I was not in a good place. I had recently lacerated my hand, which put me in the hospital for a couple days (more on that another time). Work was tough. I hadn’t laughed in a while. A depression was certainly brewing. My wife decided that what I needed was to go to a community fireworks show, since it was the 4th of July and all. She’s typically a wellspring of great ideas when it comes to fighting my darkness, but occasionally she whiffs. Like the time she suggested we hire a contractor to turn a shed into a writing shack and paired that with getting a new Basset Hound. Between 6am nail guns and all-night puppy whimpering, we didn’t really sleep that summer. The puppy, who we named Captain Banjo Butterbuns, was naughty
What an epic tale, Norm! From this point forward, the bare minimum for considering a Fourth of July celebration a success should be "Was there a salsa explosion?" If the answer is no, then it did not pass muster.
I like this new standard. To hell with traditional fireworks. Let there be salsa fireworks. Also, I love that you used the pass-muster idiom. I gotta work that into my language more regularly.
One: I love this suggestion. Two: I could probably get Adam to do a play-by-play commentary. I'll work on it. Three: Prayers up that the khaki guy reads this somehow and we get to connect, clear the air, and I get to buy him some tacos. $100 worth. Thanks for reading.
Oh god, you were right about checking this one out. I was supposed to start my morning work and read this first and now I'm laughing while trying not to wake my mate. The visuals, oh the visuals. And it woke up my memories of being 17, living on my own, supporting myself as a waitress who became known for baptizing a regular patron with ketchup (who tipped me a nickel anyway) and another one, much snootier, who was on his way to a Ram Das talk with the contents of his beer glass, then the pitcher of water I brought to help clean it up. In both cases, I had to be removed from the scene because I could not squeeze out the words "I'm sorry" I was laughing so hard. There is something about the face of a person covered with condiments and fluids that just lifts the spirits in a way nothing else can. It did nothing for my career as a waitress though.
Love the waitress story! I waited tables with a guy who opened a bottle of champagne while he was looking straight down at the cork. It blew, hit him in the forehead, and when he jerked back, he hosed down the entire table with bubbly.
And my mom once swooped in to refill a cup of coffee with one of those old glass carafes and she broke it on the table and the piping hot joe spilled on some poor guy's Charlie Browns. Like you, my mom couldn't stop laughing. Actually, she waffled between crying and laughing. You and her should probably have drinks some time. ;)
I am crying and laughing at the same time…!!! Thank you for writing this.
And i thought that i was the clumsy one, a long time ago i jumped on the street and raised my hand to stop a taxi and someone with glasses that was passing by, felt my hand to his face…and the glasses went almost into his eyes….🤦♀️ it was daylight followed by sudden darkness…
Loved this, Norm. I love how open you are to sharing and how much insight you bring.
Much appreciated. I've had some amazing mentors.
What an epic tale, Norm! From this point forward, the bare minimum for considering a Fourth of July celebration a success should be "Was there a salsa explosion?" If the answer is no, then it did not pass muster.
I like this new standard. To hell with traditional fireworks. Let there be salsa fireworks. Also, I love that you used the pass-muster idiom. I gotta work that into my language more regularly.
If it's the Michelle I know and love I know the tears of laughter... This could have been a Mike Madigan story. Really loved it Norm!
The very same Michelle. And thanks, Carol. I’ll take all comparisons to Mike. I miss that guy.
Just exactly what I needed today… Many thanks to you‼️
My pleasure! And many thanks right back atcha!
Love it. Suggestion: two more versions of the same story, one by Adam and one by khaki pants.
One: I love this suggestion. Two: I could probably get Adam to do a play-by-play commentary. I'll work on it. Three: Prayers up that the khaki guy reads this somehow and we get to connect, clear the air, and I get to buy him some tacos. $100 worth. Thanks for reading.
Oh god, you were right about checking this one out. I was supposed to start my morning work and read this first and now I'm laughing while trying not to wake my mate. The visuals, oh the visuals. And it woke up my memories of being 17, living on my own, supporting myself as a waitress who became known for baptizing a regular patron with ketchup (who tipped me a nickel anyway) and another one, much snootier, who was on his way to a Ram Das talk with the contents of his beer glass, then the pitcher of water I brought to help clean it up. In both cases, I had to be removed from the scene because I could not squeeze out the words "I'm sorry" I was laughing so hard. There is something about the face of a person covered with condiments and fluids that just lifts the spirits in a way nothing else can. It did nothing for my career as a waitress though.
Love the waitress story! I waited tables with a guy who opened a bottle of champagne while he was looking straight down at the cork. It blew, hit him in the forehead, and when he jerked back, he hosed down the entire table with bubbly.
And my mom once swooped in to refill a cup of coffee with one of those old glass carafes and she broke it on the table and the piping hot joe spilled on some poor guy's Charlie Browns. Like you, my mom couldn't stop laughing. Actually, she waffled between crying and laughing. You and her should probably have drinks some time. ;)
And as for the Captain. The only thing better than a condiment-covered stranger is the face of a Bassett. Love that photo.
Captain Banjo's ability to make life fun is indeed a world class, olympic caliber super power. :)
I am crying and laughing at the same time…!!! Thank you for writing this.
And i thought that i was the clumsy one, a long time ago i jumped on the street and raised my hand to stop a taxi and someone with glasses that was passing by, felt my hand to his face…and the glasses went almost into his eyes….🤦♀️ it was daylight followed by sudden darkness…
Clumsiness is a virtue that pays dividends, both light and dark. ;)
This was super funny...great story!
Thanks, Baxter! It was fun to write. And even more fun to be part of. :)