Thursday, January 18, 2007
The Repeat...it ain't just the only thing on TV!
Over and over and over and over again...I am just like the scratched 45 record that Uncle Boog was always playing at the fish camp. He would pull out his little monogrammed flask and ukulele and play along to the scratchy recording of Don Ho singing "I Love The Simple Folk."Maybe that is where my wires got crossed (and all this time I thought is was from drinking Bogalusa tap water that is laced with 100 percent pure plutonium.) A clinical study should be conducted to review if repeated exposure to Uncle Boog's 45 disc record on a cheap dusty Ron-Co record player can cause a significant slow down in the brain.
So I repeat myself again...it drives my husband absolutely crazy that he got stuck with a woman who not only walks at the speed of dark cane syrup dripping from the bottom of a Crisco can but who is also slow on the verbal draw and has a slow drip line for information absorption.
Maybe it is my roots (not just the ones that I am trying to cover every seven weeks at the hair salon) we are a slow talking culture with a lot of nothing to say. We like to commence on a topic, then take off on a tangent around the world and return to the original topic for final emphasis. For example ask one of us how to bake a red velvet cake and you will get not only the recipe but also the color of my granny's favorite apron, the flavor of cake served at the last family birthday party, an opinion on real vanilla versus the fake stuff, an aside on the latest diet Cousin LouAnne Raye is undertaking and how it is not working out so well for her to just eat that high fiber diet cause it causes her diverticulitis to flair and then we round back to the Red Velvet recipe once again with secret family ingredients revealed to create the final conversation flair.
This type of verbal tangent does not work well in this neck of the woods. All that lip flapping just allows precious, and may I add very expensive, heat to escape. In my house it is best to say it once and get it right away. Our family must be in the midst of an energy crisis that is of epic proportions. Here I thought by getting the furnace serviced every year I would be able to circumvent that worry.
It's taken me awhile to find the answer to this dilemma of trying fuse shut my motor mouth (in my world everybody is fair game for conversation) but not to explode from the build up in my vocal chords. I am looking to the great ladies from the way-up Northland. The women who quietly blazed trails and silently nursed their babies while chopping ice. I am going follow their lead right yonder to the ACE hardware store and buy an axe.
Chopping wood will be the panacea for my unfortunate ailment of repeating myself. Besides a wood pile ready to burn will alleviate my husband's worry about my excessive use of our hot air. Whenever I feel the need to repeat I can go split a log and not only release my vocal compression but also connect to the spirit of those strong silent women who lived the life....Right like I am going to break off my french tips.
I think I will have my doctor prescribe high doses of tranquilizers and wash it down with a couple of ice cold Corona Lights for dinner every night until repeating myself just isn't a problem because I am laid out on the couch with a box of Chocolate Goo-Goo Clusters in front of my husband's giant-ass TV. That will close the cosmic circle as my repeats are channeled (pun intended) into televised repeats of all of my fav-o-rite TV shows.
Chopping wood, nah, I will leave that to the strong women of quality, this redneck just wants the e-z road to martial bliss bring on the Xanax and beer...the remote is in my hot little hand.
Peace and Greens
Debalicious
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