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My son sent me this but cannot attribute it to the proper source. I’m sorry I cannot provide any linkage to the proper source, but to whoever wrote it, Thank You.

Religions of the World

Taoism: Shit happens. Confucianism: Confucius say, “Shit happens.” Buddhism: If shit happens, it isn’t really shit. Zen Buddhism: Shit is, and is not. Zen Buddhism #2: What is the sound of shit happening? Hinduism: This shit has happened before. Islam: If shit happens, it is the will of Allah. Islam #2: If shit happens, kill the person responsible. Islam #3: If shit happens, blame Israel. Catholicism: If shit happens, you deserve it. Protestantism: Let shit happen to someone else. Presbyterian: This shit was bound to happen. Episcopalian: It’s not so bad if shit happens, as long as you serve the right wine with it. Methodist: It’s not so bad if shit happens, as long as you serve grape juice with it. Congregationalist: Shit that happens to one person is just as good as shit that happens to another. Unitarian: Shit that happens to one person is just as bad as shit that happens to another. Lutheran: If shit happens, don’t talk about it. Fundamentalism: If shit happens, you will go to hell, unless you are born again. (Amen!) Fundamentalism #2: If shit happens to a televangelist, it’s okay. Fundamentalism #3: Shit must be born again. Judaism: Why does this shit always happen to us? Calvinism: Shit happens because you don’t work. Seventh Day Adventism: No shit shall happen on Saturday. Creationism: God made all shit. Secular Humanism: Shit evolves. Christian Science: When shit happens, don’t call a doctor - pray! Christian Science #2: Shit happening is all in your mind. Unitarianism: Come let us reason together about this shit. Quakers: Let us not fight over this shit. Utopianism: This shit does not stink. Darwinism: This shit was once food. Capitalism: That’s MY shit. Communism: It’s everybody’s shit. Feminism: Men are shit. Chauvinism: We may be shit, but you can’t live without us… Commercialism: Let’s package this shit. Impressionism: From a distance, shit looks like a garden. Idolism: Let’s bronze this shit. Existentialism: Shit doesn’t happen; shit IS. Existentialism #2: What is shit, anyway? Stoicism: This shit is good for me. Hedonism: There is nothing like a good shit happening! Mormonism: God sent us this shit. Mormonism #2: This shit is going to happen again. Wiccan: An it harm none, let shit happen. Scientology: If shit happens, see “Dianetics”, p.157. Jehovah’s Witnesses: >Knock<>Knock< Shit happens. Jehovah’s Witnesses #2: May we have a moment of your time to show you some of our shit? Jehovah’s Witnesses #3: Shit has been prophesied and is imminent; only the righteous shall survive its happening. Moonies: Only really happy shit happens. Hare Krishna: Shit happens, rama rama. Rastafarianism: Let’s smoke this shit! Zoroastrianism: Shit happens half on the time. Church of SubGenius: BoB shits. Practical: Deal with shit one day at a time. Agnostic: Shit might have happened; then again, maybe not. Agnostic #2: Did someone shit? Agnostic #3: What is this shit? Satanism: SNEPPAH TIHS. Atheism: What shit? Atheism #2: I can’t believe this shit! Nihilism: No shit.

And of course we must add…Alcoholics Anonymous: Shit happens-one day at a time!

I’ve been on a lifelong quest to make my son smart. I frequently exhaust a subject that I deem necessary to his intellectual growth. With him at Exeter, he gets a glimpse of what it’s like to be near the people who run the country. Most of the kids there come from very well off families, some quite famous. Actually my family is well off, it’s just that I’m the poor relation…..every family has one of those.

Anyway, I’ve been trying to tutor my son in the art of accessing power. Lots of folks, when they want to get something done will call the CEO, Senator, Congressman or whoever is in power. They’ll write letters, and make a million phone calls. These attempts always fail unless you’re somehow connected or have a lot of influence of some type. Those powerful types have legions of secretaries who’s job it is to make sure that you won’t get to talk to them. The secret I told my son was that if you want access to power, go directly to the person’s personal secretary. Think of it, the secretary of a CEO basically has the power of the CEO, plus they are very accessable. They usually have the power of the pen and also have the ear of the person in charge. I always talk to the secretary. They’re accessable, will listen, and more times than not will grant any reasonable request. My son took this knowledge I gave him and was able to set up an interview by phone of our senator so he could use it in a report. He called the secretary, made his case, and had a phone interview about 3 hours later. The senator even called him. This technique really works, have used it myself and have benefited more than a few times.

Now, my kid wants me to translate Cicero so he doesn’t have to do it, but I told him that the translation of Cicero is a passage of youth. If I had to do it, so does he…..Ha Ha

Once upon a time, way back in ‘77, I was a Junior in college. Back in those days, I had that smug, all knowing self confidence typical with many students.

Even though I was majoring in the physical sciences, I hung around mostly with the liberal arts and humanities crowd. They accepted me and I accepted them.

One Friday morning, I was sitting in the union at a table with a bunch of my friends. It was a mixed crowd, and I was retelling one of the raunchier jokes I had heard the night before at a poker game. The joke was disgusting, no, it was way beyond that. Everyone at the table laughed, as it was pretty funny. A long hair guy at the next table over, piped up and told me that I shouldn’t be telling that joke in mixed company. I basically told him to fuck off, and he got real redneck with me. Some shouting went on between us, bad things said. He got up out of his chair, I got up out of mine.

We grabbed each other, and I ended up throwing him up against the wall. I was about to bust him in the face when some people grabbed and separated us. With that, I left the room. A few of my buddies(guys and girls) left with me. As it turns out, the guy I almost fought was Jimmy Buffett, who was playing a concert at our school that night. I’d never heard of him at that time, he hadn’t yet become the legend he is for people in the midwest and other places. I didn’t know at the time that the guy I was facing off with was a future star, not that it would matter. All I saw was a guy who was sticking his nose into someone elses business. We ended up going to the concert as it was free to students, and was a good place to get stoned. I totally enjoyed the concert, as he gave a pretty good show. I do believe that we made eye contact at one point, and he gave me a leer.

By the way, I enjoy Buffett’s music once in awhile. It is overplayed here in Florida, for the tourists benefit. I bear him no ill will. I’ve heard that he has taken up surfing in his old age(longboarding). I’d share a wave with him anyday. I’ve grown up

This is an original drawing by Picasso circa 1936 that I picked up.

This is my lovely drawing by Van Loo that is one of my prizes.

Here is a picture of our Renoir that is hanging above our mantle. I will post other pictures of our art collection as I learn how to use this blog.

Cool Clothes: At our age no other sport allows us to be so fashionable wearing baggy shorts & shirts, sweat stained ball caps, and praying mantis rainbow shades.

Cool Cars: Living in suburbia living vicariously off of surf movies, we have no good reason to own a fully tricked out HUMMER. But if we’re going on a surfari to say, Central America (or just braggin about going), then a guy’s gotta have the appropriate wheels.

Cool Language: It’s not often in our high level business meetings we get to say, “Dudes, Mackin, Worked, Housed, Floater, Airs, Kooks.” So surfing allows us to enrich our vocabulary and syntax.

Cool Magazines: Guys get tired of reading Forbes, Money, Fortune and Golf Digest. The surfing rags have more pictures, so we don’t have to read, plus once a month you get a nice butt shot of the Reef Brazil girls. (Did we mention “Woodie” in the language part?)

Long Boards: Riding the big ones (boards and waves) announces you’re at the top of the food chain in surfing. They paddle easier, catch waves sooner, and you don’t have to throw your back out turning them like you do on those damn potato chips.

Travel: There’s nothing like a good swell as an excuse to blow off the weekend “Honey-do” list and go to the beach.(”It’s only this good once a year sweetheart, I can clean gutters anytime!) For those who can get away with saying you’re going to some South Pacific island that has only thatch-roofed huts, no running water or electricity and only raw fish for food, having a Tavarua brochure on your coffee table has a certain cache to it. Of course, most of us won’t go since there are no hot tubs or places to buy cigars.

Male Bonding: Though not normally a team sport, surfing seems to be dominated by guys. So if you’re so socially maladjusted you can’t find a girlfriend, there are plenty of guys out in the break between sets you can bitch to about women.

Virility: Scientific studies by Dr. Peter Duke have proven conclusively that straddling a surfboard in very cold water causes the gonadal tissue to contract and shrivel, thereby stimulating and increasing the production of testosterone. Though surfing is a unique activity in which this occurs, you can always dip your balls in a bowl of ice water, but it’s not nearly as much fun.

Three Words - Chicks love Surfers!

Stephen King has a house about a mile away from where we live. We see him all of the time shopping at Publix, by the Jetty, and just around town. It’s no real big deal as we seem to get more than our share of celebs in this area. My barber related a great Stephen King story to me yesterday when I was getting a trim. My barber is a New York Italian, a “Guido” sort of guy. I find him to be very entertaining, and he gives a great shave.

It happens that Stephen King went into his shop for a haircut. Joe, the barber, made small talk with King as he usually does with his customers. He asked King what he did. King replied that he wrote books. Joe asked, what books did he write. King went down a whole list of his books. Joe said he never heard of any of them. He asked King what his name was and when told, he said he never heard of him. Joe didn’t really believe King wrote all of the books he said that he did. He finished up the haircut and handed King his glasses which are very thick. Joe commented that maybe Stephen King should write less books and then he wouldn’t need such “Coke Bottles” to see with. He told me that he really “Busted this guy’s stones.” The other guys waiting in the barbershop were cracking up when King left in a huff, all pissed off. They couldn’t believe that Joe never heard of Stephen King. Joe told me that he told them that the only book that he reads is the “Daily Racing Form.” When one of the guys mentioned that King wrote “Shawshank Redemption” Joe immediately knew THAT story. Still, he didn’t give a fuck either way.

Stephen King lives in our neighborhood 6 or 7 months a year and expects to be treated like royalty. He bought a 15 million dollar house on Casey Key, and drives a Suburban. He gave lots of money to the Tsunami victims which his publicist made sure got plastered all over our local papers. It took one little barber 20 minutes to give King a major dose of humility. I laughed my ass off all day yesterday thinking about that encounter. I only wish I was there.