Keith, thank you for letting us non-golfers know that carts on the putting green “violate regulations,” as should LIV violate PGA regulations. As for any other comparisons between our president and the former (and continuing) horror, can we do childish tantrums versus experience and diplomacy? or love and honor versus ignorance and cupid…
Keith, thank you for letting us non-golfers know that carts on the putting green “violate regulations,” as should LIV violate PGA regulations. As for any other comparisons between our president and the former (and continuing) horror, can we do childish tantrums versus experience and diplomacy? or love and honor versus ignorance and cupidity? And I never got in “mafia boss,” which if he were a bit less stupid and childish, I would have.
To have put climate change so prominently into his speech yesterday is the best proof of the quality of our president and his team!
Virginia As a non-golfer, I have heard from my golfer friends that driving a golf cart onto the putting green is akin to putting a turd in a drink at the 19th hole. They also tell me that Trump is #1 in cheating on the golf course. Perhaps Donnie could get an exemption for ‘turding’ on the putting green, if he provided the medical documentation that obtained for him a bone-spur exemption from the military.
🤣🤣🤣 Thank you. As we had our first in town tornado warning yesterday, the laugh is good. Hoping you don’t object to emojis. I don’t forget the W exemption either and saw the W-Putin photos on TV yesterday. Looking forward to Helsinki “reminiscences” today! Now to write more GOTV postcards to Ohio.
Keith, I learned irreverence over a lifetime and your mad life (let’s face it, neither of us has been stultified by etiquette), which very statement is bringing up more than one laugh. So glad you didn’t play golf - at least you won’t be tempted to hit the links with a cart and your two lethal canes - but have retained your brutally slashing sense of humor. The Greeks were right about the gods laughing. What else would a god do recognizing his/her,etc., helplessness.
As the floods get wilder I think of what the Founding Fathers believed (for most of them anyway the universe was set and kept turning) then of Shakespeare and the storms in the universe are reflected in the hearts of men (or was it Vice versa?).
And yes, laugh and the world laughs with you; weep and you weep alone. Do you know who said that? Learned it as a child.
Virginia As Flip Wilson, in the Church of Here and Now, phrased it “The devil made me do it.” “Laugh and the world laughs with you. Weep, and you pee alone.”
How did we get devils in here? Do you know Sam Gross from The New Yorker or elsewhere? Aptly named and a prize of gross or sometimes charming wit. One of my favorites of the latter persuasion is a dog in a sedan chair with his long ears blowing in the wind. Trying to think how to delicately write to you about the one that Bob Mancoff at a Chicago Humanities presentation in the days of the ISIS atrocities told the audience about saying he couldn’t publish it. Of course I asked Sam for a copy. It’s St. Peter with those who blew themselves up for houris, so maybe you can guess from there. (Necessary to put the bits back together before you get the houris.)
Virginia Humor got me through the tough days in the Congo. One day my boss and I were looking at a map of Congo and one of us mentioned A Congolese army sweep through an area. Then we both burst out in laughter. Shortly before a Congolese battalion drove into a defensive battle position, turned around their trucks, and left the engines running. After the first shot, they skedaddled, and, perhaps, set a Guinness Book of World Records retreating over 200 miles in a single day.
I learned about ‘Make my day’ long before the movies. One morning at 3 a.m. as I was going to be left in a Congo-infested province, at the airport a Marine lt. Col. refused to provide me K rations. I had to tell him who his boss was (my ambassador, with whom I was then residing). I told him to call the ambassador, he demurred, and I got my K rations. Bizarre world. Later that day an army colonel lent me his M-16 as I went into Kindu, where mercenaries were dislodging rebel soldiers. I captured several, had a mercenary priest accompany me to a field hospital with the prisoners, and I threw away the M 16, since it didn’t seem smart to put it in the back of the Jeep with the prisoners. Driving with a .45 in my right hand was a bit awkward.
Later the colonel, safely ensconced in Bukavu, while I was risking my life in Kindu, said I was in deep shit for losing an M-16. I said that the rifle was checked out in his name and I would try to visit him in Leavenworth. I chuckled when I said this.
When I returned to the embassy with two sacks of captured rebel military hdtrs files, the Foreign Service Officers were put off by my clothes and my odor. [I had volunteered to fly out with White House authority to do what those jerks didn’t do—get off their asses and get boots on the ground.] By contrast, the ambassador sent my reports by FLASH to DC.
Incidentally, the artichokes in Bukavu were delicious.
Braggart! But I am laughing before i finish dressing. Beware of Keith with Canes all ye who think old men aren’t dangerous!
I still remember my first artichoke and you inspire me to look for more. If I could bake my 89th birthday cake, I can still prepare artichokes. What did you have for sauce, or do you eat without?
Virginia Back when I was a wee pup hollandaise sauce was my preference. Much later melted butter. There was a sharp difference between large artichokes and the baby ones in eastern Congo and Chile, where they were served as appetizers.
When I was living in New York City, after leaving at 6 and returning home about 7:30 pm I was known to just have a large artichoke for dinner—delicious.
Ditto with hollandaise. Recipe for mock hollandaise in Fanny Farmer edition 10 which I must copy. Rich enough, but not much butter. If an artichoke was your dinner, then my mental picture of you is probably correct: lean and mean! (It rhymes!)
Keith, thank you for letting us non-golfers know that carts on the putting green “violate regulations,” as should LIV violate PGA regulations. As for any other comparisons between our president and the former (and continuing) horror, can we do childish tantrums versus experience and diplomacy? or love and honor versus ignorance and cupidity? And I never got in “mafia boss,” which if he were a bit less stupid and childish, I would have.
To have put climate change so prominently into his speech yesterday is the best proof of the quality of our president and his team!
Hoping you’re continuing well, sir.
Virginia As a non-golfer, I have heard from my golfer friends that driving a golf cart onto the putting green is akin to putting a turd in a drink at the 19th hole. They also tell me that Trump is #1 in cheating on the golf course. Perhaps Donnie could get an exemption for ‘turding’ on the putting green, if he provided the medical documentation that obtained for him a bone-spur exemption from the military.
🤣🤣🤣 Thank you. As we had our first in town tornado warning yesterday, the laugh is good. Hoping you don’t object to emojis. I don’t forget the W exemption either and saw the W-Putin photos on TV yesterday. Looking forward to Helsinki “reminiscences” today! Now to write more GOTV postcards to Ohio.
Virginia You bring great joy in my life as we both relish an irreverent sense of humor. Laugh and the good folks laugh with you.
Keith, I learned irreverence over a lifetime and your mad life (let’s face it, neither of us has been stultified by etiquette), which very statement is bringing up more than one laugh. So glad you didn’t play golf - at least you won’t be tempted to hit the links with a cart and your two lethal canes - but have retained your brutally slashing sense of humor. The Greeks were right about the gods laughing. What else would a god do recognizing his/her,etc., helplessness.
As the floods get wilder I think of what the Founding Fathers believed (for most of them anyway the universe was set and kept turning) then of Shakespeare and the storms in the universe are reflected in the hearts of men (or was it Vice versa?).
And yes, laugh and the world laughs with you; weep and you weep alone. Do you know who said that? Learned it as a child.
Virginia As Flip Wilson, in the Church of Here and Now, phrased it “The devil made me do it.” “Laugh and the world laughs with you. Weep, and you pee alone.”
How did we get devils in here? Do you know Sam Gross from The New Yorker or elsewhere? Aptly named and a prize of gross or sometimes charming wit. One of my favorites of the latter persuasion is a dog in a sedan chair with his long ears blowing in the wind. Trying to think how to delicately write to you about the one that Bob Mancoff at a Chicago Humanities presentation in the days of the ISIS atrocities told the audience about saying he couldn’t publish it. Of course I asked Sam for a copy. It’s St. Peter with those who blew themselves up for houris, so maybe you can guess from there. (Necessary to put the bits back together before you get the houris.)
Virginia Humor got me through the tough days in the Congo. One day my boss and I were looking at a map of Congo and one of us mentioned A Congolese army sweep through an area. Then we both burst out in laughter. Shortly before a Congolese battalion drove into a defensive battle position, turned around their trucks, and left the engines running. After the first shot, they skedaddled, and, perhaps, set a Guinness Book of World Records retreating over 200 miles in a single day.
I learned about ‘Make my day’ long before the movies. One morning at 3 a.m. as I was going to be left in a Congo-infested province, at the airport a Marine lt. Col. refused to provide me K rations. I had to tell him who his boss was (my ambassador, with whom I was then residing). I told him to call the ambassador, he demurred, and I got my K rations. Bizarre world. Later that day an army colonel lent me his M-16 as I went into Kindu, where mercenaries were dislodging rebel soldiers. I captured several, had a mercenary priest accompany me to a field hospital with the prisoners, and I threw away the M 16, since it didn’t seem smart to put it in the back of the Jeep with the prisoners. Driving with a .45 in my right hand was a bit awkward.
Later the colonel, safely ensconced in Bukavu, while I was risking my life in Kindu, said I was in deep shit for losing an M-16. I said that the rifle was checked out in his name and I would try to visit him in Leavenworth. I chuckled when I said this.
When I returned to the embassy with two sacks of captured rebel military hdtrs files, the Foreign Service Officers were put off by my clothes and my odor. [I had volunteered to fly out with White House authority to do what those jerks didn’t do—get off their asses and get boots on the ground.] By contrast, the ambassador sent my reports by FLASH to DC.
Incidentally, the artichokes in Bukavu were delicious.
Oh what a lovely war!
Braggart! But I am laughing before i finish dressing. Beware of Keith with Canes all ye who think old men aren’t dangerous!
I still remember my first artichoke and you inspire me to look for more. If I could bake my 89th birthday cake, I can still prepare artichokes. What did you have for sauce, or do you eat without?
Virginia Back when I was a wee pup hollandaise sauce was my preference. Much later melted butter. There was a sharp difference between large artichokes and the baby ones in eastern Congo and Chile, where they were served as appetizers.
When I was living in New York City, after leaving at 6 and returning home about 7:30 pm I was known to just have a large artichoke for dinner—delicious.
Ditto with hollandaise. Recipe for mock hollandaise in Fanny Farmer edition 10 which I must copy. Rich enough, but not much butter. If an artichoke was your dinner, then my mental picture of you is probably correct: lean and mean! (It rhymes!)