This Week in Milford

March 28, 2020

Siriously?

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Four months’ setup for this. One of the lamest intros since “Oprah, Uma. Uma, Oprah.” Alexa is left with a deer-in-the-headlights look the likes of which we haven’t seen since Boo Radley had an unfortunate run-in with Del Bader and a pickup truck.

Although some sources say it’s legit, I have never heard anyone named Serena given the nickname “Siri.” In all the years I’ve followed tennis I’ve never heard it used on the greatest female player in recent times. I never heard called Samantha Stevens’ evil cousin called “Siri.” I never heard Sifl and Olly’s fantasy girl referred to as “Siri” either, but supposedly it’s of Scandinavian origin and that’s her mother’s given name. Okay, fine.

There are still a couple months left in most school years. Many of them will be completed via distance learning, which starts on Monday where I live. Another plot should be starting on Monday in the Thorpiverse as well. Newspaper syndicate lead times being what they are, it will probably not involve distance learning. Some elements of this plot may continue over into the spring. Chris and Alexa may still duke it out for valedictorian.  We may find out Siri’s parents are named Cortana and Mercedes.

Siri and Alexa have nice boots on. Maybe they’ll go ride horses together at the afterparty.

Chris gives this plot the finger. So do I.

March 26, 2020

She Wipes Her Face Of This Whole Affair.

Filed under: big arms, freak hands, hands in the air, Pointy Fingers — tdrewhardin @ 8:55 am

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We TWIMers are anticipating the onset of baseball/softball so that we can get jerked around like a rag doll for another 4 months replete with inchoate mini-plots and directions leading us to No-Man’s Land and we’re left holding the bag how to get OUT of No-Man’s Land. Do you take A-1-A? Yeah, Jimmy Buffett would have better success getting out of Florida than we would escaping from March. Remember that Saturday Night Live sketch where Frank Zappa gets broken down and he has to go to this house where these hippies are like zombies? “Night on Drug Mountain”? And anybody who knew Zappa knew, bizarre as his music was, he never touched a drug in his life. He was VERY politically active and many of his albums are imbued with political messages.

Well, you can imagine the scene.

“Fraaaaaannnnkkkk, so good to see yoouuuu. I got some of this weed fresh in the bowl,  maaaannnnnn.”

“No, thank you, I don’t do drugs. Do you have any jumper cables?”

“Heyyyyyyy, evvverrrrryyyybodyyyy, it’s Frank Zapppppppaaaa!!!!!! Here, Frank, tryyyy some of this LSDDDDDDDDD. It’ll take your minddddd off this plot. Gil will be a thinngggg of the passsssttttttttt.”

“Look, I don’t do drugs. Do you have a phone? I can call AAA and get my car towed. I have a credit card.”

 

And with Dan Akroyd in that ponytail, that confirmed the hilarity of the situation.

“Night on Mudlark Mountain.”

Kaz in a ponytail

“Here, Gillllllllll, I got some coke straight out of the ovvvvveeennnnnn. You ought to try sommmmmmeeeeee. You aren’t going anywhheeeerrreee in this ploootttttt, anyway.”

“Kaz, you know I don’t do drugs. Did you get that Geography Final grade for Chris? I have to have it on Dr. Pearl’s desk by Monday.”

“Oh, Gil, don’t be such a party poopperrrrrr. I have a nice toke under my typewriiiittterrrrrrr. I smoke it when the studentttssssss aren’t loookkkinnngggggg. Open your mind and smelllllllll the cofffffeeeeee, mannnnnnnnn.”

“No thank you, Ms. Rizk. I have a reputation to uphold. Did you get Chris’ AAA record? I understand he’s in arrears and I want to pay the balance before that goes to print in The Trumpet.”

“Heyyyyyyy, no harmmmmmmm, no foullllll. He may have landed on the practice fiiiiieeeelllllddddd but it’s ancient historyyyyyyy to meeeeeeee. And I’llllllll give it a decentttttttt burialllll if you’ll broaden your minnnnnnnddddddd, Gil. And I’ll go half on the towinnnngggggggg.”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Mudlark Girls Basketball Ends With 21-Gun Salute!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Mimi Thorp: ‘Scriptwriter told me he didn’t have any room in April for the Playdowns and my sermonizing on the softball diamond. I had to flip a coin.”

 

Okay, Mudlark Ladies, it’s time to get up and stretch. Yeah, I’m also gettin’ antsy for this thing to end. What the Academic Rat Race That Ended In Detente had to do with basketball is a free throw do-over because someone entered the lane too soon. Mimi needs to drill her players on proper footwork, maybe stick an anvil in their butts so they don’t lean over, um, er, EUREKA!!!!!!!!! THEY’RE STRETCHING BECAUSE THEY WON!!!!!!!!!!!! Sometimes it doesn’t always register. Like the Vegas gambling house that has no clocks because they want people to keep gambling by losing sense of time, the Mudlark gym has no scoreboard because Thorpiverse wants to keep dragging this along to fill up space until Spring sports and let us draw our own conclusions. Make us think this is a Ban Roll-On commercial.

 

WE WON WE WON

“Yup, we sure did. Have you checked your pits lately? I have some Sure in my locker.”

Raise your arms if you’re Surrrreeeeee

 

What a commercial. Team celebrations in Milford will never be the same.

 

If ya conk out yore bloodhound and all the ticks and fleas on yore bloodhound as a result of lack of usage of Mennen Speed Stick Spe-shull Formula Apple Cider Supreme for longer than this plot, ya might be a redneck.

 

And we won’t have to worry about the Mudlark gym getting COVID-19 thanks to the mosquito netting hanging from the basketball rim in the background. Mudlark girls can flash their B.O. knowing that protection comes in the niftiiest places. Shoot the winning shot at the buzzer and keep the flies away, now there’s a concept you can tell your grandkids. Yup, we won and trounced malaria. Works for me.

Too bad it didn’t get all the fire ants off of Alexa. Poor girl is still concerned about developing her game and now she has another problem to contend with. I’ll go get another towel. It might not help get you a starting spot on UConn’s team next year but you won’t have fire ants eating your corneas. We’ll get something out of the deal.

Better not get too close, Chris. Fire ants and Fake SAT exams don’t mix.

 

And it appears that Chris went to Mudlark Mountain and back, judging by P2. Better watch out, Alexa. No telling WHAT’S going to be at his party. If you’re expecting Lay’s Wavy Chips or Grippo’s Reduced Fat Bar-B-Chips or Diet Coke in 20 oz. bottles or Mudlar-K-Cola Watermelon Wonder in the same size, you might be disappointed.

“Here, Alexaaaaaaaaa, try some of this acid, mannnnnnnnnnn. You won’t have to practice being aggresivvvvvveeeee by knockinggggggg Dr. Pearlllllllll into her file cabinet. This tripppppppp willlllll send your opponent into the cheap seatttttttttsssssss. You’ll be Moses Malonnneeeeee, mannnnnnnn.”

“No thanks, I don’t do drugs. Where’s the Star-Kist tuna sandwiches? Chris said there’d be enough to feed the Valley Conference.”

 

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Milford Evangelical Camp Meeting Results In 15 Converts, 32 Rededications, and 10 Baptisms At Milford High Girls Gym!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Mimi Thorp: ‘And we won the game!!!!!! Can you Lady Mudlarks say HALLELUJAH!!!!!!!!!!'”

 

And it’s bad enough that this plot had to go to Mudlark Mountain and end things at a pot party but WE’RE STILL WAITING ON SPRING SPORTS!!!!!!!!!!!!! Don’t get me wrong, to each their own and I’ve always liked Clapton’s Slowhand album that includes the signature tune, Cocaine, but I’d understandably prefer to listen to it as good music, not be the ending to Hoosiers. Jimmy Chitwood ending the plot laced on LSD really wasn’t the fate of the gods. Bobby Plump in the Sky with Diamonds? 15-footer in Marmalade Skies? Try sticking that one on the Milan Water Tower next to “1954 Champs.”

 

“How many fingers am I holding up, Alexa?”

“5?”

“That’s how many bags of pretzels will be at my party. And that midget standing next to me that hit the winning lay-up? That’s how many bowls of quiche will be on the table.”

 

OH GOD NO Puh-llllleewaaaseee tell us we’re not opening up another can of worms with the possible intro of Chris’ girlfriend. We’ve already been through enough ethics-challenging without finding out what SHE’S all about. Or, judging by Alexa’s reaction in P3, there might be a possible thing for Chris. Folks, there are only 12 months in the year. Don’t cram plot development into a glass of Nestle’s Quik. Using a spoon to stir won’t help.

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend. That McCartney Moment didn’t mean anything? I had a fun time under the sheets at The Lake House.”

“I’m really sorry, Alexa. It was wonderful. Well, gotta go. I gotta pick her up before the Milford Zoo closes.”

Times like these I usually switch over to Buzz Sawyer. There’s no sports in that one either but he usually catches the crook by April. And there’s no mosquito nets on the basketball backboard in his driveway.

But as long as Chris has Fritos and Con Queso dip, I might have some room on my schedule.

 

“Here, Alexa, I got some weed, mannnnnnnn. Freshly grown on some farm in New Mexicooooooooo. So good, they smuggled some across the borderrrrrrrrrrrr.”

“No, thanks. Hey, Chris, don’t put away that Amish potato salad in the fridge just yet.”

 

Today’s Women’s History Month entry is Nancy Kassebaum. She was a very powerful Senator from Kansas for 18 years, able to enact legislation that made a difference from improving affordable health care to removing Apartheid in South Africa. Her father, Alf Landon, a man who lived to 100, was a famous presidential candidate in 1936, so she was no stranger to politics. In fact, she became the 2nd woman to win a Senate seat without her husband first occupying that seat. She has always displayed good judgment and has voted middle of the road on several issues, despite coming from a heavily Republican state (her own party affiliation, BTW) such as her native Kansas. Please join me in saluting a person who has displayed quality leadership when it counted and made this nation that much stronger through her well-balanced style.

 

“We’ll return to The Olde Tyme Gospel Hour at the Milford Girls Gym after these messages. You’re watching WDIG-TV. Don’t go away.”

 

“Amen, Sister Mimi. That was a great homily about The Sermon on the Mount. Probably the key to the game. And we rallied from 14 points down in the 4th quarter. Uncle Mo was on our side. Blessed are the meek.

And what better way of celebrating The Prodigal Son returning home to get the key rebound than to have a clearance sale. The timing couldn’t be better.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp on behalf of Milford Beverage Warehouse and with the COVID-19 epidemic keeping our customers from coming to El Dorado, that’s even more of a reason to clear ’em out and I don’t mean Alexa puttin’ a body on Ms. Rizk’s typewriter so that it can get an easy put-back.

Man o man, I couldn’t believe Knob Creek Straight Bourbon piled high to the ceiling because nobody wants to get drunk and do it with Rocky Raccoon. Gotta slash the prices if you want to bring ’em back in their gas masks. Best coaching advice I ever gave.

Boy, Jameson Irish Whiskey in 750 ml at a throat-cutting $14.99 and that’s not even counting the coupon that’ll knock off another 2 bucks. Shoot, the cashier we’ll even apply hand sanitizer to your coupon so that you don’t get sick off of Jameson and the virus too.

And the good people at The Warehouse got tired of using a bulldozer to plow through the cases of Miller Lite 30-Pak 12 oz. cans to get to the restroom so they slashed the price to a ridiculous $9.99 so that sanity could be restored on the way to the john. My goodness, for a dollar more, they’ll throw in Latex Sanitary Gloves you can use to help carry the booze to your vehicle. No sense in contracting The Plague while sippin’ The Good Life.

 

And when one of The Warehouse employees is practicing climbing Mt. Everest by punching a piton into a mountain of Bogle Vineyards Select cartons, I think it’s safe to say The Warehouse better reduce the backstock. For $7.79, you can be a Cheese and Wine whiner and if you brought your calculator you use to calculate your piece count at your factory, you can be an even cheaper whiner if you can figure the 10% off that price to the nearest tenth. Good deals, good booze, clean hands, and mold-free Roquefort, sounds like Whiner’s Paradise to me.

Keep yourself safe through these trying times and when you feel justifiably disinfected, come on down and partake of the clearance sale now happening at The Warehouse. Prescriptions don’t just get prescribed at Milford Apothecary. Come buy what the doctor ordered at prices that won’t make you regurgitate and tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.”

 

Gang, stay safe. Follow the Center for Disease Control guidelines to the best of your ability. Don’t underestimate this one. That and common sense and I like the odds. God bless you all.

 

CRASH!!!!!!!!!!!! SMASH!!!!!!!!!!!!! SPLASH!!!!!!!!

“You know you could have used a step-ladder. There’s one in the closet. Now we have to mop up all this Captain Morgan Spiced Rum. We might have a few bottles before the store opens.”

 

 

In Dr. Pearl’s office one day

“Heeeerrreeee, Gil, I have some more crack in my fiilllllleeeee cabinetttttt. You oughta try someeeeee.”

“No way. I tried that in the Marines. Did push-ups with my ears buzzing all day. Did you ever get Chris’ girlfriend’s transcript FedEx’d here?”

 

 

 

March 20, 2020

Oh let it go already!

Filed under: Brown Hair, freak hands, Milford Idiots, Milford Weirdos, Pointy Fingers — robmize2013 @ 7:18 pm

First of all:   Yes I had to go to work today. I’m essential, a mailman. I get permission to leave my house, which is somewhat of a relief given what I hear about people going stir-crazy in their homes and binge-watching every show ever produced. Hey, I get fresh air and (mild) exercise, and listen to talk shows on the radio while Im driving around outside. I get home, walk my dog, rest and watch a little tv, then make dinner and kick back and enjoy my evening.   I really hope by mid-April we’ll have a handle on this thing, because so many lives have been affected. I miss seeing my friends, but I’m sure we’ll be very happy to see each other when this is over. Its all I can do. I wash my hands when I can and try to stay as clean as possible, which is just about impossible while I’m working, but it is what it is. And I never knew I’d be giving up church for Lent.

So these 2 clowns are still re-hashing what happened 3 years ago, and Divot Head is refusing an apology that Chris doesnt even have to make. I really think Chris wasnt aware of it at that moment. You walk by a lot of stuff in a day, and if you stopped and policed every one of them you’d never get anywhere with what You had to do. I think if it was that obvious Chris woulda done something, but Divot should just take his word for it, and MOVE ON. We can add Divot Head to the list of characters to be shot out of a cannon after theyre done entertaining us.

P3 has what looks like Alexa’s guidance counselor reviewing her academic record.  I dont know why this is that necessary in the strip; why we care about her post-Milford life is dubious. And the dialogue is nonsensical. If Alexa already triple-checked this info,  why does Brown Hair have to top that? Who checked first? Sounds like they both did, but Alexa’s balloon should be a question not a statement.

I also cant get over the way that chair is shaped. How BH is sitting in it is beyond me. If its a swivel chair it should be visible behind both sides of her. Comments on this are welcome.

Stay healthy my friends! We’re all in the same boat.

 

March 19, 2020

A Good Samaritan Gone Bad.

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WHAT???? We went through all through this investigation and even by-passed Alexa’s development as a scoring machine down low and Chris’ development in just any category, you name it, only to find out that Teddy Blue planted a whoopee cushion to this plot because Dagwood walked on the other side of the street when Elmo got wedgied by Wee Pals and headed onto Midnight Handicap Bowling Night at Milford Lanes? Say it ain’t so.

Lesson Number One in how never to conduct a treasure hunt. We went to the Milford Public Library and went to the microfiche of all the National Geographic’s (“Milford at a Crossroads: Perspectives and Possibilities”) and the Special Collections to skip over the newspaper articles that showed pictures of Gil actually coaching (Ansel Adams shot it and put it in a scrapbook next to his pictures of Yosemite Valley) then went through Dr. Pearl’s office to see if she was still on the oxygen machine like she’s been inhaling for the last 2 centuries (gettin’ up there in years) and when she could still file away School Lunch Menus for the Month of May, we figured she could maneuver manila folders and use her lungs at the same time, then went through the girls gym where Mimi taught about life and grade point averages and taught Alexa that if you don’t score, you’ll flunk out and life will suck and you’ll wind up in Skid Row where all the other Valedictorians went who got straight A’s but refused to shoot lay-ups go for Purgatory only to learn that Teddy has a severe dearth of furniture and a chip on his shoulder. Talk about going back to square one.

“Teddy, if you want, I can call The Salvation Army and the truck should have the divan delivered by this afternoon, my treat. No hard feelings?”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Donates 1.5 Million Dollars Worth Of Neo-Georgian Living Room Suite Collectibles To Local Neighbor!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I was going to throw it out anyway. Judge Ito sat in the same love seat that Aaron Burr lounged on when we were going over case briefs. Comes with an ottoman.”

 

And as Teenchy mentioned, we’re leapfrogging several episodes, presumably due to baseball and softball suddenly springing on the horizon. Not that much justice will be done to those either but let’s get through this 1 scene, skip several scenes, backtrack a scene, come back to a scene among those several scenes, take a smoke break, another scene, insert a few “meanwhile”‘s along the way in case anybody’s awake (“Meanwhile in Dr. Pearl’s office where she’s spraying Raid on the Science Lab Delivery Invoices”) , divert to the Milford Barber Shop where Gil is investigating Chris’ Kindergarten transcript for any discrepancies in his Spelling Aptitude Test scores while getting a trim and a shave, endure a couple of leftover “meanwhile”‘s (“Meanwhile, at Milford General where Mimi is getting her leg amputated after dropping a bowling ball on her foot”) , watch the last scene ride off into the sunset with Gil riding Trigger and Teddy enjoying the coffee table that Chris recovered from the Wednesday Garbage Day bin and let’s FINALLY get to Spring sports. Don’t ask me to repeat that.

 

“Pop, I found the rake next to the pile of mimeographed sheets of the SAT Answer Code. We’ll nail Teddy for sure, isn’t that right, Birmingham?”

“That most certainly is. And Mr. Chan, I saw Teddy using that rake to filter the dandruff out of his Mohawk, sho’ nuff. We’ll get him for a misdemeanor anyway. Pilfered bookstore items, if nuthin’ else.”

“#2 Son and Birmingham, there’s an ancient Chinese proverb that says ‘When the plot has ended, go check if Gil’s babysitter is still watching the kids’. Now come, let’s let Teddy drown in his Vidal Sassoon Extra Moisturizer Formula and let us partake of a well-earned rest down at The Bucket. We could stand some Bucket Steamed Split Peas.”

 

If ya git a recliner delivered in a 4-wheel drive straight ta yore livin’ room after yore other recliner pooped out from all the butt-scratchin’ from you and yore bloodhounds while ya wuz watchin’ ESPN College Football Gameday ever’ Saturday and ya donate THAT piece uv furniture ta yore neighbor so that he has a place ta put his tool box on so that his tools don’t git greasy from all the dirt on the floor, ya might be a redneck.

 

Pebbles comes over to Bam Bam’s house a week after Bam Bam got due processed from Bedrock Elementary for sticking a dead pterodactyl in her desk while she was up front singing “God Bless America” in front of the class

“Bam Bam, I just want to let you no that I still like you and even though they had to fumigate my desk, the silver lining was they sent that dead pterodactyl to the Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage plant in the Sage Sausage Processing Department.”

“Pebbles, I have always resented you. When I was trying to turn the hose on Dino and that saber-toothed cat that dumps your dad outside at the end of the show, you sent the Mau Maus after me because you were protesting animal cruelty.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Bam Bam-”

“And when your dad used a handgun on my mom’s bird that got the wheels turning on the iron so that my mom could iron my tunic, that was a low blow. Just because that bird told Fred that Wilma got poached brontosaurus eggs at fire sale prices from the Bedrock milkman, well, your dad can dish it out but he can’t take it. It took 4 days of clubbin’ that pterodactyl but if it meant watching you sing “God Bless America” like Captain Beefheart, it was worth it.”

“And I want to make it up to you. My dad is coming over later to deliver that cot to your living room. He slept on it when he was in the Bedford Army National Guard. You will be home, won’t you?”

 

I think it’s important to be a good citizen and support my local neighborhood association. Still, I’m a little befuddled to read about some chickens that were running loose in the streets when I’m not really near any significant farm

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage Plant Fined $1.3 Million Dollars By EPA After Yorkshire Escapes!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Spokesperson at the plant noted that hog ran from Animal Testing Lab into Grease Monkey parking lot and contaminated the asphalt with multiple droppings.”

 

Birmingham Brown in front of the Milford High School Girls Gym, standing by the car, waiting for Charlie Chan and his son

“Boy, I sure hope Mr. Chan is okay. Man, ol’ Alexa was a walking time bomb. When his son told Mimi that instructing Alexa to pretend like she was shooting aTexas Instrument TI-89 calculator was an absurdity, I thought Gil was going to knock him on the floor for a 3-count. Thank God, I’m safe out here. Lord, I’d hate to see how dangerous he can be when he’s doing any coaching. I’ll turn in my resignation to Mr. Chan.”

Charlie Chan and his son come out of the gym

“You were right, Pop. There wasn’t any activity going on. I had a hunch that the Spalding semi with all the basketballs by the Milford Truck Stop was headed towards the Milford YMCA Campground. When he was downing a burrito, that sealed it.”

“Ya mean, I waited for you for 3 months shakin’ in my shoes only to find out THERE WAS NUTHIN’ GOIN’ ON?????”

“Birmingham, I learned from Confucius that man who sees another man with a catcher’s mitt and a volleyball in front of the pavilion should not assume that man is waiting for the 3-man officiating crew. Now, #2 son, I assume you have some Certs in your pocket. Your breath is beginning to smell like Gil’s locker at the Milford Athletic Club.”

 

I am a HUGE comic strip buff and one of my favorites is Gasoline Alley. They have been up and running for over a century and deservedly so. Frank King, the original artist, designed his backgrounds in his strips to resemble the rustic scenery of his native Wisconsin. Nice rolling hills and plenty of pastures graced the cityscape of Walter Wallet and his adopted son, Skeezix. With the seemingly ranch house conept in P3 in mind and pretending The Dells are behind the trees, Rufus and Joel show up

“Mornin’, Mr. Wallet.”

“Good morning, Joel. Good morning, Rufus.”

“Jus’ wanna le’ ya knows that if Betsy stepped inta yer ki’chen un’nvited, I’se sorry. Sumtimes ‘at mule’s gotta mind o’ its own.”

“Oh, that’s okay, Joel. We were able to save the pots and pans that were handed down from the 11th century. We had to throw out the crockery my ancestors took with them on The Mayflower. But we kept the butter churner.”

“Land sakes, tha’s good news. Rufus, you ‘n’ Melba git that box o’ ‘luminum plates off th’ wagon.”

“Yes’m”

“Rufus, I ain’t Melba. Tha’s wuss ‘n’ callin’ me Gil. Mr. Wallet, ’em plates we foun’ down by the crick. I understan’ Tiki ate off ’em when he wuz changin’ school distrikts. But I don’ think he’s returnin’ for dessert, so they’s all yorn.”

“Why, thank you, Joel. Looks like Rufus and Melba are experience trouble getting them off the wagon.”

“Rufus, you’s as worthless as this plot. Do I gotta util’ze Betsy ta tug ’em off?”

“I’s jest that the box is so he’vy, it’ll rip Melba’s skirt clean off. And we got kids ‘at read Gil an’ play bask’tball. Alexa didn’ shoo’ free t’rows ‘n’ her birt’day suit.”

“Rufus, don’ tell me th’ rules. Ya soun’ like Mimi when she’s eatin’ one o’ Melba’s possum biskits f’ breakfast. Han’ me th’ crowbar and git out o’ th’ way. Don’ worry, Mr. Wallet, we’ll git ’em dish’s off th’ wagon and ‘n’ yer livin’ room in a bit.”

“No problem, Joel. I have to go to town. I have to go pick up Skeezix from soccer practice. I’ll be back by the end of the baseball season. You’re welcome to the Lay’s Sour Cream Chips on the shag carpet in the living room. The Milford Steam-Vac guy  foamed the floor an hour ago so you should be good to go.”

“Much ‘bliged, Mr. Wallet. An’ me ‘n’ Rufus’ll git a coal shovel and git all th’ poop off the ki’chen tile. Sumtimes, Betsy’s also gotta butt o’ her own.”

 

“Birmingham!!!!!!!!!”

“Hey, Benjamin!!!!!!!!!!! Whatcha know?”

“Well, I heard that Gil-”

“You’re puttin’ me on. But didn’t Mimi-”

“Naw, the fire truck hosed it down. But-”

“You mean to tell me-”

“Yup, her kids tested negative at the clinic. They-”

“Wait a minute. I saw Gil with a shotgun-”

“Shootin’ mice in the gym-”

“Don’t blame him. Well, Ben, nice seeing you.”

“Same here, Birmingham.”

 

Today’s Women’s History Month entry is Amy Grant. I have always loved her music and I really give her props for ability to write her own songs. She started out in the early ’80’s with hits like “El Shaddai” and “Angels”, then hit her stride later in the decade with her first #1 single, a duet with Peter Cetera (formerly with Chicago) performing “The Next Time I Fall.” She scored her second #1 single, “Baby Baby”, off her blockbuster album, “Heart in Motion.” A six-time Grammy winner, I have always admired her solid Christian life, one of the few I can honestly say (unfortunately) lives the Christian faith along with telling it. Amy, you did the right thing divorcing your first husband. Just because he said he was a Christian did not a Christian necessarily make. You seem A LOT happier now. Please join me in saluting a woman who has created a serious dent in the music industry and still loves Jesus. God bless you, Amy.

 

“We’ll be back to see if Charlie Chan gets the gym open again after he proved to the Milford School Board that years of neglect didn’t prove lack of interest after these messages. This is WDIG-TV.”

 

“Man, I have always liked Charlie Chan movies. Sippin’ a Bud on the couch with Mimi snoozin’ on my shoulder and watching “Charlie Chan Goes to Milford to Stop the Rioting”, well, only  a member of the Swedish Bikini Team would make that better.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp, speaking on behalf of Milford Beverage Warehouse. And, sakes alive, this Coronavirus scare is affecting the nation and I can understand. And people are looking for answers.

Our Booze and Toilets promo has been enhanced with the generous cooperation of Milford Plumbing Solutions. Many toilets are contaminated and health recovery can be hindered with such a contraption stuck like one great big wart in the bathroom.

That’s why The Warehouse is here to save the day and the nation. Bring in your enfant terrible and your Milford Beverage Warehouse credit card and with a purchase of Gallo Family Moscato 1.5 Liter, you can put your problem child on the dump truck and exchange it for a Broyhill Sani-Flush Futur-ama, problem solved. Shoot, for an extra bottle, they’ll even install it. I’m glad I don’t have to use plastic gloves when Jose Cuervo runs through my system and I gotta pee me a river.

And with a purchase of a Bud Light Platinum the 24-Pak, 12 ounce cans for pennies on the dollar, The Warehouse will send the cavalry out to unclog your john. Sometimes, Grandma comes over for St. Patrick’s Day dinner and her constipation seems to be contagious. Over-consumption of green cupcakes will do that. But not all toilets are victims of The Plague. They just need a gentle push and flushing is as easy as falling off a log. And if Milford Plumbing Solutions doesn’t unclog the toilet, you still keep the booze. You’ll get something before it’s all over.

And for you hypochondriacs out there, your worries are over. With a purchase of Jack Daniel’s Tennessee Whisky 750 ml for a price you potty-trained your dog with, Milford Plumbing Solutions and The Warehouse have financed free vaccinations through Milford Public Health Department to cope with the crisis. One shot in the arm and you’ll see Captain Morgan. Hope he’s got a shopping cart because the deals here at The Warehouse are no illusion. I’ll be lining up to go get my bottle.

Come down to The Warehouse and ditch that contaminated throne where it’ll be sent to Perdition, somewhere in the county. And walk out of The Warehouse with your grip on The Good Life. Tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.”

 

Gang, you mean the world to me. PLEASE, all kidding aside, follow the Center for Disease Control guidelines to the nth degree. Wash your hands. Cook THOROUGHLY. Maintain proper distance. Get fresh air and sunshine.  And the cleaner air, the better. Stay active but stay smart. AND if you suspect the symptoms of Coronavirus, DON’T HESITATE GET HELP IMMEDIATELY!!!!!!!!

We’re America, Gang. United we stand. Let’s stand together like we have in the past. It is how we got through in the past and how we’ll get through now. God bless you all.

 

“Well, Mr. Chan, looks we wrapped up another case. You stickin’ around for baseball?”

“I respectfully decline, Mr. Thorp. My grandfather once told me that ‘Man whose feet is stuck in the mud in the batter’s box will never get the benefit of the call from the umpires on a bang-bang play’. Come, Birmingham, take me home.”

 

At the Milford Beverage Warehouse in the vaccination line

“There you are. You’ll see your Maker before you know it, if not Evan Williams. Here, Dr. Pearl, don’t forget your coat and your bottle of Jack.”

 

 

February 22, 2020

In Which Alexa Learns the Definition of Insanity

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The quote is often attributed to Albert Einstein, but it ain’t necessarily so. What is so is that it’s one of the most overused clichés in modern writing. Gil Thorp is chock full of clichés, so it should come as no surprise that we’re resorting to one today. (Honestly, I sometimes think that Rubin has a hatful of about a dozen slips of paper with tropes written on them, pulls out three at the beginning of each season, and runs with them as his arc. For example, “Insecure Braggart” + “Parent Living Vicariously Through Child” + “Tone-deaf Marty Moon” or “Dysfunctional Home Life” + “Manipulative Uncle” + “School Board Member with a Grudge.”)

Putting her newfound pushiness into action, Alexa drives to the hoop only to get called for doing the sprinkler charging by Jackie Rogers Jr. Judging from how the Jefferson defender has her hand wrapped around Alexa’s bicep, she mustn’t have had to to sell the charge too hard. The Lady Jeffs mustn’t push the ball upcourt very fast either, since Alexa and Phoebe have time to analyze in complete sentences as they loaf back on D. Enter the insanity.

While she does have a point, Phoebe’s logic is flawed: Sure the zebra might call the block next time, but who’s to say the Jefferson girl won’t just plant herself and draw another charge? Either Alexa gets into quick foul trouble or reverts to form and starts kicking it back out to her gunner.  Milford will lose and Mimi and Phoebe will play “Who’s the Coach Here?”

February 17, 2020

As Lame As Lame Gets

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Let me get this straight. Chris Schuring talked to Phoebe Keener to share his technique for improving his basketball game and Phoebe is passing it along to Alexa. This technique is move aggressively about in the hallway, dominating other with one’s superior size and agility. I guess it’s a decent idea to develop an instinct or muscle memory in a sense. Still, walking around in crowds of other people in everyday situations is not like being on a basketball court. It’s more like sharing the road with other cars and we’re all urged to drive defensively, not aggressively. The stakes aren’t quite as high in the halls, but some poor kid is probably going to get wiped out as Alexa embraces her inner road hog. Ms. Perrine almost went down, for crying out loud.

 

February 15, 2020

Phoebe’s Electric!

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Steve Luhm, Master of the Janitorium, has been keeping the halls of Milford High so shiny that Phoebe Keener can get in some Electric Slide practice in time for the reprise of the Milford/Goshen flash mob from a few seasons back.

 

I could be wrong; Milford could be replacing West Allis, Wisconsin as the home of US speed skating, and Phoebe’s working on her stride. Then again maybe those are figure skating moves, as her camel game is very strong today.

Any or all of that makes as much sense as the gibberish she’s doling out to Alexa Watson. So Chris Schuring’s little secret is to be an obnoxious jerk and start cutting in front of people everywhere you go? How exactly has that worked out for him? He had a good game against Oakwood but how did that translate from Gil’s directive to “pounce”? He hasn’t pounced on that punk-ass DeMarco kid yet, much less throw his weight around the halls. Better left to his flunkies, I suppose.

Even Phoebe recognizes this little head game won’t make Alexa see herself as less of a geek. If it makes everyone else see that Alexa is a person who won’t let anyone stand in her way physically, then she and Chris are on to something. Too bad it’s not the Lady Mudlarks’ opponents who’ll see all that cutting ahead of kids in the hall. Once Alexa’s muscled her way into position there’s still that little matter of shooting the ball, which Chris’ solution conveniently glosses over.

Speaking of Phoebe and shooting and apropos of nothing, here’s a shot of an Eastern Phoebe taken by son of teenchy on one of our side trips to Bakst country not very long ago.

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February 12, 2020

It’s not often a lame joke gets called out as a lame joke in Milford

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Where we went: Alexa is hung up on an offhand remark third-grader Chris made to her third-grader self nine years ago. She’s let it affect her self-perception ever since.

Where we could have gone: The white boy who watches Jeopardy! is labeled “smart” and the black girl who watches Jeopardy! is labeled “geeky,” at least by the black girl in her own mind. Apparently nobody else got that message, or else they did and they’ve been keeping it on the down low. So much to mine here; looks like we won’t.

Where we’re going instead: To the Milford High Sanitorium  – or is that “Janitorium”? Luhm’s full janitorial arsenal is on open display above his perpetually shiny handiwork. Phoebe, who has to keep telling Alexa she’s her best friend every other time she opens her mouth, is going to play some sort of intermediary between Chris and Alexa. Maybe Chris wants to ask Alexa to the prom? Share his study guide for AP Western Civilization? Get Phoebe in the Janitorium alone, forcing her to make a tough decision between hooking up with the Mudlark QB and professing her secret love for the one she’s constantly reminding she’s her bestie?

Rubin was doing a good job keeping this story arc between the ditches, but now he’s perilously close to letting it run into the berm. Stick around to watch; I’m planning on it.

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