How to Celebrate a Holiday Part 2: Gravy Jr’s Guide to St. Patrick’s Day

I went to open the door, and it was stuck; or rather, something was blocking it. I leaned in closer and heard the distinct half snore of an exhausted toddler. He had fallen asleep against the door, again.  As I gently reached around to slide him away, allowing me to open the door enough to slip inside his room, it occurred to me – my 3 year old had just celebrated St. Patrick’s Day afternoon the same way many adults would be spending their evenings:

• Drink copious amounts of punch
• Run around the house singing unintelligibly
• Accuse a stuffed rabbit of crimes against a Batman figurine

And finally

• Fall asleep, naked from the waist down, on the floor of your bedroom with a spider man blanket over your head

Happy St. Patrick’s Day, everyone.

If you missed my first guide to celebrating a holiday, go here.

Human Animal Communication

There are several times in my life when I’ve been fairly certain an animal was trying to communicate with me. These experiences usually start with hesitation–should I trust this woodland creature? I mean, who is he really? Then they round into cautious excitement–this beaver is trying to teach me something! Then it flows into mystic feelings of connection–Yes, neighbor’s cat I’m here! I see you! Communicate with me. But these encounters almost always end in solemn disappointment, because as hard as I’ve tried, I’ve never been able to receive a clear message. Once I thought this baby moose was trying to tell me I should take up wood working, but it turns out he was just eating some leaves.It’s never going to happen for me. Or is it?You can imagine my excitement when several nights ago I was awakened by the strange bark of a neighborhood dog. This bark was different. It was meaningful, it was clear. The dog barked and I understood! I knew what I needed to do. Change the sheets. Yes, the sheets. I didn’t care that the dog was giving me such a seemingly minuscule assignment.  He could have told me to eat the toilet and I would have dutifully complied. After years of trying, I was finally communicating with the animal kingdom. After changing the sheets, I listened for more instructions.  There were none, so I crawled back into bed and drifted off to sleep. Minutes later, the bark came again. “Ruff, ruff, ruff.” It’s happening again! In your face past failures and sadness. I quickly got up and changed the sheets a second time. Then, nothing, the bark was gone. As I began to feel myself falling asleep again, the bark returned.  Change the sheets. And I did. “Why so many sheet changings?” I began to wonder. Another bark, and I changed the sheets. Then another and another, and yet another. Change the sheets.  What does this all mean? Where is this all leading? Am I being prepped for some bigger assignment? Am I being initiated into the legions of K9ia? Then it happened…I woke up. A dream? A dream. My sheets were the same color they were when I went to sleep, and the alarm on my iPhone was sounding–with the distinct sound of a dog’s bark.

Now if you think a short (but true) story ending in a clichéd “it was a dream” is a disappointment, I can assure you the actual crushing realization was much worse than this literary let down.

Stupid iPhone with Dog Bark alarm sound option. Stupid life long animal friendship goal. Stupid subconscious trying to tell me 78 days is too long to go without washing the sheets.

An Apple Flavored Mystery

I recently bought a bag of apples. This much I know for sure.  But beyond that is where things get a little sketchy. I don’t recall precisely how many apples were in the bag, but I feel fairly certain there were at least half a dozen. This was 3 days ago. Today, there are no apples in the bag.  Using my best detective skills, I can come up with two plausible explanations:

• #1- In a blurry stupor, I sleep-ate all 6+ apples in one sitting.
• #2 – My 2 year old took them and hid them somewhere in the house.

I am not sure which one scares me more.

Disclaimer: I actually wrote this about a year ago.  It got lost in the abyss that is my “Blog Brainstorm” Google Docs folder.  Better late than never

Everybody Loves

Hypothetically, if someone were to say: “Hey, I bet you 5 bucks you can’t write a lyric about Ray Romano.” I’d probably respond with this:

Haven’t been outside for days
Sunlight on my face in Rays
Love like Heaton for Romano
Heatin up my insides, poblano
Gonna live today like there’s no tomorrow

Then I’d blow the 5 bucks on Otterpops.

Finger Gun Thing

You know what needs to come back? Using your thumb and pointer finger to turn your hand into a gun and then using that gun to say “hi” to people. You know what I mean, the thing where you bend your thumb forward like the hammer of a gun as a sort of mini wave. That needs to come back.Here are three solid reasons why
1- It’s awesome. And it makes people feel good.
2-It boosts self esteem. Everyone feels cooler carrying a (finger) gun on their hip

3- It spreads less germs than traditional handshaking

Bonus- You can pretend to like someone but really be secretly shooting them in your mind with some kind of spell or harpoon.So we are agreed then? It’s coming back? Good. (I just did the finger gun thing to you)

To Mullet or Not to Mullet

It’s a good thing I don’t have a mullet. This realization came to me while driving home last night, and it has occupied my thoughts ever since. I think the thought process was inspired by a graduation tassel I saw hanging from a presumably recent high school graduate and co-commuter’s rear view mirror.  As we pulled up to a stop light, I saw the tassel sort of tossling back and forth and it occurred to me that it looked a lot like my mullet might look if it were blue and green and I had Class of ’11 shaved in the back of my head.

On second thought, maybe I SHOULD grow a mullet. Go Spartans.

I’m gonna need a longer tape measure.

Have you ever found a diamond encrusted belt buckle in a pile of garbage? How about a shiny 10 dollar bill in an old pair of winter pants? If so, then you will understand the feeling you get when that happens. I guess the best way to describe it would be to say it’s a lot like high fiving awesome while riding a unicorn with the body of an mp3 ready great white shark. This is how I feel today. Let me explain. 

Last night I shaved my neck beard (the part of the beard under the chin line). This morning upon closer examination, I discovered I had missed a spot. Normally, this would be irritating, but today it was magical. I only missed two hairs. Two majestically long and beautifully jet black hairs. At first I was speechless. There they were, gently wafting in the breeze. The light shone off them like a golden dove. This is, undoubtedly, what Tolkien envisioned when he received his inspiration for the Two Towers. Remember Toto? Well my neck is the Serengeti, and the hairs Kilimanjaro- rising majestically like Olympus. On a scale of 1-Awesome, these hairs are a bossinova.

I think it goes with out saying that I am keeping them.  Why wouldn’t I? Think of all the possible uses

• Twirl them around my ears multiple time for an instant Princess Leia costume
• Wrap them around my neck and I’ve got a fashionable and functional scarf
• String some fruit loops on those bad boys and BOOM! Countdown chain
• Portable, instant and reusable tooth floss
• Rope for demonstrating my knot tying skills
• Tie them around my finger to remember something important.

Really, the sky is the limit here. I think the possibilities are limited only by my imagination.

What did your body do for you today?

Fog

It’s foggy this morning in Gravyville and I love it.  It makes me feel extra Jason Bourne-y.   It also seems to put a strange spin on everything.  For example, I am pretty sure I almost got ran over by an old man doing some speed walking through Walmart this morning. He was wearing one of those little Tour de France hats and had wrist bands around his calves.  He was movin’ fast and not stopping for anybody or anything.  I am also pretty sure he also had the body of a shark and the head of a mongoose—but that could be the fog talking.

How to Celebrate a Holiday

People have forgotten how to celebrate a holiday.  What will you be doing this Labor Day weekend?  Going out on the lake one last time?  Family BBQ?  Tackling a list of honey-dos? Blah? How about Blah Blah?  I will be doing none of those.  I know how to celebrate, so sit down and a take a lesson.

Here is my plan:

• Sleep ‘til noon
• Eat
• Put final touches on life-sized papier-mâché Vader
• Orchestrate epic battle scene between Papier-Mâché Vader and Macaroni Skywalker.
• Bask in awesomeness.

Happy 3 day weekend eve

Tricky Meat

It occurred to me this morning that Meat is one tricky food.   First, it disguises itself well in nature.  I want to know who the first guy was who saw this and thought “Hey, if I start hacking away with an axe, I might end up with this  And even after we discovered meat, we knew it only as the slab for many years.  But meat adapted.  It became smarter.  It became the chameleon of the food world.  Genius move disguising itself as a loaf of bread, I mean the name wasn’t real smart– MEATloaf sorta gives it away, but still a solid idea.  Meat also started getting itself into the desert world in the form of Minced Meat pie.  Again, poor name choice—it’s like calling your secret hideout “Secret Hideout.”  But that doesn’t mean it isn’t tricky.

I can vividly remember my first slice of minced meat pie.  After having watched her cat for a week while she was on vacation, a nice neighbor lady invited me over for a “piece of pie”.   What she didn’t mention is that I would not be eating a delicious Apple Pie.  Nor would I be eating cherry, raspberry or even rhubarb.  I would be spooning lumps full of meat flavored trickery straight into my mouth.  “What in sweet heaven’s name is in this pie?” I thought to myself.  “Minced meat pie?  It can’t really be meat, can it?  Can it? A pie with meat in it? Say it ain’t so.”  But it is so.  Meat also has a way of making itself seem like meat that isn’t meat.  I’m talking to you, SPAM.  “Hey, its ok to eat me, I am like meat, but not really.”  Well, actually, that one might be a legit claim.  Who in the ham sammich knows what Spam is?  I can’t stand the stuff.  Its only redeeming quality is that delicious gelatin it comes in.  They oughtta sell that stuff by the case.   What were we talking about again?