Well, dear readers, it is the last day of February. I find that very strange indeed, as I have no clue where the other twenty-seven days of February went. Of course, February is a short month, but still, it just zoomed by, like an Olympic high-speed runner on his way to eat Ethiopian food. Have you ever seen an Olympic high-speed runner on his way to Ethiopian food? Fast, that’s all I can say. They zoom by, just like February. As for me, I don’t eat Ethiopian food more than once every thirty-five years, so I like my February to go a little slower. But my February is contrary, just like my Mary, and it just went fast whether I liked it or not. Well, bring on March – I’m ready for March – I’m marching toward March with head high, butt cheeks swinging and a song in my heart. What the hell am I talking about? It reeks of Orange Chicken around here.
Why does it reek of Orange Chicken around here? Well, I’ll tell you why it reeks of Orange Chicken around here, because this is information you cannot do without, especially on the last day of February. It reeks of Orange Chicken around here because I brought home Orange Chicken leftovers from the Chinese restaurant known as Bamboo Village and then left it out rather than putting it in the refrigerator. When I entered my handy-dandy kitchen this morning it positively reeked of Orange Chicken. And here’s another story that concerns my visit to Bamboo Village. I went there, as you already know, to sup. We had Orange Chicken, Mu-shu pork, and soup. It was a fine repast. I paid with a handy-dandy credit card, had the leftovers wrapped up and went home. About an hour later I was sitting on my handy-dandy couch like so much fish and the phone rang. It was AT&T Universal Card and they were apologizing for the late call. I immediately assumed something had gone amiss when they charged the card or something, until I quickly remembered I hadn’t used that card. No, they were calling to tell me that Bamboo Village had called them to say I’d left my handy-dandy wallet in the restaurant. I thanked the nice lady profusely, called the restaurant and thanked the owner profusely and then drove over (they were closed, but he waited for me) and picked up the wallet. How senile is that? Well, it’s a first, thank goodness, and hopefully a last. And how cool is Bamboo Village, first of all for being honest, second of all for having the presence of mind to call the credit card company and third of all for waiting for me? Pretty damn cool in my book (Chapter 18 – The Bamboo Village is The Damn Coolest). So, my recommendation is that if you must leave your wallet somewhere, do it at the Bamboo Village.
My that was a long and pointless story. Have I mentioned that it reeks of Orange Chicken around these parts? Have I mentioned that this is the last day of February and how quickly February flew by, rather like an Olympic high-speed runner on his way to eat Ethiopian food. Let’s all be like Olympic high-speed runners on their way to eat Ethiopian food and see how fast we can click on that Unseemly Button below. On your mark… Get set… Go!
Wow, that was fast, rather like an Ethiopian high-speed runner on his way to Olympic Blvd.
I recently watched a lovely DVD of a lovely “small” film entitled My Bodyguard. It’s not a masterpiece or anything, but it’s a nice piece of work, well directed by Tony Bill and wonderfully acted by Chris Makepeace, Adam Baldwin, Ruth Gordon and Matt Dillon. It’s hard not to love a movie with its heart in the right place, and a movie in which bullies get their comeuppance. There have been many movies in which bullies get their comeuppance and they are usually hits, because it’s a very satisfying plot device – you can’t help but cheer. Stories about underdogs are usually hits if they are made well. The Karate Kid, Rocky – the list is endless, really. Anyway, the DVD looks spiffy and it was fun to see it after all these years.
I’ve also been watching The Men Who Killed Kennedy, a fascinating and extremely long multi-part documentary (five hours). I’ll have more to say on this when I’ve finished it.
Yesterday, I visited Dr. Chew and he made my teeth all clean and sparkly. I had no cavities (in fact, I have only had one cavity in the last thirty-two years) and he said my teeth were in excellent shape. Dr. Chew is a wonderful dentist and very good at his job. When our very own Vinnie chipped his tooth, I sent him right over to Dr. Chew who fixed him right up. Dr. Chew gave me a brand spanking new tooth brush, too. And free floss, even though I have many containers of floss – in the house, in the car, one simply can’t have enough floss. I will, in fact, floss at the drop of a hat. The only problem is this: Does anyone still wear a hat? I will also floss at the drop of a dead bean. I will floss at the drop of any old thing. Have you ever had a dead bean? In Mexico they are called Frijoles Muerte and are quite popular at certain establishments in out of the way places, such as Avenido de Sammy Pitkin.
We didn’t have many desert island movie responses yesterday. Are we tired of the desert island? Okay, for today’s topic of discussion let’s do one that’s been popular on some other websites: If you could go back in time and attend one opening night of a musical, what would it be? For me, I suppose, it would be Gypsy, with Miss Ethel Merman. Post away about that and any other topics you’d care to discuss.