Distilled Barney...

Boy, am I distressed. It seems that my last blog entry was so blah that my buddy, FUZBUKT didn't have anything to wisecrack about. That being so means that I have fallen down on the job. He's my goofy alter ego. Sorta like Lou Costello to my Bud Abbott or Gracie Allen to my George Burns. I feed him lines like Sally Strothers feeds Filipino kids. The fact that my last entry couldn't be mined for a joke is a shame that I'll have to learn to live with. If you were reading this straight out of my journal, you would see where my tear drops have smeared the ink.

The other day when I was grocery shopping, I picked up a gallon of distilled water. What makes this noteworthy is the fact that the distilled water has an expiration date! The water had a "Use by" date for goodness sakes. Then what? All the water, not just the distilled stuff had expiration dates. You would have to be a world class, blue ribbon, hall of fame dumbass to throw the water away when it is not used by the date on the side. Oh, but those people exist! They may breathe through their mouths or live in Auburn, but they're there.

This experience has sorta piqued my interest in expiration dates. Now that I've got to start checking other things like toilet paper, kitty litter and garbage bags. Its like any other defining moment in your life. Get a butchered hair cut, you notice hair cuts. Put a new roof on your house, you notice roofs. See an expiration date on a gallon of water and you notice the labels put on products to help businesses from being sued by boneheads. Like: Remove the plastic wrapper before baking the pizza. Bananas must have the peels removed before eating. Do not drink the fabric softener! Wouldn't it be tragic if you were so stupid you needed these warnings? It would be worse, though, if your spouse or kid was. Personally, I don't have a problem because I've surrounded myself with smart people. Poor people like Barb have to take it on the chin!

Being more proof that I am attempting to enter the Twenty-first century is the fact that I've opened a Facebook page. I'm pretty much clueless about all the jargon used and features of Facebook. I've been given two green beers and I'm at a loss figuring out what it means. Also, I've noticed that there are some people who are very eager to accumulate friends. One of Shane's friends wanted to be my friend too. I'm pretty sure that there's nothing in my life that would interest him but, since I'm the nurturing type, I'll be his friend. I'm convinced that Facebook will bring about the "Barneyfication" of America with everyone stumbling around asking "Will you be my friend?"

I'm hoping to use Facebook to help me touch base again with old friends from high school that I have lost contact with. I've already got one, Mike Hockaday, and can't wait til I get home and check out his page. I'd like to touch base with old friends from college but I can't remember their last names. I remember that an old roommate's mom's maiden name is Valentino but I can't remember his first or last name. One of my best friends during the "Motley's Pub" year was Don from South Bend. Last name is a blank. The same goes for my old Army buddies. I remember more of those guys names but I can't find much on 123people on them. It seems that all my old friends (at least the ones that I remember) have lived their lives under the radar. Is it too much to ask, if a guy's memory sucks, that his old friends be flamboyant enough to get noticed by the world wide web?

Well, when I get off this train in Cleveland I'll be headed to a new hotel. We no longer stay at the Wyndham. Now we're at a Doubletree Hotel by the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Also, I'm hoping it has a good place to walk (its right by the lake) without the panhandlers and traffic.

Finally, last week Paul Harvey, the radio commentator, passed away. His feature "The Rest of the Story" was always one of my favorites. The reason I mention it was because one of his broadcasts has stayed with me forever. Jen and Shannon have probably heard this a dozen times so bear with me please. During the filming of "The Wizard of Oz", the character of the Wizard and the traveling salesman, played by Frank Morgan, needed an old used tuxedo. The director sent a flunky to the Salvation Army store to get one. After the filming was done, a wardrobe lady looked in the jacket lining and saw the name of the original owner of the tux. Who was it? L. Frank Baum, the author of "The Wizard of Oz". And now you know... The rest of the story.

So there you go Fuzzie, plenty of ammo for your gun!