100% of the profit from this shirt goes directly to Rissa Watkins, wife, mother, & writer, to support her fight against Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. Design courtesy of Kelly Spies. Copyright 2010 - theBarefoot
100% of the profit from this shirt goes directly to Rissa Watkins, wife, mother, & writer, to support her fight against Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. Design courtesy of Kelly Spies. Copyright 2010 - theBarefoot
My mom is visiting. She lives 6 hours away in Arkansas and thinks she’s too old to drive the entire trip. So my sister and I meet halfway, in the middle of BF, Mississippi and transfer cargo, including one 5′ 1″ white-haired woman. That leaves my mom here without a car.
She stays with her sister while visiting Huntsville, but sometimes wants to take a side trip. Today I got to shuttle her to Birmingham, the Magic City, well, Inverness at least, which is south of Birmingham. There she’ll visit her sister-in-law…make that sisters-in-law. All three are widows. All three are pretty well provided for in the latter years. All three together are hell on wheels. The antiques stores don’t stand a chance.
I set out to document the road trip in video. While editing, I realized what I had shot was the most boring crap ever and canned all but two or three minutes of riotous laughter between my daughter and me as we got back to town. Please to enjoy a brief video, wherein we discuss the ever-growing problem of Walmart taking over the world, sort of.
Kids, I came to a frightening realization today; socks are slowly taking over the world. They are doing it very slyly and subtlety. First, watch this video wherein I explain what the cheeky bastards are up to. Then, check your sock drawer. You’ll see that I’m right. Something has to be done, people! What it is, I don’t know…yet, but I’ll figure it out. If you have suggestions about how to handle this situation, please let me know what we can do about the worldwide sock conspiracy. We must unite, stand together, and never waiver, no matter how these insipid socks try to control our minds.
I fell asleep in the recliner last night, computer on lap, documentary playing on YouTube. I awoke and the first thing to come into focus was the clock. The softly glowing, green numbers on the cable box read 12:15. I panicked. My brain shouted, “We have to be at the restaurant at 1:00!” The second thing to come into focus was the darkness beyond the window. Always the math wiz, I was able to put two and two together and figure out it was 12:15 AM. Crisis avoided.
I spent the next 10 minutes dragging myself to the bathroom and on to the bedroom all the while mentally grumbling about clock makers in the United States not selling 24-hour clocks. My panic level would have been zero if I had awakened to 00:15.
“Why the panic?” you ask. 13:00 was the arranged meeting time for a large chunk of the family at the Old Heidelberg restaurant. We were gathering to celebrate my Aunt Edna’s 90th birthday. You read that right…90th birthday. Something like that, you just don’t miss. Aunt Edna is the de-facto matriarch of the family. The great thing about her turning 90 is she’s still in good health. Her husband is still alive. Neither of them needs more help with their daily lives than the other can provide. They set a lofty goal for the rest of us.
On July 2, 2012, Lord willing and the creek don’t rise, my wife and I will celebrate our 30th wedding anniversary. Aunt Edna started that tradition, too. We share that anniversary date with them, but we lag 40 years behind. Since I’m the math wiz, I’ll do the cipherin’ for you, Jethro. This year marks their 70th blissful, married year together. Yet, another lofty goal for the rest of us.
I’m just in awe. I hope I live to see those numbers with my mind and body free from serious infirmity. Here’s to Aunt Edna, a role model for the rest of us, may she see many more birthdays, anniversaries, and love before her example becomes just a beloved memory.
Don’t let the length of the video deter you. The birthday part is only the first four minutes. You’ll get to see the cake with Aunt Edna’s picture on it. After that, I just ramble on about life, the universe, and everything. You can bail anytime. It won’t hurt my feelings.
Last Sunday was the Stupor Bowl, that annual tradition where millions of fans vicariously exercise through the jocks on TV while stuffing nachos, buffalo wings, & pizza down their throats. Am I glad football season is over? You’re damned skippy I am! I’ve just never been a football fan. But if a picture is worth a thousand words, then this video is a novel in under four minutes.
May peace and tranquility reign until Autumn or late summer or July 4th or whenever football season starts again. They keep moving the start of the season up every year, don’t they?
And, yes, of the three thumbnails YouTube offered for the video, that was the most flattering. Please to enjoy my ramblings. There is no singing in this vLog like there was in last Saturday’s.
