Wit of the Day: Groucho Marx

I love, love, LOVE used book sales! Look at all the books I picked up for just a couple bucks! One of my favorite books in the pile is that Treasury of Wit & Wisdom. Because a. I love a good witticism and b. I can use all the wisdom I can get.
Sadly, I do not always have time for wit and wisdom. But then, in what can only be called a witty and wise moment, I had a thought. I bet you like wit and wisdom, too! So I’m going to share here, on the blog; that should motivate me. Occasionally. And possibly, I’ll share a bit of trivia about the person I’m quoting. Because I love, love LOVE bizarre factoids about people, too. I’m not sure why.
To wit:

“A child of five would understand this. Send someone to fetch a child of five.”

~Groucho Marx

I’m pretty sure I could have used this line earlier today, trying to figure out something on the Internets. And now a few odd tidbits about Groucho. He dropped out of school at the age of 12, but wrote several books and was friends with T.S. Eliot and Carl Sandberg. He was also friendly with Elton John (though he called him John Elton). And for many years, on stage and the movies, that trademark moustache? Greasepaint.
What about you? Got a favorite Groucho Marx quote or story? Do share!

(P.S. That’s a candy scarecrow necklace, propped up there, on top of the books. Though when I wore it, I felt like it was this cute, little candy person, swinging by its poor little candy neck. Ew.)

Finding Something Friday on Rain At My House!

(With apologies to those who might be a bit damp in other parts of the country)

RAIN!

RAIN, glorious rain!
How happy to see you!
Not just a few drops
But big splashes to soak you!

Just thinking of getting wet
my senses are reeling!
One moment of knowing that
Cooled down feeling!

Rain, glorious rain!
What wouldn’t we give for?
That extra downpour?
That’s all that we live for!

Why should we be stuck so hot,
boiling over like crabs in a pot?

Oh, rain! Magical rain!
Heavenly rain! Beautiful rain!
Marvelous rain! Wonderful rain!
GLORIOUS rain!

Tooting My Horn Tuesday on Taking Out the Trash

Yes, yes, I’ll get to the taking out the trash bit. But first, I have to toot my horn just a little for my superior technical compu-skills.

See, I had a TON of documents and invoice templates and pdf’s and ebooks and probably the very first essay I ever wrote, all hanging about, gathering cyberdust on the office computer. And as you know (since you follow along here at the Hall of Fame), I work on Precious the Laptop now, far away from the office where the Beneficent Mr. Hall resides (when he’s not taking his afternoon siesta).

Back in January (give or take a year), I had the presence of mind to zip all that stuff on to one of those zippy flash drives. And as fate would have it, I found that flash drive today (!) while waiting 35 minutes for the office computer to do its thing (P.S. It never quite did its thing.) Long story short, everything is now safely tucked away on Precious the Laptop (Okay, yes. The Beneficent Mr. Hall may have made a few suggestions as to how this delicate compu-feat could be accomplished. But I pressed the buttons.) So, ta-daaaaa! There really is no telling what scathingly brilliant stuff I might dig up, dust off, and send out.

Just like “Taking Out the Trash.” That’s the poem I mentioned a month or so ago here. The one I reworked several times, until finally I won the Katherine Kennedy McIntyre Light Verse Award in the 2011 North Carolina Poetry Society’s Competition. I received a lovely book called Pinesong where all the award-winning poems are published, and a lovely certificate and a very lovely check. So I think it’s okay to share the poem (which I found on my zippy flash drive. So there really was a point to that first bit of the post).

Taking Out the Trash

It was just ‘round the time when kids fall asleep,
And fathers plop down in soft chairs.
With dishwashers running, and TVs a-humming,
As mothers tread soft on the stairs.

“Did you take out the trash?” she asked with a smile,
She doubted he’d gotten right to it.
“Ten minutes,” he said, never turning his head.
Why rush around now and do it?

She picked up the gym clothes, the games and the books.
She put everything back in its place.
He sprawled on his seat, with his two propped-up feet,
A look of sheer bliss on his face.

She packed all the lunches, wrote checks, stamped the bills,
Fed the dog, even cleaned the fish bowl.
He cheered on his team, with a whoop and a scream.
“The trash, please!” she begged. His eyes rolled.

Okay,” he replied to the tone in her voice,
With a sidelong glance at the mother.
“I can never relax,” he said, stating the facts.
“It’s just one thing after another!”