My awards

Saying for the Day-Like Olympic medals and tennis trophies, all the awards signified was that the owner had done something of no benefit to anyone more capably than everyone else.







In the last several days I have received two prestigious awards :
The Nice Matters Blog Award presented by Cindy
The Power of Schmooze Award presented by Margaret
When such honors are bestowed upon you an acceptance speech is required if not mandated.
I accept both of these awards in the spirit in which they were attended.
I do have to say, however, that the nice lady who I talked to about a walk in bathtub and said this about me “You are one angry, cranky, miserable retired man of the cloth..” might not agree about the nice award. Ah! But then she didn’t get to vote so that worked out well.
I am overwhelmed by the honor.
I owe any niceness I have to my parents and I thank God for them. They modeled niceness for me.
I owe my ability to Schmooze to Father Howard Brown my high school debate coach. I thank God for him.
Among the living I have to thank my good wife Betty and my children who always corrected me by saying “That wasn’t very nice”.
I thank my daughter-in-law Lori who also modeled niceness for me.
I thank the Boson on the Ore Boat for demonstrating the how not to be nice at all technique. Somewhere he is still tormenting deck hands.
I want to thank all five of my grandchildren for no particular reason.
I shall treasure these awards and proudly display them on this blog.
Finally I want to thank the voters of the Academy whose previous votes set up Margaret and Cindy to give me these awards.
To all you other blogs that are nicer and Schmoozyer than mine. Eat your heart out. Sometimes the wrong people get the awards. Live with it.
Both awards come with the authority to pick up to five blogs worthy of such high honors. I will work on that over the next week or so. Don’t rush me.

@@@@ News from Pigeon Falls-The little town in my basement where the trains still run, dragons fly, and Petrovich translates-Petrovich announced that there was a driblet that he thinks has to do with Nancy’s Wedding and he spent most of the night translating it from Coptic into English. This is not easy as often he can’t quite find English words for the Coptic so that it makes sense. But here is Dribblet Sixty Two as translated:
The princess comes to the City of Birds
She rides a golden carriage that is not gold
Pulled by white horses that are not horses.
Woe! Woe!Woe! To the city.
Now is then. Then is now.
The birds leave the City of the Birds.
The birds leave not to return.
No birds in the City of the Birds
People Cry
Bad things happen
They sing no more.
Tears! Tears! Tears!
Over and under and over again.
No songs sung.
The birds will not return.
No birds in the City of Birds
No songs sung.
Where are the birds?
No birds. No birds.
But then she comes. She alone can bring them back.
Power . She has power. Power.
She alone brings back the birds.
Let her sing. Let her sing.
No songs in the City of the Birds.
So endeth the dribblet.
Should Nancy cancel her wedding to save the pigeons? Does any of this make sense. Should she ride in a car? Are these images of what must be ? Who is the saving lady?And ,of course, is Tommy UK really the undertaker’s kid?
*****

Today's Link-KnowItAlz-A blog about living with Alzheimers.
Note Betty has a new entry on her blog. Note also, it is a new blog . She can't get to the old one.
Another rough breathing day. I did some work in the basement. I watched my soaps. I visited some blogs and left comments. I talked on the phone to my Sister Dawn. I polished my awards. Now I need a breathing treatment.
GBYA