Gosh it’s hot. At least, it’s hot around here in good ol’ western PA. I hope things are a tad cooler elsewhere. But, even in the midst of this heat and humidity, vanity marches on! For example:
I’d stay and offer more, but I’m just too drained from this heat. Yeesh. Still, it beats winter, right Sly?
Theobald was deceptively scary:
The 70s, they were a different time:
Happy belated 4th and summer in general, folks! I’ve been busy with other things, but vanity, like rust, never sleeps. So, let’s take a look at how things are shaping up out there:
Wow, it must have been the incessant buzzing of insects that comes with summer what put me in this frame of mind. Now I can’t get this infernal buzzing out of my head. Well, if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em, I say:
Per today’s Daily Prompt. Here’s to better days for the people of Istanbul. It’s been a tough year for the people of that city and for Turkey as a whole. I send them my best:
King’s County had its own special appeal to him that won out in the end:
Check out @midnight’s Tweet: https://twitter.com/midnight/status/743909834760716288?s=09
Passion without purpose
Regret without focus
A need for change
A desire for routine
Funny what happens
When one shakes things up
A change in routine
I feel sad, but this is coming from fatigue and job stress as much as anything else. I must remember this so that I don’t succumb to the temptation to wallow in all this sorrow. I also have to remember to practice better self-care, by which I mean keep up the exercise and prove my sleep hygiene.
Ok, enough angst for now.
The Lumps always did have their own way about them:
Per today’s Daily Post, here’s what I think of when I think of the word “giggle”:
I’ll admit that the last one was a stretch, but I did this all without the help of a thesaurus!
Cassius was a fun relative but a terrible neighbor:
His expression of his religiosity was unique to say the least.
“It all averages out” is one of the most nebulous phrases that I know. On the surface, it sounds fine, but if you take a deeper look, you begin to see that’s there’s more to things than just the “average.” Take my neighbor situation, for example. I live in a townhouse which sits between two others (out of a block of five). On my left, one of my neighbors practices on his piano sometimes. I’m not infrequently greeted with soft, dulcet tones as he practices. I’ll grant that there are times when I can hear his TV through the wall, but that’s generally the bass portion of things and this is infrequent. The house to my right is a different story. It’s inhabited by a shouty drunk man. This guy frequently blares his stereo, loudly scolds his cat, and converses loudly and/or argues with a parade of low-level low-lifers and the occasional paramour. For example, I was treated to an overheated argument that centered around a lady friend of his not being able to float him $500 right away last Saturday evening. This eventually ended after what sounded like three iterations of the argument. Three loud iterations. The next night a man came by to tell him not to touch his sister while yelling into his house while ol’ Shouty McDrinkPants yelled back out a window. Good times.
Thus, if you “average” these two neighbors out, you get something approaching calm. But the reality is that I have to deal with wild swings in my auditory intake. It “averages out” but that’s not the issue. The issue is one of variance. I’d happily trade silence on my left side for a corresponding cessation of drunken yammering on my right. That sort “averaging out” would result in the general level of quiet being more consistent. I’d happily trade pleasant piano music for a lot more quiet from a late-stage alcoholic. In short, you can’t just look at the mean, but the variance as well. Thus endeth the lesson.
There’s Vanity, and then there’s outright Narcissism. These plates aggrandize the driver in such a way that they cross that line. Behold:
Self-glossing is not the way to go. Show, don’t tell. Maybe you all need to take a long, hard look at yourselves, like this guy did:
Ol’ Percy was ahead of his time in his own way:
Word of the Day – tessellate: to form or arrange in a checkered or mosaic pattern. http://dictionary.reference.com/wordoftheday/2016/03/29 at Dictionary.com
Good song, though.
Brunhilde Durchfallen liked her beer:
Electricity done got the better of old Ezekiel Hardmeat:
We’re a pious lot here in Pennsyltucky, even when we’re committing one of the Seven Deadly Sins. So, look upon these with Agape, yes?
I know some of you heathens are laughing. That’s ok, though, I could use the company once I get to where I’m headed.
Granny Feldspar had moxie – and one hell of a temper.
Tobias was all about high-fiber diets before they were even a thing.
That is all.
What better day to celebrate greatness and bad puns than Super Bowl Sunday?
Speaking of bad taste in good fun, remember this little football gem from back in the day?
Today’s Daily Prompt asks “Are you comfortable in front of people, or does the idea of public speaking make you want to hide in the bathroom? Why?”
I get anxious when I speak in public, but that begins to fade fairly quickly, especially if I’ve had some consistent practice. And therein lies the key to it all. It may be cliché, but practice does make perfect. And I have Hugh Ringer to thank for that.
The gentlemen of whom I speak was my high school’s speech team coach (we didn’t have debate as he was also our high school’s athletic director) for several decades. And he fit the bill, a dapper dresser with a stentorian voice and dynamic manner, he was almost the prototypical protagonist in 50’s musical. He would see to it that a system was in place. You were encouraged to join in 7th or 8th and stay until 12th grade, and while you did, you practiced twice a week from December until March or early April. This was my pattern; I started in 7th and stayed on until I was a senior (12th grade). In short, I had a lot of practice during my formative years.
Another way that being a member of the speech team helped was our exposure to those who were closer to what we call the “1%” today. We were a group of small town kids of whom little was expected, and yet we won numerous tournaments that we entered and collected individual trophies by the armful year in and year out. And we won by beating kids from other schools who being groomed to apply to – and be accepted to – Ivy League schools while most of us were encouraged only to shoot for a State of Pennsylvania-sponsored school. We learned to see past that sort of class difference and not let it intimidate us.
So, yeah, I still get a little nervous, but after a while, I’ll do just fine. One of my grad school professors even told me after a presentation that I “had a great future as a televangelist.”, so I thin I’ll be juuuust fine with the Speechifyin’ , thank you. And thanks, Hugh!
Philomena always had to contend with cowlicks:
If only they had styling salons back then.