Folks, it’s finally “Nectar of the Gods” season here on Damphewmore Acres. By that I mean that for awhile, I can eat ripened-on-the-vine tomatoes and freshly husked corn-on-the-cob every day. And, if I want to, I can throw in some new potatoes, too. Eating wise, it just don’t get much better than that.
However, the current spate of weather is altogether another think. Folks, it’s been sauna muggy outside for a week. When I say humid and muggy, I’m sayin’ it don’t take much to get me sweating.
For instance, I break into a sweat just by going to the effort to lick the roof of my mouth or my lips. Blinking my eyes causes me to reach for a sweat rag. Cutting my toenails makes my brow look like Niagara Falls, but, of course, it might not if I could easily bend over and reach my toes in cool weather. But those days are long gone.
Just thinking about doing work outside would drench my shirt, if I actually thought seriously about doing any work outside. Thankfully, I don’t! I’m retired. Work can wait for cooler weather. However, I notice the days are getting shorter, so winter’s coming! Something to think about while cussing hot weather.
My Missouri buddy, Willie Joe, sent me an e-mail containing a picture taken near Jacksonville, Fla., of a police officer, standing in front of his police cruiser, and he’s displaying a 170-pound Eastern Diamondback Rattlesnake that had been killed nearby. That’s not a typo — 170 pounds!
A close-up of the behemoth’s head shows it’s jaw between the fangs measures 4-inches. I know there’s a lot of fake stuff in the internet, but everything about the picture and story seems authentic. When I took a first look at the picture, I thought it wuz one of the Burmese Pythons gone wild in Florida. Actually, I hope it is a fake because I hate to think about ever meeting up with a rattlesnake that big. The little prairie rattlers here in the Flint Hills are big enuf for me.
Last Sunday, Nevah and I traveled to Gridley, Kan., for the 90th birthday celebration of our friend, Dunn Seanitol. It wuz a huge reception with his family and friends.
After a couple of hours shaking hands and greeting folks, Dunn finally got to cool off with a glass of iced water. I whispered in his ear that I’d bet he’d relax and cool off better if that glass of water wuz spiked with a jigger of good bourbon.
He grinned back and said, “LOL, Milo! Do you know what that means?”
I replied, “Sure, ‘Laughing Out Loud.’”
“Nope,” he came back. “It means ‘Low On Liquor.’”
Then we both laughed out loud.
Okay, the column topic got switched to booze and birthdays, so I might as well continue it with a funny story. Two old Wyoming cowboys were sharing a cold one in the local bar and the memories came flooding back.
One says to the other, “I’ll never forget the time I took my son out for his first drink. We went to a bar just like this one on his birthday and I bought him a frosty mug of high quality imported beer. Sadly, he didn’t like it, so I drank it, just to keep from wasting the money.
“Then I bought him a vodka tonic, but he didn’t like that either, so I drank it.
Finally, I thought he might like a drink of 100 proof bourbon? He didn’t. So I drank it. I thought maybe he’d acquire a taste for scotch. But he turned up his nose at it, so I drank it, too, just to keep from wasting the money, mind you.
“In desperation, I had him try a glass of the best California wine the place sold. He wouldn’t even smell it. What could I do but drink it?
“By that time, I realized my son just didn’t like any kind of booze and I could barely load his stroller in the pickup, but I finally did — but the local county mounty spied me and gave me a DUI before I could get out of the parking lot.”
From an Iowa friend comes an avalanche of words of wisdom.
I had amnesia once — maybe twice. All I ask is a chance to prove that money can’t make me happy. If the world were a logical place, men would be the ones who ride horses sidesaddle. What is a “free” gift? Aren’t all gifts free? They told me I was gullible and I believed them.
Teach a child to be polite and courteous in the home and, when he grows up, he’ll never be able to merge his car onto the freeway. Experience is the thing you have left when everything else is gone. One nice thing about egotists: they don’t talk about other people. I used to be indecisive. Now I’m not sure. How can there be self-help “groups”?
If swimming is so good for your figure, how do you explain whales?
Show me a man with both feet firmly on the ground, and I’ll show you a man who can’t get his pants off. I went to San Francisco. I found someone’s heart. Now what? Is it me — or do buffalo wings taste like chicken? My weight is perfect for my height — which varies.
If that’s the case, my height doesn’t vary enuf. Have a good ‘un.