Mind Meanderings April 29th, 2019

Have you ever said, “I’d pay good money for that.”  Wonder why we say that? Money is neither good nor bad… it’s the person carrying the wallet who loves money too much that is bad… I’d pay good money to fine out. 

It may go back to Confederate money; I found some recently amongst my barn of treasures in plastic tubs—40 years of ‘junking’ adds up.  But, on eBay, Confederate money is now worth more than Good Money.  I’m not sure you can sell Confederate Money on eBay; you can’t sell Nazi stuff that’s a for sure/10/4 good buddy.  I knew a man who collected all things Nazi and kept them in his closet.  I was one of the few friends who he let see them, according to his wife.  I asked, “Why in the world would you collect such things?”  He said we must remember the Holocaust DID happen and never forget…. He teared up a bit—a Navy man who saw things that no one should have to see.

I took the Nazi helmet and smelled its insides (I have the superpower of super smelling especially for stepped on ducks and Nazi helmets).  The leather inside the helmet?  Still smelled of his hair oil.  So, freaking freaky.  To smell a dead Nazi’s hair oil.  And who says I have a dull life?  I’m almost an Avenger with my honker nose abilities.

My mind is wandering and wondering today.

And that saying, “I met him and don’t understand all the ‘Fall de Rah’.”  I like to have a lot of ‘Fall de Rah’.

I have a habit of turning my head from side to side and ‘cracking’ my neck.  Sometimes very loudly.  Once, I was on a federal jury for six weeks—driving 70 miles one way twice a day for six weeks—and my idiot boss got ‘onto’ me for being selected for federal jury.  Ugh.

Anyways, during the torturous testimony which was all about accounting discrepancies…. I cracked my neck and it was the LOUDEST bone crack in the history of bone cracking… the judge looked at me and winked and said in the federal court record, “Hey, even I heard that from up here!”…. glad it was neck cracking noise…. My granddad used to pass gas as we walked in the stables and would lift his leg and say, “Oh, I stepped on a duck.”  I sure didn’t want to ‘step on a duck’ in federal courtroom.

But I’d pay good money to hear someone else step on a loud, squishy, gravy-sounding duck…

MORE MEANDERINGS SOON—When it rains, I stay inside and meander in my mind!