August stinks on ice

 What? I was born in August? You'd better rethink that.

Favorite month is ‘Not August’

    ROOFTOP – Do you know what my favorite month of the year is? Not August. I can find something pleasant to mention about any other month, but I have to make up stuff when the eighth month rolls around.

    I do have to admit that it’s not as hot up here on this August day as I thought it’d be. There’s even a breeze that is less hot than I imagined. See how I make up stuff?

    I wish you’d look at the lawn. It still has green areas. Of course, by the end of this month it will look all bleached out. I’ll probably have to mow just one time in August. I’m falling in love with this month.

    Kay’s got a birthday this week. I don’t consider that necessarily a good thing. Oh, it’s good she was born, but I would’ve preferred she been born in a more pleasant month and on a day that doesn’t commemorate the bombing of Hiroshima. Kay was born years after the bombing, but still.

I think it would’ve been so much nicer had she been born some day during National Celery Month. That’d be March. A much better month, March. And, I just can’t say enough about celery. You may not be aware, but people who are allergic to celery are usually allergic to mugwort pollen. (The Illiad, Homer)

    One thing scary about Kay’s birthday is the fact that she’s taking a day off work. She’s never done that before. What am I supposed to do about that? We gave up on celebrating birthdays. Didn’t we? I thought it best that I change the appointment with my urologist that was scheduled on the same day. Couldn’t handle the stigma. – ‘Hey, Mark, what’d you do for Kay’s birthday/” – “I took her out to eat and then had a far too intimate moment with my urologist.”

    Besides a good meal, there’s no gift I could get Kay that she’d enjoy. I could get her one of those artificial gemstone rings, but I’d get the wrong one. Say I buy her a ring with a blue stone. Just say I did. She’d smile big and then tactfully tell me that she’s got plenty of blue tourmalines or floriminites.

I don’t know gems – faux or real. Gemstones have gotten so complicated over the years, while stealing ‘em has gotten so much easier. Used to be, jewel thieves had to either come through the air-ducts and suspend from the ceiling to steal a bunch of jewels, or tunnel beneath and then have a ballerina contortionist dance through the maze of laser alarms.

Now all you need is a scarf and something that looks like a pistol. Can you believe that guy in France? Puts a scarf across his face, walks in the front door of the Carlton, pulls out a pistol which may or may not have been loaded, holds up a half dozen cops and walks out with $136 million worth of diamonds.

The hotel might as well have hired the Hayter brothers to guard those gems. At least we would’ve dared the thief to fire off a couple of shots to make sure his gun worked.

Stealing the diamonds was the easy part. I don’t know how the guy plans on selling them. I’d end up advertising on Craig’s List. – “$136 million in diamonds on sale for a fraction of their value. Meet in the parking lot of Vernon’s Kuntry Katfish parking lot at noon on fried chicken day. (Tuesday) See the man wearing the Lone Ranger mask. Only truly interested buyers need respond.”  

    Well, that cute little sideline did nothing to solve the birthday dilemma. Remember? Kay’s birthday? Like I mentioned, I’ll just take her out to eat at a fancy place. “Fancy” is such a relative term, you understand? Fancy for me is getting dessert with my Luann platter. Kay will likely expect more.

    I could let the fancy meal serve as both our birthday gifts. I was born just two weeks after Kay. Born on President Benjamin Harrison’s birthday. What? Benjamin Harrison. Twenty-third President. Yes, of the U.S. Defeated Grover Cleveland in 1888.

Grover Cleveland? Yes, 22nd and 24th President. Yes of the-- Squirrel! No, seriously. At the base of the elm. No that’s an oak. To the right. See? The crop of squirrels has been slowly increasing over what it was last year. Of course, by the end of the month the population will likely take another plunge. That’s August for you.

Tell you what. Let’s stay off the roof for the rest of the month. I will if you will. – Oh, and if you have any keen ideas for a possible gift for Kay, don’t keep it to yourself. – Next time.

End

Mark@rooftopwriter.com  and  www.rooftopwriter.com