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Yosemite morning

Thursday, April 8, 2021

Senior moments

It's an ill wind that blows no good - John Heywood, 1546

I had to go to the local hardware store this morning to get some rags to polish silver with. If you are throwing away any old t-shirts let me know. I always need soft rags.

Anyway I am standing in a long line, only two cashiers working and one of them was Tresa, the manager. People must have called in sick today, it's usually not that bad.

I felt a little cough and put my clenched fist to my mask. Sinuses have been acting up of late. Unfortunately for me and to my utmost chagrin, I broke wind at the exact moment of the cough, just a little off tempo, the wayward blast a staccato sixteenth note away. 

The escapee was not a welcome invitee, it just showed up at the worst possible time, like the awful cousins you can't stand that stop by to use the pool without calling. But what can a man do? The deed was done.

If I may be permitted to brag a bit, my gaseous syncopation was worthy of Sousa, but more bassoon than tuba, please don't ask me what key. Not terribly loud, thank heaven, and as far as I know without deleterious olfactory resonance, but perfectly placed in this particular measure, if I do say so myself.

The salient question was, did I cough loud enough? Did I manage to seal the deal and obscure my wanton intestinal larceny?

I looked around quickly and did a cursory survey check both port and starboard on peoples' expressions, good, nary a smile or frown. A Flatulence Assessment in Real Time (FART), I think I got away with this one, just squeaked by, if I may coin a phrase. 

Whew, did I jump the fetid shark, or what? Came close to not being able to return to the only decent hardware store in town lest I hang my head in shame. A real Drobkin moment. Is one lone cheeser an egregious enough offense to get one thrown off the team? Unfortunately, it is not a fair world that we live in. Too many sad calls of colonic distress have been met with nothing but humiliation and ridicule. One must keep a semblance of intestinal fartitude.

I told a friend about my infamous rectal contretemps a little while ago and he said that more and more of that stuff happens as you get older. 

I guess I am going to have a lot to write about and look forward to. This one was touch and go. And the answer my friend, is blowing in the wind, the answer is blowing in the wind...

9 comments:

Hudgins said...

A fart in time saves {fill in the blank}

MRE said...

Only you could get a way with sharing a dissertation on bodily functions. Let me tell you about my irritable bowel syndrome at Home depot w/ my grandson......

Lena said...

Staccato sixteenth you say! Hilariously rendered!

Anonymous said...


If I had been drinking a beverage I would of spit it out in laughter.
You post $$$ artwork & storied treasures but this warrants a comment😂

WildBill said...

“Three things to remember when you get older: never pass up a bathroom, never waste a hard-on, and never trust a fart.”
JACK NICHOLSON - Edward
“The Bucket List” (movie)

Rachel said...

Dad would have liked this one.

Brigitte Schlemmer said...

You used a 'jump the shark' reference and now the entire story is basically about Fonzi on water skis in a leather jacket.

KAT JOY said...

These days it would have been the time to call out, "six feet!"

Blue Heron said...

So true Kat, it would have been considerate and socially correct but all I could think of was "must maintain poker face."