Ooohh Oogoo!

For years I was a smoker and wouldn’t even consider leaving the house without my little 5 inch pack of comfort. I quit years ago and in addition to kicking the nicotine habit, I needed to replace my crutch with another little 5 inch square of comfort….a cell phone was my drug of choice. Considering there is hardly a human being alive that doesn’t have a cell phone that might not seem like such a big deal, but I have tried to quit cold turkey….and the fact that it is harder to leave my phone home than it is to beat an addiction is a little upsetting to say the least.

Consider this: We have always found ways to communicate with each other. It started long ago when cavemen chiseled messages to each other in the cave walls, (a precursor to graffiti) alerting each other of danger, location of food sources and how to get Oogoo the cave slut to lose the loincloth. Since rock etching was time consuming, just plain nasty on the hands and Vaseline hadn’t been invented yet, a new form of communication had to be invented…..and as time marched on it was.

Smoke signals. Chiefs and squaws alike first had to learn how to make fire. After stealing Sacagawea’s blanket to extinguish the dinner fire, they fortuitously discovered that it made puffs of smoke rise high into the air where neighboring tribes could see. Puff puff puff…beware of white man selling beads. Puff puff puff….juicy buffalo nearing the watering hole. Puff puff puff….Oogoo the Indian slut likes warm Wigwams. Same story different medium! The tribesman could hardly breathe after one ‘conversation’ at the campfire so a new form of communication had to be invented….and as time marched on it was.

The telegraph….a series of dots and dashes that translated into words. The problem with the telegraph was that there were just too many wires and most people didn’t have one….therefore dot dot dot, dash dash dash and no one was listening. When Marconi finally invented the wireless telegraph it made communicating much easier. Dot dot dot….the ship is sinking. Dash dash dash….looks like we’re having shark for dinner! Dot dash dot….check out the humongous dots on Oogoo the seafaring slut. With so many dot and dash combinations to memorize it was just a matter of time before a new form of communication was invented…and as time marched on it was.

Sign Language. A series of hand gestures that convey a message without words. (Needless to say some ‘gestures’ are universal and used more often than others) Finger-hand-hand….wash hands before leaving rest room… Hand-finger-hand…..Betty Sue is serving finger sandwiches….Finger-finger-finger….Oogoo the deaf slut likes it LOUD! With all that gesturing, long conversations were exhausting so a new form of communication had to be invented….and as time marched on it was.

Telephones. First a crank, then a rotary, then a push button model that had glow in numbers. They came in several colors including beige, white and black. Cords, longer cords and then finally for us people that couldn’t possibly stand that close to the phone base for the length of a conversation, the cordless. Dial dial dial….Global warming is real. Dial dial dial….Key Food has a sale on canned goods. Dial dial dial….Oogoo the phone sex slut overcharges at $2.99 a minute.

And then finally they invented the cell phone. A variety of shapes and sizes, flip, no flip, touch screen, GPS, internet, wi-fi, sci-fi, hi-fi. Whatever one you have, it has become part of you. An extension of your hand….of your ear. Don’t try to deny it. Try leaving home without it. Go ahead, leave it on the kitchen counter, in the car…the ‘other’ coat pocket……Aside from feeling like you’ve abandoned your best friend…you’ll never know when you’ll need to dial 911, or directions to the great new Italian restaurant…or most importantly what Oogoo the bluetooth slut is doing on Saturday night.

#$%&!

I gave up cursing for Lent. I don’t do it often, but when I let loose I am worse than a drunken sailor. (I don’t actually know any sailors but I have met a few drunks in my day) It was that or gum which I didn’t feel was very sacrificial….or playing Lotto like my co-worker did, or Facebook like my neice. (ok, so that ain’t happenin’) Thought about abstaining from chocolate but I already gave that up when my son got engaged and set the wedding date a mere year away. (at a pound a week I could be 52 pounds lighter….ok so maybe I can convince him to wait 6 more months…maybe 9.…a year tops!) I considered giving up texting which I think would actually be therapeutic but again, not something God is sitting up there saying…’Wow save her a spot, she put away her QWERTY keyboard for a whole 40 days’…..

I started off good. I didn’t curse or even think of cursing as the ashes were put on my forehead. I didn’t curse or even think of cursing as my dog decided it would be a good time to chew the insoles out of my sneakers while I was getting ashed. I didn’t curse or even think of cursing the next night when I walked 2 blocks in the pouring rain to see La Cage on Broadway (because my husband finds it necessary to street park, facing downtown or west…I don’t ask, I just drive and park) I didn’t curse or even think of cursing (ok that’s a lie right there, I didn’t but sure as hell wanted to) when the usher took us to our seats only to find out they added little bistro tables in front of us making our front row orchestra seats….2nd row I-cant-see-a-damn-thing-over-the-peoples-head seats.  I said nothing as one by one men came out dressed like woman and had better legs than me.  I smiled and clapped curse free as the woman in front of me tilted her head back and forth like some bobble-headed car ornament and as I did the same to see the stage,  I am sure the guys behind me were cursing at me. And speaking of the guys behind me, as they held hands and nuzzled, they laughed hysterically and way too loudly as the men/women came out with their tucked up ‘jewels’ and yet not one curse came to my lips.

Today however brought a new series of circumstances I will ill-prepared for.  I was driving on a service road and needed to merge into traffic.  No one was letting me in. I guess all the rain had soggied their brain and now with the sun shining they were determined not to let another living sole in front of them, even if there was a red light up ahead.  I put my blinker on. I nudged my bumper into the lane, and as cars honked frantically to let me know they were NOT going to let me in THEIR lane I felt an ever so slight curse bubbling up to my lips. I swallowed hard and continued to merge.  I made it in front of a man who had decided that if he honked at me long enough I would simply pull out of his lane and let him get back in front of me.  What the *&$!?   When I got to the corner he zipped around me and open window to open window he let me have it.   Both barrels. Names I haven’t been called in…well, ever! And here it was, the beginning of the end. My Lenten promise not only broken but destroyed. I started calling him names that would have had the gay guys from last night blushing.  That the dancing men/women on stage would have giggled at.   But Mr. My Lane wasn’t laughing. I added adjectives to every curse and verbs to every adjective.  I told him what to do with what body parts and with who. (or is it whom?) And then just when I thought I couldn’t have sunk any lower, I wished him dead. During lent……I am going to hell.

I recovered from that debacle vowing to regroup and remain curse free for the remainder of the Lenten season.  38 more days, not counting Sundays.  I could do it!  I went to Key Food. The lot was empty.  I parked, went inside for less than 15 minutes and came out to find a car parked three inches from my driver’s door.  The lot was still empty.  30 spots and this one needed to park on top of me. (was this I test I thought to myself?)  I kept my cool, looked at the make and model of the car and went to ask the manager to request the owner move the car. I went back out to wait for the owner.  I had to pee.  A woman came out talking on her cell phone, her keys and groceries in hand and walked over to her car.  Before she got in I said, ‘you really didn’t need to park so close to me, look at all these spots….I couldn’t get in my car’........What I wanted to say was “you are so damn lucky that I didn’t just slam my door up against yours and squeeze my fat ass in-between leaving a nice fresh dent on your pretty little Nissan.”  I refrained…God is watching I thought….it’s a test…it’s a test! Without blinking an eye she turned to me and accused me of taking up two spots, which I clearly was not…especially since there were 28 other spots for her to pick from.  “Are you kidding me?”  I said. (I know, I know… lousy come back, but when your hands are tied by this whole Lenten thing you are limited!) She got in her car and backed out, still talking on her cell phone, almost hitting my car and me….and then smiled!  That was it…I failed the test. Hell, even God would have to understand this one.  I let loose with a string of curses I didn’t even know I knew. I started off slow, calling her a jerk, an ass, a whore. Standing alone in the parking lot, I moved onto more descriptive words and just as I was whipped into a frenzy that even I was amazed at…..it started to rain. God’s way of marking my test paper…F!

I am giving up gum for Lent. God will understand.