Today’s edition: Advice on what to do if you find money burning a hole in your pants; why it’s time to spend an entire day in bed; and new Zeitgust word of the week.
Colorful Living Tip of the Day (I) …
861: Argue in favor of America declaring a “National No One Gets Out of Bed Day” holiday and contend it ought to be every Tuesday (see related post below).
Random Hot Pants Advice …
If you ever have money burning a hole in your pants, the first thing you should do is run to the nearest store that sells flame retardant underwear.
Arnold Palmer: On This Day in …
1966 -- Palmer’s regular Augusta caddie, Nathaniel “Iron Man” Avery, says Palmer is a master competitor. “It’s always going to be all or nothing with that man,” he says. “This man doesn’t know how to play it safe. He tugs at his glove, jerks at his trousers and starts walking fast when he starts charging. He says, ‘Let’s go, Iron Man, the game is on.’
Today’s Reason to Visit Latrobe, Mister Rogers’ REAL Neighborhood …
A greater percentage of our residents knows by heart Fred Rogers’ quotes like this one: “The three keys to ultimate success are ‘Be kind. Be kind. And be kind.’”
Zeitgust Word of the Week (a word I made up with the goal of getting it into a dictionary) …
Cannibler: A picky eater of human flesh; a cannibal with an eating disorder.
Days Until Pittsburgh Steelers Come To Latrobe for Training Camp: 209
What to do today in the Laurel Highlands …
• Step outside and with social distancing in mind patronize one of Westmoreland County’s many stalwart businesses that were closed in the hopes of easing the holiday pandemic surge. (Westmoreland Co. Chamber of Commerce.
• Get some New Year’s takeout from Rizzo’s Malabar Inn: For reasons I cannot fathom, I looked across the Rizzo’s parking lot and forgot I was in Crabtree. I could have sworn I was in Korea during the war. I was in a M*A*S*H triage unit with dozens of other needy men and women. But we didn’t need surgery. We needed spaghetti. Covid restrictions have turned the popular Italian destination restaurant into a marvel of speedy and efficient takeout. Customers pull in, lineup and wait by their cars as waitstaff retrieve orders. They then deliver reasonably priced and delicious Italian food to be sent home for consumption. It’s all done with with the kind of easy cheer you’d expect from Hawkeye and Trapper John. Maybe that’s why I thought of Korea, not Crabtree. Both M*A*S*H and Rizzo’s excel at meatball surgery.
• Give your new gun a go. A&S Indoor Pistol Range is a great place to go ballistic.
Colorful Living Tip No. (II)…
567: Open a fast food restaurant that uses really seasoned vegetable oils for fried chicken, etc. Call it “Ancient Grease.”
Today’s post …
America needs a “National No One Gets Out of Bed Day”
Getting out of bed on winter mornings makes me feel like a World War I soldier being ordered at gunpoint to vault out of the trench into No Man’s Land, certain to face heroic annihilation.
It’s below dreary. Shoveling snow is in the forecast. The stupid dog’s stubbornly resistant to my efforts to teach him the benefits of indoor plumbing. And I have to get out of bed.
Sleep is at its most precious when you become aware its end is imminent. That’s when you know it’s time to haul your sorry butt out of bed and begin engaging in the mundane tasks that constitute being a responsible adult. You shave, you shower and you switch on the news to hear the latest pandemic news.
And that’s how our day begins
Sure, something good may or may not happen during the next 17 or so hours of wakefulness, but guaranteed something bad will happen. You’ll get stuck in traffic. The kids will sass you. You’ll spend every step outdoors fretting your next might cause you to slip and snap a wrist. Either way, you’re forced to leave one of the most wonderful and happy places on earth — your very own bed — for one of the most dangerous and forbidding — the world at large.
When was the last time you stayed in bed just for the happy hell of it?
Being sick doesn’t count. That’s no fun. I’m talking about staying in your jammies and eating nothing but Pop-Tarts, popcorn and pizza all day long.
I’ll bet for me it’s been about 30 years.
It’d be one thing if I could look back on the last three decades and marvel at all I’ve accomplished, but regular readers of my blog know just how self-delusional that would be.
You can have your globe-trotting bucket list. More and more, my dream vacation is one where I don’t even brush my teeth until after “The Price Is Right” host Drew Carey reminds me to get my pet spayed or neutered.
Maybe it’s time for America to consider having a “National No One Gets Out of Bed Day” and the first one’s tomorrow. Or maybe we should just rename Tuesdays and have it once a week. People would be more rested, chipper and cheerful knowing we had something soulful to look forward to. Sure, some people in need of essential medical care would expire, but death on days like this beats getting out of bed.
I wonder if my feelings are particularly acute because Val and I share a waterbed. I don’t know when fad waterbeds fell out of favor. Did some old hippie drown in one and I missed all the bad press?
I sometimes wonder if we’re the last couple on earth to enjoy a waterbed. The funny thing is we were both waterbed devotees when we met. And we both drove Saturns, too!
Yes, it was in the stars.
Mine was one of my first purchases when I got a job and moved away to live on my own. I became enamored with them back in the days when every mall in America had a waterbed store. They’re heavenly. Getting into a waterbed with someone cuddly is one of the most pleasant experiences in human existence.
So getting out of one under the same circumstances is one of the worst. And that’s how I begin every single day of my life.
Many people compare being in a waterbed to what it was like in the womb. It’s better for me, even, because my waterbed doesn’t get smoker’s cough like Mom did when she was nursing a three-pack-a-day habit while pregnant with me.
Just thinking about it is giving me one of those out-of-body experiences filled with rapturous reveries.
Too bad I again convinced myself I really ought to give a crap which means it’s just another day destined to be full of out-of-bed experiences
Colorful Living Tip (III) …
455: Toast du jour: “May you one day be as happy as all your Facebook friends mistakenly think you are based on misleading posts and pics.”
Oddly enough …
Mt. Washington, N.H.: Weather tourists risk life and limb to enjoy Mother Nature at her worst.
The world’s worst weather isn’t in at either of the polar extremes, Siberia or
other godforsaken places. Nope, it’s in New Hampshire. Author William Lowell
Putnam, writes: “There may be worse weather, from time to time, at some forbidding place on Planet Earth, but it has yet to be reliably recorded.” Mount Washington has the record wind speed of a whopping 231 mph (hurricanes blow at a measly 80 mph). Amazingly, some of the weather may actually be worse than the chilly records indicate. Mount Washington also holds the record for most weather instruments destroyed.
The Page 1 “Crayons!” Pledge (still applies)
The Book Is STILL Free
That’s right. Free. Anyone who wants a copy mailed to his or her home, no charge, is welcome to one. Just ask.
Author Chris Rodell, of course, encourages you to buy it and hopes you’ll support him and the people who distribute, promote and sell books. But if you’re one of those Americans who are out of work and having a tough time, or if you know a US serviceman or woman who might benefit from a book that aims to brighten daily lives, then Rodell wants you to get in touch at storyteller@chrisrodell.com.
He doesn’t believe a book that, at its heart, aims to help people be happy should be withheld from anyone over a few dollars. “It’s said the best things in life—love, friendship, laughter—are free,” Rodell says. “I don’t presume this book is among the best things in life but, by God, there’s nothing to say it can’t keep good company.”
And finally …
“Crayons Tip no. 1001” … “Learn the fine art of knowing precisely when to quit.”
About …
Chris Rodell is the author of six books, the most recent being “Undaunted Optimist: Essays on Life, Laughter & Cheerful Perseverance.” Pennsylvania Gov. Tom Ridge says, “Rodell writes about life the way Sinatra sings about New York, unflinching about the gritty realities, but with abiding affection and relentless positivity abut the future.”
A swashbuckling freelance writer since 1992, Rodell has rassled alligators, raced Ferraris, jumped out of cloud-cruising airplanes and in one week gained 20 pounds eating like Elvis.
Besides unconventional biographies on Fred Rogers and Arnold Palmer, his other books include “Use All The Crayons! The Colorful Guide To Simple Human Happiness,” and “The Last Baby Boomer: The Story of the Ultimate Ghoul Pool,” a 2016 satiric novel about the life and death of the last baby boomer (winner of the ’17 TINARA Award for best satire).
He is a sought-after and entertaining motivational public speaker and as seen in this 2015 clip the recipient of the greatest author ovation of all-time.
Rodell lives in Latrobe with his wife Valerie, their daughters, Josie and Lucy, and a small loud dog named Snickers.
He’ll write for anyone who’ll pay him. He is a PROSEtitute.
All Chris’s books can be purchased through www.ChrisRodell.com