Breaking Tradition

Joyce and I have rituals -- probably because we’re both so brain-dead we can’t remember what we’re supposed to be doing if it isn’t what we always do. The only other possible explanation is we're Catholics and don't know it.

Anyway, one of our rituals is a conversation we have whenever I’m ready to leave the office. I call home and (thanks to caller ID) Joyce knows that I’m the one ringing her line, so she answers with her traditional liturgy.

You see, I usually take the train, but sometimes I'll drive, so (after one close call when I almost rode the train home -- thus abandoning my car in a downtown Dallas parking lot) we've mutually agreed to discuss my mode of transportation before I set out. Since I usually have a train to catch, we keep the conversation brief. Yesterday Joyce again answered with her usual one word question:
Joyce: "Train?"

But rather than replying as protocol dictates, "Train!" I spiced it up with:
Bob: "Hi, beautiful! How was your day?"

That stumped her:
Joyce: "Uhhhh ... Who is this? And How do you know I’m beautiful over the phone?"

Bob: "It's the guy you've been sleeping with. Your pretty face is the one thing I won't ever forget. By the way, I’m taking the train -- see you soon."

Joyce: {Sigh} "I love you, you know."

Bob: "Love you more."

The Roads Are Treacherous ... So They Say

No doubt you've heard that the Dallas-Fort Worth area got an all-time-record 12.5 inches of snow yesterday. And last night all the TV weathermen were warning us that the streets and highways in the area would be treacherous this morning, but I didn't believe them. In fact I'm still skeptical.

I mean, who would imagine that roadways are even capable of treachery? If any object is to be suspected of double-dealing, it would be my lawn. Just two weeks ago I fertilized it and lavished it with pre-emergent herbicide. In return, it brightened to a promising green and thickened to such an extent that this past weekend it enticed me to mow it. But now it mocks me beneath a thick blanket of snow. Considering that the lawn owes its very existence to me (not to mention the debt it's incurred from all the tender care I've given it lately), I'd say such conduct goes way beyond treacherous ... to treasonous.

So I say: "Nay! Don't believe all those televised meteorologist who accuse the roads of being treacherous. It's the lawns who'll stab you in the back!"



UPDATE: Thanks go to my bride for pointing out this video that makes the point about the hyperbole of TV weathermen and reporters so much better than I can.