About Me

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Bookkeeper, tax preparer, cat lady, blogger, organizer, mystery writer.

Welcome!

I've finally decided that I am a writer - all the other things I do just pay the bills. Someone eloquent once said that if you do what you love, the money will follow. Well, let's just see about that.

RIP Aggie

RIP Aggie
Aggie was my fifteen-year-old cairn terrier - or maybe I should say I was her 55-year-old person! She was my faithful companion, spoiled rotten and I am still trying to figure out what to do without her.

Peter the Cat...

Peter the Cat...
This is Peter the gingersnap tabby! He's seven years old and has just been promoted to Peter the Very, Very Good. He is working his way up to Peter the Great...

Bee - the Cat Who Came From Somewhere Else...

Bee - the Cat Who Came From Somewhere Else...
Bee is Peter's buddy. He's eight years old and has made himself right at home. I guess cats really do come in pairs or sets of three!

And Jasper makes three!

And Jasper makes three!
Jasper is our new guy - the Cat From Another Place. He's four years old and we think he likes it here - so far, so good!

Buzz about...

Sunday, July 17, 2011

Can blonde be a recessive gene?

A Jewish man goes into a bar and orders a drink.  And then another.  After quite a few, he notices an Asian man sitting next to him.  Without warning, he punches the Asian man in the face.  Taken by surprise, the Asian man says, "What was that for?"  The Jewish man replies, "That was for Pearl Harbor!"  "You idiot!" yells the Asian man, "I'm Chinese, not Japanese."  The Jewish man shrugs and says, "Chinese, Japanese - it's all the same to me."  With that, the Asian man punches the Jewish man in the face and says, "And that's for the Titanic!"  The Jewish man rubs his jaw and says, "What are you talking about?"  The Asian man replies, "Goldberg, iceberg - it's all the same to me."
Alan Ginsberg
Daniel Ellsberg

I do have a point - so please bear with me (my maternal grandmother was a blonde).  I'm a child of the seventies and the evening news during the early part of the decade was consumed with Richard Nixon and the whole Watergate debacle.  There were so many players and so many plot twists that it was difficult for my teenage mind to keep track of them all.  Sure, I knew the main cast (Nixon, Haldeman, Ehrlichman, Liddy) but the supporting cast of thousands (or so it seemed) was a little harder to keep track of.  One thing that puzzled me for many years was exactly why Nixon thought it was a good idea to break into the office of Alan Ginsberg's psychiatrist.  I mean, what could the ramblings of a beatnik poet to his shrink have to do with Nixon and CREEP - I've always loved that acronym for the Committee to Re-Elect the President.  It applies to more incumbents than just Nixon, doesn't it?  I also couldn't understand why a man who lived in San Francisco would be seeing a psychiatrist in Washington, DC - that was a little extreme, but hey, maybe he was really concerned about anonymity.  Anyhow, last week the decades-long mystery was finally solved.  I was reading an article about Daniel Ellsberg, author of the Pentagon Papers, and realized that it was the office of his psychiatrist that the White House Plumbers broke into, not poet Alan Ginsberg.  It is indeed good to laugh at oneself, even after thirty-odd years.  And my first thought was: Ellsberg, Ginsberg - it's all the same to me.

2 comments:

  1. Love this!! You are so funny!! Louis Dean often asks me....."Heard any good stuff from Dawn lately?" I now have some new material for him! Thanks!

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  2. Thanks for a good laugh. Being a child of the same era I have lately been wondering if I should go back and relearn the "facts" of the times I have lived through.

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