Doggone It

Yesterday, Kachoo, the larger and clumsier of our two dogs, managed to step into a heretofore undiscovered fire ant bed on our property, and was swarmed by them. She's fine, I quickly grabbed her and dunk her into a sink full of water, eventually giving her a much-needed bath. I don't think she even got bitten, due to her thick fur and the short time they had to work. I'm a different story, however, as my hands are covered with ant bites from pulling them off. It's a good thing dogs are so loveable...

NP: Roseanne Cash, "Black Cadillac"

It's Not Just Us

I caught part of a program on one of the news channels this weekend about what a racist and xenophobic society we have in the United States. I can’t deny we have our problems, but there was the implication that it was just us, and not the rest of the world. I would say that, as unfortunate as it may seem, such feelings are almost universal in mankind.

For example, I get my haircut by a wonderful Korean woman named Kim (a surprising name). She owns the shop, and has hired her fellow Korean émigrés as staff. At the adjoining station is another nice young woman also named Kim. Both emigrated to the US as adults, and maintain ties to the old country. Although they typically speak Korean among themselves, when I’m in the chair, they use English as a courtesy (something you won’t get from, say, Germans. But I digress.). Some time, ago, whilst I was getting my locks sheared, the following exchange took place. To avoid confusion, my Kim is Kim1, the other Kim is Kim2.

Kim2: Did you hear about the plane crash?

Kim1: What plane crash?

Kim2: A passenger plane crashed in Korea. 147 people were killed.

Kim1: Oh, my God! That’s terrible!

Kim2: They were all Chinese.

Kim1: Oh (pauses). Then who cares?

NP: James McMurtry, “Cheney’s Toy”

More Conspicuous Consumption

I gave in and ordered a new guitar, to be delivered in mid-June. I need a new guitar like a hole in the head, but I can’t resist my love for Danelectro. The guitar pictured here is the Danelectro ’63 baritone. It will be my first baritone guitar that’s not half a doubleneck, and it will be good to play while singing, since my singing voice is also a fairly deep baritone. It’s not a good voice, but it is deep. Here’s the new child I’m waiting on:

NP: Doug Sahm, “Nuevo Laredo”

An Ordeal Behind Me

I have survived Older American’s Festival again. No senior citizens hit me, none died on the premises, and life is good. Not even any good stories, like the year two 80 year old men fought because they found out they had the same girlfriend, a 78-year-old hussy. As soon as the sunburn fades, it will all be a memory.

NP: Robert Earl Keen, "I Still Miss Someone"

Tomorrow, I Dine In Hell

Please keep me in your thoughts tomorrow, as my agency sponsors the annual Older Americans Festival (We are not allowed to call it OAF). I will be dealing with 3500+ seniors citizens. And before you start in with “seniors are the nicest people, remember this one: “Only the good die young’, which would mean I will be around 3500 evil people. Past festivals have seen me slapped, having a coke thrown on me, and beaten with an umbrella. I so look forward to this.

NP: James McMurty, “Just Us Kids”

Alabama Legislative Outtakes

Ever wonder what that good-for-nothing so-and-so you elected to the state Lege is doing to earn your money? Now you can know. Loretta Nall has started a blog called Alabama Legislative Outtakes that is a must read/hear. it features audio tracks of actual legislative (in)action. Many of the clips are high comedy, but here's a warning: If you are prone to depression, please be sure you've been taking the appropriate dosage of Prozac before finding out what the Lege is actually up to.



NP: Robert Earl Keen, "The Bucking Song"

Guilt By Association

I’ve posted before about the above miscreants; the simultaneous bane and joy of my life. For those of you who don’t remember the larger one (11 pounds) is Kachoo, while the smaller one (5 pounds) is Kaylee.

Kachoo has a problem. She’ll eat anything, organic or inorganic. She is always in a panic for food, and swallows anything that will fit in her mouth, including rocks. This is attributed to a number of things. I slipped and dropped her from a short height when she was a puppy, which might have caused brain damage. More likely, we got her at far too young an age (5 weeks) and she has suffered some form of separation anxiety. Whatever the cause, she is a bottomless pit with no distinction made as to what she throws into it.

As a puppy, she developed a disgusting fondness for stealing Kleenexes out of the trash, and gobbling them down, an 8.5 on the gross-o-meter. We tried soaking a Kleenex in a fluid purchased at a local pet emporium, guaranteed to repel dogs from eating it. She gobbled the Kleenex like it was candy. In desperation, I took a bottle of the hottest hot sauce I own (I am a dedicated follower of hot foods), soaked a tissue with it, and left in on an end-table where Kachoo could get it, and left the room. Almost immediately, I had pangs of guilt. This sauce was so hot it would set me on fire with just a drop, and I had saturated the Kleenex. I didn’t want to hurt her, so I ran back into the den to grab it and throw it away. The Kleenex was gone, and Kachoo was happily licking the cap of the hot-sauce bottle.

So, it wasn’t exactly surprisingly when BW woke me up on a recent Saturday with the news Kachoo had eaten chewing gum. My first inclination was just to roll over and go back to sleep, but BW had already done some research. Kachoo had eaten one pack of citrus gum and one pack of spearmint (her breath had never smelled better). More importantly, the gum was sugar-free. Apparently, sugar-free gum contains an amazingly toxic chemical (makes you think, don’t it?) and Kachoo had ingested many times the lethal amount for her size. So we hied with all due speed to the local emergency veterinary clinic, where they told us we were looking at a window of minutes to address the problem. Kachoo had her stomach pumped, and was forced to swallow a large amount of charcoal. While we waited to see if she would be all right, a new thought arose. What about Kaylee? Normally, she doesn’t have the food obsession of her older sibling (her fetish is 20+ hours of sleep a day), but we couldn’t be certain. So, back to the house, grab dog #2, return to the clinic, where the process of stomach pumping and fore-feeding charcoal was repeated. Since Kaylee’s only probably fault was hanging around with a bad element, this seemed unfair, but we had to be sure.

The upshot was, both dogs were fine, and we got them back mid-day, their faces stained black from the charcoal. They are both doing well, and show only one side effect: Kachoo now eats the charcoal briquettes I use for grilling outside.

NP: James McMurty, “Cheney’s Toy”