ARIZONA KILTS

I could probably do the Highland Fling. But I can only do the rudimentary steps of line dancing. The salsa or merengue: forget it. Waltz or polka: nope. Too much to learn, too much to follow. The box step: yup, the best dance step ever invented.

But this entry is not about dancing. It's about comfort in dress. It's about shorts.

I have a few nice pairs of dress shorts, that are linen or something fancier than my preferred khaki or jean shorts. I've worn shorts forever and was fortunate to get to wear them when I taught school. All because back spasms and a non-airconditioned room in the southern part of Illinois.

So I pushed the envelope and opted to wear shorts to church a few weeks ago. Our preacher approved and complimented me on them. My wife did not. She told me I was being disrespectful. I have to disagree, only because I hardly ever wear socks to church in Arizona. I have different sandals that I rotate, but it seems to me that socks, or lack of them, would be more disrespectful.

I'm really not all that much about comfort. I don't wear flip flops or frayed shorts. And I mean no disrespect. But I probably won't wear shorts again to church, though several other worshippers do.

What does this have to do with the Highland Fling? I think Caroline would prefer I wear a kilt. Not really, but I think she favors the kilt look over my shorts appeal. At least she told me something like that, that kilts were maybe a smart invention.

Maybe those dress pants with the expandabile waists don't seem so bad after all.

TAKE THE RED OUT

I should be catching another ray or two right about now. You see it's too hot even for me to play golf. Oh, it's probably not. When I think of the elements and weather I withstood in the Midwest to play a round. But I'm spoiled now. And I've also found out that it doesn't seem to affect my score that much whether I play once or five times a week.

I'm pretty consistent. Usually the driver and three wood behave. Sometimes short irons, sometimes the chip shot, but that's rarer these days. My nemisis. The putter.

So what does this have to do with the red eye? Well, you see, I should be working on my short game, but since I'm not, I was pooling it today. Until my wife maliciously and repeatedly splashed me. Why? I can't recall. It must have been something I said. Oh yeah, it was.
I remember now. To prove that she couldn't get the upper hand, I flew off my raft and sank to the depths of the three feet of water I was in. When I came up, my eyes felt like the red in the
picture. Some would say,"too much chlorine." But I know better--my eyes hurt because there's not enough chlorine.

Anyway(s), that's why I'm out. And I'm gonna stay out till the ph gets better.
Let's see, I can't golf because of the heat, I can't swim because of the chlorine. It's tough out here in the Southwest.
Maybe I'll just retire from retirement.

IS YOU IS, OR IS YOU AIN'T A PLANET?

Not only that, but how we view the changing state of Pluto tells us a lot about who we are.

If we take the reactionary stance that when we were kids it was a planet, so it ought to be today. We are the Blutoists then. You remember Bluto the bully from Popeye.

If we take the post modern stance that whatever we previously were taught is wrong, then we embrace the notion that Pluto is not a planet. We are then the Rejectionists. We probably read and believed the davinci code.

If we take the indifferent stance that we don't care; it doesn't mean anything to us whether Pluto is a planet or not. Then we are the Hedonists. If it doesn't directly affect us, then what do we care?

If we take a wait and see stance, then we are the Reactionists. We'll wait until the media tells us what to think. If how can Couris be wrong?

Of course, there are also several sub-classes such as the Naysayers who never believed we went to the moon; the Revisionists who will soon say, Pluto was never a real planet anyway(s); and the Obliterates who deny that there are any planets because by definition a planet takes care of its occupants and there is no class distinction.

I just hope the Disney folks don't rename their dog now.

WHO'S TOUGHER THAN TIGER?

I'm really not a big fan of Mr. Woods. I can't say I'm not a fan because I certainly admire his golf game. It's his persona I'm not wild about.

Not that I've never behaved badly on a golf course. But I never had a tv camera on me with the world watching. That makes all the difference, because despite the claim that athletes aren't role models, they are. And that's why Tiger should get some more control.

I do know a little about performing in front of people. Teaching high school for 30 years put me in a much smaller spotlight, but it was in front of people. And did I ever get angry at a student? Did I ever get upset over some response or action? You know I did. But did I ever lash out and throw a book or eraser? Did I ever kick a desk over? Did I ever lay a hand on a student? Did I ever curse one?

Thankfully the answers to all the above are no. Yet Tiger hardly ever plays in a tournament when he doesn't act badly at some point. And that's my beef with him. Phil Michelson and a ton of others don't act that way. At least not while on camera.

When Super Tiger attacks, no one can touch him. He is one outstanding competitor. He's the best golfer in the history of the sport. Now, if he could only get some control.

WHATEVER SAYS IT ALL OR NOTHING AT ALL

I suppose it all began with Alicia Silverstone, Reese Witherspoon, or Lindsay Lohan. Maybe Shel Silverstein. I don't know, I get them all mixed up. But it seems to me that, "Whatever," accompanied by eye rolling was first popularized by one of those listed in a Clueless-type movie.

It was picked up by high school girls who used it the same way back in the late 90's. Then it transgendured to the guys, said flippantly, and preceeded by Yeah.

Of course, additions such as You say, expletive(s). The meanings are basically the same.

Back in the 80's, it was "Really." Not intoned with a question. Just really. Which meant, I agree completely with that or whatever (no pun here) you say (also used today in current vogue modified to Whatever he/she said), or are likely to say now or in the future.

My five, soon to be six year old grandson has picked up Whatever. He says it cooler than anyone. I know he got it from his eight, almost nine year old sister. But when he says it with authority, he means, I couldn't care less. Or is it I could care less? But that' s for another blog.

I promise to stretch it out so you won't think of me too much as a former English teacher hooked on Eats Shoots and Leaves.