<p>Go thru reading most of stuff on Hilliary and then got on the thread on grade skipping. Disgusted and feel very old. </p>
<p>Can't drink too much anymore. Type II diabetic. But I got a clip.</p>
<p>Greybeard keeps his head on the table, but manages to open one blood-shot eye. (When did this become one of those revolving bars, he wonders?) Picking up a conversational line that had petered out hours before, he shouts, "I disagree with your view of the 'Too Fat Polka,' but will defend to the death your right to spout patent nonsense about it."</p>
<p>The question from Tara'sMom stared at him like a patient etherized upon a table by an unlicensed anaesthesiologist. "1978 ... it was ... a very good year ... it was..." His audition for the midnight choir was interrupted by the strains of a better singer, and a better drunk, wafting from the juke box: "And as you turned and walked away, as the door behind you closes, the only thing I know to say, 'It's been a good year for the roses.'"</p>
<p>Hey wait! I got the disreputable bootlegger! Joseph Kennedy! Will he do? Oh right...we're eighty years too late.</p>
<p>One night late, late enough almost to be morning, Sinner's Alley is granted a reprieve. Or perhaps an accompaniment to our existential middle-aged despair. Elvis Costello stumbles in the door with his wife, Diana Krall. He is carrying a guitar. They sit in the corner booth and order a pint, not noticing somehow that we are located in a small steeltown in Pennsylvania or Ohio. He takes our his guitar and begins to sing.</p>
<p>I can hardly bear the sight of lipstick on the cigarettes there in the ashtray
Lyin cold the way you left em, but at least your lips caressed them while
You packed
Or the lip-print on a half-filled cup of coffee that you poured and didnt drink
But at least you thought you wanted it, thats so much more than I can say
For me</p>
<p>What a good year for the roses
Many blooms still linger there
The lawn could stand another mowin
Funny I dont even care
As you turn to walk away
As the door behind you closes
The only thing I have to say
Its been a good year for the roses</p>
<p>After three full years of marriage, its the first time that you havent
Made the bed
I guess the reason were not talkin, theres so little left to say we
Havent said
While a million thoughts go racin through my mind, I find I havent said a word</p>
<br>
<p>from the bedroom the familiar sound of a babys cryin goes unheard</p>
<br>
<p>What a good year for the roses
Many blooms still linger there
The lawn could stand another mowin
Funny I dont even care
As you turn to walk away
As the door behind you closes
The only thing I have to say
Its been a good year for the roses</p>
<p>Our hearts stop beating. We recognize ourselves briefly, blearily. But before we can make anything of this rare moment of insight, they are gone. We return to our irreproachable pastimes. Seediness is where you find it.</p>
<p>Alumother: Uncle! I give up on the quest for seediness!</p>
<p>Greybeard: Unfortuantly the lyrics for the Too Fat Polka have been confiscated by the PC Police. While they can't be erased from our memory, one must be careful when pronouncing or even debating them in public.</p>
<p>However, a worthy replacement is the famous polka "In Heaven there is No Beer", whose lyrics (faithfully translated from the original) transcend nearly all boundaries, and are the most concise and pithy of all polka lyrcs, combining theology with existential philosophy.</p>
<p>In a single verse, the song captures</p>
<pre><code>- whether there is an afterlife
- and if there is, what are its consequences
- as well as an essential aspect of this life
- and a serious observation about the nature of humanity
</code></pre>
<p>It also is gender-neutral, applicable to persons of all races, colors and (almost all) creeds or religions, persons of all ethnic and national origins, and those of all sexual orientations (or none). </p>
<p>"In heaven there is no beer (no beer!)
That's why we drink it here
And when we are gone from here
Our friends will be drinking all our beer!"</p>
<p>For my jukebox selection...hmmm...let's see....</p>
<p>Well, I came out of the music "closet" to my family ages ago but here goes again...I like, no, I love disco music....there I said it. Disco and dance music are the music of my youth. Nothing gets a party going like "Brick House" by the Commodores. So, I've put in my quarter to play "Brick House" while I think about the questions posed earlier (best advice from and to).</p>
<p>Let's see best advice given by my dad: drive defensively, the fools get on the road as soon as you do.
Best advice I've given: accept responsibility for your own behavior</p>
<p>That reminds me...I need to mow the lawn. I mean, the real lawn, the grassy stuff that sits in front of my house and collects weeds and gophers (otherwise known as, The Land That Time Forgot). </p>
<p>Yes, it's a thing of glory. Motorists often slow down to admire our patch of California poppies and mutant, hairy dandelions. The plastic, pink flamingos with wire legs and the lawn gnome add a special je ne sais quoi. Our neighbor's addition of a porta-potty really clinches (eek!) it. The epic saga of how long it is taking them to finish their garage conversion is right up there with Homer's Odyssey. I wonder if Odysseus would have taken on my lawn.</p>
<p>I shall return from the yard. And, when I do, I shall have a tall glass of Chai sun tea with a slice of orange and a lot of ice. No Chai sun tea? Okay, make it Lipton's powder and tap water. Sluggs aren't picky. :)</p>
<p>Doddsmom - you're my kinda gal - we love the same song (Brick House) and you answered my questions posed about thirty posts ago...</p>
<p>^^^^^^
I think we're succeeding at getting seedy now.</p>
<p>My jukebox selection for a seedy bar: Stray Cat Blues, by the Rolling Stones.</p>
<p>jmmom - I'm doin' my best here....</p>
<p>Seedy, but even with the fishermen we still need some disreputables.</p>
<p>sluggbugg - I actually got a ticket from the city in which I live for my front lawn - or lack thereof - 10 years ago. The ticket cited us for, and I quote, "weeds of a noxious or downy habit."</p>
<p>
[Quote]
My jukebox selection for a seedy bar: Stray Cat Blues, by the Rolling Stones
[/Quote]
</p>
<p>Now you're talkin'. Let's follow it up with a little Janis "Cry Baby"</p>
<p>The first time I danced with my wife, it was to Brickhouse. </p>
<p>She mighty mighty, too, I tell you, regardless of whether or not she's lettin' it all hang out.</p>
<p>"Cry Baby" is my favorite Janis song.</p>
<p>And "Im Himmel Es Gibt Kein Bier" is my second favorite polka.</p>
<p>But this bar is starting to sound like my vision of Heaven, and if there's no beer there, it's because we drank the place dry.</p>
<p>
I really need to get out more.</p>
<p>But that reminds me of a truly classic bar moment in my misspent youngish adulthood which lasted well into my ahem thirties. A very good older friend of mine was asked the same question or thereabouts, and his response was-"Darling, if I did go to bed with two women , one of you would be unsatisfied, and the other would be untouched". I fell off my stool I was laughing so hard.</p>
<p>So much chit chat going on in this site. Glad they made a parents cafe.</p>
<p>bhg, Yes, I agree. Tender ears and all that. I have been horribly offended by several of my own posts and have thought seriously about reporting myself. But then every other thread I read, someone's acting all prissy and "holier than thou" or "you may have an opinion but it sucks", so this grungy old bar feels loads safer. People really need to learn to disagree without being disagreeable. Jiminy.</p>
<p>Try to keep it clean! There are young eyes (that are not hidden behind bifocals) reading these posts! Especially crash, please pretend that you are an AK for the sake of us young'ns (sp?) who are reading this thread! ;)</p>
<p>I've been out of pocket for awhile - Curmudgeon, how is daughter doing? Beginning to feel better?</p>