Monday, December 29, 2008

MAX ON MONDAY!

What y'all get for Christmas? Miss Vero is just thankful that Max didn't get somethin that would shoot his eye out, cause y'all know he's just that kinda fella...






CHAIN CHAIN CHAIN . . . CHAIN OF FOOLS

Max Newport




Before y’all get the idea that Max is getting all uppity and highfalutin while finger pointing at some recent prime examples of idiocy; when someone knocks on my door it is more likely to be a probation officer than a recruiter for Mensa. Before reaching back to Aretha Franklin for a headliner, I did a little search to find the word used to describe a gathering of fools, you know like a “gaggle” of geese, a “pride” of lions, a “murder” of crows, etc., and found this informative website:

http://www.npwrc.usgs.gov/about/faqs/animals/names.htm

You need to be careful how you use some of those terms. “Honey, look over there at that ‘pace’ of asses!”

It was Christmas Eve in the Newport household around 7:30 P.M. and children were hanging their stockings by the chimney with care with hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there and what did their tender young ears suddenly hear? St. Bobby of Bowden tried to remove all their cheer. Mom may or not have been wearing a kerchief, since I’m not even sure what the heck that is, but I was certainly capless (I repeat capless). Even though my head was bare, I was watching my favorite network, ESPN, and the talking heads were doing a live interview with Florida State University’s head football coach, Bobby Bowden. Since Bowden has been coaching at FSU since the Warren G. Harding administration, they decided to ask him about some of his favorite Christmas memories. I was hoping he would share memories of the discovery of fire or what Christmas was like before the emergence of the “horseless carriage”, but no. He mumbled and dadgummed about a few choice presents he received and then unleashed this nugget, "of course that was back when I believed there was a Santa Claus".

Stockings were dropped by the chimney with abandon and soulful eyes peered on the verge of tears. I had to provide comfort by explaining that it was just that crazy old man who always looks lost wandering the sidelines at football games and is always blowing his nose whenever he gets a television close up. Thankfully there was a paper towel nearby so that I could do some exaggerated honks and quickly change the subject, just like the interviewers were trying to do on ESPN. Thanks Coach. In spite of that little snafu, the Newports hope that you coach at FSU for many, many years to come and let’s keep that “head coach in – waiting”, Jimbo Fisher, awaiting for a long, long time. Just don’t mess with Santa.

After calming down the mini-Newports, I drifted over to TCPalm where the list of fools would fill a moderate sized auditorium. They were pushing one of their ever so accurate polls for their readers to vote on what they consider the top local story of 2008. One of the choices, the last one I believe, was; “Jim Mayfield dies after election as tax collector.” Who is manning the control booth here? Stan Mayfield served on our school board for four years, spent eight years as our voice in the Florida House of Representatives and was elected as tax collector in August shortly before he died of cancer at the premature age of 52. I met Stan back in the early 1990’s when he was on the school board and considered him a friend. What an insult to Stan’s memory that after years and years of public service his “hometown” newspaper can’t even remember his name and yet believe that his death is one of the top stories of the year?

Who are these boneheads? The next day, I checked the story again and it was still “Jim” in spite of a spate of reader comments. They have since corrected the error but it was up way too long. Long enough to know that someone forgot to inflate the auto-pilot.

http://www.tcpalm.com/news/2008/dec/23/vote-top-indian-river-county-stories-2008/

It would be charitable to forgive a mistake, but there is not enough space on my hard drive to begin a well needed tirade on the pure garbage produced by the Press Journal. I feel one coming. It is just too bad that the pompous attitude displayed in print and online does not translate to a degree of quality one would care to read. When I was a first grader, I would read the Miami Herald every morning before school. The Press Journal is a paper you want to hide from the kids.

Santa Claus did bring the Newports iPhones for Christmas. It was good to have some kids around to show us how to use them. The instruction leaflet in the box was about as helpful as a fortune cookie. It gave us a website where we could find a 154 page owner’s manual. It is in a PDF format so there is no search (that I am aware of).

So after passing out insults to St. Bowden and the Press Journal, I will say this. When it comes to the iPhone, I am a fool. A capless fool . . . on autopilot. Someone just rang the doorbell.

It must be Mensa. Happy New Year!!!




MWAH!

2 comments:

LDouglas said...

My son got the G1 phone (similar to the iPhone) and was showing us all the neat features. I asked him if he needed to look at the instruction manual and he said no- it's intuitive. Yeah, maybe for him...

The Christmas he was 4 1/2 I told him how Santa would come down the chimney and leave him presents. He told me he just doesn't believe some guy would come down your chimney and leave you presents. So I told him Santa knows if you believe in him or not and if you believed then he was real. If you didn't believe in him then your parents bought you the presents. Then I told him that I sure hope he believes because I didn't buy him any presents. It worked until about age 7. (As far as I know.)

Countess du Roseland said...

What is morality? If we knew, we could lock the warden in a linen closet and go home now. I maintain that morality is really a waste of time, especially when you consider how much time I spend waiting for my dinner to thaw. Time is the problem when it comes to morality. Who has time do the ironing or shovel the walk? One out of every three women do, but they have little time left over for folding their napkins into swans. I'd rather wipe my mouth with my un-ironed sleeve than with an un-swanned napkin. In some areas, people refer to napkins as "serviettes." Does this absolve them from guilt? No! They are still reading the PJ.