Author: Dick

“And Herod exclaimed: ‘These are not the wise men I ordered. Send them back.'”

All singing in low tones: Oooohhhh, what do you call someone as pretty as me?
Damn, I love mannequins. I guess it’s because boys aren’t supposed to play with dolls (action figures are okay) that I’ve always been fascinated with mannequins.

One time when I worked as a firefighter I had to take an emergency medical technician refresher course which went on for several weeks. The instructor of those classes asked me, if when I came to class, I would bring the fire department’s ResusiAnne training doll for CPR practice.

Annie came in her own box but each time I loaded the doll in the car, I thought about how it would be funny to have the doll sitting in the seat next to me. Then, perhaps with other motorists watching I could come to a rolling stop, start screaming and push Annie out the door. I am sure I would have been fired for that. I may also have been arrested. I’m glad I’m not THAT impulsive.

It would be nice though to have my own mannequin or even a, family?flock?bunch? of them. They could be used for all types of practical jokes. Maybe I could even dress one up as a sentry and station it outside my door so it would look like I have a 24-hour guard. That’s not going to happen, of course, unless I somehow become fabulously wealthy. For as you know, people who are so wacky are known as eccentric when they are rich. The rest of us would be viewed as just weird.

When I worked full-time as a newspaper reporter it was always difficult to come up with really unique ideas during recurring events each year such as the county fair or July 4th or Christmas. Sometimes we would come up with something that was a real winner and other times it would be a real turkey of a story.

At one paper my editor had a very good Christmas story idea. However, he wanted ME to do the story which was spending several hours as Santa Claus at the local mall. I wasn’t too keen on the idea at first and it didn’t get any better putting on that hot and scratchy Santa suit. But it turned out okay. Kids thought I was the real thing and a couple of attractive women jumped up in my lap for a picture. Try getting the latter to happen at a steer show at the county fair and you may just get gored, or worse.

The whole Santa Claus myth is really strange once you get older and think about it. It is not a story for those steeped in logic and science. Santa and his deer fly around the world on Christmas night delivering presents and there are how many time zones and there are how many homes? And flying deer?

But the good thing about being a kid is you can suspend belief for a little while. I suppose you can fantasize as an adult — sometimes with even better fantasies than Santa bringing you a Sponge Bob Square Pants action figure — but I mean the Santa fantasy is something that you can only imagine because the math, science, logic and a whole lot of other disciplines don’t work out. Angelina Jolie or Brad Pitt or even Angelina and Brad might not ever crawl into your bed in the middle of the night. But it theoretically could happen. It most likely, hell no, never, won’t happen for most of us, nor would some of us want them in our beds (Sorry, Brad’s not welcome here). But even such a wild fantasy as that has the possibility of reality even though it has probability of jack.

That is why I found Jesus as such a good being to pretend when I was as a little kid. The guy was a magician, a superhero, immortal. And no one I knew back then could ever do the things JC did. That’s part of the reason I find as so disgusting those so-called religious people who purport to know what Jesus would do and telling everyone else they must do it or else. Hey, I was a childhood Jesus! Or at least I played one.

So ho, ho, ho, for Santa Claus. Even if you’ve outgrown believing in him take a minute and remember how rich the fantasy was. And then you can go back to fantasizing about Angelina and/or Brad.

Do you ever wonder what happened to Teddy Roosevelt’s one-legged rooster?

Apparently cockfighting is safe for the time being. Notice this highlight of the Defense Appropriations Bill passed by the House:

Cockfighting
Does not include any language nor was any language ever being considered related to cockfighting or animal fighting

All together now: “Huh?”

You all remember U.S. Rep. Jean Schmidt, R-Ohio, right? She is the one who got up on the floor of Congress awhile back and, in effect, called Marine and war veteran Rep. Jack Murtha, D-Penn., a coward because of his wanting U.S. troops to withdraw from Iraq.

Well, I’ve been doing a little research on Rep. Schmidt.

Can you find Jean Schmidt in the picture? Hint: She is the one dressed as a cow.
It seems Jean is just a good old Republican gal who likes to go to county fairs when she isn’t out picketing abortion clinics. But the most interesting thing I found out about Jean?

Her previous career as an actress. She likes to play down her H-wood days. We can grasp why, what with all the simpering liberal do-gooders out there in Lalaland. But those of us who now know who she really is and have long been her biggest, No. 1, fans of Jean the actress can’t wait for her to get the political bug out of her system so she can once again thrill us on the silver screen.

“And your little dog too!”

What a gal that Jean!