The Ghost of Larry Hagman

Since the new roof has been successful in keeping out the riff raff, we are thinking of taking on a new renovation project downstairs.

Part of the project would include the downstairs bathroom and this:

What is that, you ask?

Ummmm…. That’s our awesome 1970s wet bar.

I didn’t know you had a wet bar??

That’s because its been conveniently built INTO a closet - like it’s ashamed. 

Well, it should be - its hideous. 

When discussing the possibility of bringing this bar “out of the closet” and giving it a proper makeover, I became so excited that I promised to display our autographed picture of Larry Hagman proudly in the new bar if this project actually became a reality.

Wait – you have an autographed picture of Larry Hagman? 

Why on Earth….

Let me stop you there.

We all have a guilty TV pleasure.  Some of us like to watch American Idol, the Real Housewives of Wherever, or maybe some of us are still closet Day’s of Our Lives fans.  I had quite a run with Buffy the Vampire Slayer, myself, but prefer not to discuss the year I spent with Felicity DVDs and fudgesicles. 

But my husband is different.  He is a Dallas SUPER FAN.

And no, I’m not talking about the city in Texas.

Or a sports team.

I am talking about the TV miniseries that ran from 1978-1991 about the brooding, bickering and impossibly wealthy Ewings. 

He has seen every episode.  More than once.  

He knows who shot JR.

There was a time in his life where a legitimate career goal was to have an office large enough to hold a minibar and fancy decanter.

A few years ago, a good friend of mine moved to California and became an acquaintance of Larry Hagman.  That is when we received this amazing gift:

THE autographed picture of Larry Hagman that I promised to prominently display - It is awesome, certainly a conversation piece.

I think Larry Hagman was listening to my promise.  I think he wants to come off the bookshelf and be properly placed in a jazzy minibar.  And this is why….

Tonight I received a phone call from Dallas – from my husband.  He had flown in for a business trip only to discover his hotel was overbooked, so they reserved him a spot at another hotel nearby.

Wait for it…

Wait for it…

The Southfork Hotel. 

When he checked in, there was a flat screen behind the front desk that continuously plays reruns of Dallas. 

Coincidence….OR, the ghost of Larry Hagman?

Hard to say, but if we remodel the minibar, we are most certainly having a Dallas party just in case it IS the ghost of Larry Hagman, because if there is one thing I learned during the 1980s, it was don’t cross JR Ewing….Oh, and nobody puts Baby in a corner.  Definitely don’t do that either.  Or feed Gremlins after dark.  Or is it get them wet?  Shoot.  I can never get that one right.  I’ll just keep my gremlin dry and unfed – just like my plants. 

I can follow directions - see, a blog!

So, maybe you’ve noticed.  I started a blog. 

WHAT!

Why would you do that?

Because this book told me to. 

And I love doing things that people tell me to do.

Like that time my Dad told me NOT to ride my bike around in the garage and I most certainly followed his wise advice so as NOT to hit his very expensive car with my bright blue Schwinn.

Or that time my cousin, Sarah, recommended I NOT ride her new Strawberry Shortcake bicycle over a large curb.  

Sorry, Sarah.  I still feel bad about that.  But seriously?  How finely could that bicycle have been crafted if it completely imploded upon itself?  Maybe I did you a favor by saving you the shame of riding such a clearly sub-quality product.  

Maybe.

Or that time my good friend, Shana, advised that I stop playing Jezzball and study for my Physics final so that I could get a grade better than a D and go to medical school.

As you know, I am NOT a doctor.

But I AM awesome at jezzball.

Or that time EVERYONE told me I should NOT get a dog….

Well.

Here is my stupid dog.

So, I maybe directions are not my strength.

But in all fairness, most of the people I spend my time with have a similar struggle.

Like these two characters:

I told them to pick up their clothes.

Or this guy:

I told him not to eat that doll. 

Or this one. 

But, back to my point.  I am older now, and find value in other people's advice.  So I am writing this blog, which would be going significantly faster if my dog would stop hunting dolls.  

Stupid dog.

So please, read my blog, or ask your dog to read my blog.  Or, even better, if you have a fancy publishing friend, ask them!  I'm not above shamelessly marketing my idea.  Well, I do have limits.  I will not twerk. 

Or wear clothes made of meat.  

Maybe Pringles, but that is for a different day.

But Daddy Can Juggle

So, Jane is “star student” this week and as start student, she is able to bring someone in for show and tell.  Every year they choose Daddy.  Every year.  Did I say every year? 

How come you guys always choose Daddy?

Blank stares

Awkward silence

Because it says you are supposed to come in and talk about your job.  You don’t have a job.

Right.

As I wash their dishes, organize their homework for the next day, and contemplate folding all their clothes, I continue to argue my case.

But you never want Daddy to talk about his job.

Daddy’s job is boring.  I want him to juggle.

Why don’t you want Mommy to come and talk about her hobbies?

Blank stares again.

Mommy plays tennis?

Okay, so they have actually seen me play tennis, and are probably fairly unimpressed by my awesome skills on the court.

Mommy knits hats?  This stuff is legitimate quality – with REAL button eyes sewn on….AND ear flaps – the whole nine yards.   PROFESSIONAL.

Okay, so maybe yarn and wood sticks aren’t terribly exciting.

Mommy can make delicious pies FROM SCRATCH?  Apple pies, meat pies, berry cherry pies, pumpkin pies, even those ridiculous French silk pies that Daddy likes that really aren’t pie, but pudding in a crust.

Again, awkward silence.

But Daddy can juggle.

Don’t you guys feel bad that you never pick Mommy?

Don’t worry Mom, we’ll pick you next year.  Oh, wait, they don’t do star student anymore after second grade...

Awkward glances around the table.

Seriously.  Fine.  Daddy can juggle .