Saturday, August 25, 2018

Good shabbos

A friend wrote an email which said "Good Shabbos, mein freund". I figured out the last two words, looked up the first two. I like that concept - a day of rest. I could sure use on about now - getting a bit burned out from work and the thought of actually taking a day off, a day away from it all, might actually be a good thing, assuming I didn't fret about the work I wasn't doing.

Then I read about a Calvanist dog. Well now, maybe that explains some of what I am going through. Where is my stuffed tiger when I need him.

Turns out there is an actual tiger rescue place nearby that I heard about today. I like cats but having been on the receiving end of what a house cat can do when motivated I think I shall forgo interacting with, say, a 500 pound feline. I found it interesting that such cats live in my neck of the woods.

But back to the subject at hand - it is summer and I am trying to make the most of it. Today my cousin got married down on the Delta but I didn't drive over - too much time on the road. That makes me sad as I haven't been there in 50 years and it really would have been good to see her. Maybe she will come up this way and visit. I still have a few stories to tell her about her late father and what a character he was. Here is a picture of what happens when one's arm interacts suddenly with the relatively sharp edge of a spinning walnut bowl:


The walnut chips and dust stanched the bleeding. The bowl has been shipped and should arrive at the bride's house while she is on her honeymoon.


18 comments:

XRay said...

Very nice, SG. The writing, I mean.

The Dude said...

Thanks.

XRay said...

Did anyone here ever read Velociman,(Kim Crawford). He had more twists than a pretzel in his life. A good man, with issues, I hope he's safe. He wrote well, too.

XRay said...

How about "Gut Rumbles".

Dad Bones said...

Blood, Sweat and Tears is where I first heard that song in 1970. Later on I learned it meant a little more to some black singers. Then there was a phrase undoubtedly spoken by a black guy to someone who was pushing it a little too hard, "Take it easy, greasy, you got a long way to slide."

But don't pay any attention to me. I'm an old dog who probably took it too easy.

Dad Bones said...

XRay, I remember Gut Rumbles and have it bookmarked on my old computer which I haven't been able to start for a couple years. I think he's the one who decided he didn't like his new neighbor because his ass was wider than his shoulders, he smoked brown cigarettes, and cut his lawn with an electric mower. Does that sound like the guy?

The Dude said...

I remember reading Gut Rumbles. Now there was a unique voice, eh? I just read that the author, Rob Smith, died in 2006, but some of his work is still online. He used the word "yonder", as did my father. I think that is a Southern thing. I have a neighbor who uses an electric lawn mower. In the rain. He's from Missourah. You have to make allowances, I suppose.

AllenS said...

When a man pursues his hobbies, he should expect injuries. I'm typing with two fingers because of a large band-aid on the tip of my left middle finger.

ndspinelli said...

You are a homeboy.

ricpic said...

Shabbos = Sabbath = The Lord's Day = Day Of Rest

It's not really Saturday. It's actually sundown Friday to sundown Saturday. Orthodox Jews live for it.

The Dude said...

So I learned, ricpic - and even though I am not Orthodox or even unorthodox, I waited until after 3 stars had appeared in the sky to type that story.

AllenS - I have injured my middle finger before - that limited my ability to signal other motorists while I was driving.

Got dat right, my Nicker!

ricpic said...

On the seventh day The Lord rested. But why should men rest on the seventh day? Because they are made in the image of The Lord. That's what is so radical about the Sabbath. Up till then only Chip's beloved Pharaoh was divine. All other men? Nothing. Dust. But once ALL men were stamped in the image of God, well, they could no longer be treated as THINGS.

XRay said...

Rob Smith of Gut Rumbles ran a chemical plant of some sort down in GA. He had had a rather hard time of it for a few years but landed on his feet. He wrote what he thought with passion and sensibility, a voice of the common man, and a good writer.

Kim Crawford's (Velociman) father was a politician of some sort in Southern Georgia, Savannah I think. Rob wrote from a Southern perspective, heat, humidity, chiggers and sweet tea. He even knew the 'Goat Man'. Once a stable guy with a good position in Jacksonville (my hometown) with a wife, adorable daughters... then for some reason it all went to hell. As life sometimes can do, no matter ones druthers. He now only has a simple twitter presence. https://twitter.com/Velociman. He was/is a great writer too.

I only mention the two of them, SG, as they both were writer's of the South. Least ways that's how I took it.

deborah said...

Get that dog an antidepressant STAT!

The Dude said...

Thanks, XRay - I do enjoy the perspective that Southern writers bring to the table. All except Faulkner - I could not make it through two chapters of Absolom, Absolom! - dense, heavy stuff.

As for dogs - I don't ask my dogs who's a good dog, I tell them that they are. Affirmation!

XRay said...

With you on Faulkner, never saw the point. Course I'm a heathen for saying that.

bagoh20 said...

Blood Sweat and Tears was awesome, and thanks to Pandora, I get to relive the old pleasures all the time.

The Dude said...

They were indeed, Bags - they were the sound track for my August in Bloomington Indiana in 1968. Good times.