it really IS bunk, then maybe he never said that! I am “History” myself! I am “Raker.” Welcome back, Willie!

The agent behind the Orange

As I was wiping my greasy fingers of a thin layer of agent orange dust or something just as toxic, I started to wonder what is it that I love about Cheese Doodles so much. I mean after all, they are just some puffed up caloric corn meal extrusion in the shape of a small zeppelin aren’t they? Well to us maybe, but to the spirit of a big cheese ball named Morrie Yohai (1920-2010), 'Doodling’ was literally THE invention of his life.

Not that Morrie thought so mind you. He was busy with other important stuff like deciding on what toys to stuff into Cracker Jack boxes. Yohai never completely appreciated how popular his tubular crunchy snack would become when he created and named it in the late 50’s. However, I think the snack king secretly must have embraced his 70’s ‘inner hippie’ with that nifty neon-orange powder coating that should show up perfectly under a black light.

Now while I love these snacks, I usually prefer to get my natural ‘Snooki’ self-tan from a bottle, instead of some artificial cheesy sack of finger food. My t-shirts never look quite as white after I bust into a bag of these better than cheddar snacks, especially when I’m squeezing ‘em dry for a glass of orange juice.

Yes, poor Morrie never realized the pure, unbridled joy that his corny creation would bring to the future of family snacking. Clearly, there are few foods in life which are more fun sticking out of random orifices than cheesy corn cylinders. Shove ‘em under my lip and I’m a vampire; Stick them in my ears and I am Franken-freak. And let’s not forget the nose – that’s the Holy Grail of places to plug-in cheesy, crumb-covered snacks. Yes, next to mini-marshmallows, everyone ‘NOSE’ that there is no better ammunition than a depot of wet ‘doodles’ when declaring a ‘full-blown’ snack attack – as long as they’re only ORANGE!

Hares and other wild tails

Everybody loves fluffy bunnies with their long silky ears, cute little hops, and their expressionless, soul-less eyes. I have only owned one rabbit in my life and IT (I don’t even remember if it was a boy, girl, or a rabbit at all) was probably the most dissatisfying ‘24 carrot’ thing we have ever owned.

I have always seen rabbits at County Fairs and in pet shops where they are typically passive, un-agitated, and the only disagreeable trait is when they hunker down a bit when giving them a too-aggressive pat behind the ears. Our rabbit was captured in the wild and apparently spawned from the loins of Lucifer himself. The rabbit was a pushy bully who would scratch, kick, and literally knock anyone or anything around that got in his way. Needless to say the other wild rabbits in this dude’s ‘borough’ were as thrilled as we were to get rid of the beast. Best of all we got four nifty ’LUCKY’ keychains and $2.50 a pound out of the deal.

I blame my wife 'T' for the rabbit, cat, birds, and most any other wild animals that we have encountered. So our kid could pet a bunny, I have seen my wife literally keep other rabbits on the move so long that they finally give up running. Once on a hike about 30 miles South of the Arctic Circle, 'T' nearly led us to step on a MOOSE resting in the tall grass. I can honestly say my pants were never the same after that TOO close encounter. We had a similar experience with a beefy and angry sea lion when we happened to run the bow of a small dinghy into the buoy that the big bull was sleeping on.

Yes the wife has developed the unique ability at seek out and trap innocent creatures of nature. Clearly she can wrangle most anything from its natural habitat and wear it down into submission. I’m pretty sure that is the way I was snagged so many years ago ... before they had laws against illegal bear trapping.

I’m one mixed up OLD DOG!

As I have gotten older I have started to worry that people will judge me when they find out that my DNA was hijacked by some sort of street dog. I am not completely sure what kind of dog yet, but I am fairly certain I’m a mangy, reincarnated ‘Chupacabra’ (goat sucker) mongrel mix instead of a high-brow fancy Purebred. Given the content of my usual blog posts and my propensity to eat, I am starting to lean towards some kind of rare BULLdog and CHOW mix.

Since I often curl up in some corner of the room for a nap, and I am unusually skilled with my hands at digging in the yard I have definite dog tendencies. I am constantly dog-breath challenged, prefer ‘collared’ shirts, and of all things I really enjoy canned hash. If you never have had the pleasure of eating this stuff, when you open the tin it looks and smells EXACTLY like dog food – YUM! But when it’s cooked up into a fattening crispy patty, my wife has to start shaking a can of pennies to scare me away from those delicious but caloric ‘Gains’ burgers.

I have mellowed and yellowed a bit as I have gotten older however. I don’t ‘bark’ orders as much as when I was young and rarely if ever, do I shred the Sunday paper before getting it INSIDE the house. Also, despite being raised by culturally challenged Appalachian wolves, I now have learned the joys of indoor plumbing. As long as there is the fragrantly musky scent of Pine Sol and Mountain DEW in the air to remind me of home, I’m happy!

I guess it’s true that I am more of an old loyal dog these days instead of a lean and mean junkyard scrapper. Apparently the wife has trained me well and has done an exceptional job at keeping a short leash on me. As a self-proclaimed ‘LAPtop’ dog I don’t mind it so much especially since being a ‘Setter’ is a job requirement for a blogger. I only wish someone could give me a few ‘Pointers’ on getting old though - since now, I am rapidly turning into a ‘GREYhound’!

The ‘Prime 9’ interview questions most often asked of Spiders

One of my favorite books of all time is Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White. I’m not sure why the book speaks to me but maybe it is because its main character is Charlotte, a talking spider, and the book features Wilbur, the conversational pig as well. My personal relationship with swine thus far has been limited to eating various slabs of their body parts slathered in BBQ sauce so rarely will they grant me an interview.

Though spiders mostly ignore me as well, cleaning up after their webs is a constant source of frustration. Spiders are like the brood of children that I never had, who provide my garden with benefits but at the same time leave a mess everywhere they roam. If I could sit down over a plate of nachos or maybe a mummified fly with a talking spider, I think, like most deranged people, I have a lot of important questions to ask. Just in case, I ever get the chance for such an interview, I have prepared the following top nine queries that most people REALLY want to know about spiders:

1) Are you bothered when garden bullies call you ‘four eyes’ even when in reality you have four PAIRS of eyes?

2) Does ejecting limitless yards of floss out your rump hurt and is it Waxed or Mint?

3) As a spider, do you have any phobias like myself, such as ‘of the birds and the bees’ or hairy-bristle legs?

4) Does it bother you that no ‘macho’ high school on earth bills itself as “Home of the Super-Silky Spinning Spiders”?

5) While it’s obvious that you don’t shave your legs; are your eight armpits essentially hairless, like those of ‘baby-face’ Tobey Maguire?

6) Everyone wants to know, do you drive a Fiat, Ferrari, or Alpha Romeo ‘Spider’; or do you prefer the daring spelling of the Maserati Spyder for that ultimate ‘bad arachnid’ image.

7) If I gave you ‘two sense’ for your thoughts would your ‘spidey senses’ be twice as valuable?

8) Given your – uh, appendage situation … are you offended that the terms ‘Eight Ball’, ‘Dr. Octavius’, ‘Octo-Mom’ and the 70’s TV series ‘Eight is Enough’ all have primarily bad connotations associated with them?

9) While everyone knows you are ‘Web savvy’, do you prefer Yahoo or Google as your primary search engine.

So who cares about any more trendy interviews with ‘emo’ Vampires or other soul-less hacks like Hollywood actors and political zombies. Now if you ever meet old Charlotte and her spider family in person, you’ll be well on your way to a hard-hitting ‘web’ interview without any of the ‘spin’. Oh yeah, and if you happen to meet curly-tailed ‘Wilbur’ along the way, be nice – or better yet, have him for DINNER!

The ‘Poodle-loon’: A man, a pooch, and a dream

Recently our friends introduced us to their new dog that was so small it is referred to as a ‘teacup poodle’. Now I think it is probably more of the size of a ‘Big Gulp’ or a ‘Thirsty Two Ouncer’ cup but you get the idea. He is a cute little guy and seems to do all the stuff normal dogs do except in a far more diminutive, two-pound curly poodle packaging.

I am a little worried about him because he doesn’t yet understand the ways of the real world. Just because he has all the attitude of the ‘big dog on campus’, his stature is still only a fearsome 5 inches tall unless WET and then he is reduced to freshman ‘rat status’. Honestly, if that little furry piece of lightning came running into the bedroom when I am half-asleep, I would scream in terror like an even littler girl than usual. Out of primal fear, I would instinctively react by throwing pillows at it or even worse, unleash the wrath of my freakishly large hippo feet bound in pink ballet slippers. There has to be a way to make that little black dog a little more obvious when it is underfoot and a tad less frightening when it’s beady black eyes come charging in at ankle-level unexpectedly.

No don’t worry I won’t try anything in-humane or risk the little guy’s health. My two previous animal inventions both failed anyway. The first one, I briefly froze an ant’s metabolic rate and attached a custom made quarter-inch chariot with wheels. This idea would have worked too but my miniature version of Charlton Heston never could get used to commanding the ant in place of a pony. I also once made a walking harness for our kitten so my daughter could take her for community strolls. Every time I would loosely fit the contraption around her kitty waist, she would get all ‘catty’ and passive aggressive. That cat’s protests consisted of nary a growl or riled meow, she simply locked all four appendages and toppled over stiff-legged like a frozen fainting goat. If your thoughts of a nice walk with your pet consists of dragging a furry anchor through a sunny meadow, then this idea is for you.

Dogs however are ‘Man’s best friend’ and I’m mostly all-man right? So basically this time my plan for the teacup mutt is to get a couple of those ‘Underdog’ helium balloons and inflate them to counteract most of the curly pennyweight’s puny poundage. I’ll make it so he’ll not quite float but the rig might slow the micro-dog down a bit. If nothing else, maybe if I sew him up one sparkly paw-glove, he’ll learn to ‘moonwalk’ for Epic Records, or even better, NASA. Obviously my balloon harness invention, which I have dubbed the ‘Poodle-loon’, will make the pup easily visible to the human eye and ensure his safety in my big-footed presence. And who knows, the pooch might even be a BIG hit at the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade – unless it’s windy or it RAINS!