Possumblog

Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.)

Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu.

This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things.


Thursday, June 03, 2004

HOLY MOLEY!

This short week threw off my internal sundial, and here I was thinking it was Tuesday or something! I very nearly forgot to slap together Chapter 48 of Dick Terwilliger’s Astounding Tales of Idaho!

Oh, and there’s that Axis of Weevil Thursday Three, ver. 9.0 thing, too.

Well, first things first…

Today’s Threesday Thur category will be Potpourri! Hooray! Everyone loves mispronounceable stinky bits of dried vegetation!

First question: What is the most daring thing you have ever done in public?

Second question: Who was your favorite Cartwright on Bonanza?

Third question: The South has long been known as a hotbed of scientific research and innovative inventors. (Yes, really!) Assuming for a moment that you yourself are an innovative Southern inventor, what device, tool, apparatus, implement, contrivance or other synonym do you think the world is ready for?

As always, even though this quiz originates south of the Sweet Tea Line, it is not intended to exclude contributions from around the globe--from Tazmania to Timbuktu, from Saipan to Slapout, all are welcome to play along. If you have your own blog, leave a link down in the comments, otherwise, you’re welcome to post your answers there (provided you agree to get your own blog forthwith).

Now then--my answers to the quiz:

#1--I would say it would have to be when my dad and I went to the boat show when the Birmingham-Jefferson Convention Complex (nee Civic Center) first opened back in the mid-1970s. The daring part was afterwards, when we were walking back to wherever the car was parked, and both of us were overwhelmed with the urge to pee. There aren’t any such things as on-street public toilets in the entirety of the Americas, much less downtown Birmingham, and despite the distinct possibility of being caught and arrested, we both sauntered over to a somewhat sheltered landscaped area and quickly did our irrigation work. Due to the rapidity of our exercise and the deep shadows of the night, we managed to escape detection. I was about thirteen or fourteen at the time, and the idea of my dad and I both being juvenile delinquents together was very special. Of course, we had to tell Mama what we had done when we got home. She just shook her head. The incident did become one of those bit of family lore that would get brought up in conversations from time to time, just like the Gravely Tractor. (A story for another time.)

#2--Oh, come on. Gotta be Hoss! I mean, he was the only one of them who really sounded and acted like he was actually a Westerner. All the rest of the family all sounded and acted like they were from back East (except, of course, Hop Sing, who was from the Far East). Listening to Adam and Little Joe's patois was kinda like listening to that whiny Yankee brat Bud Ricks on Flipper--“Hey look, youse guys, it’s Flippah!” ANYway, Hoss was always my favorite.

#3--Well, they have those solar-powered robot lawnmowers that cut grass without anyone around, and they have those battery-powered robot vacuum cleaners that vacuum your floor while you’re gone, so I think it would be a neat idea to have something like that that goes around sidewalks and streets picking up cigarette butts and litter. I suppose they would be targets for vandals, so they probably need to be armed with skunk smell in case they’re tampered with.

(I am also still working on my Norah O’Donnell-lookalike, weed-picking robot for the yard, but it’s a real slow process.)

So there you are.


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