Author Archives: Ben Gannon

The Every Other Daily Corona: Lose Yourself

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Even though they were before my time, I love watching the old black and white Laurel and Hardy episodes.  Happy humor.  I also liked the Gong Show. Now I must confess something about embarrassing humor and the depths of which we’ve sunk to keep ourselves busy and sane, sometimes insane, when spending the majority of our time at home.

My wife and I were chilling with Alexa this morning when the song Lose Yourself, by Marshall Mathers, AKA, Eminem, began in the background.  My wife decided to bust a rhyme with Marshall.  I had no choice but to dance to her Karaoke.  Just imagine Laurel and Hardy doing this at the Apollo Theater.  That’s pretty similar to how we probably looked, just with far less talent.  Much like the Gong Show, Alexa put a halt to this very, very extraordinarily white couple singing and dancing in the bathroom with my wife taking a break from putting on her makeup. (Makeup during a pandemic???? Who does this? That’s borderline blasphemy.)

While my wife was trying to bust a rhyme,  it was more like crushing a rhyme, in the negative sense.  My dancing, with half an apple in my hand and the other half in my mouth was equally as dreadful.  However, we were able to laugh at ourselves and were wildly thankful no one was recording it.

Crazy days.  It reminds me of the year Sir Charles Barkley said, “These are crazy days.  Who would have thought that there’d be a time in our lives when the best golfer in the world was black (Tiger Woods) and the best rapper in the world was white (Eminem).”

I wish the topic was as light as that, but it isn’t.  We strive to search for laughter and smiles so we can go to bed with hope and peace in our hearts rather than fear in our minds.

Strange days indeed.

Reading?: The Every Other Daily Corona

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Chaucer, Hardy, Frost, Shakespeare, Swift and Twain.  Amongst others, they were on the long list of my required reading in college.  The latter two were a couple of my favorites.  Do I wish to go back and re-read some of their classic novels, plays or short stories during a time when we do have time on our hands?  Not me.  It’s not the type of reading meant for the toilet.  Maybe a couple of Thomas Hardy “classics” which would ultimately clog our septic system.

I do love to read, especially when it’s not required.  Even though it will be obsolete, until it is, I will still subscribe to the newspaper.  One of my favorite parts of the day is taking the Super Quiz with my wife even though the man producing it often gets bored. Subject: Different Fonts.  How riveting!  We like American culture, geographical areas, famous prisons, some science, sports,  languages and other topics besides Plain Clothing or Band Aids.  It’s fun.  I then read her the daily Seattle Rant.  These can be hilarious.  “To the man next door who keeps his ten cats in a tree on his property.  They keep me up all night caterwauling.  I hope he burns in Hell.”  I used to read the sport’s page, but, well you know.

Saying 75% of my reading is done on the toilet is probably an understatement.  When I’m interested in an article from The New Yorker (my most pretentious magazine) my wife may walk by the bathroom and politely ask me if I’m ok.  “I’m fine.  Though, I may be little sore when I exit this room.”  When the New Yorker becomes too sophisticated, I mean when those ridiculous cartoons which are somehow published for unearthly reasons become agonizingly thought demoting, I return to a favorite standby….Readers Digest.  Written at a sixth grade level, it’s right up my aisle.  Additionally, most of the publications are uplifting and educational.  If I ever decide to get a pony, I now know because of R.D., one of the pony’s many attributes is licking the skin of an unripened avocado until it’s ripe in only twenty licks.  Pretty cool.

Then there’s the internet.  I can read various articles which may or may not convince me to join certain clubs or cults.  This flat earth society one is really tricky.   I’m right on the border.  My wife would say, “You mean the border of insanity?”

I want to believe in Bigfoot, but most of the stories on the Net attempting to convince you of its existence, really just push you in the other direction.  The elusive Sasquatch was not your taxi driver.

We also like looking up lists such as the top 50 movies of all time.  We’ll make bets on who will guess the most out of the top ten.  I lost the last bet because I put Cocktail, Road House, and Breakin Two, Electric Boogaloo on the list.  Personally, I think I was robbed.  There must be a reason they are on cable all the time.

Sadly, my favorite author, Pat Conroy, passed away.  I haven’t read a novel since his passing.  Oh my God!  I almost  forgot about the Bible.  It reminds me of a movie my family has cherished for years, and has now become one of my wife’s favorites as well…  Paint Your Wagon.  Portraying a full time inebriate, Ben Rumson is played by Lee Marvin.  One of his lines after a very pious lady asks him if he’d ever read the bible was “I have read the Bible Mrs. Phinney.”  Mrs. Phinney:  “Didn’t that discourage you from drinking?”  Ben:
“No. But it sure cured my appetite for readin.”

Whether you like or don’t like the Bible, novels, the paper, magazines or any other form of reading, it still stimulates our minds.  That’s a good thing, and like the great and powerful former Vice President Dan Quayle once said, “A mind is a terrible thing to lose.”

Prayers for all.

 

The Daily Corona: The Good News

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The good news is we can watch T.V. during these trying times. The bad news is we can watch T.V. during these trying times.

tv-addictThe great news is we can watch movies like The Bad News Bears.  Anyone who doesn’t love this movie can shove it straight up their ASS!  That’s a semi direct quote from the movie.  The boy shouting this after losing the championship little league baseball game is a white haired child who believes authority is overrated. (He reminds me of someone I know.) The boy, Tanner, was suggesting where the opposing team could place their trophy.

We also knock down some Datelines from time to time, but when that becomes too much of a downer, we switch gears and check the Mafia Channel.  It takes much less time to find out who kills who.  This is definitely not “Whodunit” theater.  It also provides early morning conversations about which one of us had the worst nightmare.  Good times!

I get my exercise when Desperate Housewives of Rathdrum, Idaho shows up on our screen.  She gets hers when I switch to a Classic Major League Baseball game from the late seventies.  Pathetically, I do remember games I watched when I was six.  Hell, I even remember most of the players.  As I’ve stated previously in blogs, we both love baseball, and we miss it, but she doesn’t understand why I sometimes live in the past,

We do occasionally pry ourselves away from the T.V. long enough to take morning and evening walks with our lunatic dog, and I try to cook up something edible daily.  Well . . . this blog is getting as old and boring as watching Corona T.V..

 

 

 

The Daily Corona: Social Distancing from Carbs

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My wife is working from home.  She’s a garbage collector.

I also work from home and cook at home.  During these strange Corona times, let’s just say we’ve been overloading on carbs.  So, instead of staying six feet from away from a stranger, we’ve made a decision to stay six feet away from carbs.  She tried to kiss me this morning, and I ran away.  She yelled at me and called me a carb.

The Daily Corona: Dodger Blues

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While going to the store today, I walked across a person wearing a Los Angeles Dodger cap.  It wasn’t a mask.  It was a baseball hat.  Out of the blue, I said, “Go Dodgers!”

She said, “I wish….will baseball season ever start?”

It was a quick six foot walk by, but I wanted to stop her and tell her something about baseball.  It hasn’t began, but it will never end.

Broken Furniture

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“Broken Furniture”  sounds like a song I may or may not have heard as an infant.  I did, however, grow up with a band of sisters and brothers whose only instruments were their fists and shouts.  According to our friend, Vic, we lived in a madhouse. This is nonfictional.

Our friend, Vic, tells me stories about this madhouse when I was too young to remember the stories.  Actually, I wasn’t even born before Vic began studying our family values.  Those values included breaking furniture, bloodying noses and saying “Grace” before dinner.  This was followed by more broken furniture, backyard wrestling and sleeping on the lawn if they didn’t settle down.

Vic once asked my father a logical question , wondering if we were poor, “Can’t you afford new furniture?”

Our father responded with equal logic.  “We’ll buy new furniture when they are all gone.  It would be a ridiculous waste of money if we paid for it now.”

Vic couldn’t help but understand and laugh.

 

 

Groundhogs

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My sister, Anne, said something very discerning to me yesterday.  I didn’t want to believe it, but she was correct.  Currently, every day is groundhog day.  I’m referring to the movie with an unknown actor, Bill Murray.  I remember the actor.  I don’t remember the groundhog’s name.  His or her name may be Corona.  I don’t know.

We wake up every day, thankfully, feeding the dogs and the cats, try to workout if you have the time, and talk to Amazon Alexa,..that’s her full name.

I have a friend who not only works for Amazon, she actually knows Alexa.  (she’s actually pretty sweet) We ask her about the weather, and then curse the jigsaw puzzle we can’t finish, and Alexa curses when she can’t help as well.  She’s now staying with us.  Alexa showed up, in person, not to say hello, how are you today?  She wanted to look at the puzzle. She’s still working on the puzzle.  “Alexa, when are you leaving?”

 

The Daily Corona: Cell Block Three

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I wish to provide clarification for my friend, Mark, living in what he calls Cell Block Number Three.  That’s the third floor where he lives in Los Angeles.  He’s in lock down.  I guess six feet away sometimes feels worse than being six feet under.

Regarding the Virus,  I’ve written with regard to Mark’s attitude.  I think he’s correct. Where do we stand?  Where do we sit?  Where do we eat?  I feel the same, but don’t always have the guts to say it.

He does take it seriously, and he’s been nothing but thankful to his son, Trevor, for providing help which is not easy in L.A..  What is easy right now?  Nothing.  Even this jigsaw puzzle is driving us mad.