Happy Years

“Blustery roofsit”

    ROOFTOP – You’d better latch onto the person sitting next to you. We’re having a Winnie the Pooh day. It’s blustery as all get out. If one of us flies off this roof, I prefer we all go together. -- No, Vern! Let go of me. I was joking.

    Nobody is taking me with them during a roof-fall. Least of all you, Vern. Sheesh. – We shall not let Jokerman Vern ruin the rest of this bright, shiny and perfect seeming roofsit.

I ran across that “perfect-seeming” description in a play I was reading. Some of the best word combinations are those seldom used together. “Perfect-seeming.” That is so cool.

Of course, you can overdo something like that. Take the ” Tale of Two Cities” opening sentence. You know, the best of time, worst of times thing. Somewhere down the line Dickens came up with “…it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity.” Give me a break. If you use the word “incredulity” in the first sentence of anything, you’ve lost 90 percent of your American readers. Including me. (And, yes, I still appreciate Dickens’ pleasantly poetic opening sentence. And, yes, the “pleasantly-poetic” term was not original.)

    Well, that was certainly a big wind gust. Makes me wish Vern was flying a kite. One of  those really big ones. -- Yes, I’m joking. But, still, Cheryl why don’t you trade places with your husband? Yes, I’m serious.

Has anyone noticed any dust in the wind? There’s supposed to be a dust cloud traveling from the panhandle. It’s so clear out this morning, that I haven’t seen anything more than leaves and taco wrappers. Have you noticed that many fast food patrons are afflicted with Trashcanophobia.

No one can sense any dust or sand in the wind? Anyone’s teeth feeling the least bit gritty? Well, then shut your mouth. Ha! -- Speaking of “ha,” Jill, came up for a visit last weekend. I do some of my best laughing when my kid sister visits.

Of course, we had to do our usual early morning cafe breakfast. Traditions sometimes stick like shoe-gum. The breakfast tradition is a good one. It could be so much better if breakfast cooks ever figure out what “scrambled easy” means. Or “soft scrambled.” They’ve pretty much caught onto “over easy” for a fried egg, but “scrambled easy” apparently means “keep-it-off-the-floor” to most egg scramblers.

I’ve even had the waitress circle the word “easy.” Might as well have had her circle “Bev.” I’ve sent my eggs back so many times that I’m immune to most germs passed along by spit. – Jill would’ve thought that funny.

But, forget breakfast… at least for now. The most fun part of Jill’s visit was “The Happy Years.” That’s a movie released back in 1950, starring a young Dean Stockwell, Daryl and Dwayne Hickman and Leo G Carroll. Names that six of us can still remember.

I don’t know when Jill and I first saw “Happy Years”, but we’ve been quoting lines from it ever since I can remember. If we ever got sleepy in church, one of us might say, “Hold ‘em, Tough. Hold ‘em.”

I like nonsensical lines shared by only siblings or close friends. – The “I like Maude Adams” line from “Happy Years” has been used for everything. We might be in a grocery store where someone is taking up the whole aisle. I’ll say out-loud, “I like Maude Adams.” Jill will go into a giggle fit.

One of the movie lines could also be used as a proof-of-life question should Jill or I get kidnapped. One of us would ask the kidnapper, “How many pancakes did The Great Big Man eat?” I’d tell you the answer, but it’d be foolish to give up a good proof-of-life question.

If that wind keeps up like that for about three days, I may be able to mow the weeds down there. Yesterday morning, I got out the battery-powered weed-whacker and tickled some of the vegetation. Battery powered weed-whackers have about as much cutting power as a rubber sword.

A couple of places I don’t have to worry about mowing are that patch of green by the trees in the back, and the patch next to the carport. Those are bluebonnets down there. I also sprinkled some seeds alongside the road, but haven’t seen anything spring up.

There’s also supposed be some red poppies out there, but I don’t expect much from them. I believe only about six bloomed last year. Tiny spots of red atop a small wave of blue. Everyone of you must return when the flowers are in bloom. Hopefully we’ll visit up here a few times before then, but we definitely need to make it a point to see the bluebonnets.

Of course, we don’t all have to sit in the same places we are now. In fact, I insist. You were over the top, Vern. Over the top! And, Cheryl, you weren’t much better. – Yes, I’m joking.

End

Mark@rooftopwriter.com