1. State Flower – The Orange Traffic Cone
2. State Flour – Durum Semolina
3. Number of Museums Dedicated to Rock & Roll – 1
4. Number of Museums Dedicated to the Partridge Family – 0
5. Scariest Lake – Lake Eerie
6. State Joke: Q. What do young Stags see out of? A. Buckeyes.
7. State Electrical Unit – The Ohm
8. State Chanting Unit – The Om
9. City That is Most Thanked – Cleveland. As in “Thank you Cleveland! You’ve been great.”
10. State Fly – The Zipper
11. State Zipper – The Fly
12. State Bird – Roadrunner (Yes, the one the Coyote is after)
13. State Fragrance – Kumquat Spice
14. State Flag – Pennant-shaped. Technically a “burgee” shape. Flag has 17 stars because it was the 17th state when admitted in 1803
15. State Candy – M&M
16. State Rapper – Also Eminem
17. State Motto – Ohio: First in Lubrication
18. State Cannabis Motto – “Ohhh, High, Ohhh”
19. State Capitol – Ɏ (This is the symbol for the state capitol formerly known as Columbus, who’s not too popular these days)

 

 

Ohio is still annoyed by those little Dayton bicycle makers – the Wright Bros. – who had to go all the way to Kitty Hawk, NC for the world’s first flight. What, they couldn’t spend those 11 seconds on the shores of Lake Erie?

 

Q: What state is Ohio in?

A: Ohio is a state.

Q:  I mean what state…is Ohio in?

A: Oh, you mean like flux or ignorance.

1. Yeah.
2. Well I’d say Ohio was in a state of Denali.
3. You mean denial.
4. No. Denali. They want to be Mt McKinley, but they’re about 18,000 ft short.

1. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stove – Foodies rejoice. Harry and Co. hold you spellbound while conjuring magical dishes on Dumbledore’s hot plate
2. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secretions – Pubescent Harry locks himself in the bathroom and wrestles with the forces of acne
3. Harry Potter and the Pensioner of Azerbaijan – The widow Taskin asks a conflicted Harry to materialize a few Euros to tide her over till her Social Security check arrives
   

   It’s not me. It’s my agent that’s the wizard.

4. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Egg Yolks – Harry and the Gang hop on the bodybuilding band wagon through liquid supplements. He gets so buff his Nimbus 2000 can barely move under the newly acquired weight.
5. Harry Potter and the Ardor of the Penis – Sometimes a young wizard’s best friend is his other magic wand
6. Harry Potter and the Half Blood Sausage – A botched breakfast order at an Ipswich Denny’s unleashes a cascade of evil breakfast meats Harry must contain
7. Harry Potter and the Deathly Shallows – When several young wizards are found drowned in a 6” wading pool, Harry has to get to the bottom of it – the case and not the pool

 

Comping soon: Harry Potter and the Very Profitable Sequel

Me:    So what do you do for a living?

Them: I’m a typesetter.

Me:    Really. They still have those? Where do you work?

Them: In the 1700s.

Me:    OK. Well that’s a long way from here. How do you get there?

Them: Time machine.

Me:    Why don’t you get a job in the here and now?

Them: Because they don’t have these type jobs here.

 

Conversations I’ve Had in 1722

Me:    So what do you do for a living?

Them: I’m a word processor.

Me:    Hmmm. Never heard of that. Where do you work?

Them: In the 2200s.

Me:    Really. And how do you get there?

Them: Time machine.

Me:    Why don’t you get a job in the here and now?

Them: Too much of a process.

Me:    I know a guy you could job share with. Maybe you’ve met him on your commute. 

Stop reading and dial 911. You stupid putz.

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I mean, do you really need to be told this? 

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And if you are actually “dialing” 911, I think the medical emergency is the least of your problems. 

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~Burglary – To steal a guy named Larry

~Burglaries – Stealing more than one Larry. The French call it Tuileries.

~Burgle – A modified bugle with an “r” in it to wake up pirates in the morning. It blares out an “Rrrrrrrrr.”

~Burgled – When you’ve stolen a hamburger. As in: He burgled a burger at Burger King

~Inexplicableness – I’d like to define it, but I can’t quite describe it

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In my pot-smoking days of the early 1970’s marijuana was a lot like Tupperware – it was passed around at parties and purchased with great enthusiasm. Pot was so pervasive back then, all you had to do was breathe in and there was a chance you’d get high. Some people didn’t want to take that chance. They were fearful of this “reefer madness.” Then they’d try it, and suddenly, it was reefer gladness. Their transformation was not done with smoke and mirrors – it was just smoke.   

 

From ages 10-14 I partook of the giggle smoke whenever my elders were around. Now these weren’t parental-type elders. These were just elders who were older than me – older than David-the-Younger. Older, and more importantly, they had pot. It was like elders with benefits. The 1970s were a less judgmental time when you shared what you had without distinction of rank or age (thank you very much Woodstock generation). And from almost 50 years hence I recognize the following strange story might give the impression I’m high right now. I’m not. Except for a few salmon, David-the-Elder hasn’t smoked anything in decades.

 

In revisiting my cannabis memories, I’ve reanimated that familiar fuzzy state and in the process activated one mother of a flashback. In this case it’s a harrowing incident I’d like to share with you – an incident that is a constant reminder of the importance of choosing the right parents. Of course, as far as I can tell, children have never been consulted on the matter, so it’s a moot point. But what’s a valid point is that you have to play the hand you’re dealt: or, more specifically, the body and circumstances you’re born into. Once the veil comes down…Game On. And this episode I present is just one volley in that game.

 

This flashback has enduring power and has taught me to practice eternal vigilance. It’s not that I’m forever suspicious, I just try to be aware of my local circumstances – to see around the corners of my actions and anticipate their consequences. And although this bizarre yet authentic tale may sound like the product of a THC-influenced imagination, I once again assure you, David-the-Elder has NOT been smoking anything mind expanding – unless you want to count the salmon. But remember, no matter how much salmon you smoke, it’s just waist-expanding, not mind-expanding. Read the rest of this entry »

1. Murdering musician Herb Alpert: Herbicide
2. Murdering TV host Pat Sajak: P_tr_c_de
3. When you really mean to throw away your old mattress, but you accidentally kill your mother instead: Mattress-cide
4. When you want to end it all to be with Jim Morrison: Break on Through to the Othercide

4.5 When you kill Raymond Burr: Ironcide
4.8 When you cause Cy Durr’s hard apple cider poisoning: Cy Durr’s Cidercide
5. When you refuse to have your salad dressings brought separately: On the Sidecide
6. When Geno from the pizzeria really pisses you off: Genocide

This killer list was inspired by Crunch Berries – the psychoactive substance in Captain Crunch cereal

When you’re an adult in a kid’s body you see things differently. So when our gang of little rascals got caught doorbell ditching, I knew I wasn’t on a highway to hell – maybe a highway to hijinks, but certainly not the road to ruin. And not to sound too streetwise, but while some say that being brought home in a police squad car at the age of 11 may have been a precursor to a life of crime, to me it was the smallest of small potatoes. Bogart in Casablanca had it right in another context when he pointed out that these problems, “don’t amount to a hill of beans.” Potatoes, beans…it’s all food for thought.

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And as I air this cleanest of dirty laundry, I knew back in 1972 I was far, far removed from ever being churned, put through the wringer and then hung out to dry by the criminal justice system. And not to sound cleanlier than thou, I knew I’d not be taken to the cleaners by the authorities. Nope, I’d just be a little agitated. But by virtue of this “wrong of passage” (as opposed to a “rite of passage”), I’d get to be the coolest “bad boy” in Mr. Campbell’s 6^th Grade class for a couple of weeks. Since I was 11 at the time of the “incident” allow me to kidsplain the story to you.   

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I understood limits – how far to push against something before it snapped back at you. Even as an 11-year-old stripling I was mightily aware of boundary lines and the importance of staying within them. Life was like a giant coloring book that way and I was savvy enough to stay inside the lines so my life wouldn’t become messy. In advertising my “brush with the law” to my schoolmates I was hoping for a measure of street cred to give the 11-year-old Hardiman brand a whiff of danger and a quantum of Bondian cachet (so much for kidsplainin’).

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Yes, at the tender age of 11 in 1972 I was trying to create a buzz in the pre-social media influencer age. Maybe I could have it all at 11. I could be clever, tall, handsome and dangerous. That was the calculus anyway, even if this ego-driven fantasy was built on a sandcastle of collapsing truths. I wanted to be a bad ass, but in the easy, non-confrontational way – to be regarded as a bad ass, not by fighting or stealing, but by reputation so I wouldn’t have to do the heavy lifting required to be an actual bad ass. Read the rest of this entry »