Thursday, August 26, 2010

Some Things Are Funny - Some Are Not

I just invested a couple hours enjoying some of the late George Carlin's remarkable wit and wisdom by way of YouTube.

Here are links to a few of the best.

George Carlin's Tonight Show Performance featuring his take on modern words and expressions cracks me up.every time I view (and hear) it

Bet you can't get through that video without laughing.

Also, Global Warming is another Carlin diatribe that is worth hearing and thinking about.

Also, George Carlin's (extremely profane) Politically Incorrect revelation regarding Fat People

And finally, George Carlin's Greatest Moment

. . .

A short article about jam made with raspberries and sugar, nothing more, has prompted me to try my hand at cooking up a batch and finding out whether or not I can do it justice.

If I do prepare this tempting dish I will report on it here on this blog. If not, I probably won't.

. . .

Over at Rensselaer Adventures just below the picture of a bicyclist on a country highway, the blogger wrote: "There are so many interesting stories all around us and we hear so few of them."

And that statement is so true. As I daily walk along the roads here in East Tucson many men, women, children, animals, and many trees and rocks, and distant mountains all fall within my view, and each one of them is a character existing within a specific scene in a unique personal story. And those particular stories will never be heard or read unless I decide to tell or write them.

That is one monstrous responsibility.

. . .

I don't feel much like blogging today. Feel like reading.

1 comment:

  1. Your comments regarding passing by stories each day strike me at a pivotal moment in my own life. Yesterday, while taking my daily, medicinal walk, I pondered the same idea. As I sat on a downtown bench to take a break, I watched two old men -- old like me, that is -- discuss how much water a young tree required in order to survive the waning summer weeks.

    One of the two men had planted this tree curbside, in front of his gun shop, a shop that only he seems to occupy most days. He explained to his friend, who wore a sweat-stained railroader's cap, that his initial estimate of one gallon of water per day turned out to be a woeful diet for the tree. "Now I'm trying to afford two gallons per day," said the gun shop owner to his visitor." "Yep," said the railroad retiree. "That's a lot of water to afford."

    Neither man seemed to notice me sitting just a few steps away from where they stood. I considered that their story had little to do with watering an adolescent tree and much more to do with the nature of a longstanding friendship.

    Of course, lives these days appear to me to be so fast and flashed that I doubt that any reader would care to read this story. Except, that is, for me. Me, these days I enjoy walking through my hometown, sitting on occasional wooden benches along the way, and listening to stories that in my younger years I almost always missed.

    So thanks, Gene. Because I read your words this morning, and because I nowadays own the luxury to entertain my slower mind, I'll today take another walk; and rather than search for stories, I'll admit them if they arrive.