C, Eb and G Walk Into a Bar…

C, E-flat and G go into a bar. The bartender says, “sorry, but we don’t serve minors.” So E-flat leaves, and C and G have an open fifth between them. After a few drinks, the fifth is diminished and G is out flat. F comes in and tries to augment the situation, but is not sharp enough. D comes in and heads for the bathroom saying, “Excuse me. I’ll just be a second.” Then A comes in, but the bartender is not convinced that this relative of C is not a minor. Then the bartender notices B-flat hiding at the end of the bar and says, “Get out! You’re the seventh minor I’ve found in this bar tonight.”

E-Flat comes back the next night in a three-piece suit with nicely shined shoes. The bartender says, “you’re looking sharp tonight. Come on in, this could be a major development.” Sure enough, E-flat soon takes off his suit and everything else, and is au natural. Eventually C sobers up and realizes in horror that he’s under a rest. C is brought to trial, found guilty of contributing to the diminution of a minor, and is sentenced to 10 years of D.S. without Coda at an upscale correctional facility.
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Thanks to Billy Rader for sending me this. Just had to post it!

PEACE

PEACE

It is December 26th. There is a hush over our house. My husband is asleep, and our cat, Henry, is curled up at the foot of the bed.

I have just made a brief tour of the wreckage that was Christmas Day, 2004. There are bits of raffia scattered all over the kitchen counter and strewn throughout the house. Pieces of red and green wrapping paper and bits of shiny ribbon no bigger than a thumbnail are distributed everywhere. Our coffee table is littered with melted-down candles of every size and description, and there are rings of purple on the blond wood from last night’s wine glasses. Unwrapped gifts are now placed haphazardly under our tree, which has dried out quite a bit since we first brought it home. We ourselves are happily worn-out and sloppy. I think we probably both gained a pound or two from all the holiday candy, cakes and cookies, which were showered down upon us like manna from heaven.

Outside, I can hear the world moving on. There are trucks and cars already out on the freeway shushing along, although the sun is barely up on this Sunday morning. I wonder where can they possibly be going. But then, I realize that there are people whose lives don’t go on hold just because of the holidays – hospital workers, convenience store clerks, news anchors, the people who magically appear to take your order when you’re just too blown out to cook breakfast.

Today I will slowly regain my equilibrium. At a leisurely pace, I will sweep, vacuum and scrub the floors, wipe the counters, put away the wrapping paper, discard the used candles, clean the glass rings from the coffee table, change the sheets, change the kitty litter, water the Christmas tree and all the other dried-out houseplants, and do the laundry which has been completely neglected for the past week.

It feels as though I’ve been on a merry-go-round for the past month and a half. Time to slow down, breathe, put away the party hats, and get ready for the coming new year. It feels very good, returning to normal, after all the hoopla.

Yesterday my Christmas prayer was for peace. For now, in this house, at least, my prayer has been answered.

© 2004, Robin Munson

HO-HO-HO-HUM

HO-HO-HO-HUM

Dear Readers,

This is a gentle reminder that, especially at this hectic time of the year, it is vitally important for all of us to be well rested and not to overextend ourselves. Like I did yesterday.

For those of you who may have been reading my posts for a couple of months, you may recall that I said that this year I would not be rushing at the last minute to do my shopping (as in years past). Oh, how the mighty have fallen! Yesterday, one week and one day before Christmas, found me making a large loop centered around the mall. I had to go to the post office, the drug store, the grocery store, a restaurant for a gift certificate, then to the mall. Well, I had my route all planned and was in the Christmas spirit. I had just finished a successful mall run and was congratulating myself when I realized I wasn’t done yet. I had forgotten to go to the pet store to get a gift for my mother’s little dog, Mugsy. (It’s really more for Mom than it is for Mugsy, truth be told). Anyway, after that, I was really starting to feel the fatigue setting in. A little voice in my head said, “Robin – Go Home!”, but I refused to listen. Next thing I know, I was trying to park my car in the last available space on the street. I had to back up to pull in, and I started to do that, then looking back realized I would have to move forward a little to give room to the car behind me. As I pulled forward I heard a “Thunk!”. That was the sound of my left fender crunching the tail light of the big black Mercedes in front of me.

You can imagine what ensued. The offended elderly couple got out of their car and began to berate me. I began apologizing and shaking and feeling like I was four years-old. We exchanged information, and very slowly, I pulled away and went home with my tail tucked between my legs.

Now, it’s cold and flu season, and Art has had a cold, so on top of the holiday bustle, I have been running on less than all four cylinders. (If one person in a relationship has a cold, essentially, you both do – because every time he wakes up to cough, you wake up, and your sleep is interrupted.) So I was tired and I had a lapse where the synapses weren’t firing.

Take it from me. Sleep. Rest. And if that little voice in your head starts to nag you to go home, go home. There are still seven shopping days left till Christmas.

© 2004, Robin Munson