Circa 1958

My Regular, Annual, Semi-Official Ghost Written Disclaimer

The Author as a Young Person

My name is from the 1950’s.  My age spots are from the wear-no-sunscreen ‘60s. My stretch marks are from the baby making ‘80s and my attitude is the culmination of fifty-nine years of listening to the big words coming out of the mouths of politicians, professors, popcorn vendors, and pompous pontificators that said one thing, did another and did not or do not deserve a second chance. Lovely rhetoric is lovely, but I’m more into stone, cold results.

Color me skeptical.

I was blogging before it was called blogging. It was called chatting over the back fence. I’ve been chatting over the back fence, once a week, for over thirteen years.

Here’s stuff that I’ve figured out—also my philosophy:

Sorting the silverware into individual slots for the convenience of fork users is weird. Throw it all in a drawer and let the moochers sort it out for themselves.

Folding sheets into tiny, tidy squares is a lot of effort for not much. Lump the silly things up and shove them in a laundry basket.

All the knobs on your kitchen cabinets DO NOT HAVE TO MATCH! I know. I know; radical, revolutionary talk fated to drive my son-in-law mad.

“They” are the worst possible source of information. “They” are probably the idiots that came up with the matching kitchen cabinet knob rule.

Chocolate covered raisins are the smartest food on earth.

Babylon is alive and well and trying to sell you something on Amazon—matching kitchen cabinet knobs.

Anarchy is like a two-year-old on a binky binge with a diaper full of pucky. Anarchy is for the birds. No. Even birds have more self-discipline than those self-proclaimed anarchists, crying for their binkies and flinging their own poo.

Being a selfish twit (i.e. wicked) makes you insecure and insecurity makes you fearful and being fearful makes you mean and mean people are selfish twits. Knock it off (i.e. repent).

The best cure for insult or reproach is to be able to 1) laugh at yourself 2) laugh at the people who make fun of your mismatched kitchen knobs and libertarian values 3) recognize “them” for the “they” that “they” be and 4) keep your knives sharp and your wit sharper.


Note:  The management is not responsible for the opinions expressed in this blog by Linda L. Zern with her 1950’s name and her stretch marks because the management is probably obsessing over getting the sheets folded into squares the size of postage stamps. Silly management.

Lin(duh) Zern (circa 1958)