Out of character

In the Chamber of The Duck, Part the Second

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When we left off yesterday, we had just survived a reenaction of the Second Battle of Ypres. We take you now to the second half of the concert...

During the second half, I closed my eyes, the better to concentrate on the music, when slowly I became aware of the fact that Very Nice Lady had fallen asleep. Not hard to do when listening to chamber music. It can be very soothing. Except she was THIS far from snoring. You know that kind of breathing a person does when they're asleep and you can tell that if their soft palate drops another millimeter they will break out into a full-blown snore? That kind.

What to do? I couldn't let her begin snoring. Disrespectful to the performers and annoying to fellow audience members. I didn't want to startle her in case she let out a yelp or struck out (or had a stroke) or whatever. I waited with bated breath to see if she'd make the transition from deep breathing to full-on snore, devising my plan of attack. I thought a gentle touch to the arm best, whilst bracing myself to leap sideways should she turn out to be one of those violent wakers. I was all set to put my plan into action when I was saved by the end of the movement. The beginning of the next one was loud and lively enough that it woke her up.

It was rather a lot of entertainment for only $22.

In the Chamber of The Duck, Part the First

It was a Duckworthy* moment. Made all the funnier by the unexpected venue.

Last night I was at a chamber music concert. Yes, yes, I'm one of those people. I know. Stop sniggering in the back.

Where was I? Oh, yes... last night I was at a chamber music concert. Which tends to be a very staid occasion. People on their best behaviour, some even wearing their best bib and tucker. A Very Nice Lady who looked to be about 60**, quite respectably dressed, sat down beside me. She very politely and congenially commented to me that we had very good seats, which we did. Fourth row, centre house. Close enough to watch the musicians (they don't half make funny faces) but far enough back not to get hit by any snapping cello strings (which happened on Wednesday night - the cello string snapping, not anyone getting hit - as far as I know).

All was fine during the first half of the concert.

During the intermission, I amused myself with my cell phone, checking e-mail, reading about the near-miss plane crash of a Canadian plane (not Scare Canada) in the US (gneep!) and checking Crackbook. I didn't notice that she had moved one seat over. Maybe she moved over to chat to someone, I didn't notice. Just as the concert began, she moved back over to the seat next to me, and as she stood up and stepped sideways... as The Duck would phrase it... FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARP!!! The loudest fart I have heard in a long time. In public, anyway. Luckily, it wasn't an SBD but an LBB***.

I spent the next 15 minutes almost crying from trying to suppress the laughter****.

Tomorrow... In the Chamber of The Duck, Part the Second.

*As in Scary, not Jack and Vera.

**An interesting feature of the chamber music concert is that at 50, I was a good 30 years younger than the average audience member.

***Loud But Benign

****Because I am five years old.

Friday Funny - Avast, me hearties!

Pigs in Space, a pirate John Cleese, and a disappointed parrot. What more could you want?

A wee bit silly

PostSecret

I can see clearly now...

... that my new glasses are not meant to be. As I was heading for the mall on another errand, I dared a phone call to the optical place to see if they had come back. All that is now required is for the edges of the lenses to be polished as I asked (and paid) for. On being told the glasses had indeed come back from the lab (3,000 miles away - grrrr!) I droppped in to pick them up.

Now they're satin polished (I requested glossy)... WITH A STRIPE IN THE MIDDLE 1/3 THE WIDTH OF THE LENSES THAT STANDS OUT FROM THE REST OF THE LENS. Very attractive, that is.

They managed to get the computer glasses right. What gives with the bifocals?

So it's back to the lab. Two more weeks. That'll make it seven weeks from order to delivery time. Assuming they get it right this time.

Friday Funny

Even if you don't like cats, fast forward to the one at :20. I laughed so hard I thought I was going to stop breathing.

20,000 served

While I was busy going cross-eyed peering at hexidecimal codes, the counter ticked over the 20,000 mark. Which is pretty overwhelming considering I was afraid no one would ever, ever comment when I started this thing. So thanks to everyone who keeps coming back, commenting and pretending I make sense.

As you may have noticed, if you haven't drifted off altogether and who could blame you, this blog has been kind of floundering lately. So - no, don't panic, I am not going to say I'm outa here - (Was that a small cheer in the back? Hush, Ricardipus - who by the way is back from the cottage - I'm not finished.) but I have been doing some thinking and surfing around and I have a plan. Yes, people, I have a plan. No, not that one. No! As if! But almost interesting posts are in the works.

Even if I have to make stuff up.

Finally...

And now, for your viewing pleasure, we at Wrath of Dawn are pleased to unveil the new, improved, cheesier, still featuring the right arm of the lovely Ricardipus along with the Balancing Fish, header.

Thank you, Rik!

Guided by a Duck Rikaitched!

What you see above is the result of Mr. Scaryduck, Sir's instructions. Rik's w00t! graphix skillz.

The picture looked as I wanted it to in Ph*toBuck*t, as it displayed in a recent post.

Above is what it looks like But when I inserted it, exactly as directed, into the Bl*gger template it went wonky. The width was correct, but it was too shallow. Not that Ricardipus' arm doesn't make a lovely header all by itself, but I did so want the balancing fish to appear as well. You try listening to fish blubber all night because they're not in the header and you promised them!

Any more bright ideas, But thanks for trying to help me, Feather Face. You just underestimated the degree of assistance (read: do it all for me, plz) I required.

*ducks*

More fun with keyword searches

REUTERS/Darren Staples

















Sometimes, I can figure out how and why the person would type a certain combination of words and also how it landed them here, but now and again I just fail to see the connection.

elastic band love is life mp3 - Um... WTF?

jogging in pantyhose - What person in their right mind would consider this?

olivia havilland jehovah - She was successful, sure, but a deity? And it's 'de Havilland' and I haven't mentioned any of those terms that I can remember.

one-man play multiple personality disorder - I've seen one-man plays in which having multiple personality disorder might come in handy if you could get them all to learn their lines, but don't think I've ever mentioned it here previously.

Header of my dreams

This is the header I'd like to have. Can't find the spot where I change the numbers to allow this size file.

The same old shillelagh

Comes a time when you've done enough trips around the sun to have enough life experience under your belt to pretty much know what you're doing. Oh sure, you might complain about a situation and it could come across as if you don't know what to do about it, but you're really just blowing off steam; just complaining about circumstances thrust upon you of which you're not too fond.

You know what to do. Life is pretty much a plethora of same old, same old. When you’ve spent half a century riding that slingshot of gravity around Old Sol, you've more or less seen and heard it all. Not much shocks you, although you may still get a bit of a surprise from time to time. You pretty much know who you can trust and who you can't; who's going to follow through with promises and plans and who's just blowin' smoke. You can recognize who knows you and is just being nice because they need a place to stay when they’re in your city and how to not get too attached to them and who knows you and likes you anyway, spare bed or not, and how important it is to hang onto them. But not to get too attached to most people because, let’s face it, most of us have the attention span of a goldfish and we don’t stick around for long.

And you've learned to pick your battles. When you're younger, you tend to react to every slight and indignity with a passionately cried, "That's not fair!" and "I'm not gonna take it!" and sometimes you just plain don’t know what you should do. But after a while, you know those slights and indignities are gonna come. Unless you hole up in your house (and even then you're not totally safe trampoline) you are going to encounter your fair share of abuse. You learn to develop a thicker skin – a wall around you, if you will – and as long as you're not hurting anyone or breaking any laws, you just don't care much what anyone else thinks or does anymore, or what they think you should do. You start to let it bounce off you. You know what you could do. You just choose not to.

Doesn't mean you don't notice it. Doesn’t mean you don’t have that moment of, “Grrrrr!" and a fantasy of braining the offender, literally or figuratively, or that it doesn't bother you at all, just that you have come to an understanding with the universe that shit is gonna happen and you're sharing the planet with fools, jerks, and all manner of eejits (and sometimes you’re one yourself) and sometimes, the less fuss you make, if you don’t raise the ante by coming out shillelagh swinging, the faster it’ll pass. But you've got a shillelagh, literally (big stick) or figurately (lawyer), and you know how to use it, you just choose not to. This time.

And sometimes, if you've chosen as your response to turn a blind eye, seethe silently and keep that shillelagh by your side, a nice complaining blog post is often a good release valve. It’s not a cry for help. It’s not a request for advice. It’s just letting off steam, so you don’t pick up that shillelagh.

It’s also much cheaper than a lawsuit. Or a psychiatrist.