Is Anyone Else Scared Sh*tless?

Posted on July 17, 2014 by Professor Taboo

I have done a horrible job of staying on top of my blog here and following the many blogs I enjoy following. For those of you here now who haven’t forgotten about me, THANK YOU! I appreciate so much your loyalty! I will jump over to your blogs no matter how hectic my summer schedule becomes or has surprisingly become despite what I thought would be a relaxing, blog-writing and commenting summer break. Grrrrrrr!

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As my family and I approach my Dad’s 24^th anniversary of passing away to suicide, today I want to reflect back on one of his most memorable, most classically funny moments he and my grandfather made for me and my family. This is one I have never forgotten.

My Grandpa Bonnet had a wonderful simple sense of humor. It was that humor you find in small country Texas towns from farmers, ranchers, and cowboys. As long as I had known my Grandpa Bonnet, nothing ever seemed to get under his skin or ruffle his feathers because he could always find some comical interpretation to life’s curve-balls. Everyone in my family loved it, my Dad especially. Granny Bonnet, not so much. Even if Granny Bonnet was in a tirade, Grandpa would find the humor in something. Many times it egged-on Granny making us begin to chuckle under our breath hoping she would not see or hear us. It was hilarious, especially when Granny finally left the room!

One holiday weekend myself, my sister, Mom, Dad, Granny Bonnet, and Grandpa Bonnet all climbed into Grandpa’s 1963 yellow Chevy Impala. I can’t remember now where we were going – it didn’t matter then – but it couldn’t have been too far because McDade was a tiny remote town in central Texas where they had lived for several years. McDade was famous because of the twin-knob hills in the distance where a famous wild-west shoot-out took place, not too unlike what happens today in our great “free” Lone-Star-for-a-reason state (wink).

My sister, Mom, and Granny were sitting in the back seat. Dad and I sat up front with Grandpa, who was driving. I wasn’t real sure why all the women sat in the back that day, but now that I’m older, wiser, and an eighth-generation Texan, I now have a very good idea. But on this day, and hindsight being 20/20, I would have been more than happy to be in the trunk!

Blind squirrel!

It was well after 12-noon, a pleasant summer evening, and we were on one of the many two-lane-only state highways in the middle of nowhere near McDade. Grandpa loved to talk and tell his simple stories. Granny also liked to talk, non-stop, but not in story-form. Her chatter was everything that was wrong or could go wrong, remarkably and often circling back to Grandpa. Granny Bonnet was the epitome of an incessant worry-wart. As I reached my teen-years, I began to see clearly why Grandpa Bonnet had such a fantastic sense of humor and thick skin.

The first sign our “family drive” was to be exciting was when we approached something centered in the middle of the highway and unflinching. My Grandfather and Dad noticed it. It was a squirrel sitting up on its hind-legs seemingly as brave (or stupid) as squirrels-in-the-road can be. In fact, I thought it was a fake stuffed-animal it was so perfectly still. Grandpa began talking to the rodent like a Squirrel-whisperer, “Move little guy. You better move!” Nothing. The idiot squirrel just sat there like a stone statue. My sister in the back seat sat up, amazed that it wouldn’t run off. She too begged it to run. We were only seconds away now…Grandpa kept a steady 55 mph, not slowing down one bit. We approached, Grandpa centered his yellow Impala straight at it, I thought so he could pin it to the radiator or hood!? My eyes widened and the gasps began. Still that damn stupid animal would not budge! The women began screaming at Grandpa in horror “STOP! STOP Grandpa!” as we drove over it, but Grandpa only chuckled more with each closing foot! “Murderer!” I heard my sister yell. I waited to hear the thumps underneath the floorboard trickling from front, right down our shoe-soles to the back.

Total silence.

Then EVERYONE, including Grandpa, jerked our heads and gaping mouths rearward to see the carnage…

And as if to say “I won!” that squirrel sat exactly where he stood, unmoved, unscathed! It was the most astonishing death-wish-gone-wrong I’d ever seen. It was impossible for anyone to express this miracle of life because Granny was screaming undecipherable words at Grandpa even my Mom had never heard! I stared at Grandpa and he just chuckled at every sentence Granny tried to complete. I looked over at my Dad and he was doing the same thing, but face forward to escape Granny’s verbal wrath. Swept up by the moment, I let burst my laughter too. Now Granny was getting furious with anyone in the front seat!

As we continued down the two-lane-only highway, without missing a beat or miles per hour, Grandpa just HAD to share his newly discovered squirrel-stew recipe. Talk about the live definition of inciting, Grandpa had decades of experience and the war-medals to prove it (wink)! It was all my Dad could do not to multiply the soft mumbled jokes coming from Grandpa. In the front seat, one joke would lead to another simple story. In the back seat, more high-pitched cackling with each non-response from Grandpa – he was in the middle of a story! Grandpa would face my Dad and I while talking, making sure we could hear him. The more Granny bitched at Grandpa, the more Grandpa would chuckle and grin at us to make louder his point.

Right about that moment I noticed things hitting and pinging the underside of the car. I sat way up to get a better view, “now what!?” Ahead was a slow drifting right-curve, not sharp, but nonetheless going in a direction that was clearly not straight. I looked up at Grandpa and he was waist-deep in his story, trying to keep at least an equal decibel level to Granny, Mom, and my sister in back, but looking uninterrupted at my Dad. I snapped back to the highway in front, that was less in front. I looked back at Grandpa trying to impolitely interrupt him politely! I snapped my head to Dad; did he see my face at all!?

Um, is anyone else scared shitless as I am right now!? Hello!

Our fast-moving Chevy Impala was now ever-so-slightly beginning to lean left as the highway ever-so-gradually moved to the right! It had become so loud between Granny’s verbal tirade at Grandpa and Grandpa’s grand story about squirrel barbecuing, that no one could hear the gravel hitting the tires and floorboard! I glanced back to Dad – perhaps to take one last look at him in life – and as Grandpa drew a breath and Granny was exhausted, just as calm and serious as an airline pilot preparing everyone for impact, my Dad said…

“Mr. Bonnet,” and my Dad pointed forward, “Is that the McDade water-tower up ahead?”

Grandpa looked, why yes it was…and in that instance the right-side tires fell off the shoulder and gravel began shooting out everywhere! He jerked the steering wheel right and corrected our direction from bumpy doom into cedar-fence posts, to the intended path of proper motor vehicles with just a few clumps of grass packed in the front bumper; the cows would never miss! Saved!

Grandpa began laughing uncontrollably! Shocked, I couldn’t decide if he was laughing so hard at my Dad’s question, or if he was laughing more at Granny’s renewed vocabulary at him. We must have heard thirty different versions of “You’re suppose to look at the road when you drive Felix, not get us splattered with the cows!” Needless to say, there was no silence all the way home. And I’ve never seen my Grandpa grin at me so much for so long a drive. Normal? I imagine so after some of the words and phrases I learned from Granny. Insane? Hell yeah! Between stoned-up squirrel, squirrel barbecuing, shifty highways, a furious non-stop cackling old Granny, and two adult men laughing in the face of vehicular off-roading disaster and the back-seat narrative that went with it? Yeah, totally insane, but totally rad!

Miss those new moments Dad, but I keep ones like this forever. Thank you.

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Live Well — Love Much — Laugh Often — Learn Always

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Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at https://professortaboo.wordpress.com.

Heraclitus and The Oak

Posted on June 17, 2014 by Professor Taboo

The Master and his warrior-student rested under a massive oak tree near the stream. “Look Teacher,” said the proud young warrior, “I will become as big and famous as this oak!” banging his sword against its trunk. The Master sighed and told this ancient story…

Sitting under a tree much the same as this one, understanding his place in Nature, a very wise humble man once said, “No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.” On hearing this sage’s words the Oak and the nearby slender reeds argued. A wind blew and the great Oak stood proudly upright with its hundred arms up into the sky. The reeds however, swayed and bowed low under the wind.

“You have reason to complain,” said the Oak to the reeds. “The slightest breeze ruffles the water and makes you bow your heads, while I, the mighty Oak, stand tall and firm against the tempest.”

“Do not worry about us,” replied the reeds. “The winds do not harm us. We bend before them and so do not break. You, in all your pride and strength, have so far resisted, yes. But as the old Sage says, this is not the same river, this is not the same wind, and now you are not the same tree.”

“Pfffft” boasted the giant oak, “Non-sense! We are oak. It has always been this way! We will stand forever!”

As the proud Oak spoke, a great storm rushed in from the north. The Oak stood more proudly fighting against the storm, while the reeds yielded and swayed. The wind’s fury doubled then doubled again, and all at once the great tree fell, torn up by the roots and lying among the pitying reeds.

And looking upon the fallen Oak that wise Sage said, “Better to yield when it is folly to resist, than to resist arrogantly and be destroyed.”

The Master turned to his over-zealous student, and added “If you learn no temperance, your arrogance will be your folly. Even the unmovable is one day moved. Learn your place; embrace your place humbly.”

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This work by Professor Taboo is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at https://professortaboo.wordpress.com.

Summer Time

Posted on June 3, 2014 by Professor Taboo

At last the school year has ended and once again I find myself with a bit more free time. More free to recharge batteries. More free to reflect on what has been done, what needs refining, and what needs more attention in the future. Free for more time to do things I enjoy doing for myself, like more blogging. One summer project I am very excited about and looking forward to this June is watching every single game of the FIFA World Cup in Brazil, cheering my two national teams: USA and Brazil!

It is my hope that during these short two and a half months I will be able to post much more often than once a month. With that said, I’d like to ask my followers — if they have not already and understandably forgotten about me — what they would like to know, or what subjects you would be interested in me writing about. The floor is open, the mic is open; let me hear your suggestions or questions. I shall do my best to accommodate… within reason naturally.

I will also do my best to catch-up with my many other blogging friends and their posts who I have unwillingly been absent! My sincere apologies. If anyone knows of a way to add MORE hours to a mere 24-hour day, please, I beg you tell me! I have really missed blogging and reading and commenting with all of you this past school year. Let’s reconnect!

Therefore, of my followers, is there or are there any subject(s) you would be interested in me writing about or discussing? Anything at all. If not, I should be posting with my next topic shortly.

Have a fantastic summer! I plan to!

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Shrike or Shriek

Posted on October 28, 2013 by Professor Taboo

Paying homage this Halloween I will howl one of nature’s prettiest and deadliest masked predators. If you and your children are out in suburbs or rural flat-lands costumed to the max trick-or-treating, leave your pet insect or little pet reptile safely at home! There is a little cute bird out that would cast nicely into even the most horrific Stephen King movie. I do not speak of your typical vampire bats or Edgar Allen Poe’s raven. The Aves Lanius, better known as the “butcher bird” or Shrike, impales and proudly displays its victims out in the open for all to see; well, sort of. But do not let the Shrike’s dainty behavior or harsh song fool you. When it is on the hunt, its killer instinct can rival many a Jurassic carnivore.

Beware! And don’t dress-up as an alien grasshopper or mousy-looking short-eared rabbit…or else!

These birds are remarkably conniving and sinister. They hunt insects of all sizes, mice, lizards; even small birds are not safe in their lethal beaks. Then, as if the gruesome scene had been meticulously planned, their crazed serial-killer DNA find the nearest meat-hook to impale their meal…or worse, merely for show to attract a mate!

Now I ask you, what better scarier freakier creature is more suited for Halloween?

Many Shrikes do not possess the strength in their talons like a true raptor. However, this little cold-blooded killer does possess a strong hooked bill to grip the flesh, and a notch or tooth at its tip in order to sever the spinal-cord of its captive. When it is ready to prepare the brutal feast, it will push the prey down a thorn or barbed-wire and as the video above shows, begin ripping into the victim’s flesh. I ask has this bird been watching any of the movie-series Saw and its sequels. Or perhaps those movies and others are inspired by this natural ornithological predator.

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I know this, my squeamish stomach has never liked Hollywood blood and gore during Halloween or anytime of the year. Hell, in the first Halloween movie I almost lost it when Michael hung that man on the kitchen wall with the large cooking knife! I can sort of handle the Shrike’s behavior; it is a matter of survival and continuation of the species. And isn’t that genetic-wiring in many species here on Earth…including humans? Ahhhhhhhh!

Care to share your homage to Halloween? Shrike or shriek…who or what is your scary Halloween tale?

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A Bigger Shovel

Posted on August 31, 2013 by Professor Taboo

Limited Liability Clause: The names in this post have been changed to protect my body, my blog, and my personal property. Thus…

The limit of liability of this blog-author to the hyper-sensitive reader for any cause or combination of causes of mental and/or emotional duress shall be, in the total amount, limited to the fees paid under this post or $3.00 USD, whichever is greater or more fun.

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Benton courteously poured my second glass of Shiraz-Cab vintage 2012 as his wife Vidal asked me again puzzled, “What do you mean they required a specimen?” A peculiar silence filled the room. Even the perky ears of their toy Cairn-Manchester-mix terrier snapped to attention waiting on my answer.

Professor: Well, it was a matter of life and death, at the very least, image.

Vidal: What did you do?

Professor: I looked right into the tech’s eyes and with polite confidence said, You’re going to need a bigger container. She placed her hand below her neck and with bigger eyes whispered faintly “Oh my!”

It isn’t every day that someone stumbles upon crude unrecognizable tools in the heart of Sasquatch country. The primatologist needed more proof. Can you blame him? How big do you think they are? What would you need?

This leads me to another moral-of-the-story…story.

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A mutual friend of Benton, Vidal, Delilah, and me, who was back in town visiting after moving back home to Kansas (no not Dorothy) is an adventurous curious lady I will call Ahmouray. We had gotten together for wine, snacks, and folly just for her and to hear the latest in her life. As it turns out the “latest” was a gentleman that restored old tractors and she had to immediately show us an iPhone picture of he and she next to his latest John Deere. Embracing each other with huge happy smiles, this tractor’s engine and wheels reached above their shoulders; massive! Ahmouray was obviously bubbly with excitement. You had to agree, Mr. John Deere had a big…

tractor.

Benton: How long have you known him?

Ahmouray: Two months. He is really sweet to me. It feels really right.

[Vidal is sulking trying to keep her lips tight]

Benton: Remember what happened to Mr. Wright #IV? – Referring to the last pathological liar with Alzheimer and a former police officer and priest. Yes, a priest and they met on Match.com. She married him after 6-months of dating and 1-month after moving in together.

Professor: Does he work on you as well as he works on his John Deere’s? I’d hate for you to fall into another disaster.

Vidal: [pops-off] …Or will he be another Dear John?

Ahmouray: I understand what you all are saying, but I am 62-years old. I don’t have an eternity!

Professor: It is okay to be alone sometimes. There is no set deadline for true companionship! Quality takes time unless you are a gifted psychic. Besides, you will have other man-husbands in your next lives too so don’t stress about how “little time you have to live!” Enjoy the freedom you have right now!

Ahmouray: I don’t believe God made me to be alone. I know Professor you and I differ on the meaning of this life, death, and God, but I am most happy as a well-cared for wife.

Delilah: Not any or every man who comes along with shining-armor, a smooth tongue, muscular body, and beautiful hair and tractors will be Mr. Wright #V!

Professor: And many Mr. Wright #IV – IX who are “priests” are on the internet! They call them virtual predators when they’re not in church! [looking toward Benton] Or does it matter where they are?

Ahmouray: I don’t have forever to look!

Professor: Hmm, especially if you have only a garden spade. [grin]

Vidal: [directed at Professor] What is the preferred size?

Benton: Doesn’t it depend on the amount of dirt or how pretty you want your…garden?

Professor: Exactly! Some need only a garden spade, others require front-loaders with dump trucks. I guess it depends on what you’re constructing. How deep the foundation should be depends on how long it will last, how much it will withstand, or what you’re digging up, huh?

Ahmouray: We have so much fun together! We talked over three hours on the phone last night. He is so nice to me. He has a Dachshund! [with a much peppier voice] Do you realize what that means!?

Dachshunds are Ahmouray’s favorite dogs. Her previous Mr. Wright #IV was also (as it turned out) a dog-lover on his internet profile, but in reality never owned a dog in his life. He never liked Ahmouray’s two dogs either.

Professor: Are you going to tell me next the dog’s name is Toto?

Ahmouray: No. Its name is Lady.

Professor: As in Gaga?

Ahmouray: No silly, as in Kenny Rogers!

At that point I believe the rest of us simultaneously downed our wine in two gulps. I asked Benton where the bottle was…he quickly got out of his recliner and said “I’ll get it and open another.” Expressing my “deep” appreciation I also asked our host and hostess, “Do you two prefer a spade or shovel?”

Vidal: If we are at an AA-NA meeting (her daughters are both addicts) spades are usually appropriate because of the group monitor/leader. [Benton agreed then added…]

Benton: But with this group shovels must be handy!

Professor: And at church?

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