Medicine, Celibacy, and Rock 'n' Roll

How could I overlook it? It was forty years ago! I frolicked in the mud at Woodstock, swaying to the music of Crosby, Stills, and Nash, twitching to the music of Joe Cocker, jumping to the music of Country Joe and the Fish. Those were the days.

I'm thinking now about promoting a big rock concert in my beets fields, a kind of In Seine 2010. Gotta make some contacts . . .

-Old Gargoyle

More Mensa

Some more Mensa contest-winning words:

inoculatte: to take coffee intravenously when you are running late

osteopornosis: a degenerate disease

glibido: all talk and no action

sarchasm: the gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it

Inside Job

What a night! The little woman was still at her conference in Dover, and I was watching "Project Runway." The house was dark; that's when I heard the rattle at my back door. I had read about burglars in the area. I quickly unlocked and opened the door. Three men were standing there in the dark, surprised. I warmly greeted them, saying I was expecting them. They were Latvian immigrants to the Seine area---plenty of them around here lately. I insisted they enter my kitchen. I had them sit, remove their caps. I served them bourbon, and we downed eight or nine drinks in memory of J. Edgar Hoover. They didn't seem to mind. We sang a couple of songs from the old country. While they were still drinking and snacking in the kitchen, I quickly went to my bedroom, then returned to show them my loaded pistol. They were taken aback, but I let them carefully examine it. Because they were without firearms, I recommended my kind of handgun for their ventures. They were grateful. With one more drink on my part dedicated to the honor of that great Latvian-American, Andy Kaufman, I abruptly walked out the front door, telling them to close the front and back doors behind them when they too departed. After a walk around the block in the dark, I returned to find everything tidy in my kitchen, the boys gone, and nothing stolen. I like Latvians.

-Old Gargoyle

Get Me a Dictionary

I don't belong to Mensa. I don't care to ask to join, because I wouldn't belong to a club which would have someone like me as a member anyway. But I have received news of the Washington Post's Mensa invitational word contest. It requires one to take a word, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter in it, and supplying a new definition. A few of the winners:

ignoranus: a person who's both stupid and an asshole

intaxication: euphoria at receiving a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to begin with

reintarnation: coming back in another life as a hillbilly

giraffiti: vandalism spray-painted very high

-Old Gargoyle

Tempus Fugit

The school year has begun here in Seine. High-school students walk through my beets field on their way to catch their bus. The boys, especially, are frisky and eager as beavers. That must be their first stage of life, the best I myself can remember back that far. In their second stage, they will want to build things such as dams, and "chew" down some trees, etc. In the third stage, they'll feel trapped, I think, and then skinned. I'm not sure what the fourth stage is.

-Old Gargoyle

Anonymous Space

I couldn't believe it: A "Star Trek" convention came to little old Seine. As an ex-Trekkie, I dug my closets and found my old "Enterprise" uniform, then proudly went to the convention. But no one recognized my character: that of the fourth mate in the biological-plants section of the starship. I guess I went where no man has gone before.

-Old Gargoyle

And How Are We Feeling Today?

I just don't know. I swear that sometimes I think God must have bi-polar disorder.

-Old Gargoyle