Big Plans Today

MJ has big plans today and sad to say, none of them involve you. I don't really have big plans, just little ones. I wanted to sucker you into reading. My mom had her 92nd birthday yesterday. If you knew Ma you'd call that achievement a miracle. She was an OB nurse in our hometown for over 45 years. Her claim to fame, and who can deny her this, is she helped deliver over 5,000 babies. For a town of 12,000 that's a bunch.
Mom probably doesn't' smoke anymore. Memory does serve me well in this case and I can remember just five years ago arriving for a visit and she's sitting next to a bonfire----smoking a cigarette------with a two gallon can of open gasoline at her feet. I didn't hose her down but I should have. My sister always got on her about smoking but what the heck! I'd tell her, "she's going to die soon anyway so let her enjoy herself". Another MJ prediction up in smoke. Mom must have gotten the message so she started hiding the sticks. I'd water the garden and a Winston would fall out the end of the hose. I'd look for something in the garage and I'd find one in a flower pot. There were more individual cigs hidden in the garage than you could find in a carton. Mom was loyal to her smokes. She never wavered from Winston, all those seventy plus years. Finally, I'm beginning to understand. Methuselah has nothing on my mom. She'll outlive us all. Dementia has taken over in many aspects of her life but she's still feisty and that's a good thing.
Remember my diet? It didn't work. Guess I wasn't dedicated and determined. It's all vanity, of course. I didn't want to look like a circus side show act when I attended my fraternity get together in Chicago next week. My failed response to the ever expanding waistline, "Aw, who cares". Once again I'm a candidate for Kramer's mansierre.
I took in six pair of slacks, brand new, to be shortened. I've been a size 31" length since 1962. Why is it I have a tough time with this when buying clothes. What possessed my to buy size 32? Are all men this way? So, I bought these very nice slacks in Florida and saved around ten dollars per pant. Each alteration came to $8. Not including gas and time spent traveling back and forth to the alterations lady, well, you figure it out. I thought so. It's a wash.
I did a very stupid thing a month ago. For me it's not stupid it's my 'modus operandi'. I do dumb and irresponsible things all the time. Look under 'irresponsible' in the dictionary and you see a definition of me. While golfing I set my distance gizmo on the ground on the ninth fairway after determining how far I was from the pin on the green. It's not many folks who would get in the cart and leave a three week old, $350 piece of technology on the ground but I did. And when I returned to retrieve it a half hour later it was gone. A futile search took place and it's now in some sort of 'distance gizmo orphanage'. Either that, or someone put it on Ebay and took the cash.
At any rate, I promised myself I had had my chance and would never buy another one; didn't deserve it. Yesterday I ordered one except this time it only cost $200
as opposed to the price of the lost one. Now, for some magical Democrat thinking. I saved myself $150 so I deserved it. The big difference though is the taxpayer didn't pony up. That, ladies and gentlemen, is some kind of magical thinking.
I'm seriously contemplating getting my haircut today. I like to get it cut every two months. No, wait a minute! I HAVE to get it cut every two months. I'm sixty-five. My hair grows faster than your grass does after twelve straight days of rain. You could hide a small dachshund on top of my head. It's that thick. Sometimes, I envy bald guys. I wake up every day with 'bed head'. I bought myself thinning shears to avoid trips to the barber. And why, you might ask, am I putting off this haircut decision? Well, we go to the Minnesota lake cabin August 1. My barber in Hackensack, Minnesota charges $7.50 for a fabulous cut. I tip him more than what he charges. He thinks I'm special. I don't want to look like a homeless person when I go to Chicago. I'll personally whack away at my head and if it doesn't work out then it's off to one of those "professional barbers" In Dublin, Ohio. You know who I mean. The one's who charge $20.
I'll give you a handle on what my daily life is like. Think Ozzie in the TV Series, "Ozzie and Harriet": breakfast, visit Thorny, downtown to buy a light bulb, lunch, golf, sit outside and read, go to the malt shop, dinner, say 'good night' to the boys. Throw in the computer and I could have my own television show.
It's Thursday already. Ever hear the saying about how life is short? It's like a roll of toilet paper. The closer one gets to the end the faster it goes. Life is shooting by and I've many rolls to go through yet. The End.