Goings and Comings

Where does the time  go?

Regular readers of this blog will recall that in my last post I resolved to post on a more reliable basis. That this is the first new post in a week is a testimony to how reliable I am.

I do have some excuses though.

•The What-Not Muppet I received for Christmas arrived in the mail. I would go into detail about  how thrilled I am with it here, but I am saving it for the fine TV site I write for, Clique Clack (see link at right), as it's sort of related to TV.

Why would receiving a toy in the mail distract me from  writing this column, you ask? Boy, you don't know me very well.

• I got a new freelance gig that I am very excited about, and also can't tell you about. Sorry.

• Perfect Wife and I began rehearsals for a new play. It is PW's biggest role ever (and my smallest), and I can't wait to see her in it. I would give you details about where and when this show is being performed, but then some of you reading this might actually attend a performance, and we can't have that.

Actually, the biggest excuse I have for not blogging is that it's January, and not much happens in January. Nothing really interesting has happened of late (although regular readers of this blog may wonder if ANYTHING interesting ever happens to me).

However! We're moving into February, so hopefully the pace will pick up around here, and we'll  be back to the Caravan of Laughs this site usually is.

Or we can wait till March.

No, Rocco!

Sorry for the lapse in posting lately. A lot has been going on in these parts. For those of you who depend on this site for your daily-dose-of-chuckles, I resolve, in the spirit of New Year's resolutions, to do better. 

Don't hold your breath.

The big news for our family this week? We almost lost Rocco the Wonder Dog! We've had quite a bit of snow in these parts lately, and Rocco, for reasons known only to him, LOVES to burrow around in the stuff. Perfect Wife was putting him out on his leash last Monday, when all of a sudden Rocco (who usually waits patiently for his leash to be  attached) ran like a crazy man (or dog) into the busy street! He must have had some canine version of cabin-fever, I suppose.

Long  story short, he got clipped by a truck. I wasn't witness to the incident, but PW said if Rocco had been one second faster, he would be taking a dirt nap right now (Thank Goodness he is too chubby for much alacrity!). As it was, he came away from the experience with only a sprained paw. He was pretty quiet for the rest of the day, and we all hoped he'd learned his lesson.

Our hopes were in vain. Today he again made a mad dash for the road, but I was able to catch him in time. They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks. Rocco isn't an old dog, but apparently you can't teach him ANY tricks! He is his own person.

If this snow doesn't go away soon, though, we may have to attempt to "paper train" Rocco. I don't have a lot of optimism about the success of this plan, however.

It might be easier to move to San Diego. 

Phoney Business

Cordless telephones are wonderful things. Instead of being tied to one room in the house, you can wander all over the place while you chat with friends, bill collectors, or solicitors from the police benefit society.

They also have inspired a new national pastime, which we play a lot in this house. It's called, "FIND THE FREAKIN' PHONE!"

The rules are simple. It's basically a variation of the family classic, "WHERE'S THE FREAKIN' TV REMOTE?" To play, one player makes a call. After they hang up, they leave the phone off the cradle wherever they happen to be. It can be anyplace: the kitchen counter, under a pillow,  or even the back porch. Some clever players, myself included, leave it in the bathroom. The next time the phone rings, the fun begins! Each member of the family begins shouting to all the others to answer the phone, and each person can shriek questions as to the location of  the phone, and launch into accusations as to who was on it last. Then, anyone who wants to participate can race about the house, looking for where the ringing is coming from. Teenagers who don't want their parents to know who they're talking to are particularly enthusiastic players. If you don't have children, profanity is certainly permitted.

In our house, we have 4 telephone jacks, so you would think the game might not be that challenging for us. You would be wrong. The members of our family can find many ingenious hiding places. Furniture cushions are popular, under the bed is a classic, too. My favorite spot is under a dog who's so sound asleep, he is oblivious to the ringing one inch from his head.

The one who  finds the phone wins the game, and gets to admonish all the other players to hang up the phone next time. If the call wasn't for that player, they are also permitted to roll their eyes at whomever the call was for.

I realize this game isn't in the same class as "Clue" or "Mystery Date", but we still play it quite a  bit in these parts.

I must cut this column short, the phone is ringing.

LET THE GAMES BEGIN!

Reunited, and It Feels So Good

For those of  you who have been burned in a relationship, and feel you will never find "The One", take heart! There is always a second chance with that someone special. I witnessed this first hand last night.

As you may recall from my previous post, Rocco the Wonder Dog had a special bond with the Squeaky Squirrel toy he got for Christmas, "Squirrely". They were inseparable,  but Rocco "loved" Squirrely a little too hard, and  he was seemingly destroyed. Rocco was devastated at the loss of his little friend.

However, if I have learned one thing in life (and this may be the only thing I've learned), is that there are always second chances. Even in relationships.

Last night, perhaps having been moved by my previous post, Perfect Wife got out a needle & thread and managed to restore Squirrely to his (almost) former glory! Rocco couldn't have  been more delighted to reunite with his inanimate pal, and raced about the house, giving Squirrely a long overdue (in Rocco's mind at least), solid shaking. He was also quite possessive of Squirrely, and wouldn't let any one of us near him. He retired for the evening sound  asleep, with his little buddy clenched firmly in his mouth.

So take heart, there is  someone out there for everyone, and nothing can stand in the way of true love.

Even if you are just a cheap squeaky squirrel.

R.I.P. Squirrely

We have experienced a loss in our family.

Last Christmas, Rocco the Wonder Dog received a squeaky squirrel toy as a gift from his Aunt. It was a wonderful present. The squirrel, who we named "Squirrely" (we're really clever and original when it comes to naming things), even  had the same coloring as Rocco. It was love at first sight, and Rocco and Squirrely became inseparable pals. They spent hours together, and Rocco was very possessive of his little friend, as any human who tried to wipe the spit off Squirrely soon learned.

Alas, Rocco may have loved too fast and too hard. The other day, after a serious shaking from Rocco (a favorite pastime for them, it seemed), Squirrely ripped open. We might have been able  to save him, but Rocco had eaten most of his chum's cotton stuffing.

It was a beautiful relationship, while it lasted, but Rocco still has his filthy tug-of-war sock and rubber hot dog (which  used to squeak until Rocco swallowed the squeak thing) to console him, so he trudges on. Still, there will never be another Squirrely for him.

Unless I can get to PetCo today.

Again, the Block!

I hope all you readers out there had a happy, safe New  Year (actually, if you had an unsafe New Year, chances are you're not reading this right now).

We had a lovely start to 2009. We were whalloped with a  giant snowstorm, which gave us  the perfect opportunity to avoid going to any parties. Perfect Wife and I just snuggled by the fire, and watched the sad spectacle of Dick Clark slur his way through his "Rockin' New Year" special.

Really, truly, sad. Can't celebrities figure out when it is no longer suitable for them to be on camera so we can hang on to our fond memories of  them? Apparently not. Let's call it: "The Lucille Ball Syndrome".

I should talk about being feeble-minded! As you may have guessed from the title of this post, I am, once again,  experiencing a bout  of "creative block". 

I have written about this syndrome before, and I know this inability to draw or write anything remotely entertaining will pass, but it's still vexing.

Enough of me and my "issues"! Happy New  Year to all!

Next time:  Back to the Apex of Mirth that is this blog.