Tag Archives: Humor

Mom’s Most Memorable Meal

Today as I prepare a million different dishes for Thursday’s feast, I thought I’d share (for a second time) another family story, about the year my Mom forgot her turkey.  I’m pretty sure you’ll buy fresh from now on.  I certainly do!


It seems like just the other day that I was talking about folks to whom strange things just happen.  Maybe that’s because it was just the other day that I told this story.

I have a secret, though.  I’m not the only person in my family with this, ummm, gift for attracting the strange and humorous.  Dad used to say that if there was a weirdo within 5 miles of him, that weirdo would find Dad and have a nice long chat.  But if something weird was going to happen, well, it would happen to Mom.  Somehow I managed to inherit both weirdness magnets.  Sigh.

But this is Mom’s story.

Mom wasn’t the bird lover in our family.  Dad was.  So I should have known something weird had happened when Mom identified a bird I was looking at from a distance.  Mom and Dad were visiting John and I in Connecticut.  She and I were driving not far from our house one day in about 1990, and I pulled over to look at the large birds circling above us.  Back then large predatory birds soaring were still an unusual sight — when I saw those large silhouettes, I always assumed they were eagles.  I mean, what else could it be?  I kept trying to get a good look.

“They’re turkey vultures,” Mom said with complete certainty.  “We see them all the time at home in Florida.”

You lookin' for me? (Google image, natch)

They weren’t eagles?
(Google image, natch)

Turkey vultures?” I said, not believing her for a minute.  I’d never even heard of such a creature.  Mom pursed her lips and looked back at me, slightly annoyed that I was questioning her (never seen before) bird identification skills.

I should have been suspicious.  I should have know there was a story behind Mom’s new-found large bird expertise.  I should have known that something weird was involved.

“They’re really big.  And up close, they really do look just like turkeys.”

“When did you ever get ‘up close’ to a turkey vulture, Mom?”

She tried to avoid the question.

“Mom….” It was never too hard to get Mom to tell her stories.  Something else we have in common.  “Fess up…”

“It wasn’t my fault.  That refrigerator at home is just too small.”


“Well, it happened last Thanksgiving, but I didn’t want to tell you,” she laughed.  “I knew I’d never hear the end of it.”

“Mom …”

“Dad and I went to the grocery store on Saturday, as usual, the weekend before Thanksgiving,” she continued.  “And we bought a frozen turkey for Thanksgiving Dinner.”

“OK.”  I wasn’t catching on.

“Well, it was a frozen turkey.  Frozen solid.  You know it takes days to thaw those things.  You might as well try to melt an iceberg.  I put it into the roasting pan and placed it on the counter to thaw.  But I kept having to move it around that tiny kitchen to do anything else.  Then, on Sunday night when I was making dinner, I needed my counter.  So I put the still rock hard turkey into the carport.”

“Mom, doesn’t your carport get pretty warm?  It is in Florida, after all.”

“Well, that wasn’t really the problem,” she said, laughing.  “Not exactly, anyhow.  Or not at first.  The problem was that I forgot I’d left the turkey there.  I woke up Thursday morning, ready to get started on Thanksgiving Dinner and couldn’t find my turkey!  I thought I was going nuts.  I knew we had bought one.  ‘Where’d you put my turkey?’ I asked your father, accusingly.  ‘I didn’t do anything with it.  Did it get up and walk away?’ he asked.  And then I remembered – ‘Oh Lord, it’s in the carport.  I hope it’s still OK to eat.’”

“I went out the door to find the carport  filled with turkey vultures–I don’t even know how many were in there.  They were sitting on the car, on the workbench.  On the floor.  Everywhere!  And you know, they really do look just like turkeys.  They have those red heads and bulging eyes.  They had torn the packaging apart and were eating our Thanksgiving turkey!  I sent your father out to shoo them all away.  And then he had to go to Publix to get something for our feast.”

I roared.  So did she, remembering.

“I told him to get a piece of beef to roast.  I’d had enough birds for a while.”

Mom was absolutely right.  Turkey vultures look a whole lot like turkey turkeys.  Especially after they’ve just had Thanksgiving dinner.

Oh, and her instinct was right — she should never have told me this story.  She never did hear the end of it!

HAPPY THANKSGIVING to my fellow ‘Mericans!

To those who aren’t over indulging this week, can I send you a few pounds?


Filed under 'Merica, Adult Traumas, Bat-shit crazy, Bloggin' Buddies, Conspicuous consumption, Cool people, Crazy family members, Diet tips, Disgustology, Driving, Family, History, Holidays, Huh?, Humiliation, Humor, laughter, Love, Missing Folks, Mom, Mom would die of embarrassment, Oh shit, Pets, Wild Beasts, WTF?

Hey Doc? Do I Have To?

You know, there may be a good reason why the GOP hates science.

Sometimes it is just plain gross.

As a dog lover, my “gross-me-out-the-door” threshold is actually quite high — I can stand some pretty gross things.  Only today my dog Duncan did the following:

  • Drank from the toilet
  • Licked his genitals with relish*
  • Ate poop

Let’s face it.  Dogs are gross.

But we humans?  We are gonna give these pups a run for their, ummm, money.  Their kibble.  Actually, I’d like to give Duncan a run for that pair of shoes he’s always stealing, but that’s another story for another day.

Today’s story involves poop.

Remember last January when I told you guys all about how you can make big bucks with your butts?  Really!  I did! With this post:

Need Extra Cash?

Are you so rich that you’ve forgotten this already?  Forgotten that I told you that you can clean up by donating your poop so that it can be transplanted into

Poor suckers infected with c difficile, particularly nasty bacteria that is really hard to get rid of.

I even provide a chart by which you can measure just how useful you’re being:

Credit (if you want to call it that) Washington Post

Credit (if you want to call it that) Washington Post

The idea behind poop transplants, in case you’ve forgotten, is that scientists believe that we’ve made our guts too clean — we have too few of the good bacteria that lead to healthy poop left inside our guts.

Today I have an update!  Wait, wait!  Keep your pants on!

Unfortunately, this update will not increase your revenue making opportunities.  Still, scientific advances are awesome.

Because now, thanks to scientific advancements, those same poor suckers can now eat shit! 

Really! I read it in the New York Times:

Fecal Transplants Made (Somewhat) More Palatable

There is a  non-profit organization called OpenBiome that is dedicated to providing poop transplants to needy patients with c difficile.  And they came up with a poop pill.  These poop pills will go a long way towards flushing out the bacteria.

Wait!  Wait!   No they don’t!  They flush in good bacteria.  I mean you eat poop pills with good bacteria in them.  And probably some of the nasty stuff too.  Like poop.

And some day, poop pills may be available for folks like me with Crohn’s Disease and other crappy GI diseases.  They are testing poop transplants in folks even as we speak.


Photo: Erik Jacobs for the New York Times

Photo: Erik Jacobs for the New York Times

Personally, I’m keeping a close eye out on this treatment option.  Because with my Crohn’s Disease, some day I might just have to say, “Hey Doc, do I have to?”

* For the record, I do not put relish on my dog’s genitals.  Duncan is not a dachshund.


Filed under Adult Traumas, Advice from an Expert Patient, All The News You Need, Bat-shit crazy, Being an asshole, Chronic Disease, Conspicuous consumption, Crohn's Disease, Diet tips, Dogs, Extra Cash, Family, Gas, Good Deed Doers, Health, Health and Medicine, Hey Doc?, Huh?, Humiliation, Humor, I Can't Get No, Illness, keys to success, laughter, Mysteries, Pets, Poop, Science, Seriously funny, Shit, Shit happens, Taking Care of Each Other, Technology, Toilets, WTF?

We Are Not Alone!

Last week, I read Bloggess Jenny Lawson’s new book Furiously Happy.

Image from Amazon.com

Image from Amazon.com

Furiously Happy deals with Jenny’s mental health issues, how she copes with them, and, importantly how they help make her the person she is.  It is truly a gift to folks with anxiety, depression, other mental health issues (and to those who care about them).  It shows them that they’re not alone.

The blurb on the flap sums it up pretty well:

This is a book about embracing everything that makes us who we are – the beautiful and the flawed – and then using it to find joy in fantastic and outrageous ways. Because as Jenny’s mom says, “Maybe ‘crazy’ isn’t so bad after all.” Sometimes crazy is just right.

While Furiously Happy is geared towards folks with mental illness, I came away from the book feeling comforted about my physical illness, Crohn’s Disease.  Because Furiously Happy reminded me that other people — probably everyone, in fact — struggles through life with something.   And that’s why we all — every one of use — need each other. 

Because no matter what each of us is facing, we’re not alone.

Plus, the book is hilarious.  You will rarely enjoy mental illness quite this much.

Oh, and go read her most recent blog post, which had me laughing for hours last night.  It is a compendium of awkward moments sent to the Bloggess via Twitter.



Filed under Adult Traumas, Advice from an Expert Patient, All The News You Need, Bat-shit crazy, Bloggin' Buddies, Books, Chronic Disease, Crazy family members, Crohn's Disease, Family, Farts, Friends, Good Deed Doers, Health, Health and Medicine, Hey Doc?, Huh?, Humor, Illness, laughter, Love, Mental Health, Oh shit, Seriously funny, Shit, Taking Care of Each Other, Wild Beasts, Writing, WTF?

Customer Service

Today, my son Jacob is taking his very first airplane trip alone.  So of course I woke up wondering if John and I had told him everything he needed to know before hand.

It was a very early morning flight, so he’d arranged to stay with a friend near the airport and take a cab from there.  When I woke up, I immediately checked up on him.  Err, in on him.

He was at the airport in plenty of time, and had even found his gate.  But I could feel his eyes rolling from across the miles when I suggested he sit at the gate and not move until they called his flight.

Because once I made the mistake of not doing that …


It was March 31, 1997, and my mother had died the day before. John, Jacob and I picked up my sister Beth who lived not far away, and they dropped the two of us off at National Airport, to take our flight south to Florida to help Dad with the funeral arrangements.  To be there with him.  John and Jacob would follow in a few days.

“The Terminal is under construction, so leave yourselves extra time to get to the gate,” John warned us as he said good-bye.

Yes, National Airport’s Terminal A was a complete mess.  There were barricades everywhere, dust, dirt, grime.  The air was thick with it.

We found the US Airways desk conveniently located just outside of an Au Bon Pain.

Google Image

Google Image

We got some drinks and sat down at a table.  I took a seat facing the US Airways desk, with the information about our flight scrolling across the top.

Like every shy person I’ve ever known when they’re with someone they know, Beth began talking and kept on.  She talked about Mom, about being a kid, told stories that I had heard, and ones I hadn’t.  It was really wonderful, just sitting there.  Neither of us wanted to be going to Florida.   Neither of course, wanted to be motherless, either.

I kept looking at my watch, and at the information desk, which kept displaying information about our flight.  I was just about to go and check, when the display began giving information about another flight.

“Grab your stuff, Beth,” I said over my shoulder as I headed to the desk to find out what was going on.  We hadn’t heard any announcement.  Fortunately, Beth was right behind me.

“Ma’m,” I said to one of the two women at the desk, holding out my boarding pass. “What happened to Flight 183 to Ft. Myers?”

“That flight just pulled away from the terminal.”

NO!!!!!! BRING IT BACK!!!” I shouted, with a voice full of all the pain of my loss, “IT’S FOR MY MOTHER’S FUNERAL!!!!”

I began to sob.  Loudly.  In the empty airport terminal, my sobs echoed off the ceiling.

“Lease,” Beth said, starting to console me, “It’ll be OK.”

I got what we call the “sup-sups” — where you can’t stop crying, and you can’t quite breathe either.  I couldn’t stop.

The clerks looked at one another.  One grabbed the phone, the other grabbed my arm and pulled me.

“The gate is down here,” and she ran with me, my sister right behind us.

The gate was, in fact, a long fucking way away.  Miles, it seemed.  WTF?

We got there just as they had clicked the landing tunnel back into place.  They opened the door and we ran down it to the plane.

US Airways had brought the plane back so I could get to my mother’s funeral.



As Beth and I moved down the aisle, I was still trying to catch my breath, still trying to stop crying.

Heads were turning, as the other passengers were trying to figure out just who we were, and why we were important enough to bring the plane back for.  (And now doubt that if we were so damn important, why were we in coach.”

But another problem emerged.  Someone was in my seat.

There were dozens of seats on the plane.  But in my rather frantic state, I wanted my seat.

“There are lots of seats, Lease,” said Beth.  “Here, we can sit here.  Or here.”

But I made the person move.

Beth sat next to me as I shook and wept the whole trip.  “We nearly missed Mom’s funeral,” I said, again and again.

“It’s OK, Lease,” she’d say, shaking her head.  “We made it.”


I never got the names of the two US Airways desk clerks who helped us.  I did write an incredibly nice letter to the company, though, giving times and flight numbers in the hopes that they learned how much their kindness meant to me.

I’ve always been amazed that a big company, which no doubt faces things like this every day, would demonstrate such kindness.

But Beth said they just wanted to shut me up.  And you know, she may have been right.


Filed under Adult Traumas, Bat-shit crazy, Crazy family members, Family, Friends, Good Deed Doers, Huh?, Humiliation, Humor, Love, Missing Folks, Mom, Mom would die of embarrassment, Most Embarassing Moments Evah!, Oh shit, Sisters, Taking Care of Each Other, Travel Stories, US Airways, Why the hell do I tell you these stories?, Wild Beasts, WTF?

Other Useful Technologies

One of my favorite things about blogging, is that often, my bloggin’ buddies often give me the opportunity to tell stories that I don’t have the opportunity to tell.

Like this one.

Now you know that I had a wonderful childhood. As the youngest of five, somehow, I never felt unwanted, no matter what was going on. Except once.*

As I entered the kitchen, I noticed that my mom and two sisters, Beth and Judy, were sitting at the kitchen table, discussing anatomy.  Female anatomy to be precise..  They were discussing “holes.”  Their holes.

This might be a good time for guys to switch to another blog.

Yes, Mom, Beth and Judy were sitting at the kitchen table talking about their holes. Both of their holes.  The TWO holes in their nether regions.

I was 7 years old, and very confused.

“But …” I started saying …

They didn’t want to listen.  They continued talking, ignoring me.

Panic started to rise in me.

“But … but … listen  to me!!!” I finally practically shouted.

They all turned to me and Beth said, “OK, Lease.  What do you want to say.”

I looked around the table and said softly, in fear:

I have three holes!  There’s the one I pee through, the one I poop through, and one in the middle that doesn’t do anything.  Don’t you guys have three?”  Panic was building in me as I realized that the three of them just continued to looked at me.  Judy rolled her eyes.  She smirked.

“Nope.  You’re just weird, Lease,” said Judy.

They all looked at me, blankly, until finally I left, taking my incomprehensible extra hole with me.  And let me tell you that I was baffled about that opening for years.

For more than 50 years, I’ve wondered what that conversation was actually about. Over the years, I asked many times, but since the incident didn’t scar any of them for life, so they’d long since forgotten.

Now what does this story have to do with blogging and blogging buddies?

Well only yesterday my buddy Alice, of Coffee and a Blank Page commented on my blog piece, Tush Technologies  and linked to an article more or less on this subject. Well, on the subject of vaginas, anyhow.  Weird technological things about hoo-hahs to be exact.

‘Smart’ menstrual cup sends texts about your flow

Now I didn’t know that there was such a thing as a “menstrual cup” either.  Apparently I haven’t changed much since I was 7.  These new (to the extent anything used for Eve’s Curse can be considered “new”), more environmentally friendly collection devices.  You can shove a cup into your box at the requisite time and, well, fill er up!

But according to the article that Alice sent me, there were draw backs with the cups.  I’m sure you saw the problem leaking through, didn’t you.

Well, there was a problem Until Now.  Because there is now smart, ummm, cootch, technology to keep that cup from runneth-ing over. 

If I’m reading the article right, it will tell your smart phone when you need to, umm, dump.

Ain’t technology grand?

I don’t know exactly why, but this article made me think of something from another  bloggin’ buddy, Father Kaine of The Last of the Milleniums.


* OK, I will admit I didn’t feel completely welcome that time when I was pushing into my newly married sister Beth’s bedroom when she’d pulled the bookcase in front of the door, either.


Filed under Adult Traumas, Advice from an Expert Patient, All The News You Need, Awards, Bat-shit crazy, Bloggin' Buddies, Childhood Traumas, Conspicuous consumption, Disgustology, Family, Health, Health and Medicine, History, Huh?, Humiliation, Humor, I Can't Get No, laughter, Mom would die of embarrassment, Most Embarassing Moments Evah!, Oh shit, Out Damn Spot!, Science, Seriously funny, Shit, Shit happens, Sisters, Stupidity, Toilets, Why the hell do I tell you these stories?, WTF?

Tush Technology

You guys know that I’m all about news.

You guys also know that I’m all about bathrooms.

Today, I am about bathroom news.  Eat your heart out, Fox News!

Today, I am, well, not proud to tell you about this, exactly.  Not pleased to tell you about it, exactly, either.

Today I am ummm, well, I’m just gonna tell you that technology has gone straight to the crapper.

Because there is now a gizmo that will tell you when you have to go to the bathroom.  In case you didn’t know.

I’m so ashamed that I’ve been doing it the old fashioned way for all this time.


Filed under Adult Traumas, Advice from an Expert Patient, All The News You Need, Bat-shit crazy, Chronic Disease, Conspicuous consumption, Crohn's Disease, Disgustology, Farts, Flatulence, Health, Health and Medicine, Huh?, Humiliation, Humor, Oh shit, Out Damn Spot!, Poop, praying, Satisfaction, Seriously funny, Shit, Stupidity, Toilets, Why the hell do I tell you these stories?, Wild Beasts, WTF?

My Candidate for Speaker of the House

I understand that things are a bit wonky over there in the GOP-led House of Representatives.  And by “wonky” I mean “ungovernable.”

So I figured I’d offer the GOP a suggestion:


Nancy Pelosi — Google Image


Whaddaya think?  Am I on to something?


Filed under 2016, 2nd Amendment, Abortion, Adult Traumas, All The News You Need, All We Are Saying Is Give Peace A Chance, Awards, Bat-shit crazy, Beating that Dead Horse, Campaigning, Cancer on Society, Climate Change, Crazy Folks Running, Criminal Activity, Disgustology, Do GOP Voters Actually THINK?, Dreams, Elections, Good Deed Doers, GOP, GOP Government Shutdown, Gun control, Huh?, Humiliation, Humor, I Can't Get No, Mental Health, Most Embarassing Moments Evah!, Negotiating, Oh shit, Politics, Pooders, Poop, praying, Shit happens, Stupidity, Taking Care of Each Other, Where does the GOP get these guys?, Wild Beasts, WTF?