Standing around the barbecue this evening, I said something that caused me to think that maybe I have been too long removed from living in the city. Having spent most of my adult life in one urban landscape or another, I have always thought of myself as relatively sophisticated, or street wise if you will. One of the cardinal rules of this urban wisdom is that you don’t ever want to be perceived as being or sounding un-ironic. Sounding like a hick. Cynical speech rhythms and a subliminal shrug of the shoulders characterize this attitude bred in the city that to this point in my life I have spoken as a first language.
“Hey honey, when I pull the burgers off can you wrap mine up all special like you done before?” As soon as the words left my mouth, Michelle slowly turned to face me and I had that same strange feeling you get when in a foreign country, you ask for what you think means “Can I please have a glass of water” and the thought goes through your mind that what you really asked the waiter was if his wife had ever had the clap. “Wrapped up all special… Barney? Do I look like fuckin’ Aunt Bea?” Outed! Exposed by my own wife as a hayseed.
A few years ago such an accusation would have cut to the quick. Part of the beauty of being too long in the country is that I just don’t care about such things any longer. I don’t think I’ll ever be a “real” country boy, but I’m trying.
Like it or not Mr. President, the title of “Leader of the Free World” carries with it a certain responsibility to avoid looking foolish.
I’ll leave it for you readers to decide which image commands the most respect.
H/T to Gerard for the photos.
Something like this doesn’t inspire awe in the way that base jumping does, but you work with what you have.
H/T to Driscoll
Michelle left me a list of things to do this Saturday which included a huge pile of laundry needing ironing. Being a bachelor until the age of 38 I never really mastered the art of ironing, so I thought what better place than the intertubes for a tutorial.
Ah…here’s what I’m looking for.
Towels were not actually on the list of items needing pressing but taking the initiative is always appreciated around here. I believe the pile of shirts, slacks, and skirts laying on our bed can wait. I suspect I might even get laid this evening in return for my domestic industriousness but the look of pride and satisfaction I will receive upon Michelle’s return this evening will be reward enough.
I better watch the lesson again. I want to get this right.
One wonders what Mr. Simmons’ reaction would be if construction of a white supremacist mega-church were being planned for the site of Martin Luther King’s assassination. Or a waterpark for that matter. The dumb has really hit the fan with this particular issue on the left.
From Wizbang via Fausta.
I suspect that the outcome of this match would have been quite different than what is shown here but that’s just me.
Who ever put this little fantasy fight together is either suffering from small man syndrome or is a racist. Probably both.
Via Sippicans Borderline Sociopathic Blog for Boys.
Just back from a quick four day vacation with the kids. Water park, roller coasters, escsaped dog, flat tire (again). Drove the Chevy this time so no problem.
As of this morning, my real estate “career” is taking a back burner as I have accepted a position as marketing guru-poobah for a rather talented local commercial photographer/web-site designer. I’m not really sure what a marketing guru-poobah does so I’ll be figuring it out on the fly as usual. Let me know if you have any ideas so I can at least fake it convincingly. Take a look at some of his work here.