
How My Son Feels When I Start Singing




Pullman ad
The word “pineapple” in English was first recorded to describe the reproductive organs of conifer trees (now termed pine cones). When European explorers discovered this tropical fruit in the Americas, they called them “pineapples” (first referenced in 1664, for resemblance to the pine cone). So says the Great and Powerful Oz. I mean wikipedia.
So that’s it. That’s why a fruit that is neither pine nor apple is called pineapple. End of story. Next stop: eggplant.
But in the course of my brief pineapple study, I disovered a site which marries the two: Pineapples and Pinecones, purveyors of fine travel. This made me sad because:
a) I don’t use the word purvey enough. If being a purveyor means you provide something, then I suppose I provide old pictures. Just typing the word is weird. It looks pervy.
b) I’ve never been privy to “fine travel.”
The website “purveys” cruises (never been on one, but I watched umpteen seasons of “The Love Boat,” followed by “Fantasy Island”). They offer custom touring (never done that either). They “would be pleased to tailor an itinerary” to me. Has anyone ever said those words to you? They should only be said in an uppity accent. The only thing tailored for me was my bridal gown, and the shop screwed that up big time. But that’s another story.
After I shake down our money tree in the backyard, I can take that schmancy cruise and blog about my “cultural shore excursions.” I’d tell you about the lovely welcome-aboard cocktail reception I received as I boarded the Golden Princess and the awe-inspiring Fiji sunset views at night. I would share how we laughed with the captain and sang showtunes from the movie South Pacific and I would mimic washing a man right out of my hair, and it would be a gay old time. And I could talk to the ex-senator and his wife, who seem to be enjoying retirement.

But for now (sigh) the closest I can get is a hot bath and some pineapple juice. Cheers.
Well, there’s something I haven’t seen in awhile. An ashtray! Meemaws of yore loved to get their smoke on. Her hair is AMAZING. Do you think it’s a wig, or she spent all night with frozen OJ cans in her hair?
This little-banged Meemaw (I mean her bangs are little!) was only 37 years old, but look how the Camels aged her.

Just kidding. Someone knew how to accessorize.
I bet these two had the neighborhood dish. And I don’t mean the purple smoke billowing up out of that pot. Check out the red accent colors and heels!

Here’s one Meemaw I wouldn’t sassy backtalk. I bet she’d send you out back to the tree just to pull your own switch to beat you.

These two knew how to live it up in style.

And there’s their friend, Barbara, with the good teeth and high-quality Scotch.

But not THIS much Scotch.

Or THIS much.

God help us.
But most Meemaws have mellowed with age.

You go, gals.
Teamjimmyjoe.com has provided all of today’s fun images.

Perhaps the umbrella could not cover two.
Perhaps the other girl was done with her classes for the day and didn’t mind the rain.
But a wet leather purse is no fun.
Poor soaking wet Tweety and Puddy Tat…


Several days later, and dragging the unwilling passenger down the aisle is still making the news. I bet Pepsi is glad for the distraction.
Twitter is alive with creativity.



We very rarely fly, so boycotting is a moot point for our family. What about you? Will this treatment change your travel itinerary? Perhaps they should change their name to Divided.




This morning, I watched a clip of Rodney Dangerfield on The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. I miss how late night shows showcased comedians almost on a nightly basis. Nowadays, most shows end with a musical act of which I’ve usually never heard–and which often leave me confused and with little faith for the future of the music industry. But back in the day, comedians were in demand (you couldn’t throw a stick at a screen without catching a stand-up routine and a brick background), and Rodney’s style was a machine gun delivery. You barely had time to process one joke before he hit with another.
All this led me to the Tuesday trivia tidbit that (as reported in 2007) Dangerfield tattoos are among the most popular celebrity tattoos in the United States. That struck me as odd, since he passed in 2004, and he peaked in the 80s. But check him out on what appears to be a young calf.

Maybe Dangerfield was a leg man, as he appears on many of them.

Here’s another variation of the same image, with the handkerchief applied to the face (like he’s sweating mid-panic attack).

He also made an appearance on a shoulder blade in the montage with fellow funnymen Sam Kinison, Benny Hill, and W.C. Fields.

It just seems an odd choice in a world full of Marilyn Monroe and James Dean tats, to ink your body with the face of a middle-aged Jewish man, aka Jacob Cohen. Then again, no one would recognize a tattoo of this young man.
