Tuesday, February 25, 2014


                                            
                                                         BLOGGER FODDER

     “I don’t like people,” she said. “People are so obnoxioux and arrogant. The reality shows are so pathetic. Who the hell cares about the Kardashians? We have a beautiful home in the woods in the east. It’s like something out of Dr. Zhivago. Do you remember that film? Well, we can’t even get down our driveway. This has been a winter from hell. The climate is changing, and we are all going to pay the price. I don’t even care anymore. We’ve had 54 inches of snow this winter. 54 inches! We can’t even get down our driveway. I tell my grand-daughters (pulls out wallet to display photos of seven-year-old twins) that they should not whine. I hate whining. I was a teacher, and those kids used to whine all the time. I try to teach my grand-daughters not to whine. The world is going to hell. I’m telling you. Did I tell you we had 54 inches?” 

     This was my introduction to the woman sitting at an adjoining table last night where Mr. Wonderful and I had gone for our romantic date night out. We were attending a Cabaret performance at a delightful small historic theatre downtown. Normally, I would be very annoyed by this kind of person, but now that I am a budding blogger, I was taking it all in planning my next essay. “Keep it comin’, lady. I am lovin’ this,” I thought.

     Mr. Wonderful was not sharing my enthusiasm. Somehow it didn’t quite set the mood he had in mind. I am laughing to myself, though, thinking how sad it must be to really live life from this woman’s perspective. She whined and whined off and on through the evening, but once the music started, surprisingly, she started rocking back and forth and keeping time on the tablecloth. People are hilarious. I couldn’t make this shit up.

     Mr. Wonderful and I thoroughly enjoyed the wonderful talent we witnessed. The music was great, and the energy contagious. I did some rockin’ and singin’ myself. 

     Looking over to my left, I noticed an old guy in sunglasses sitting right next to the stage. I thought maybe he was asleep (hard to believe with the music right in his face), but then I saw him gently rocking. Only his head moved. It was fun just watching him. It did occur to me that perhaps he was blind, but maybe he had an ugly wife. Who knows?

    Other than driving the wrong way down a one-way street on the way home, it was another ho-hum marvelous evening in Paradise.