Did Ogden Nash really write that? Or was it Dorothy Parker? I am not sure, but let’s talk about both.
First, we had a mini-ice storm yesterday and last night. The roads were a bit treacherous although the city came through it quite nicely, thank you. When I opened the window this morning, I saw a little ice on the tree limbs, and when I opened the door, although the rain that fell through the night took care of most of the ice, there were pockets of danger lurking when least expected.
It was because of these pockets, I assume, that Robert Gates, Secretary of Defense fell and broke his arm. (And remember diet Dr. Robert Atkins who some years ago fell on the ice in Manhattan and did much worse; he died.) Gates’ broken arm reminded me, as such things always do, of the time Lana Turner slipped in the bathtub and broke something else. I would guess this was 1950 or so. My grandmother’s reaction was classic. “Can you imagine,” she said, “with all that money.”
Well, the Secretary of Defense is paid to provide for the common defense, as they say, and how can he do that if he is willing to be tripped up by a little ice?
When I felt that global warming had taken sufficient effect to make movement safe, I ventured out to my car. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find my scraper in the car (of course, I didn’t look in the trunk where I assume it was (is). So, I took out my plastic ball point pen to spear the ice on the windshields, while the front and back defrosters were going full blast. I sat in the car at first, and opened the back windows, hoping that the closing window would automatically knock of the ice. But it didn’t. In fact, with the window down, the then sheets of ice remained vertical, supported by nothing extrinsic. It was quite beautiful, but they soon notice their predicament and came crashing down. Rather than falling outward, they fell inward, into the back seat of the car. It is still wet.
Ice was on television tonight as well, in an arena in Atlanta where the Caps were playing the Thrashers. We watched on television, while I was doing some home administrative chores and answering questions that Hannah had as she was filling out her financial aid application for graduate school (like “I don’t think we will give you any money” and “if they only knew that you had your great grandmother to support”; things like that). The Caps outplayed Atlanta in everyway but goal scoring. They lost in overtime/shootout 3-2. There is now a 3-way league leading tie, three teams with 60 points each.
So, let’s move to liquor. I have finally found a Spanish red wine that was undrinkable. Very hard to do, but there were clues. First, the wine was about $8 a bottle. More importantly, the wine is called Wrongo Dongo. The real question is: why did I buy it?