Muskrat Love

Up until ten this morning, I thought that fig picking was the bottom of the barrel, job-wise. Oh sure, you can make the case that septic tank pumper, or porta-john man is worse, but that depends on your definition of worse.

My revelation began innocently enough. I bought Sneedlet a book at Costco yesterday, the kind of book that makes sounds to match the story. This particular book was broken and made nary a sound. So this morning we took it back.

Costco doesn't do exchanges, they just give your money back and you can buy a replacement or not. We had to traipse into the store and get another book. We found the books, got one that worked and were headed for the register, when the sound of something approximating music wafted through the air.

Muskrat, muskrat candlelight....blah, blah, blah....It looks like muskrat love. Pure poetry.

I wandered over to the source of the sound and it turned out to be a sixtyish couple demonstrating a karaoke machine. Maybe it's because I'm not a spotlight sort of person, but I can't imagine any job less appealing than standing in Costco belting out the Greatest Hits of Captain and Tennille. Then, of course, I already know that I can't sing that well and don't need a damned karaoke machine to prove it. Wait a darn minute, maybe they were the actual Captain and Tennille.

Whether you are hauling actual sewage or enduring the disbelieving stares and eye rolls of the patrons of Costco, you're still taking crap. I'd prefer the former to the latter.

Side note: Darrell Dragon, aka Captain is emphatic that the duo was Captain and Tennille, not The Captain and Tennille. Don't forget it.

Then I got the brainstorm to take the kid to the movies. My plan was to see Night at the Museum, since there were no actual kid's movies playing. I figured it would be entertaining enough for him. Unfortunately, I messed up the start time for that. I was going to leave, but his honor had his heart set on the movies, or at least the kid snack-pack that they sell at the movies. So I decided that he could sit or sleep through Amazing Grace.

I can now say that I have seen the first half-hour of Amazing Grace, because that is how long it took him to start demanding that we leave, in his best loud whinny voice. It was either endure the slings and arrows of the other ten patrons or retreat. We left, to a smattering of applause.

For the suckers who showed up early for the movie, the theater operator played some kind of preview feature package. It featured promos for a couple of currently-released and soon-to-be released movies, plus a load of full-length commercials. Commercials for Coke, Kleenex, some video game or another and some that I forget. Maybe you already know this, but I was surprised to learn that Chef-Boy-Ar-Dee is still making canned spaghetti. Who knew?

The lovely Mrs. Sneed will be home this evening and life will return to normal around here. Probably none too soon for Sneedlet or me.


Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor