Select Page

While I was eating in a restaurant the other day…

I overheard some people talking about some television programs they were watching.

To tell you the truth, I didn’t have a clue as to what they were talking about. 

They might as well have been speaking some strange foreign language. 

Little known fact about yours truly

I don’t watch any “regular” television programs and haven’t for many years.

“Doc” the World famous Black Lab and myself confine our television viewing to three things.

The Turner Classic Movie Channel, College Football, more specifically Alabama Crimson Tide College Football games, and the Weather Channel, more specifically to see the lovely Stephanie Abrams. 

Slightly off the subject, I have been told, regarding the lovely Miss Stephanie Abrams…

“You know those aren’t real”

Just so you know, I have on good authority that all her forecasts are indeed quite real. 

EDITORS NOTE: Don’t judge me, “Doc” and I live alone together. 

I would be remiss if I didn’t add here, that the only time I veer from something else to watch from Turner Classic Movies is when they have one of those weird Elizabethan Era movies with everybody wearing puffy britches and wigs and they look off to the heavens and belch out soliloquy after soliloquy. 

Or when they have a “Salute to the Hollywood Musical” Night. 

That is unless they have Ann Margaret or Ginger Rogers on the particular program. 

EDITORS NOTE: Don’t judge me, “Doc” and I live alone together and he likes Ann Margaret too. 

Typically that would call for me to insert a well-worn DVD in, like say

“The Dirty Dozen”. 

But on this night, I decided to channel surf, “yes” I did….

There before my eyes was “The Grammy Awards Show”

The show was just beginning…..

People in the audience were clapping and a list of  upcoming “performers” on the program was scrolling across my television screen. 

I didn’t recognize a damn name on the list. 

Not one.

EDITORS NOTE: Perhaps this was my first clue that I am indeed getting older. 

The camera’s switched to some of the “entertainers” coming in to the auditorium. 

I saw one guy or gal that looked like he or she was dressed in an old couch cover from Goodwill. 

Whatever it was also looked like their hair had a fight with a Weed-Eater, and lost. 

I felt like I was in some weird time warp watching this parade of space aliens.

A person with a microphone asked someone dressed in a multicolored shower curtain with a bucket on their head. 

“How are you feeling tonight?”

Person in the shower curtain with a bucket on their head said….

“(Garble) You know (Garble) been to (Unintelligible) Din (or possible “Dean”) Yeah!

EDITORS NOTE: Maybe if “IT” didn’t have a damn bucket on its head we could have understood what the hell they were trying to say, just a thought. 

“IF” that wasn’t confusing enough, there were the names (I use that term loosely) of the “entertainers”. 

What the hell was a “Billie Ellish”?

I thought that was what my stomach sounds like the morning after eating ill prepared Mexican food. 

It sure sounds that way hitting the toilet bowl, just saying. 

Not to mention that (whatever it is) looked like it just came from an explosion at the Sherman Williams paint factory. 

Uforo Ebong?

That’s not a name, that’s a foot fungus that I got once in Mexico. 

Now that we are on the subject of names…..

What the hell is going on using the term “Lil”, as in what I can assume means


As in “Lil Nas X” and “Lil Baby Guna”

Am I supposed to believe that their parents named them that?

EDITORS NOTE: I don’t want to know

But on a unrelated, yet important side note:

In the event your ass won’t “fit” on the tailgate of a Ford F-150 Pickup truck then you ain’t “Lil”.

EDITORS NOTE: Don’t be mad at me, I don’t make the rules I am just telling you what they are. 

Then they listed the songs up for “awards”


EDITORS NOTE: A song about a Cuban Sandwich? 


EDITORS NOTE: I tried to actually pronounce this word and spit on the computer screen

“Doc” and I had had enough, he had turned away from the television screen and I was getting a headache. But just before I switched channels to see if the lovely Miss Stephanie Abrams could possibly be on the Weather Channel, they announced the first “winner” of the evening. 

They played a snippet of the “winning” song……

EDITORS NOTE: I have heard two possums fighting in a metal garbage that had more rhythm than that damn “song”

I had no idea what the damn thing was that won the award for what I can assume was “Best” Unintelligible Song of the Year that Rhymed with Words that have Absolutely No Meaning. 

I say “it” won, because whatever it was had on something that looked like a Chewbacca costume that had been thrown in a woodchipper and then caught on fire.
But once at the microphone, “it” leaned over and said….

“Yeah, (Garbled) Say (incomprehensible babbling) when I (meaningless garbled words)”
Then everyone applauded 

EDITORS NOTE: Seriously, they all applauded. Applauded what, I have no idea. 

The television channel was turned and order was restored in the house and “Doc” sighed in relief. 

Although Stephanie Abrams was unfortunately NOT on the Weather Channel that evening, with a quick flip of a DVD, good Ole Lee Marvin was still killing Germans in World War II, bless his heart. 

A little while later as Charles Bronson was killing more Nazis, it was time for Doc and I to go to bed. 

We would resume with Charles Bronson the following evening, that ‘s the joy of the DVD.

But I couldn’t help but give myself a mental debrief on the visual and mental trauma I had experienced before turning it in for the evening. I could have “What the Hell did I just see?” myself to sleep. 

That’s never a good thing 

I could have told myself how “Old” I felt by watching that parade of goofballs with their idiotic names. 

But that would have only made me feel bad about myself. There is no point in that.
Instead I pulled the covers back from the bed, as “Doc” had already taken his place on his pillow and I softly asked Doc, “Where is Marvin Gaye when you need him?” 

Now that I think about it, I may start my “singing” career tomorrow.

I will make a lot of noise by hitting a cardboard box with a tennis racket, while I string some cuss words together than rhyme with truck.

I may have found my new niche

It’s the Lil things in life, you know?