Thanksgaving

Here on the day after Thanksgiving, as I practice my annual Black Friday Hermitage...avoiding all contact with the retail world...stand back as I almost reflect on some things that make life livable:

Skyline Chili...Thank you, Nicholas Lambrinides, for bringing your deep-sigh-inducing magic from Kastoria, Greece to Cincinnati, Ohio. (Click here for an up-close and personal look at this culinary delight.)

Captain Philips...Thank you, Tom Hanks, for the last 5 minutes of this film. Your character was on the verge of physical collapse and emotional breakdown, and my heart was racing. I see a third Oscar in your immediate future.

Kotulas.com...Thank you, Guys With the Goods, for having a site that makes me grin, even though I have never, and probably never will, buy anything from you. Somehow, the world seems like a better place, just knowing that I could buy a Beard Head Barbarian Roadie Hat if I wanted to.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy...Thank you, Douglas Adams, for the most hilarious 5-book trilogy ever published. Also, the ONLY 5-book trilogy ever published, but that's beside the point. Or, perhaps, beyond the point. At any rate, it is NOT the point.

Seriously...How Old DO I Look?

Speaking of people thinking I'm older than what I think I come across as being (and we WERE speaking of that; just look here), it has gotten so bad that even FaceBook, which certainly knows my actual factual age (along with my work history, eating habits, and favorite color of undergarment), keeps showing me the following ad, and I can't understand why.

I REALLY AM NOT THAT OLD, OKAY?!!?

Bohemian Joke's On Me

In addition to my chores as a technical writer for Big Brother, Inc. and choreographer/actor/acting coach for Giant Step Theatre, I semi-recently started Working Retail in order to be able to make car payments. It was during an all-too-infrequent lull while Working Retail that I spontaneously began singing: "Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide; no escape from reality..."

My kinky-haired co-worker, TommiBoi, interrupted by asking, "Who sings that?"

Always one willing to educate the masses, I answered, "Queen."

Her quick comeback: "Let's keep it that way."

That gave me a hearty laugh, which surprised her, because she said that jab had been around for a long time.

Still, I was tickled enough by the incident that I told the worship team about it Sunday morning after rehearsal. It was then that the truly delicious dropkick to my ego was administered.

Fellow worship team member and faithful reader, Beckster WhassupWiddat, innocently looked at me and said, "Don't take this the wrong way, but I can't believe no one has ever said that to you before."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

I think I peed a little.

How Old Do I LOOK?!!?

Daughter Number Two, BuckEye, recently posted a list of several places of business that give discounts to People Of A Certain Age...and I'm not talking the to-be-expected threshold of 65, either. No-sirree. There are restaurants that offer, upon request, discounts of 10-20% just because a person has somehow managed to reach the age of 55!

Having just returned from a week of vacation, there were no leftovers in the fridge to take to work for lunch, so I decided to test the validity of BuckEye's sources and went to the local McWenarbellkinway's.

I thought they might want to see my driver's license to verify my age, so I skipped the drive-through and walked inside.

"I'd like a Number Six, large, with the senior discount."

The toddler who was barely standing at the cash register did NOT ask to see my I.D.

She did not do a double-take and go on and on about how I couldn't possibly be 55.

She did absolutely nothing that would make me want to step outside the norm and actually tip a fast food worker.

Dag nabbit.

Mr. Bean to the Rescue

According to @UberFacts (and who would dare doubt that bastion of factitude?), the actor Rowan Atkinson...most well-known for his character, Mr. Bean...once saved a plane from crashing, saving his two children and wife after the pilot passed out.

After exhaustive research (of course, when in research mode, it doesn't take much to exhaust me), I have determined that the incident really did transpire...almost like this:

Mr. Atkinson was being given a tour of the plane and was invited to enter the cockpit. He was having trouble opening the door, and just as he was hitting it with his shoulder for the third time, the door opened and RA fell into the cockpit, not only knocking the pilot forward...putting the small plane into what could be kindly called "a rapid descent", but what most learned professionals would conservatively estimate to be "a nosedive of doom"...but also knocking the pilot well out of the state-of-being widely-known as "consciousness".

A frantic patting of the pilot's hands soon changed to slapping his face, which progressed to shaking him violently; none of which brought the short-term coma to an end. A glass of water was procured from the horrified flight attendant and emptied into the pilot's face. Well, Mr. Atkinson tried to splash the pilot's face, but only succeeded in dowsing the control panel, which immediately began to sputter, spark, and emit an acrid smoke.

Infused with both a sudden and false sense of competency, RA grabbed the plane's yoke (i.e., steering wheel thingy) and pulled it back in an attempt to bring the plane out of its dive. He was immediately successful at having the yoke break off into his hands. Not knowing what to do with the now-useless bit of hardware, he tossed the broken yoke over his shoulder, hitting the hovering flight attendant and knocking her into the previously-superfluous co-pilot's steering wheel thingy, which pulled the plane out of its kamikaze impersonation.

At just that moment, the shorted control panel shut down the engine and the small plane glided safely to a landing in the drive-through lane of a local Taco Juanita.

When the pilot regained consciousness, he had no memory of what caused the incident and bought (mister) bean burritos for everyone involved. Muy bueno!