After The Check Left blues
October 27, 2017
After so much excitement leading to the money giveaway, I’m suffering post-partem-with-the-dough depression.
So I must put the negative feelings away, face the music, look the gift horse in the mouth and do another giveaway. It’s going to happen but I’m starting to lean toward giving less mullah to more peeples. In other words instead of 500 bucks I’m going to decrease it a little and give away 50 cents per each Saturday.
This will give more people a chance to win, help me stay within the budget Michele just slapped down and still keep the level of excitement up there with my readers, right where it was when Dan cleaned house. My house.
Here’s this fancy-Dancy winner (with the name appropriate name of Dan), suddenly-rich blog follower who is probably making every stop along his route, whether he has a package or not, and bragging about his winnings until his customers tire of the unwanted delivery and slam the door.
I’m telling you, I worked a lot harder for that money than he did.
And then, to top it off, some dude cried foul concerning the drawing. In fact, a couple dudes. One dud said “Rigged”. The other dud said I should be audited.
But I don’t have to answer to them. Only to the Great Auditor in the sky and that’s probably still a few days off unless I fall off a corn bin tomorrow.
And if anyone really does question my name picking veracity, they should talk to my wife. She watched me count and tally the numbers and names to get the correct one each week.
So to snap me out of this post-partem of the dough, I decided to watch the World Series tonight. Some cool things happened.
Before the Series, the news informed me that Fats Domino died at the fat and ripe old age of 89. This is the best news I’ve heard in a long time. I’ve thought for decades that if I packed around an extra 50 lbs like Fats, I wouldn’t live much past the age of 60.
Now I know that that old wives tale is rubbish. Fats got almost thirty years more than his doctor prophesied.
For once Nightly News brought me some news of hope, something I can and want to believe.
And then the Series. Before the game, they honored Vin Scully, an old game broadcaster in LA who is about the same age as Fats D. I looked up Vin’s vitals and found that he was born on Dec. 29, 1927. This is cool for me because my dad was born one day before Vin. Same month, same year.
Another cool thing is Dad’s middle name was Vere which starts with the same letter as Vin.
And the last cool thing is Vin Scully is five-foot ten-inches. You’re never going to believe this. I am 5′ 10″ too!
A related blog, back when I started, concerned my dad and strange twists of fate. If you’ve got the time, we’ve got the blog.
It can be found here: