Every time I mention Bugler’s Holiday, people ask me about it. So here it is in all its fabulousness …
The US Coast Guard Band:
One guy! Playing all three parts!
I wish they would have done this just with the vocals. It’s terrific until they start playing. But it’s a good illustration of how difficult the piece is to play:
You likey? I likey. Which was your fave version?
…. even old age!
My mom’s husband turns 80 today — a true milestone. So in his honor … and because if we didn’t laugh, we’d cry … enjoy some old age humor. Here’s to 80 more, Trevor!
*****
Just before the funeral services, the undertaker came up to the very elderly widow and asked, “How old was your husband?”
“98,” she replied. “Two years older than me.”
“So you’re 96,” the undertaker commented.
She responded, ‘Hardly worth going home, eh?”
****
A reporter interviewed a 104-year-old woman. “And what do you think is the best thing about being 104?”
“No peer pressure.”
****
The nice thing about being senile is you can hide your own Easter eggs.
****
I’ve sure gotten old! I’ve had two bypass surgeries, a hip replacement, new knees, fought prostate cancer and diabetes. I’m half blind, can’t hear anything quieter than a jet engine, I take 40 different medications that make me dizzy, winded, and subject to blackouts. I have bouts with dementia and poor circulation – hardly feel my hands and feet anymore. Can’t remember if I’m 85 or 92. I’ve lost all my friends. But, thank God, I still have my driver’s license.
****
I feel like my body has gotten totally out of shape, so I got my doctor’s permission to join a fitness club and start exercising. I decided to take an aerobics class for seniors. I bent, twisted, gyrated, jumped up and down, and perspired for an hour. But, by the time I got my leotards on, the class was over.
****
My memory’s not as sharp as it used to be. Also, my memory’s not as sharp as it used to be.
****
Know how to prevent sagging? Just eat till the wrinkles fill out.
****
It’s scary when you start making the same noises as your coffee maker.
****
THE SENILITY PRAYER
Grant me the senility to forget the people I never liked anyway, the good fortune to run into the ones I do, and the eyesight to tell the difference.
Got any old age funnies?
I totally rejiggered this from an email I got (thanks, Mary!), but it’s perfect for BeckyLand — funny, and absolutely true … like this … and this … and this … and this.
That was a fun trip down Bloggory Lane!
Anyway … next time I go to the hospital I’m taking this Living Will with me. In triplicate.
I, State Your Name, being of sound mind and body, do not wish to be kept alive indefinitely by artificial means.
Under no circumstances should my fate be put in the hands of pinhead politicians who couldn’t pass ninth grade biology if their lives depended on it, or greedy lawyers and doctors interested in running up the bills.
If a reasonable amount of time passes, say, ten minutes or so, and I fail to ask for at least one of the following …
Guinness
Chocolate
Chinese food
Sex
Mimosa
Cold Beer
Chocolate
Fried chicken
Chinese food
Sex
My favorite book, A Girl Named Zippy by Haven Kimmel
Chocolate cake
Bacon cheeseburger with fries
Guinness
Pizza
Sex
Any of my iTunes music, but especially Bugler’s Holiday
Ice cream
Guinness
Guinness
Guinness
Sex
Guinness
… it should be presumed I’ll never get better. At least I won’t be any fun anymore and that’s just as bad. When such a determination is reached, I hereby instruct my appointed person and attending physicians to pull the plug, reel in the tubes, let the fat lady sing, and call it a day!
You’re all witnesses to my final wishes. And, if you can read between the lines, some of my current ones.
What would be on your list?
I was reading the March 2009 edition of Smithsonian Magazine, in particular an article about American diplomat Harry Bingham who aided Jewish refugees in France during World War II. A fascinating article. But what caught my attention was this photo of a telegram.
I am baffled as to what those little pencil slash marks are after most of the words. Can anyone tell me? Nothing in the article mentions it. Probably because I’m the only person in the world this curious about the minutiae of life.
And, oh, how I love minutiae! You can’t just toss a photo into my magazines without me studying Every. Single. Aspect.
So, what about it, O Smart People of BeckyLand? What are them there marks for?!
I got this notice from my daughter’s college. I hope they’ve also posted it to the area of the Oregon Department of Justice website where students visit the most.
I know I was supposed to pay heed to their warning and maybe they even expected me to fly into a tizzy. But you know what I did?
Yep. Laughed.
If I got a call in the middle of the night telling me that I had to send money to my spring-break-addled offspring, here’s how that conversation would go:
Scammer: I’m sorry to inform you your son and/or daughter has been in an accident and/or jailed and needs money right away.
Me: Do you freakin know what TIME it is?!
Scammer: Yes, I’m sorry, but this is of the utmost urgency.
Me: “Utmost”?? Who are you? None of my kids would hang out with anyone who says “utmost.” Especially during spring break.
Scammer: Well, I … uh … I’m a Nigerian prince … oh, sorry, wrong script. It’s extremely urgent you send your son and/or daughter money—
Me: My kid went someplace fun for spring break and I’M the one who has to send money?! I don’t THINK so.
Scammer: But he and/or she was hurt and/or jailed!
Me: Which one?
Scammer: Um … hurt.
Me: He and/or she has insurance.
Scammer: Okay, then, he and/or she was jailed.
Me: He and/or she probably deserved it.
Scammer: Don’t you even care about your son and/or daughter?
Me: Of course I care about him and/or her. But he and/or she has gotta grow up sometime. I ain’t no ATM!
Scammer: whimper, whimper.
Me: Fine, ya big baby. Have them call their Uncle Neal. That’s why he’s on their speed dial.
What’s your favorite scam?
My doorbell rang 837 times yesterday — yes, 837 — so I’m going to put out a “No Soliciting” sign. I had one several years ago, but I should have put out a dictionary to go along with it. When I’d answer the door to a … what? Yes, a solicitor … and point to my simple two-word sign, making that face I reserve for stupid people and dogs peeing in my yard, they’d inevitably say, “I’m not soliciting. I’m …” and then they’d insert a word from the list below.
So, this is what I’m going to post near my doorbell.
Do NOT ring this doorbell if you are:
Selling
Explaining
Preaching
Teaching
Showing
Asking
Giving
Begging
Offering
Marketing
Peddling
Trading
Dealing
Wholesaling
Sermonizing
Indoctrinating
Educating
Instructing
Demonstrating
Lecturing
Pontificating
Evangelizing
Ministering
Soapboxing
or Bleeding. I just got new carpet.
If, however, I already know your name and you’re delivering a surprise culinary treat or mis-delivered mail or want to otherwise brighten my day, then by all means …lean on that doorbell!
Of course, if they’re really stupid, they won’t know most of those words. The downside is that someday I just may want Girl Scout cookies or my house number painted on the curb or to send an inner-city youth to Disneyland. It’s a cunundrum.
But one I’m willing to figure out without their help.
Do you get people ringing your doorbell when you don’t want them to? Are you nicer about it than I am? Or do you hate them with the white-hot intensity of ten thousand suns?
… pay no attention to the girl behind the curtain trying to fix her subscription crankiness …
Smithsonian Magazine explains the legend of the Pirate Queen Granuaile:
Born in 1530, the Pirate Queen Granuaile was raised in an Ireland where English law was usurping Gaelic sovereignty. She refused to submit to authority and raided merchant ships bound for Galway Bay. According to legend, she fought off English troops besieging her stronghold by melting the roof and pouring molten lead on her attackers. The stories of her resistance, spread by ballad singers for centuries, became a symbol for Irish nationalism. Irish-American folk singer Dan Milner adapted one such political broadside, “Granuaile,” for Smithsonian Folkways’ newly released “Irish Pirate Ballads and Other Songs of the Sea.”
Click on the Smithsonian Jukebox to hear Granuaile and The Ballad of Ó Bruadair / Out on the Ocean, two delightful Irish chanteys.
The songs repeat if you let them. While I listened I was puttering around and before I knew it, they had played half-a-dozen times.
Sigh.
I want to be a Pirate Queen and have a gorgeous Irish singer sing about me! I’d settle for one or the other, though.
Enjoy!
How ‘bout you …would you rather be a pirate or have songs sung about you?
You’d be surprised how many monkeys are named Becky. Or maybe you wouldn’t.
I was looking for video of the Rock Throwing Chimp in Sweden, but found this instead. Now I’m looking for the hidden camera in my backyard.
I am sorry for the outburst but really, those kids MUST get off of my lawn!
Which zoo animal should be named after you?
I'm Just Sayin
