Good for What Ails You...?

Flip a TV channel and there will undoubtedly
be a drug commercial aimed at treating
some ailment--from allergies and cholesterol,
to smoking cures.

Watching them is enough to cause depression.
If you have trouble sleeping, there’s a drug
which allows blissful sleep--but be careful--
the side affects may put you on Cloud 9:
hives; difficulty breathing; swelling of your
face, lips, tongue, or throat.

The warnings also include that one should not
drive or pilot an airplane while taking the drug.
No kidding...

Erectile dysfunction can be alleviated
with a drug, but if it works too well,
see your doctor. How does a fella do that?
Wear a dress?

Another drug for kicking the nicotine
habit shows a cheery-faced woman who
says she didn’t think she could ever quit the habit.

Side effects of the 'marvelous' drug may include:
thoughts of suicide, or the attempts thereof;
depression, paranoia, hallucinations, confusion, mania,
and dangerous impulses.
Good grief! Sounds like a Steven King novel…

I’m lucky to have a drug-free medicine cabinet.
Except for the occasional aspirin--now where
did I put that bottle?
There’s probably a drug for that…

Snaking Around...

“Hey, Tom! Looks like we need to replace
the weather stripping--wha-at is that?" I said
as I looked closer at the now open sliding door.

I took the end of the flattened black strip
and pulled it out from under the door--
a long, black, slightly crumpled indigo snake.
Just the thing to kick start my early morning,
with a foggy head, before my coffee.

I quivered as I went outside, depositing the
smelly snake in the bushes.
I was also thinking of the many times we
leave the doors open to get some early morning
cool air into our warm house.
What are we inviting in that we don’t know about?

When we first moved into our home, I
found two scorpions in our bedroom.
It’s easy for skinny creatures to creep onto
the lanai, with the open grooves in the pool
decking leading out from the pool cage enclosure.

I’ve thought of plugging up the outside channels
to keep snakes and wolf spiders from creeping
onto the decking--nothing like seeing a questionable
snake, sunning itself by the pool--or a huge
furry spider tucked under the pool coping.

I have some cleaning to do in the house.
What’s lurking in the corners?

Sacked...

Watching football all day on Sunday is enough to
drive a sane wife nuts. Don't get me wrong--
football can be exciting--with all those
'tight ends' running around...

I was a big 49er fan during the Joe Montana
days: Joe and Clark, Craig, Paris, Rice, and Lott
kept the excitement in high gear.
The Niners final game score often hit the stratosphere.
They inspired a big love for the game.

We now watch the Patriots, rooting for
Tom Brady--since Jen went to high school with Tom,
and shared a class or two.

Yes, there’s little movement coming from
the men during Sunday football. Maybe a grunt or two…
or an outburst in response to a stupid play.


After several hours of channel-flipping-between
games, the remote is barely juiced by the time
I want to use it to turn on Desperate Housewives.
Shoot! D.S. isn't on.

Instead, I sit plugged into my earphones and
portable dvd player, watching a couple of Laverne
and Shirley episodes.
A few outbursts of my own drew glances from the guys,
wondering what I was laughing at.

When football season comes to a screeching halt,
what are our men going to do on Sundays?
Rosie Greer took up needlepoint.
Hmmm…

Missing: One Duck...

Cruiser, our resident duck,
has ducked out. MIA--hopefully, not
DOA for someone’s Thanksgiving feast.

Tom swears he saw the errant, feathered,
waddled duck last week perched high upon
a distant neighbor’s roof .
If so, Cruiser’s got the right idea about
staying off the meat platter…

Thinking back to the last time I saw
ducky, I was crouched down to his level--
we were nearly beak to nose.

He stared at me, with his beak slightly
cracked open. Paul held Daisy, our lovebird,
behind the lanai pool screen.
Daisy and Cruiser had became fast friends
over the last few months.

I stood up and handed Cruiser a piece
of whole grain bread--that he snatched too
enthusiastically, along with my finger.

“Ouch,” I yelped, shaking my reddened
finger tip at Cruiser.
Paul was laughing, and Daisy was chirping
her high-pitched screechy chirp.

Yes, that may have been the last straw
for Cruiser.
My finger-wagging that day may have
quacked him out, and sent him along
on his butt-waddling way.

Come back, you straggly, head-tweaky
ol’ duck…we miss you!

What's On Tonight?

We’ve had digital cable for a few months now.
There must be 200 channels, so why is it so
hard to find something to watch?

Some really good movies are televised
overnight and during the early morning hours.
Tom always says "Why can’t they show this
program in the evening?"
And how many times is The Shawshank Redemption
and Arachnophobia going to be shown?

Tom likes The Military Channel when military
aircraft is profiled. Otherwise, it seems like
a recycled History Channel.

Just as we get hooked on a newly discovered
series, Destination Truth, the series is
running the season finale .
We’re watching the older D.S. shows On Demand;
makes one think about the eyes caught glowing
yellow-red in our woods one night…

Ghost Hunters is creepy fun, especially when
there's actually something peculiar and eerie caught
on film or audio. The TAPS team would have
had a field day in our California home…

Spooks and hairy creatures aside,
Channel surfing through the Guide is what we all do.
It doesn’t take Paul long to settle on UFC.
We’ve gone from seeing Anthony Zimmern
drinking goat’s blood with Masai, to trailing blood
on Randy Couture.
I keep a good Chocoholic mystery by Jo Anna Carl
on my lap.

I’ve been watching some classic and very funny
Netflix Laverne and Shirley; also the quirky series,
Arrested Development and Seinfeld on Jetflicks.com
on my phone.
Give me a good laugh, any time…

Too Hot To Handle...

My friend, “Mark” recently went through
some of his son’s belongings left behind
when he moved out of state.
Mark needed some advice on shipping box sizes.

There were two large duffel bags filled
with bulky items and a few grade F porno
flicks stuffed inside of a brown paper bag.
The discovery didn’t surprise Mark.

His son had a couple of roommates at the
time and Mark figured these movies
belonged to them. I’ve never seen or
wanted to view a pornographic movie.

When Tom and I went to Copenhagen
years ago, we went to a very "popular"
section of the city, Vesterbro.

Along the Istergade were buildings with
huge windows illuminated with bright
colored lighting. Looming above the street,
seductive women posed in the colorful windows.

A movie theater announced the showing of
Emmanuelle. A number of American tourists
were streaming into the theater.
In no way was I going to that movie.
Tom thought it would be a lark to see a
soft porno flick in Copenhagen.
Nah-uhh, no way Jose...

We continued to walk the street of ill-repute,
ogling, with eyes-popped.
Store windows displayed devices which
looked as though they belonged to the French
Inquisition, or Caligula’s House of Joy.
Some of the stuff was so wild, I was imagining
the instruction manual must be enormous….

I eventually found a huge box for Mark
and all his son's stuff. Mark decided to
keep some of the items of clothing after all.
The shipping would be too costly.
As for the brown paper bag, it was no where in sight…

Coffee, Tea, Or...

Naples hosted its first International Film Festival.
I was sitting in Books-A-Million at Mercato
last Thursday when a a group of tall and
exceptionally handsome Italian men walked
into the café for coffees.

The third thing I noticed about them were
their shoes: shiny, black and barely out of
Reptile Junction Shoe Emporium.

The well-dressed men slithered past me,
slim and model-like--no bulging gym muscles
creeping out from their designer shirts.

The air smelled wonderfully fragrant.
I haven’t smelled anything that knee-melting
and sweat-inducing in a long time.
One gorgeous man looked over at me and smiled
broadly, his teeth sparkling snow-blinding white.

Wouldn’t it be cool if they were producers or
directors and wanted me in a film I daydreamed,
missing the sip of my tea, and dribbling tea droplets
down my Marshall’s top.

I dabbed and snapped back to reality as the group
of men flowed past me one more time, speaking
Italian. Snow White smiled, and I smiled back,
flashing my Crest Whitestrips teeth.

Tom picked me up a few minutes later.
As I slid into the car, a salty-sweat scent filled my nose.
That’s my guy…

I know what I’m getting Tom: one of those
scented tree hangers for the car.
I wonder if they come in Calvin or Ralph Lauren scents?
Ahhh.

Don't Mall Me!

It’s that time of year again when
craziness descends in the form of
two-legged, pushing and shoving
humanoids, who have just squeezed
into the last known mall parking
space on the face of the earth.

Beam me up! Now, please, before
the multitude of swarming, caffeinated
creatures, embodied with special sale
radar and nudging elbows suck me into
their hive of madness.

Scene 1:

Buy 1 and get 1 at 110% off!! Huh…?
Swarm, buzz…

Scene 2:

The head-wrapped kiosk man with
Omar Sharif eyes is demonstrating
an amazing flying toy, acrobatically
diving and swooping.
Omar zeroes in on me since I foolishly
looked over at him.

“No, no thanks,“ I reply.
He’s swooping the toy back and forth.
“Okay, only if it can fly me up
and away from here!”
“You crazy lady, go away--no come back.”
Another Seinfeld moment.
My Kodak moments are getting
slimmer and slimmer...

Scene 3:

I’m trying to find a wedge of space
to see what’s on a sale rack of clothes.
Ladies with vulture sized handbags
are flinging and shoving coat hangers
of polyester and silk…
I’m suddenly thinking of a nice hot cup
of vanilla caramel tea within the
comfort of my four walls.

Scene 4:

I slink and dodge the invading
masses of female flesh navigating
down the aisles, some of whom are
wearing athletic shoes;others are perched
precariously in stilettos.
I find the exit door, and finally, my car.

Scene 5:

Home never looked so good as I seat
myself at the computer, sipping my tea.
Online shopping is great: I find some used,
almost new books on Amazon for a penny.

I continue to weave my way through
the World Wide Web, until I hit the
Black Widow of Cyberspace:
the servers are down--please try again later.

Bah-humbug…

Ben Casey, Where Are You?

Medical dramas give a false impression of doctors.
I’ve never had a doctor that even closely
resembled the handsome hunks in the TV series.

Jen worked in a local hospital where there
was one particular doctor that every female
office worker swooned over, keeping his
picture planted on their desks.
His profile was used in the hospital’s
advertising. That man was born under a blanket
of lucky stars, and then some…

My doctor resembles a cross between Don Knotts
and Boris Karloff. Just once, I wish the doctor
would match up with the cute name my fingers
had so carefully picked out in the Yellow Pages.

My present doctor also reminds me of an old
Italian nun I had in the eighth grade.
When I first saw Sr. Christine, I was scared.
She had dark searing eyes with a stone-like face.

Yes, just once let me pick out a doctor that
will curl the edges of my paper gown--and my toes--
and whose needle won’t look like a harpoon…

No Awake Zone...

I hate standard time.
The morning light jars me awake
around 5:30, which might be okay
if I was 12 and had a paper route …

So, trying to fall asleep again is like
trying to teach an alligator to roll over.
The birds are awake early, chirping
full trottle, and the pool pump next door
is droning a few feet from our bedroom window.

Give me back my enjoyable evening
light, when I could sit at the dining
room table during dinner and look out
at the woods, illuminated with the
glowing colors of the setting sun:
Trees fringed with lavender and gold...

Now, while I cook dinner, the windows
are dark, and my eyes are getting droopy.
It feels like 10:00.
Looking ahead to six months of progressing
darkness puts me in hibernation mode… zzzz

Gobble This!

The holidays are fast upon us, and with
that, all the planning--like what should
I fix this Thanksgiving and Christmas?

I have the holiday cooking magazines
filled with pages of gorgeous tables laden
with delicious food.

I always have the best intentions of
baking some of the mouth-watering
confections, or serving something
other than turkey, like a Leg of Lamb,
which is often hard to find in my market.

I could probably get away with
Leg of Bunny or Roasted Armadillo--easy
to find around our neck of the woods.

Speaking of neck, Cruiser hasn’t waddled
into our yard for almost 3 weeks.
Maybe I ruffled its feathers by lessening
its tortilla chip or bread handouts…

Sure miss the fat and feathered old guy--or gal.
Hmm, I wonder…