Monday Morning Madness with Ed!

I'm happy to announce that "Ed Williams" is back with us again this week! I had to skip Monday Morning Madness with Ed last week because I was sick and for that I apologize to you (My Readers) and to Ed. I know you can't wait for him to get started, so I'll stop talking now and give him the floor! Ed? Are you Ready?

Dull Crap Becomes Important Crap When You Get Older!

God, I’m almost embarrassed to write this article, as I’m really gonna be telling on myself in a major way…..

I have to do it, though. It’s too late for me to be rescued from my own fate, but perhaps it will help someone out there avoid the same in years to come. Hey, it might even be used to aid in the cause of anti-aging research, at least I hope it will.

Bottom line, the reason for today’s article is both simple yet profound. It’s also undeniable. So, without further ado, our reason for being here today is:

I’m finding, as I get older, that I want to talk about drivel, stuff that in years past I’d never have mentioned to anyone. I’d not have found it important or interesting enough.

Bear with me, it’ll make more sense in a few, unfortunately. This past Saturday, I needed to get the oil changed in my truck. Around 2 pm or so, I ran it over to the garage that does such things for me. And since Ole Black (my ’98 Toyota Tacoma that I love more than God) was a bit on the dirty side, I whipped her into a car wash and cleaned her up a bit. Then, we both went home.

As soon as I arrived and walked in the front door, my son Will asked where I’d been? I then proceeded to launch into a long, impassioned explanation of how I’d just taken my truck in for an oil change. That wasn’t enough, though. Then I launched into yet another impassioned recounting of how I took Ole Black for a good washing afterwards. And as I was telling Will all this stuff, the thought hit me, “Just how boring is this? And why do I give a damn about giving him such a long-assed explanation of either item?”

Right at that point it didn’t bother me too much, but about an hour or so later my son-in-law Dave walked up. He mentioned that he’d noticed I’d been gone earlier, and wondered why? I then launched into yet another impassioned speech about how I’d taken Ole Black in for an oil-change and a car wash. And as I heard myself get yet again into all this detail about two such mundane events, the reality of what I was actually doing hit me, and my mind screamed out,

“We’re getting old, dammit! Oil changes are now a big deal So are car washes! Look at us, we’re getting mossy and mentally skanked!”

The bad thing about it all was, my mind was telling me the truth. I am getting old, and that’s a sure tell tale sign of it, getting long-winded about trivial crap that even a tse-tse fly couldn’t care less about. And if I’m already caring about car washes and oil changes, then the following things are probably on the horizon:

• Talking to my neighbors about their favorite garden fertilizers and why.

• Discussing out loud stuff like dry skin or scalp flaking problems and what the best means of addressing them are.

• Discussing what types of vitamins best promote good health.

• Getting into earnest discussions with my male friends about toupees vs. the natural (bald as a damn eagle) look.

• Arguing that music was only music back when it was on vinyl, not on these damn MP3 computer files that are so prevalent today.

• Bemoaning the loss of pay phones and empathizing with the postal service’s current problems.

• Whispering under my breath to my male neighbors about how the lady down the street does yard work in far too skimpy outfits.

If I start getting verbally long-winded on any of those things, especially that last item, then I’ll know I’m getting older than the pyramids and that I might as well start hiking my pants up under my armpits. I’ll truly know that old age has set in, and that park benches and clogging in those awful square dancing outfits are in my future. A future even more dismal than being given the complete works of Perry Como in MP3 format, and that should make any adult with a reasonable set of eardrums moan the blues.

Time to wrap this up, my friends. I know this week’s article was pretty much a downer, but y’all will be much happier with next week’s. In next week’s epistle we’ll talk about why prunes are an incredibly wonderful food, why they’re misunderstood, why our elected officials ought to aggressively promote them to their constituents, why Post should start making “Prune Toasties,” why……


"ChristmaSin'", his new Christmas novel, comes out in Nov. of '09!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_wQu3_9vvig you tube for a ChristmaSin

Author Site: www.ed-williams.com
Publisher: www.champagnebooks.com
Follow Ed on Twitter: www.twitter.com/ELW3


KISSES ~ x0xx

Monday Morning Madness With Ed Williams!

I am very pleased to announce of the addition of a very special new feature here at my blog. It's called "Monday Morning Madness With Ed", and features my good friend Ed Williams, a Southern Outlaw Author and humorist.

By virtue of an agreement we negotiated, Ed will fill the next six months worth of Monday mornings with his humor. I think you'll like him!

Yes, you can thank me later (after you're done laughing) ... I'm totally serious! Ed's a Sweet Guy with a Big Heart! If you would like Ed to spot on your blog, Please hit the "Contact Me" button and I'll let you know how!

Without further Ado, Mr. Ed Williams...

“Le Poem De La Sweat"

I made a bad mistake a couple of weeks ago and got into a discussion about poetry with my good friend, columnist Amy Eason. Amy likes poems, and was telling me all kinds of stuff about them in an effort to convince me that I should like them as well. She was fighting an uphill battle because I typically don’t like poetry at all, in fact, the only thing I can imagine that’s worse than poems would be having Perry Como sing a few of them to me. Nonetheless, she made me promise that I would try to write one, and, that if I did, I’d come to understand just how rewarding composing them can be. Based on her powers of persuasion, and the added incentive of a twenty dollar side bet, I’m going to unveil my first, and I guarantee you, my absolutely last poetic offering. This tender epistle goes as follows:

Le Poem De La Sweat
I sit here at my keyboard fair,
Sweat beads streaking through my hair,
I just got home from working out at the gym,
In a very vain effort to get fit and trim.

I wonder why it has to be this way,
Joints a-hurtin’ and old legs that sway,
I’m breathing so hard, it’s like a monsoon,
I’m sure I could inflate a hot air balloon.

As I worked out, I looked all around,
Amazed at the different type people I found,
I cussed the skinny people who don’t break a sweat,
The more they eat, the thinner they get.
It doesn’t seem right, yet what can I do,
They’re still real skinny, but my stomach’s all goo.

And there’s a big guy, who’s puffing like me,
His sweatpants are too small, his gut I can see,
When he bends over to pick up some weights,
I think of full moons, the association I hate.

To my right is a lady, she works hard and tries,
No weight in her chest, but lots in her thighs,
She’s standing there eyeing the sit-up bench,
If she lays down on it, we may need a wench.

Right straight ahead is a real foxy mama,
Her tan lines remind me of the Bahamas,
Her work-out outfits couldn’t be more tiny,
If she makes a quick move, I might glimpse her heiny.

As for me, I’m on a Stairmaster,
A pretty good recipe for an impending disaster,
My legs are feeling like concrete poles,
If my brain were x-rayed, it’d be full of holes.

One minute goes by, then two, then three,
The water gods are all calling out to me,
My chest feels tight, my eyes feel glazed,
If I don’t throw up, I’ll be mega amazed.

Finally, I finish, and I can go home,
And sit my butt down, to finish this poem,
Amy, my dear, I enjoyed this plenty,
Now break out your purse and slip me that twenty.

Well, hmmmm. You know, I’ve gotta be honest here, Amy may be right. Poetry does bring out a tender, compassionate side within me that I never knew I had. To be totally truthful, I really struggled hard from an emotional standpoint while writing this poem, in fact, tears almost came to my eyes several times, but, I fought them off in order to do my literary duty. I guess I’ve sort of become a true Renaissance man, scripting out tender verses like these. It makes me feel pretty good inside, to tell you the truth. I would go further, and maybe get into some pretty heavy dialogue about philosophy or religion, but I can’t right now. I happen to be writing this on a Monday night, and RAW is WAR is about to come on. And, as we all know, even a true Renaissance man like me can’t miss out on seeing Triple H in action...

Thank you for being here Ed! It wouldn't be a Monday without you!!

If you like Ed, let him know! Leave a comment and I KNOW he'll get back to you! Enjoy the next six weeks and let me know..."Can we keep him? Can we? Can we .... Please...!"

"ChristmaSin'", his new Christmas novel, comes out in Nov. of '09!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_wQu3_9vvig you tube for a ChristmaSin

Author Site: www.ed-williams.com

Publisher: www.champagnebooks.com

Follow Ed on Twitter: www.twitter.com/ELW3