More blasts from my personal past, back when I used to be good at this (LIES! I was never good at this). Too soon it's too late and smart enough is not yet. I was trying my hand at Rastafarian haiku, an obscure art form that no one who practices either of its primary disciplines is even aware of. Think of me as a ninja poet, mon.
Good that I'm here now, but it would have been gooder early in the month. Did you know last Wednesday, the 5th, was National Underwear Day? I confess I did not know that and let's just gloss over the circumstances in which I don't explain how I found it out. Mainly because there are some parole stipulations that I sometimes see as mere suggestions and I'd rather not revisit those issues. At least not with witnesses.
I currently have a New Yorker magazine cartoon desk calendar I always tell people my wife got me for Christmas-except she didn't. I bought it myself, but I was allowed to buy it only because I promised to not buy another Far Side or Dilbert one because those are my favorite desk calendars.
Someday, Dilbert and his (my) two best buddies, Calvin and Hobbes, are going to move to the Far Side and then no one will ever care again what day of the week it is, me most especially.
According to that calendar, last Monday (the 3rd) was also Picnic Day in Australia, Northern Territory (which could be Japan if you go head far enough North, 'recalculating'). This is why the Internet is so wonderful. You can find this stuff out in two clicks of a mouse tail unless you have an Apple.
Around these parts, we'd just say 'day off' but other places get fancy and make it all special. "Picnic Day"-sounds like something Yogi and Boo-Boo should be trying to outwit Ranger Smith about. Except Jellystone is NOT part of the Northern Territory, though, again, depending on the map, Indonesia could be.
My wall calendar, printed in India, also shared that last Monday was "Civic Holiday (Canada)" and I thought it was kind of lazy to not tell me which civic holiday until (you guessed it), I looked that up to discover it's actually called Civic Holiday even by people who drive Corollas. I love the admonition "so please don't work!" in the explanation.
Sometimes, I think Canadians as a different race with their boots instead of trunks and their lovely manners and Celine Dion. If you close your eyes, slightly, while in Detroit and squint, you can almost see Windsor, Ontario, as a Northern Territory. That's sort of what William Hull did, but badly.
We're nearing the end of intimate apparel week though you'll probably want to disrobe in the privacy of your own home unless my suggestion on Tumblr to make this #FullFrontalFriday catches on.
Forty-one years ago this past Sunday, Gerald R. Ford became the 38th US President as Richard M. Nixon resigned. Ford proceeded to trip over his wife, Betty's, dressing gown just to stay in practice. She was wearing it at the time.
And Sunday was also Philippines Book Lovers Day which is just a disturbing enough image for those of us with idle minds that I, for one, hope we're using the Roberts Rules of Order interpretation of Northern Territory.
-bill kenny
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