10.18.2010

Ravings of a Mad Man: vol. 5.37 (Let the history lesson begin) (Not really)

Ravings of a Mad Man: vol. 5.37
It is better to keep your mouth shut and appear stupid then open it and remove all doubt
-Mark Twain

This past Sunday I woke from my slumber with the intense pain of urination. It was dark out and my first thought was, "Oh man, I am getting old if I can't even make it through the night without having to get up and use the restroom." Before jumping to conclusions about my age and my ability to control my urges I checked the clock and realized that it was 7:30 AM. So on a normal day I would have been awake already. This was a load off. I know that there will come a day when I have to take several trips to the bathroom and given my past experiences with sleep and bladder control, Jenny had better hope they have invented some sort of easy to use catheter. It is funny how simple experiences make you reflect about your own existence and what you have accomplished in your life. I feel like in my 28 years on this earth I have accomplished a handful of tasks that have accumulated to a semi-successful life. There is still so much I need to accomplish. For instance, I have been able to touch a lot tame large animals but I am yet to encounter a Bear in the wild or some other vicious animal that could potentially end my life. Nature 1 Eric 0. I have never been to Canada or Mexico for that matter. I don't know which I would rather go to first. I have never been on a horse while chasing bank robbers through the town square or the equivalent of that in modern times. I haven't seen a great white swim by me while in the ocean. I guess the reason I haven't done a lot of these is because they would probably kill me. This leads me to my next question I have thought of a time or two. How will I die? Will I live to be old and simply wither away? Will I die while having my teeth cleaned because the person cleaning my teeth grew tired of my jokes? Or will it happen in some way that the local news channels will say, "In all of my years of reporting I have never seen an accident like this one." Only time will tell. Time what a fickle mistress.

Trivia Time: Nobody knew that the most important date in American History was January 7, 1927 (google it). This week's question is if a man leaves his house on a Sunday and returns home four days later on a Sunday how is this possible?

Jenny likes to do stuff I don't like to do and I like to do stuff Jenny doesn't like to do. Therefore this past Saturday we had a conflict of interests. Jenny had booked a night at the Murder Mystery Theater which I guess is okay with me. The only problem is that Roy Halladay was pitching against Tim Lincecum in game one of the NLCS. And in addition Real was playing against FC Dallas in a battle for second place or possibly first place in the MLS. Needless to say I didn't want to go to a murder mystery dinner. I told Jenny that I also didn't want to sit next to people that I didn't know and have pleasant conversation for a few hours. Well here is what happened. Our table was right next to the stage and we were all asked to be volunteers in the play. Fantastic, so we had on name badges so some of the actors used my name in their little song and dance numbers. I guess I was okay with that but really I just wanted to sit in the corner grumpy thinking of what could have been if I were at home with some nachos. So it is our time to go up on stage, I was wearing a red shirt with white stripes and the actress called me Waldo. So then people from the audience starting calling me Waldo. I guess I am okay with that too however when it came time to venture a guess on who committed the crime somebody had the nerve to accuse me of the murder. The point is I missed the baseball and soccer games but it turned out okay because Jenny was happy and I guess that is the point of my existence, to make Jenny happy I just wish she would be happy watching me be happy watching baseball and soccer.

Have a good week I know I will
Eric Jones


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This message was approved by Eric Jones

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