“I’m hairy high and low, don’t ask me why, don’t know.
It’s not for lack of bread, like the Grateful Dead “Hair” The Cowsills 1969
Welcome to Drivel Over Coffee. A blog that rambles through this thing called life, stopping here and there for reflection, enlightenment, storytelling, and joke telling. All the while my brain reverberates with the best music in the world – The ‘60’s and early 70’s. Yep, Lost in The Sixties.
Saturday Murphy and I were chillin’ watching the tube. Basketball, football and whatnot. Hawkeyes lose, what is new? Bored, we began to contemplate our navels, well I did at least. Couldn’t seem to find Murphy’s. My thoughts soon turn to the blog. What will it be? I started seven years ago I believe with a 16-ounce glass of creative juices having retired in 2009. I have been reduced to a 3-ounce paper cup now and am about to replace that with a sippy cup so that I don’t spill any of those valuable juices. Really can’t afford to waste any that are left you know.
Office hours have been restored to normal at Scooters. The barista’s there are much appreciative since the 8:00 to 9:00 hour on Sunday is slow for them. Felt really good. My large dark roast was ready, steamy hot the way I like it. My Drivel table in the corner clean and reserved. They know that I write the Drivel Over Coffee there and allow me some freedoms not normally extended to others. Like the aforementioned creative juices. At first, they really put up quite a fuss when I would bring in a drink bottle, but I would always purchase a coffee as well, so I got away with it. Now they see the sippy cup and get a sad look in their eye. I have a walking stick I use to keep my balance out in the open and I have duct taped a cup holder to it. In the cup holder I put the sippy cup. Works really well.
Last Wednesday I got a wild hair. I found out upon further review by my current wife, that it was an ingrown hair which explained everything. Wednesday was not a very good day. Like I said, I thought I had a wild hair, so I decided to go horseback riding. Don’t get me wrong, I am not a big horse type of guy, but I did grow up on a farm. I was feeling a little nostalgic you know. It was such a gorgeous day. It was a stellar thought…. I got on the horse and started out everything was fine, like riding a bike…, but then we went a little faster; before I knew it, we were in a dead run. At this point, something spooked my horse and she made a sudden jerk and reared up, and I couldn’t hold on. Oh boy, I’m in deep dodo now. I fell off, but my foot got caught in the stirrup. She kept bucking and running, and was dragging me and wouldn’t stop. Thump, Thump, Thump, I go…. this is beyond deep deep dodo more little the governments deep state. Thank goodness, the manager of the grocery store came out and unplugged the machine! But then he had the nerve to take the rest of my quarters, so I wouldn’t attempt to drive the Batmobile. What a kill joy! If you read what I wrote, copy and paste for someone else to smile about and thank God for what health we have! I have taken this from a friend of mine Ms. Jo and adapted it for my blog.
Oh no, what do I do now, my sippy cup is dry. Ahhhhhh!
The Woes of Turning 71
Men, you have surely noticed, that by your 50s you don’t actually lose hair. It just begins to relocate. It may leave our head, but it ends up on our neck, back, knuckles, toes, and inside our ears and nose. I’m proud to say that at 71, I still have a full head of hair. Let me put that a different way. I still have hair all over my head. It just isn’t very thick. But dear Lord, what happened to the hair on my legs? I’ll tell you what happened…it moved to my eyebrows.
When I was 30, I didn’t really understand the expression “wild hair” evidently. I mean I thought I knew. It was that uncontrollable feeling you got, to do something totally out of character. Just something really off the wall. But now 40 years later, I really know. Wild hairs sprout in unexpected places and always point in the wrong direction. Every time my current wife, Sue, cuts my hair, I hear her say, “Whoa…let me get those eyebrows. Wow.”
And the new hairs are coarse. When her clippers make contact with them it sounds like a 5-inch tree trunk going through a 3-inch wood-chipper. It takes a good 12 minutes to finish the job because the blades get dull and she has to break out the Black & Decker construction-grade clippers with the titanium blades.
I remember many times sitting in church listening to the sermon drowning on. I would usually get an elbow in my side prompting me to wake up. I would also get a poke from one of the two daughters who were chuckling at the elderly gentleman seated in front of us with a of bush hairs growing in all directions from his ears. Every time they made pinky swear that my ears would never, ever get that way. To this day, I obsessively, compulsively check for ears hairs daily.
Young folks might think these minor physiological changes are inconsequential. They’re not. Having eyebrows like Leonid Brezhnev can be quite dangerous. I nearly lost an eye one time when Max the Pug swiped at one of my eyebrow hairs because he thought it was a piece of a treat.
I was telling a friend of mine the story above. She related a story about her dog. She found out her dog could hardly hear so she took it to the veterinarian. He found that the problem was hair in its ears. He cleaned both ears and the dog could hear fine. The vet then proceeded to tell the lady that if she wanted to keep this from reoccurring she should go to the store and get some “Nair” hair remover and rub it in the dog’s ears once a month. The lady goes to the drug store and gets some “Nair” hair remover.
At the register, the druggist tells her, “If you’re going to use this under your arms don’t use deodorant for a few days.” My neighbor says: “I’m not using it under my arms.” The druggist says: “If you’re using it on your legs don’t shave for a couple of days.” She says: “I’m not using it on my legs either, if you must know, I’m using it on my Schnauzer.” The druggist says: “Stay off your bicycle for a week.”
…. And well my friends, allowing me into your day is always an honor. If I can make at least one-person smile, laugh till they leak, or maybe spit out a drink, my day was not wasted. Until we meet again -TA!”
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