Is This the Real Life? Is This Just Fantasy?

. . . and lurking around in Costa Rica!  YIKES!  But how true his words still ring. . .  

Caught in a landslideNo escape from reality

Open your eyes

Look up to the skies and see

I'm just a poor boy (Poor boy)

I need no sympathy

Because I'm easy come, easy go

Little high, little low

Any way the wind blows

Doesn't really matter to me, to me.

(lyrics from "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen)

Now I Know . . .

. . . where to wear that pastel winter jacket.  To Friar Tuck's, of course!

(Can't wait for the matching Easter bonnet in a few weeks.)

Paris Vertical : Primrose Horizontal . . .

. . .umm something is drastically wrong with this picture.

This DailyDON'T is on myself.  DON'T forget to water your plant.  Especially when it was given to you by a very, very good friend.  AND especially when that very, very good friend just might remember how you abused their gift . .  for the rest of your natural life!

Cruising for Love?

Date:  Saturday, February 13th
Time:  11:51am
Scene:

• Cruiser #1 is parked at scene.
• Cruiser #2 speeds through intersection, careening into No Parking Zone.

(Tension rises on the street as the action continues. . .)

• Male Officer leaps from Cruiser 2 and stealthly moves forward.
• Female Officer leaves Cruiser 1 and struts to sidewalk, meeting Officer 2.

Just as the air thickens to peak levels in anticipation of the take-down. . . the Officers smile, clasp hands and duck into the cafe for a lover's lunch!   Love knows no laws.

Dr. Seuss on the Loose

Thing 1 or Thing 2?
Maybe Cindi-Loo Who?
Those stripes made me dizzy
And her hair was quite frizzy
When she pulled off that Who Hat,
She wasn't all that.

She was out for a Who bash,
after dining on Who Hash
But she'll just have to crash
'Cuz she lost her Who cash.

Fly the Unfriendly Skies - The Taming of the Shrew

There is a recent re-emergence of various blogs, stories, articles and even crazy ravings about today's lack of manners, gentility and just generally being more considerate of each other.  This WILL fall into one of those categories - I leave it for you to decide which one.


Anyone travelling by air has their own horror stories, hysterical quips and even witnessing touching, heartfelt moments.  My little travelogue today is about carry-on luggage and the selfish fools that just don't get it.  Granted, airlines imposing increasing fees for checked baggage are a huge instigator, but these luggage laden lugheads have been on flights for decades.


The issues often begin at security checkpoints, but the intensity really gets interesting at the boarding gate.  I recently witnessed a petite young female passenger instantly morph into a fierce shrew battling with the gate agent who was respectfully asking to check her bulging "carry-on" bag at the gate as it was too large to fit in the overhead bin of this completely full flight.  Her once pretty, dark doe eyes grew three sizes and I swear I could see laser beams shooting from those now dark, maniacle sockets, as she immediately flew into a wild rant of  "OH NO  IT FITS  IT ALWAYS FITS  I AM TELLING YOU IT FITS!"  Repeatedly.  Over and over.


The gate agent remained calm and asked her to test the bag in question in the "If your bag fits here" metal boxes that was discreetly pushed to the side of the gate area.  The young shrew stomped to "the box" and immediately began extruding shoes, boots and great bulky articles of clothing from the bag, stuffing them into her already giant shoulder tote.  (Mind you, according to FAA regulations, that shoulder tote must fit under the seat in front of her.)  After wedging the newly sized carry-on down into "the box", the agent had no choice but to allow the bag.  I was allowed to board while she extracted the bag from "the box" and I lost sight of any further incident.


Now on board, and settled in my window seat at the rear of the plane, I observed countless other "bin space hogs" commiting further attacks on common decency inside the cabin.  Continual reminders from the flight crew that this was a completely full flight and repeating the FAA guidelines about boarding procedures. . . "roller bags in the overhead bins first, smaller bags under the seat in front of you" etc bore no impact on these idiots.


Among the selfish acts were turning roller bags sideways, taking up space for TWO bags, cramming two or three various carry-on pieces into the overhead bins and laying carefully smoothing large overcoats out on the floor of the overhead bin (I suspect they were a valet in a previous life by the extreme care they took to prevent wrinkles).   Those voracious valets were also completely oblivious that they were blocking the aisle and preventing 157 other passengers from moving to their seats.  This continues for an endless 25 minutes.


Then . . .along comes the Shrew!  Certain she had regained her sweet, petite demeanor since she was in possession of the bulging roller bag, I watched with hopeful anticipation.  Alas - my hopes were in vain.  She heaved that bag into an empty bin, turned it sideways, stuffed the now near-bursting tote along side, closed the bin door and plopped into her window seat.  Thinking that no one would re-open the bin and try to add their own bag to the bin.


The flight attendant at the rear of the plane witnesseed this as well.  Gave a light sigh, put a smile on her face and proceded forward to "assist" the Shrew.  She carried out her mission with grace, finesse but determination.  After re-opening the bin, explaining that the bag would fit more compactly turned length-wise with the roller wheels to the outside and kindly, but sternly, asking the Shrew to place the tote under the seat in front of her, she turned heel and left no opporunity or time for Shrew rebuttal.


As the attendant was assisting the next passenger, we exchanged quick smiles and I gave her a nod - job well done.  She smiled again.  We both secretly wished the Shrew a comfy flight with her little Shrew legs cramped against that seam-groaning tote at her feet.


The flight home was otherwise uneventful and my thoughts started forming for this post.  Have we become so self absorbed that even in the small, contained spaces of a commercial jet, that we really have absolutely NO awareness that there are 200 other human beings around us?!  Can we not just take a few seconds to think about how our own actions effect others around us?


Or have we all become shrew-thinkers that can never be tamed?

Here is THE SITUATION . . .

. . . these New Jersey trees were tall and green 12 hours ago.  UG.  DON'T travel in February - you may not get back home until May.

Wide Hogs

By all means, take up enough seats for six people, let your belly hang out and snore like grizzly bear with a sinus condition.  Just what everyone else in the terminal wants to see at 5:30 in the morning.

Mommy May Think That Now . . .

. . . but wait until this wretched little critter is screeching at the top of it's charming little lungs!

And it will.  They ALL do.

First Sign of Spring?

"They say Eve tempted Adam with an apple, but man I ain't going for that.  I know it was her pink Cadillac."

Now-a-days it Mary Kay doing the tempting.   I'll pass.

Prince of Tide

enlarge image for full effect

The Weekly Tuck - Special Edition

This is a DON'T MISS!  Great staff and not at all what you expect before you crawl through the Hobbitt front door.  Some people even got married inside here.  Well . . . maybe not last night.

Go hang there!

Lots of Information . . .

. . . but the fine print worries me.

"We Reload..."

Does that mean if you are dumb enough to solicit them and they miss you with the first shot - they're sure to hit you with the next round?

If You See This Shirt . . .

. . . DON'T ask to see the front.  What this guy has to tell you isn't nice!

Are rude & obscene shirts really necessary?

Big Hat, No Cattle . . .

. . . or so I've been told.

The Last Sipper

An accidental odd camera angle resulted in some strange perspectives . . .

. . . are they a couple sharing intimate secrets or total strangers?
. . . is the hat sliding off because it's too big?
. . . exactly whose hand is that on his thigh?

Maybe Dan Brown can figure out this Urban Cowboy Myth.

The Weekly Tuck

It's become a favorite thing to check out as I walk by this long established pub.  I think of it as their "old fashioned" blog.  So, as long as they keep coming up with these . . . I will be dedicating one day each week to their creative efforts.

One day I may even venture inside . . . I may then have to call it the Weekly Nip & Tuck.

Sheena Easton Mystery Solved . . .

She didn't take the morning train . . . she's driving a truck these days.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JP4xXjW97ko