I learned a valuable life lesson yesterday when a homeless street urchin burst out from between two parked cars, grabbed my jacket lapels and informed me that when joining two independent clauses, I should “be goddamned sure to use a comma followed by a conjunction, a semicolon alone, or a semicolon followed by a freakin’ sentence modifier!”
***
Like so many aspects of life, art is a mystery to me… I know very little about it, but I do know what I like. In fact, I’ve become so adept at identifying such work, I’ve recently been appointed Curator of the Midwest Museum of Art That I Like.
***
Quit telling me that everything you like is illegal, immoral or fattening. All that says to me is that you’re a sanctimonious Puritan with no glands.
***
I’m not being judgmental— only God can do that— but I have to tell you, He’s been appearing to me and a lot of your friends, telling us what an a-hole you are.
***
Most of the time I don’t pay a lot of attention to abandoned offshore drilling platforms. I can’t remember even once mentioning the subject. So why is it that lately, everyone keeps reminding me how perfect one might be for me to take up permanent residence?
***
There is most certainly a purpose and meaning to the universe, even if it is far too complex and beyond my ability to understand. I take solace in the fact that for one fleeting second right before I die, I might gain a minute spark of insight.
***
My joy is beyond verbalization. Today, Federal Express delivered my Medieval Catapult Kit! At first, a couple of my neighbors were a tad nervous, but I put their fears to rest by explaining that I couldn’t possibly hit anything that close.
***
Life in rural America can be complex. Virgil Peebie’s mother stopped by today and spent a half-hour explaining to me all about how the new love in Virgil’s life kept making him ‘misty-eyed’ all the time. Turns out that he mistook passion for the onset of glaucoma. As I explained to his mama, I tried to tell him that little ewe wasn’t right for him, I don’t care how attractive he found her to be.
***
While walking by an antique shop recently, an odd, irregularly shaped glass sculpture caught my attention. When I walked in and asked to see it, the proprietor seemed a bit hesitant to show it to me. After holding it and examining it closer, I noticed that he started to sweat when I asked him the price, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a woman whom I perceived to be his wife, peeking out from behind a hanging tapestry.
Hands visibly shaking, the little man put his finger to his mouth and peered deeply into my eyes, undoubtedly testing my resolve. “I couldn’t take a penny under $200, mister”, he replied, his brow steeled to his work.
Once again, I rolled the strange object of my affection in my hands, its smooth surfaces warming my hands and heart. Sure, that was a lot of money, but for this stunning beauty to grace my mantel— I would have paid twice that amount. I ignored the little voice in the back of my mind trying to tell me to put it down, and casting caution to the wind, I blurted out “SOLD!”
Receipt in hand, I closed the shop’s front door behind me and stepped on the sidewalk. As I turned to walk away, an older lady grabbed my arm and smiled. “I see you’ve been to The Dollar Store, too… I bought seven, myself. At $1.98, I couldn’t pass them up. They’ll make lovely stocking-stuffers this Christmas.”
Somewhere behind me, from inside the antique shop, I heard raucous laughter.
***
***
Like so many aspects of life, art is a mystery to me… I know very little about it, but I do know what I like. In fact, I’ve become so adept at identifying such work, I’ve recently been appointed Curator of the Midwest Museum of Art That I Like.
***
Quit telling me that everything you like is illegal, immoral or fattening. All that says to me is that you’re a sanctimonious Puritan with no glands.
***
I’m not being judgmental— only God can do that— but I have to tell you, He’s been appearing to me and a lot of your friends, telling us what an a-hole you are.
***
Most of the time I don’t pay a lot of attention to abandoned offshore drilling platforms. I can’t remember even once mentioning the subject. So why is it that lately, everyone keeps reminding me how perfect one might be for me to take up permanent residence?
***
There is most certainly a purpose and meaning to the universe, even if it is far too complex and beyond my ability to understand. I take solace in the fact that for one fleeting second right before I die, I might gain a minute spark of insight.
***
My joy is beyond verbalization. Today, Federal Express delivered my Medieval Catapult Kit! At first, a couple of my neighbors were a tad nervous, but I put their fears to rest by explaining that I couldn’t possibly hit anything that close.
***
Life in rural America can be complex. Virgil Peebie’s mother stopped by today and spent a half-hour explaining to me all about how the new love in Virgil’s life kept making him ‘misty-eyed’ all the time. Turns out that he mistook passion for the onset of glaucoma. As I explained to his mama, I tried to tell him that little ewe wasn’t right for him, I don’t care how attractive he found her to be.
***
While walking by an antique shop recently, an odd, irregularly shaped glass sculpture caught my attention. When I walked in and asked to see it, the proprietor seemed a bit hesitant to show it to me. After holding it and examining it closer, I noticed that he started to sweat when I asked him the price, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a woman whom I perceived to be his wife, peeking out from behind a hanging tapestry.
Hands visibly shaking, the little man put his finger to his mouth and peered deeply into my eyes, undoubtedly testing my resolve. “I couldn’t take a penny under $200, mister”, he replied, his brow steeled to his work.
Once again, I rolled the strange object of my affection in my hands, its smooth surfaces warming my hands and heart. Sure, that was a lot of money, but for this stunning beauty to grace my mantel— I would have paid twice that amount. I ignored the little voice in the back of my mind trying to tell me to put it down, and casting caution to the wind, I blurted out “SOLD!”
Receipt in hand, I closed the shop’s front door behind me and stepped on the sidewalk. As I turned to walk away, an older lady grabbed my arm and smiled. “I see you’ve been to The Dollar Store, too… I bought seven, myself. At $1.98, I couldn’t pass them up. They’ll make lovely stocking-stuffers this Christmas.”
Somewhere behind me, from inside the antique shop, I heard raucous laughter.
***
8 comments:
My favourite:
I’m not being judgmental— only God can do that— but I have to tell you, He’s been appearing to me and a lot of your friends, telling us what an a-hole you are.
Thanks for the laugh....
Great life lessons...as always. I like you opening. Boy, am I in trouble with the homeless people! Say nothing about the grammar police.
nothin' quite like the world according to bubba... this should be a weekly column over here... i loved this.....and would definitely read more if you got em.....
haha--you know the saying--ask P.T. Barnum...
That is why I never let
my husband shop alone
or that is the way it would
be if I had one of those.
I love the Bum grammer
police, they are so judgmental.
kllk
Oh I love the first one. It reminds me of a Woody Allen bit--something about a guy who hires hookers to read Shakespeare. Am I rambling?
Johemmant-- You're welcome, ma'am... glad you enjoyed it.
Shirley-- Yea, the grammar police are everywhere. I personally have one staked out in a tree in my back yard, scoping me out with binoculars, as we speak.
Paisley-- Actually it was, at one time. I published a column called "Bubba Speaks" on the internet for six years.
Kay-- Aren't they, though? And persistent, too...
Jo-- Was that "Mighty Aphrodite"? Hmmmm... can't remember.
A-humina-humina-humina! LOL
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