Tag Archives: Facebook

The Mystery of the Illegible Grocery List

My part of the world has always taken the term “April showers” very seriously. Today was no exception. There was severe lightning, there was hail, there was flooding and there was excessive, driving, sideways rain … all wrapped up in a tornado warning. And I … I was at the grocery store in the midst of all of it. With a basket FULL of assorted, paper-packaged, refrigerator-requiring shit.

I’m such a dumb ass.

Loading AND unloading my car full of groceries has never been a wetter, more harrowing and I’m-guessing-hilarious-to-watch experience in my life. I was truly afraid I was going to struck by lightning today. Thank goodness for people. And humor. And … you know what? Let me back up a little bit.

When I first started grocery shopping, everything was business as usual. It was a little dark outside, but I knew I could get it done quickly. I navigated the aisles like an Olympic skier trying to finish off my handwritten list and get through the check out line before the skies opened.

All was going according to plan until I came to the very last item on my list. I stared at it intently for a few minutes and finally just laughed out loud (maniacally, of course) at the mystery I’d created for myself. Then naturally, like any responsible adult caught in a tornado warning, I turned to Facebook and wrote this post.

In the interest of time and my own personal safety, I decided to dismiss it for the time being and ran to the check out line so I could get home as soon as possible. Imagine my surprise when, after loading bag after bag into my car in the pouring rain and then UNloading it all again at my house, I saw all the responses I’d gotten to that post. There I stood in my kitchen surrounded by saturated, distintegrating cardboard packaging. I was so wet that my underwear and bra were actually dripping.  And all I could do was laugh.

Take a look.

You people are hilarious!!!

I should add that … for the record … my disgraceful, physician-writing-a-prescription-style handwriting is reserved only for personal things like grocery lists. My real penmanship is totally legible and has even been complimented on occasion.

Oh, and a few of you actually guessed right, by the way. The mystery grocery item on my list was in fact ….

For the record, I never figured it out at the store. But they were on sale (two for one!), so I guess fate … or the Winn-Dixie gods … intervened today.

You guys are the best. The comments are still coming in. Thanks for the laughs!


KIDS TODAY ARE SOFT … and here are some of the reasons why

Remember the whole “When I was a kid, I had to walk 10 miles … at a 90 degree angle … in acid snow … through packs of rabid wolves … on genetically-altered, mutant ant beds” reprimand we all got as kids? Every generation gets the speech from their parents. And every generation swears they’ll never repeat it to their kids.

But we’re all a bunch of liars.

Case in point … I made the following observations recently while chauffeuring my kids to one of their many exciting adventures over the summer break.

  • Exhibit A … We were listening to ‘Tween Radio” on Pandora.

When I was a kid, we didn’t have radio stations geared specifically to MY age group.

  • Exhibit B … When a song came on that didn’t meet their collective satisfaction, they both yelled out “Skip!”

When I was a kid, we couldn’t just fast forward through radio airplay. You either suffered through the crap song OR you changed the station … to one of the three other decent FM choices available on your mom’s dashboard.

  • Exhibit C … When I inevitably pressed ‘Skip’ (because I am a lazy, Gen-X parent and it was easier than listening to the incessant squawking), Pandora ruthlessly went to the commercial break that airs after every five or six songs. Both kids let out an exasperated sigh. And the commercial went on for an “excruciating” fifteen seconds. It was absolute torture.

When I was a kid, the ads droned on for five minutes … which was approximately the same length of time as the segment of actual music that preceded each break. And WE passed the time by mimicking the voices and sound effects we heard. Problem solved.

So, at the risk of sounding like an 85-year-old, I’m just going to say it.


(and here are some of the reasons why)

Dear Son & Daughter,

(Wait here while I put in my teeth.)

In MY day …

When you liked somebody and wanted to publicize it … you didn’t use Facebook or Instagram. You used the school bathroom wall or you sent in a dedication to your local radio station when you hoped he or she would be listening. And, of course, they always were … because there was NOTHING ELSE TO DO!

When you ordered pizza … it was Domino’s. Your topping choices were cheese, pepperoni or sausage. And if they took longer than 30 minutes to slap it together and cause traffic accidents rushing it to your house, it was free!

When you wanted to make popcorn … you got out a big pot, popcorn kernels and oil OR, if you were lucky, your Jiffy Pop popcorn kit. Then, you burned yourself making it on the stove.

When you wanted to see a movie … you had to wait for the one summer kids’ movie to be released. When it finally came out, you saw it in the flat-floored theater holding the tiny paper sleeve of popcorn and the small Coke between your knees because there were NO CUP HOLDERS! And, with no PG-13 rating in existence, there was a good chance you’d get to hear the mother of all curse words in otherwise benign PG-rated films like Big.

When you wanted to buy that movie after it left the theaters … you waited a year for it to be released on VHS or Betamax, paid $80 for it and prayed the tape didn’t snap every time you had to rewind it in the machine. And the rewinding process could often take up to 5 minutes.

When that $80 video tape malfunctioned … you carefully used a pencil to rewind the entire spool of tape so you could salvage your new copy of Xanadu.

When you wanted to listen to music on the go … you used a walkman. It was as big as a VHS tape so it was tricky to manage while riding a bike. Unless you had a basket on your handlebars. That basket was also handy for storing extra cassette tapes (each holding up to 90 minutes of music!) so you could stop on the side of the road and change out your tunes when the mood struck.

When you used your walkman … you listened to the music through headphones, not earphones. Big, goofy, sometimes neon-colored headphones. There was no hiding these “stylish” monstrosities.

When you liked a song and wanted to own it … you could either wait for your mom to bring you to the mall so you could spend your allowance to buy the record or cassette tape OR you could chain yourself to your tape deck and wait for the song to come on so you could tape it, usually with the stupid deejay talking over the front and back ends of it.

When you wanted frozen yogurt … you put Yoplait in the freezer, as there was no such thing as frozen yogurt.

When you had a prize in a cereal box … it was in the cereal, not encased in a protective plastic condom between the cereal and the cardboard. Made-in-China craftsmanship, be damned. They mixed it right in with our food. And there was no squabbling over who got to keep it. If it fell into your bowl when the cereal was being poured, it was yours. (Yes, we started eating out of mixing bowls to work the system.)

When you had to sell candy or something for school … you had to put that crap in a wagon and walk the neighborhood by yourself unloading it door to door. And no one worried that you would be kidnapped.

When you wanted to watch TV … you had to choose between 5 channels and hope the antenna brought in good reception that day. Everyone in the house had to agree on the show. There was no split screen. And if your parents wanted the TV for themselves then you had to go use the old black-and-white, 12-inch you inherited from your great uncle that was plugged in the room over the garage.

When you wanted to play video games … you stuffed all your quarters into an old sock and begged your parents to take you to the arcade. If you were lucky, they liked the games, too. My dad almost always had the high score on Pac-Man and my mom on Galaga. My talent? Frogger and Centipede.

When you realized you wanted to be able to play video games at home … you begged your parents to buy an Atari, Coleco or Intellivision “gaming console.” You were usually stuck playing them on the old, 12-inch-black-and-white television you inherited from your great uncle (see above) so you weren’t always occupying the “good TV.”

When you wanted to communicate via wireless technology … you used a walkie-talkie or, if your family splurged a little, a cordless telephone. And all of these items didn’t work worth a crap. You were better off with two cans and a string.

When you had a question and you needed answers … you had several options: (1) ask your parents, (2) ask your friends, or (3) get your mom to drive you in the station wagon to the library, look up the Dewey Decimal number in the card catalog, find the stupid book and then sift through it ’til you found what you were looking for. And all of that usually came at the expense of a Saturday.

When you got a McDonald’s Happy Meal (because NO other restaurants made kids’ meals) … you got a slider-sized burger, a handful of fries, a packet of cookies (truly the best part), a thimble of Coke and a toy. They did not ask what gender the toy was for when you bought it. And you couldn’t swap it out for anything else.

When you wanted a diet soda (though I don’t know WHY you would) … you got nasty, skunky, turpentine-tasting Tab. One calorie of pure evil in a can. Seriously, that should’ve been their ad campaign.

When you wore shoes (IF you wore them) … you had two choices: sneakers and flip-flops. And you wore them until they fell apart. Even in the pool.

Alright, fine. It’s not like I grew up in the middle of the Bubonic Plague or anything but I still contend that today’s generation is way softer than mine. I had fun lampooning my kids and myself coming up with these little gems and could probably think of a dozen more if I applied myself. (See lazy self-reference above.)

What do YOU think? What did I miss?

* * * * * * * * * *



Three ways to keep up with ODNT … though I might fall off the radar for a few days this week

There are three ways to keep up with all things ODNT and they are all located in the far right column of this page.

(1) Find the box that says ‘OldDogNewTits on Facebook’ and click ‘Like.’  I manually update this page for new posts and there are sometimes comments and other things that get posted here that can’t be found elsewhere.

(2) Right below that is the Twitter box featuring recent tweets.  This forum can get colorful.  If you want in, click ‘Follow.’

(3) Scroll down more to find a box marked ‘Subscribe by Email!’to (duh!) subscribe to the blog via email and get automatic email notifications of all new posts.

And yes, of course, you can do all three. Those people are often served pie.

Also, I just love feedback.  Please feel free to comment, positively or negatively, on anything you read here. I’d love to open the door to a few more guests at the party.  Then, we can finally start using the fancy guest towels and I can bring out the good cheese.

Thanks to everyone for coming out to play.


You may not know it but ODNT has some friends in high places

I want to express my sincerest thanks to an old friend who did a very special thing for me tonight. If you have a minute, please check out King Cake Baby on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/kingcakebaby?ref=ts. He’s Lilliputian in size but not in fame and, obviously, heart.

Here’s his special message he sent out to me today. Made me feel like a rock star.


Thanks, KCB. I’ll be fine and eating king cake with you popping out of it naked again in no time. Only in New Orleans …