the man who married my mothersent me this joke.it bears sharing.

A man walks into the street and manages to get a taxi just going by. He gets into the taxi, and the cabbie says, "Perfect timing. You're just like Frank."

Passenger: "Who?"

Cabbie: "Frank Feldman. There's a guy who did everything right. Like my coming along when you needed a cab. It would have happened like that to Frank every single time."

Passenger: "There are always a few clouds over everybody."

Cabbie: "Not Frank. He was a terrific athlete. He could have gone on the pro Tour in tennis. He could golf with the pros. He sang like an opera baritone and danced like a Broadway star and you should have heard him play the piano."

Passenger: "Sounds like he was something, huh?"

Cabbie: "He had a memory like a computer. Could remember everybody's birthday. He knew all about wine, which foods to order and which fork to eat them with. He could fix anything. Not like me. I change a fuse, and the whole neighborhood blacks out."

Passenger: "Wow, some guy eh"?

Cabbie: "He always knew the quickest way to go in traffic and avoid traffic jams, not like me, I always seem to get into them."

Passenger: "Mmm, not many like that around."

Cabbie: "And he knew how to treat a woman and make her feel good and never answer her back even if she was in the wrong; and his clothing was always immaculate, shoes highly polished too."

Passenger: "An amazing fellow. How did you meet him?"

Cabbie: "Well, I never actually met Frank."

Passenger: "Then how do you know so much about him?"

Cabbie: "I married his widow"

blonde joke

i read the greatest blonde joke today. it had me rolling on the floor.

happy chinese new year

woof

happy birthday to geekshappy birthday to geekshappy birthday boredstiffgeekshappy birthday to geeks

been here a year, and what a year it's been

i love the smell of impeachment in the morning

the whole business almost makes me nostalgic for the clinton impeachment, which now seems as quaint as the geneva convention: a relic of a happier, more innocent time in american history, a time when we fretted about secret tape recordings made by linda tripp instead of secret recordings made by the nsa.

rosa brooks,
latimes.com commentary

i love a parade

kids. gotta love 'em.

anna (the five year old) has been talking about nothing for the last two days except getting up today to see the rose parade. it was the last thing on her lips last night. "please wake me up to see the rose parade, daddy."

well, this morning, we woke her up. her mom did, anyway--i was at work. carrie said to a sleepyheaded anna, "time to get up. the parade is starting."

anna rushed out of bed, into the bathroom, did her thing, walked out of the bathroom, laid down on the hardwood floor in the hallway outside the bathroom door. . .

and fell asleep.

five minutes later, carrie woke anna again, and asked her if she wanted to see the parade.

anna asked, "on tv?"

"yes," said carrie.

so off tootled anna to the couch to watch the parade.

i don't know whether anna remained awake through the parade. i guess i'll learn when i get home.