What makes people desire to rush out to a crowded beach right now? I don't get it.
I feel like talking in spondees all day. DAD-GUM RIGHT!
I will be listening in on a discussion of Zelda Fitzgerald at 3 this afternoon with Fitzgerald scholars in what is supposed to be a "spirited discussion." I like spirited discussions. Don't you? Especially if I can listen and learn.
At a dance in July 1918, barely a month after graduating from Sidney Lanier High School, Zelda met F. Scott Fitzgerald, a 21-year-old army second lieutenant stationed at nearby Camp Sheridan.
If I had been at that dance in Montgomery and met Zelda first, history might have been different. Reckon? Fred and Zelda. It has a ring to it. 
Before I descend into my daily secluded thoughtless reverie I thought I would set the record straight.
I wasn't made to live like this. I was made to be a dashing man about town, seeking thrills and adventures in retirement, dining nightly in fancy restaurants, attending Jay Gatsby parties, talked about and getting written up in local gossip columns.
This quarantined life is NOT what I had mind. Just had to take my stand, as we say in the South.
I still remember how to shuck corn, snap string beans, and shell peas and butterbeans. I can still thump a watermelon and tell if it's ripe. I can still make delicious Spam sandwiches and I know the words to "Mighty Mouse." Here he comes to save the day. . . . I can do a reasonable impersonation of Quickdraw McGraw. I say, I say there, boy, you about as sharp as a bowling ball, and I can do Yo-Yo tricks if called upon. (Rock the baby, walk the dog, around the world, etc.) I'm still good as ever with Bible Sword Drills, and I only tell clean jokes.
Not bad, huh?
Before I descend into my daily secluded thoughtless reverie I thought I would set the record straight.
I wasn't made to live like this. I was made to be a dashing man about town, seeking thrills and adventures in retirement, dining nightly in fancy restaurants, attending Jay Gatsby parties, talked about and getting written up in local gossip columns.
This quarantined life is NOT what I had mind. Just had to take my stand, as we say in the South.
I still remember how to shuck corn, snap string beans, and shell peas and butterbeans. I can still thump a watermelon and tell if it's ripe. I can still make delicious Spam sandwiches and I know the words to "Mighty Mouse." Here he comes to save the day. . . . I can do a reasonable impersonation of Quickdraw McGraw. I say, I say there, boy, you about as sharp as a bowling ball, and I can do Yo-Yo tricks if called upon. (Rock the baby, walk the dog, around the world, etc.) I'm still good as ever with Bible Sword Drills, and I only tell clean jokes.
Not bad, huh?
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