The Eyes Have It!

Flirtatious: "All the better to see you my dear!"

Real Mood: In Sight Full

Prediction: John Roberts will be confirmed as Chief Justice of the Supreme Court and will get to work right away organizing touch football games for the Hight Court's lunch breaks.

 

I'm uneasy about confirming John Roberts to be Chief Justice of the United States. I'll join the rest of you in admiring his presence, his ability to respond with calm reflection to tough questions.  I'm not concerned even with his position on Rowe Versus Wade one way or the other.  He seems like the kind of guy who really will do his homework, study arguments and detail, and make decisions based on reason. He seems ready, as most of these justices do, to put politics behind him.

So what's my problem? Why am I uneasy, even fearful to some degree?  IT'S HIS EYES.

At first I thought maybe there was just something out of "whack" on the TV set. But then I saw his picture in the Newspaper. Same thing!

They are not natural in color or design.  When I look into them it's like being drawn into a labyrinth.  I'm afraid that if he wants, he'll be able to hypnotise the rest of the court.  Maybe even the other two branches of government!

I'm sharing my eye analysis with Peggy and it finally dawns on me.

"Peggy, he's a robot!"

"Don't be silly," she scolds. "Those arn't the eyes of a Robot. He's clearly an ALIEN."

"Whoa!, thanks! I was worried there for a minute."

NEW SUBJECT:

I've moved a lot in my life. I think that might, just might, explain why I take note of moving vans when I see them on the highway. So I'm going to name a name. I'm moving along at something close to 65 miles per hour in a center lane.  On my right is an odd shaped moving van hoping to merge into my lane.  I know this because the truck's turn signal is on. It's a member of the "Graebel Van lines" fleet. But there is something peculiar about this particular unit.

It is not likely a cross country van.  I say this because it seems to be only about  a third of the normal length of those you usually see. Another clear difference is that this trailer has a very narrow wheelbase.  This would be okay, but there is no  compensatory adjustment of the  trailer sitting on those wheels. The trailer is both as wide and as tall as a normal unit.

Maybe this will aid you're trying to picture what I'm seeing. It's akin to "Wimpy's" wagon in the "Popeye" cartoon. Call it considerably top heavy.

So what?

"Excuse me Paul Harvey, but would it be okay if just this once I wrote and now the rest of the story?"

"No? Okay."

With eyes to match my age I'm not given to reading signs and bumper stickers on other vehicles unless they are pretty much gigantic. Well, this time it applies. I see this wonderful slogan written on back of the trailer that says, and I quote, "Graebel Van Lines, Helping Move Your Family Forward."

Cute little play on words, don't you think?  Problem is as I'm absorbing this cuteness the truck is making the merge  in earnest.  He is making the merge on a curve. He is making a merge on a curve at 65 miles per hour. He is making the merge on a curve at 65 miles per hour with a 25 mile per hour cross wind. I'm pretty sure I'm seeing at least one wheel come off the ground.

So, I'm going back to the gigantic slogan, "Helping Move Your Family Forward."

Uh, Uh! You're moving it SIDE to SIDE. Even if you don't tip over, you are dumping my Cuisinart on top of my Baby Grand. You are shattering my Great, Great Grandmother's etched mirror from Norway. You are breaking the dinnerware Peggy only brings out on Thanksgiving.

"Come on Graebel. Get a Truck!"

So I'm a "breast" guy. Other's are "thigh" or "leg" people. Got you excited? Well I'm talking chicken here.  And this is a case of the punch line wagging the clucker.

I've been a little puzzled of late buying chicken breasts. Sometimes one is available in a size to fit in the palm of your hand. And some you can pull from a package and unfold to have it run the length of your forearm.  I don't remember that kind of range growing up. Triple A Cup to G Cup? Here's where I steal the punchline from a student from an entirely different context. "Are these chickens getting breast implants?" Just struck me funny and I felt compelled to share it.

SEE you later.