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Get off my LAWN! "Grumpy Old Farts"

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Standard poodles (50#) are held to be very smart, and I find this to be completely true. "Did not know" is no longer accepted at this register.

My dog had some poodle breeding in him, desirable for intelligence. Sometimes a little too smart for his own good. Like faking a sore paw until he got what he wanted then miraculously he could walk on it.
 
My 'bitter half' had a very large(95#,not fat)Irish Setter. They're known for being dumb. He was as dumb as you'd let him be. Otherwise, pretty smart.

My second to last dog was a Dalmation. Stupid as a box of rocks. I guess you must be missing a few cells to willingly run into a burning building for apparently no good reason. Firefighters are on the other hand very intelligent as rescuing and battling fires takes smarts. He was replaced with a minny schnauzer. Smartest dog I have ever experienced. We had conversations on the stock market after he brought me the paper. 2nd wife got him in the divorce. I miss him. Not her.
;[)
Bob
 
Here's some nice clothes for your gig in 1976. Nice shoes!

sears 1976.jpg
 
In the late 70's early 80's(the great migration from SE Asia) the CDC and WHO published a survey that the stray dog and cat populations had dropped 40 to 45 per cent in North America. That is significant because a drop like that hadn't occurred since the worst days of the depression.
I was going to be a history teacher before I received my notice.
Bob
I became a history teacher after my discharge.
 
In 1976 I was a further outlier with my custom English riding boots. Spanish tops, spur rests as dressage show rules require the rider conform to strict presentation. Only men are permitted to wear the black hunting boots with tan tops. The ladies' boots are black with patent leather tops. Don't know why this is except the certainty men wrote these rules.

But yes, by 1976, boots were part of my DNA. The disco craze brought wrap skirts (nice until they unwrap), Danskins, and Candys. I chose my tie dye look and kept it. Outside of work, that is. My work sensibilities mean I'm often overdressed, even today. The riding boots are gone, sometimes think about having another pair made.

In 1976, my mortal enemy is a miniature schnauzer named Otto. He is a fink. A dirty, lowdown, no good little stinking rat fink. He is my father's dog. My father uses a digital clock by his bed, and chances are when I'm home for holiday I will hear at the dining table So, 3:17 was it? Grrr that dog
 
My plan for today is to be extra grumpy. I had my third round of infusion therapy yesterday (sans harp player) and I feel like crud.

On top of that, the NCAA Tournament was canceled along with F1 racing. Lastly, it seems as though every channel on TV has turned itself into the Corona Channel!

Details at eleven...
 
Let's see.
In order:
Friday the 13th
Ides of March (the 15th)
My Birthday (the 16th)
St. Paddy's day (the 17th)
Nope no sleep for this GOF.
If this list is not something to Grump about then Nothing is.
Grump grump grump.
Bob
You forgot Pi Day. You celebrate it by eating pie. Just like how you have to have sausage on Groundhog's Day, because it's ground hog.
Nope, no dog. To my recollection it translates something "entrails in hot sauce". Think: Chinese menudo. No snake, no "bush meat" for this one. Horse is marked clearly on European menus, as there's an upcharge. Never had horse. Not interested, horses are friends.

The most expensive meal I ever ate was good until I found out what it was. At a French restaurant in the US Virgin Islands, I speak pieces of several languages and can even get by somewhat in three of them. French is not on the list. The menu was entirely in French. I told the waiter I didn't understand it at all. He asked "What do you generally like?" I said "I'm a simple man. Given a choice, I usually hope for a steak." He then said what is your preferred cut of steak?" I answered "Ribeye." He asked "How do you like your ribeye prepared?" I said "Medium rare by preference." Then he pointed at one of the entries on the menu and said "Then you would want the *assorted random noises and gibberish*"

I said "I'll take your word for it."

It was a good meal. It was also a very expensive meal. I probably dropped just over a month's pay on dinner. Fortunately I hadn't had to pay for the LARGE quantity of champagne sent to our table.* But after we'd left, Rose said "I'm amazed you ate that." And I was all ?????? So she looks at me blankly and says the same assorted random noises and gibberish that the waiter had said, only loudly and slowly.

I said "You can say that however you want. But I still don't speak any French."

Then she pointed out that two of the gibberish syllables, when placed together in the order they'd been in ...meant horse.

*I was in the Navy. My ship came in for liberty. The only other deepwater pier had a cruise ship docked. My drummer's fiancee had a kid sister who sang on a cruise ship in the Caribbean. That line only had two ships in the Caribbean. So there was 50:50 odds that her sister was in the ships company. I went over and asked if they had a singer by that name. They called her. And suddenly I magically had a date in a port in the USVI. We got a ride from a cab equivalent. The driver thought we were a new couple. We were just two near strangers from the same home town, happy to meet in a random place. He thought he'd help me get laid by taking us to the most romantic (Read that as expensive.)place on the island. On the way, I noticed her ring and asked her about it. She pulled it off and handed it to me to look at it. I still had it when we got to the restaurant. So I made a show, halfway through the meal, of going to her side of the table, getting down on one knee, and proposing, so I could put her ring back on her finger. She went along with it. And everyone tought we'd really just gotten engaged. So SEVERAL people sent champagne. Fortunately, they paid for it.
 
My plan for today is to be extra grumpy. I had my third round of infusion therapy yesterday (sans harp player) and I feel like crud.

On top of that, the NCAA Tournament was canceled along with F1 racing. Lastly, it seems as though every channel on TV has turned itself into the Corona Channel!

Details at eleven...

Grumpiness helps everything. Sometimes helps to be gruff too.

**

Auditions for slots at the summer blues festival were to be held tonight, and seemed very much like a good idea for me to go and network. The event's called off on account of something that has come to be symbolized by TP.

Friday the 13th turned out to be a good day for me. Deposited three checks.

Read some kid was caught selling hand sanitizer. Should be free to any who need it, the adults say. Except a day ago the same adults were saying health comes with a cost. BTSOM. Humans. :wacky:
 
One of my former students became a teacher in Thorne Bay Alaska, kinda in your neighborhood, Will. She carried a large caliber gun to walk to school in the mornings.

That sounds like my niece when she taught in Dallas.

I did junior high in Ft Worth back in the 70s. I was at three different schools over three years because we kept moving. My eighth grade year was in a fairly rough school. My homeroom and history teacher was a tiny woman in her early thousands. I'm pretty sure I could have thrown her overhand even then. One day, she toddles into class just a bit late. She sort of leaned while reaching to put her bag on the desk. The bag tipped a bit. And a HUGE revolver went *kathump thump thump* across most of her desktop.

We were SO much better behaved after we knew Ms Kinley was packing.
 
In 1976, I remember playing in a coffee house across the back lane from where we lived. I bought a new Fender 135W amp, that thing was loud.

It was a cold winter. We bought green down coats at an army surplus store. The coat went with the steel toed construction boots that I wore. They offered a shot of booze over at the gun counter which I declined so they threw in wool sailor’s watch caps.


Top 100 Hits of 1976/Top 100 Songs of 1976
 
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In the days of real newspapers, there was a city editor who kept a baseball bat at her desk. Reporters learned quickly it was not because she loves baseball. And at the same group of papers ...

was a compositor who never truly left his work as an army demolitions expert. He carried a hand grenade in his briefcase. If an editor was late with a page, he would place the grenade above the page camera was waiting on. When I pointed out that his name appears in the "gratitude to [page of names]" in the back of every Hunter S. Thompson book, he denied it was him. I took special care to decline his invitations to desert Fourth of July parties.
 
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