Random Grandpa Memories

Grandpa about to smack me upside the head, circa 1982.

Had my Grandpa Brown lived, he would have been 117 years old last month. Alas, he was taken much too soon at the age of 96.

As the gray hairs swarm and multiply on my own once youthful head, memories of Grandpa come rushing back . . . .

I remember how he used to break the filters off his Camel cigarettes before lighting up because filters were for sissies, and how the waistband of his pants rose higher with each passing year. When he had to by a longer belt and larger pants he always said it was because the older he got the more his chest dropped.

And how could I forget his artificial leg? He once stapled his sock to it because he was tired of how it kept slipping down the smooth surface of his wooden calf. Grandma was furious, but that was just how he rolled.

I am flooded with fond memories of helping him tear down the slant-6 engine of some old car in his garage. He was a mechanic, a carburetor specialist, and he could fix anything. Today's automotive electronics would have eluded him, I think, but if it had moving parts and it didn't work he could pull it apart, put it back together, and it would be better than it was when new.

He gave me my first vehicle: a 1970 four-wheel drive Chevrolet pickup, dark metallic green with a bored-out 350, Holley 4-barrel, headers and Thrush mufflers. Hell on gas mileage, but I could have pulled your house off its foundation with that tank of a truck. Its doors had more steel in them than in the entire body of the Toyota 4-cylinder truck I traded it in for years later that didn't have enough towing power to pull your hat off.

The only advice he gave me about its maintenance before I left for college was, "Keep the oil changed and don't skimp on tires."

I think this is how Grandpa saw pretty much everyone.

Solid advice for anyone, and something I've always remembered.

That's the way it was with Grandpa Brown though. He'd throw his comments out there on whatever the situation was and not waste time elaborating or explaining. You took what he was saying and kept it, or you stood there like an idiot wondering what the hell he was talking about. Either way, I don't think he much cared.

Sometimes nihilistic and bitter, often profane, many times utterly incomprehensible, it is his words and phrases more than anything that keep Grandpa's memory alive for me today.

As sort of a tribute, I've compiled here a few of my favorites of his more frequently uttered aphorisms, along with notes on their situational context. Out of respect to Grandma who never, ever, swore, I've edited out a few of his more colorful words. I hate doing that but I'm sure your imaginations will provide adequate substitutions.

• "A frying pan works both ways once the cook leaves the kitchen." He often said this about people who questioned his way of doing something.

• "Nothing to do now but [bleep] in the chimney and go home." A reference to something being a lost cause.

• "Get over thinking you're special. Some day you'll be trading shoes with a donkey, and then I guess you'll see."  I still haven't managed to unravel what he meant by this one.

• "You can't stomp a spider with both feet in the bucket." Used when someone was failing at a task as a result of laziness and/or incompetence.

• "Wish in one hand and [bleep] in the other hand and see which fills up first." I learned at a very early age that Grandpa wasn't big on people going around wishing for things (not a Grandpa original, but one of his favored sayings).

• "Get a load of that guy. All dressed up with his hair slicked back and shining like a monkey's ass." Apparently Grandpa also had a problem with men who used hair gel.

I could go on, but in deference to the brevity Grandpa always favored, I'll leave things where they are and call it good for now. After all, as he often said, "no sense hiding the mice when the owl's already full."

Rest in Peace, Grandpa Brown.

Petrified Cherubs of Gloom

"Why was I not made of stone, like thee?" – Victor Hugo

We don't know what the weather is like where you are, but here at the Happy Home Products headquarters, we're starting to wonder if there ever really were such things as blue sky and sunshine.

Even the shelves our warehouses, so normally full of brightly-colored products of cheer and wonder, now seem to be sagging beneath the weight of winter's icy embrace.

It was in the gloom-shrouded aisles of Warehouse B that we came across this grim tableau of petrified cherubs, apparently frozen in the act of dining on an old tire. Beholding them, you'll wonder, as did we, what terrible force turned them to stone during their bleak repast. Our best guess is that Medusa passed by and these unfortunate angels spared her a glance, thus sealing their fate to eventually crumble away to gray dust as time marches unmercifully onward.

We're sure that once this monochromatic sculptural marvel takes up residence in your home you'll be inspired to pause for a moment during the daily empty chores of your life to ponder the fleeting nature of life, and to whisper, "please, when it's my turn to leave this world, at least let me not be preserved stuffing food into my mouth with a stupid look on my face."

We can't even pretend to offer any answers as to what may lie beyond this life, but we can give our guarantee that this durable item will likely be around long after you're gone, leaving your descendants to wonder why the hell you would have bought such a thing. Scant comfort, we know, when faced with questions of mortality, but it's the only truth we have to offer. 

Our time here is short, so don't delay! Begin your Existential Journey today by ordering this stony representation of the dark cloud of doubt that is ordinarily surrounded by the whimsical silver lining of hope you have carefully constructed for yourself. Now at a special sale price!

Petrified Cherubs of Gloom

Regular Price: $34.95

NOW: You know what? We don't even care anymore. Just make an offer.

Happy Home Products Clearance Sale

The Holiday Season has come to a close, and here at Happy Home Products we've found our warehouse inexplicably overloaded with an abundance of leftover holiday decor.

Frankly, we're puzzled why some of these items didn't fly out of our doors, but no matter. Our confusion over our surplus inventory is your gain, as we offer these unique and festive ornaments and home adornments at super blow-out savings! Don't wait for next year, when prices are sure to soar once more. Order now and start stockpiling scads of festive delight for next season!

Ho Ho . . . Oh Owww

DETERMINED SANTA

Everyone knows that Santa Claus brings toys to well-behaved boys and girls all around the world. What few to take into consideration, however, is that his delivery routes often take him into some of the most dangerous and inhospitable locations on the planet, such as the Amazon Rainforest where he must wade through piranha-infested waters to deliver his goods. This whimsical ornament depicting Santa, his legs eaten away to skeletal sticks by carnivorous fish but still tottering along bravely, is sure to bring a smile to the face of even the most Grinch-like of observers as they are suddenly confronted with the harsh reality of the high price of delivering gifts of joy to even the most Godless and forsaken of our planet's populace!

REG. PRICE: $24 NOW: 11.96!

Too much glitter? Nonsense!

KING MIDAS GINGERBREAD MAN

We had to don our extra-dark sunglasses to even look at this festive ornament! Thickly encrusted with presumably non-toxic golden glitter, this delightful decoration shines as if touched by King Midas himself! You'll be every bit as touched yourself, when with every handling more and more of this ornament's "extra-shiny" coating rubs off and adheres itself to not just every surface in your home, but also to any exposed body parts of family members and house guests! We're reasonably certain that the glitter dust isn't radioactive, but all the same we recommend keeping exposure limited so the fun doesn't end prematurely with unfortunate genetic mutations!

REG. PRICE: $18 NOW: $9.75!

Come on! Feel the burn!

PILATES BALL ELF

Once you lay eyes on this excruciatingly jolly elf, you'll laugh so hard that you may lose your breath and momentarily black out from lack of oxygen. Not to worry though! Once you regain consciousness this diminutive fitness fanatic will still be rolling around on his big green exercise ball, toning his elfin abs and relentlessly mocking you for letting your own physique slide over to the jiggly side of the scale this season. Rumor has it that this merry sprite has the strength to lift your flagging resolve to finally get off the couch and do something about your own shabby physical appearance, or at the very least blind you to your reflection in the mirror with the eye-scorching atomic green hue of his stylish workout apparel. Either way, its a win-win situation once you add this adorable aerobic imp to your collection of equally priceless treasures designed to put you in a better place, emotionally speaking.

REG. PRICE: $22 NOW: $12.25!

Apparel for the Apathetic

Glad I've got someone of the opposite sex with me,
or I'd really feel like a complete moron.

Several weeks ago I encountered a product called the "Forever Lazy Soft Fleece Lounge Wear" suit on the shelves of a local store, snapped this quick (and regrettably blurry) cellphone picture of it for evidence of yet another sign of our collapsing society, and went about my day.

It was only later, when I came across it again in my vast database of images, that I began to ponder what this item had to offer.  

According to the packaging, only three activities are recommended by the manufacturer (and one has to wonder if these are suggestions or stipulations) while wearing the Forever Lazy Lounging Around Doing Nothing With Your Life Suit:

• Read a book.

• Watch TV.

• Do nothing at all.

Sounds good on the surface, but when you realize that "Watching TV," and "Doing Nothing At All," are virtually the same thing, you're suddenly down to two activities: "Reading A Book Book," and "Doing Nothing At All." 

Going one step further, it you're the type of person whose main activities in life have been reduced to reading or doing nothing, odds are you're going to default to "Doing Nothing." Just a guess. 

So there you have it. All you can really do in your colorful costume of sloth is . . . nothing. Nothing at all. If you were motivated, maybe you could sort of shuffle around the house looking for the TV remote or something. But after awhile even that would likely prove to be too much effort and soon you'd be back in the comfy chair, fantasizing about the greatness you could achieve if only you had more time.

Being a big fan of comfort myself, I have to admit that for a moment I envisioned myself lying around the house doing nothing in a cocoon of warmth. But then I quickly came to my senses when I realized I'd never really be able to fully relax, because of the following nagging worry:

What if someone comes to the door?

There I'd be, resplendent in the vestibule: a six-foot-tall, 200-pound, 50-year-old man, in a saggy blue fleece suit with sleep drool on my chin. Given the quirky twists of fate the universe drop ships to me at the worst possible times, the visitor on my threshold would either be an incredibly beautiful woman trying to find her twin sister's house, or a gigantic biker with facial tattoos looking for someone named "Spider."

Awkward.

Instructions for the Forever Lazy Transformative Cocoon. The horror.

My decision not to succumb to the siren call of costumed relaxation was solidified when, after a little research on the web, I found a copy of the instructions included with the Forever Lazy Lounge Wear, and its diabolical end goal was revealed.

Personally, faced with the choice of remaining uncomfortable in my human skin, or risk being softly transmogrified into some sort of freakish plush gnome . . .  well, I'll stick with throwing a ratty old blanket over myself when the call to nap can no longer be denied.

Revelations from Elsewhere

The  interior of The Facility, circa 1862

The Facility, a science and research organization affiliated with Random Musings, has long been aware of the existence of realities parallel to our own. Until now, the results of their explorations into these extra-dimensional alternate realms have been kept locked away in The Vaults of Ultimate Secrecy.

To commemorate its 150 year anniversary of ground-breaking scientific research, The Facility announced today that they will begin to release some of their findings to the public. The announcement comes amid growing concerns involving predictions of the end of civilization as we know it on Earth when the Mayan Calendar inexplicably runs out of days in late December of 2012.

"Rather than upsetting the population with some of our more unsavory findings regarding the Mayan Calendar's end as it pertains to this particular dimension, we thought it might be amusing to reveal some of the light-hearted variations of reality we have found in the parallel worlds of the Multiverse which surrounds us," says Dr. Quentin Bloor, director of The Facility.

As an example, Bloor points to what researchers at The Facility call "Terra Variation 11c" (or TV11c), just one of many alternate versions of Earth where the following differences have been noted:

• Here, the President of the United States is Barack Obama, while on TV11c, the Commander-in-Chief is Paul Reubens, better known as Pee-wee Herman. Previous Presidents include: Red Skelton, Dick Van Dyke, and perhaps most strangely, John Elway, former quarterback for the Denver Broncos football team.

• In our dimension, the post of Surgeon General is held by Regina Benjamin. On TV11c, the position is rocking hard with Ozzy Osbourne at the helm.

• Here, Leon Panetta is the current Secretary of Defense. On TV11c there is no Secretary of Defense, as under the current administration  the Department of Defense has been phased out by the Department of It's All Cool (DAC), occasionally administrated by Peter Fonda.

Researchers at The Facility note that similar strangely positive changes in the power structure have been recorded across the planet in this particular dimension.

"Interestingly enough, on Terra Variation 11c, war, crime, hunger, and poverty are virtually non-existent," says Bloor. "We can't be certain, because so many factors are at play, but we suspect that it is because rather than nations spending billions of dollars on defense, the money is instead channeled into feeding, clothing, housing, and educating the people of the world."

The Facility is expected to release more of its unusual findings from parallel/alternate dimensions in the coming months, as well as updates on developments in the countdown to December 22, 2012.

Picnic of the Dead

Dad has spoken: This is the Ultimate Picnic Spot.

Dad was always tops at picking out the most incredible sites for picnic lunches while we were on family vacations.

One of my favorite memories was when we packed up the gigantic green Ford LTD and headed west from Colorado to the deserts of Utah. It was somewhere just outside of Hanksville, I think, when Dad announced that it was time for lunch.

Unlike many family vacations I've heard rumors of, in my little tribe we actually ate worse on our holidays than we did at home. This was because in Dad's Big Book of Conduct, the idea of eating at someplace even as budget-minded as a Denny's would have been utterly fiscally irresponsible.

Restaurants were a waste of money, and we needed to save our dollars for admission to see The House Where Brooms Stand Up On Their Own, or The Largest Water Faucet On Earth, or whatever.

So we travelled with our own food, which always included this weird bread my Mom baked in a coffee can, a seemingly endless supply of Deviled Ham, and dozens of cans of something called "Beanee Weenee." Also, we had a styrofoam cooler full of hard-boiled eggs and Lawry's Seasoning Salt. The hardboiled eggs were important, because they could be used for for both breakfast and lunch.

But I digress.

A staple on our family vacations.

It was along that desolate stretch of Utah roadway that Dad's keen eye, ever-alert for likely pullouts, spotted a huge cottonwood tree with a dusty parking area and a single decrepit picnic table. 

Within moments of setting up our lunchtime gourmet spread, we were beset by hordes of bees, wasps, and flies. No surprise there, really, considering that the picnic table was flanked by two 50-gallon oil drums serving as trashcans and overflowing with cascading mounds of garbage.

We fled with our food to the confines of the LTD where we sat with the windows rolled up, in August, in the desert, eating our sandwiches and hardboiled eggs while flying insects swarmed around our vehicle like something out of a bad movie on The Sci-Fi Channel.

As luck would have it though, more entertainment was on the way.

I'd guess we were about ten minutes into our meal when a pickup truck from the Utah Department of Transportation pulled in and backed up to what appeared to be a pile of tumbleweeds, dry brush, and some downed tree branches just a few feet in front of our car.

As we ate, we watched the UDOT employee attach a rope to something in the pile of debris, hook the other end to the truck's bumper, then drive slowly forward with something large in tow.

Dragging Away The Cow. A young artist's conception.

I think even Dad paused in his chewing when what we had at first thought were some branches sticking up from a fallen tree in fact proved to be the rigid limbs of the stiff and bloated corpse of a cow.

The truck drove up and over a hill on a dirt trail disappearing deeper into the desert, the cow sort of bouncing along behind like a hideous pull-toy in a cloud of dust. A short time later the truck returned, minus the cow.

Not yet done with his roadside cleanup, the UDOT employee pulled over on the shoulder of the road directly across from us, and giving us an odd look, bent to pick up the remains of another road-kill less than six feet from our car. This time it was a dog, or perhaps a coyote, that we had failed to notice earlier.

The animal's body was flung unceremoniously into the back of the pickup truck, which then pulled away, vanishing into the heat waves rising like specters from the asphalt and leaving us to contemplate the fleeting nature of life over our cans of cold cocktail franks and baked beans.