Be My Superman

Honey, we’ve been together so very long,
is it time to be moving on?
But wait, why can’t we still stay together?
After all, we still love each other.
We’ve hit troubled waters, can’t you see?
Why can’t we just love each other like they do on TV?

I’ll be your Lois if you be my Superman.
I’ll be your Terry if you be my Nickie.
I’ll be your Mimi if you be my Guy.
I’ll be your Nora if you be my Nick.

Maybe we can start all over,
as long as we’re together.
We’ll take it like they in the movies,
no matter what happens, we’ll be happy.
As long as we don’t break into reality,
we can do it like they do it on TV.

I’ll be your Lois if you be my Superman.
I’ll be your Terry if you be my Nickie.
I’ll be your Mimi if you be my Guy.
I’ll be your Nora if you be my Nick.

Those wouldn’t be good enough for me,
I want to go for all the glory.

I’ll be your Lombard if you be my Gable.
I’ll be your BaCall if you be my Bogart.
I’ll be your Allen if you be my Burns.
I’ll be your Evans if you be my Rogers.

© 2014 ck’s days

Insanity

From a recent Facebook post of mine:

I just reheard this definition from Albert Einstein:
“Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”

Hmm, perhaps, for example, and I’m just throwing this out there, like inserting a DVD in the player and getting an error message so ejecting it.

Continue reading

The dentist

A couple of months ago I went to the dentist. Not a big deal, right? No, not for most people but for me it was a little different. I hadn’t been to the dentist for over ten years. Before you tsk-tsk me I have to proudly tout the fact 0 cavities. None. Zilch. But I did have a filling separating from the tooth that “should probably be replaced.”

So I went this week to have it replaced.

I told my co-worker I was leaving early to go to the dentist. She said, “It reminds me of that old Christmas movie of the elf that wanted to be a dentist.   Which one is that?”

“Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer,” I replied without hesitation.

“What?” another coworker chimed in.

“It’s Herbie the Elf,” I decided to go into detail. “He sings the song, ‘why am I such a misfit? I am not just a nitwit.”

“Yeah,” my first coworker said. “He was a misfit.”

“I guess I have never watched that,” our coworker said.

How in the world can you be a true American and never have watched Rudolph at Christmas time? It’s not possible. Maybe my coworker is a spy?

“Silver and Gold,” I continued to sing and my first coworker joined me, “silver and gold…”

“Huh,” our coworker watched us slowly.

“I also use Herbie as my hair guide. When I get a little flip in front like he has (that I call my ‘Herbie-do’) I know it’s time to get it cut.”

This brought silence and a polite smile from my first coworker.

“You need to watch Rudolph this year,” I finished.

“Apparently I do,” my deprived coworker agreed.

To be honest though, when I think of the dentist I never thought of poor lil’ Herbie. I think of Bill.

Labor Day Project

I had the best intention

with a spurt of ambition

and just enough motivation

it was a good plan

(a good, good plan)

 

See, I got to thinking

it is time for spring cleaning

since summer is ending

as quick as it can

(quicker than I can)

 

So I spent Labor Day

slaving and toiling away

with no time to play

I took out that mess

(I moved that mess)

 

from the corners to the middle of the room

but morning became noon

and the day left too soon

and now I must confess

(of this I confess)

 

The mess is still there

in the middle without care

and I have to share

with this huge pile

(an unattractive pile)

 

My intention is non

my ambition long gone

my motivation sang its swan song

while the mess sits awhile

(a long, long while)

 

© 2014 ck’s days

Mrs. Pooh Bear

(for Bubba)

 

She can’t say

if it was love at first sight

but she will say

she fell in love with him alright.

 

She did insist –

with his red shirt down to there

who could resist

that yellow fluff-stuffed bear?

 

“I want to marry him,”

she told daddy her plan.

 

“You can’t marry him,

because he is an old man.

He is an old man,”

that was daddy’s firm stance,

“An old, old man

who doesn’t wear pants!

I can’t allow it.”

 

Daddy’s words made her blue.

But she had to accept it –

she’d never marry Winnie the Pooh.

© 2014 ck’s days