Drivel Over Coffee 278 9/15/2015

“I’m an idealist. I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m on my way.”Carl Sandberg


…And the top of the morning to you all in Drivel land. Another fine Tuesday. Did you enjoy this weekend full of football? I took most of in as my fantasy football league got started on Sunday. It really doesn’t amount to much for me. We have eight teams and I am usually in tenth place. Not as sharp as I once was. Today it is officially “Make A Hat” day. Don’t let this slip by. This is a very good activity to do with your spouse or significant other.


This week marks Murphy’s one year birthday. He will be having a party on Friday at doggie day care. He is already getting excited. I was talking about him with some friends over the weekend. One of them asked if I had him spoiled yet. My response was, “Yes, he has been spoiled greatly.” Along with that is his training. He has trained us to respond to all of his commands. Things like more treats, more water, time for supper, play with me, and so forth.

Last week the Old Farts Coffee Klatch meet once again at Jimmy’s Grill & Bait Shop. We have more or less settled on Jimmy’s. It is a rather casual place, he washes the coffee cups at least weekly, sweeps the floor as needed (mostly if the worm bucket spills), and the coffee is strong but doesn’t eat metal. The deciding factor probably is that Jimmy accepts Billy Bob without question. Other establishments tend to dislike having Billy Bob in their establishments. Billy Bob isn’t, how shall we say, the “Mr. Clean” impersonator. That really is more information than you needed. Sorry about that.

Anyhow, we decided to try having a short reading at each meeting, sort of like a devotional message but it can be anything the reader chooses. We all thought it was a good idea but none of us were prepared except, yep, Billy Bob. Out of a pocket in the front of his bib overalls he produces a small book. He states he carries it with him all the time and reads from it several times a day. The book, “Thoughts From The Commode…” uses the byline – Inspiring and moving thoughts from the bathroom. We decided to have Billy Bob read the first section and discuss it but most of us we a bit “cautious” about this book written by Michael W. Domis.

Highlights in Potty History. A quick view of pottying through the ages: Archeologists have found evidence of sitting-type toilets in Egypt dating back some 3,000 years. The Chinese found the oldest working indoor toilet in their country to be 2,000 years old. It belonged to a king of the Western Han Dynasty. The toilet came complete with running water, a stone seat, and a comfortable armrest. About the same time the Romans had a type of indoor toilet that consisted of a hole in the floor above a sluiceway containing running water. India claims to have found the oldest indoor toilet, dating back 4,500 years. Each house in the village of Lothal had a toilet with running water connected to a pipe which drained the effluent from the house. These advances fell out of use, however, and by 500 CE most people simply went wherever the urge struck them. It wasn’t uncommon for people to urinate or defecate in the street in full view of everyone. End of section one.

Looking at each other, we experienced an awkward silence lasting what seemed like 5 minutes or more. Finally, Billy Bob pipes up, “What if we still did that today? I mean, shoot, I have to go right now. Would you guys put up with that?” Whew, in unison “NO WAY” we responded. There was some polite chat after that expressing surprise that indoor toilets with running water existed that long ago. We debated whether an outhouse was and “indoor” toilet or not. I was one that thought it technically was indoor. It was enclosed by 4 walls and a roof. Nothing said it had to be attached to a residence. We ended with people relating their experiences with outhouses back in the day. Most were not worthy of repeating here.

A Group of Americans were traveling by tour bus through Switzerland. As they stopped at a cheese farm, a young Swiss lass led them through the process of cheese making, explaining that goat’s milk was used. She showed the group a lovely hillside where many goats were grazing.

‘These,’ she explained, ‘are the older goats put out to pasture when they no longer produce.’ She then asked, ‘What do you do in America with your old goats?’

A spry old gentleman answered, ‘They send us on bus tours!’

Had an unfortunate mishap last week. I was standing at the bar one night, minding my own business. This fat ugly chick came up behind me, grabbed my ass and said, “You’re kind of cute, you gotta a phone number?” I said, “Yea, you gotta pen?” She said “Yea”, I got a pen”. I said, “Well, you better get back in it before the farmer misses you”. Cost me 6 stitches.

I was thinking back to when I was an impressionable young lad of maybe 8 or 9 years of age a while ago. Remembering things that my folks told me. Like the rumble strips on the highway are for the blind drivers. Took me seven years to realize that was not true. My dad told me that oil spots on the street were little kids that got run over because they didn’t hold anyone’s hand while crossing the street. Or “When you lie, your ears turn red.” I covered my ears every time I lied. Still do. My grandmother told my mother that the left boob is for regular milk and the right is for chocolate milk, mom believed this until she was in high school and took sex ed. Never fooled me though. My mom told me that hills are where giants are buried. Thanks mom, that didn’t terrify me as a child. Lastly, when I was little, my dad told me that if I burped, farted and sneezed at the same time, I would turn inside-out. Ever happen to you?

A precious little girl walks into a PetSmart store and asks, in the sweetest little lisp, between two missing teeth, “Excuthe me, mithter, do you keep widdle wabbits?” As the shopkeeper’s heart melts, he gets down on his knees so that he’s on her level and asks, “Do you want a widdle white wabbit, or a thoft and fuwwy, bwack wabbit, or maybe one like dat cute widdle bwown wabbit over der?” She, in turn, blushes, rocks on her heels, puts her hands on her knees, leans forward and says, in a tiny quiet voice, “I don’t think my python weally gives a thyit.” With that, I am out of here for this week.

Stay well, “OLD FRIEND!” It’s Not What You Gather, But What You Scatter That Tells What Kind Of Life You Have Lived.

If I can make at least one person smile, or laugh till they leak, then my day was not wasted. Now, until we meet again. -TA!