Meta and Meta

Places New, and Ladies Too

The Enchantress and I got to talking about television shows we liked as kids. The pickin's in Barbados were slim, but one show I used to watch was "B.J. and the Bear."

It was only as I explained to TE why I used to want to be B.J. McKay (which character was played by Greg Evigan) that I realized how exquisitely preposterous the show concept was:

Well, honey, B.J. McKay was a really cool, handsome itinerant trucker who always got hot chicks and wound up involved in dramatic adventures. And he owned a chimp named "Bear."

Right...

And of course it turns out that several people have youtubed the show's intro theme and montage. ("And best of all I don't pay property tax!") It doesn't get much better than that.

It's The Pictures That Got Small

I queried of the Enchantress whether she might not wish to join me for a movie.

"Well," she replied, "I looked in L.A. Weekly. But nothing really knocked me up."

A Legal Jam

My legal training sometimes comes in handy in resolving domestic disputes...

The Enchantress: Don't you eat all my Powidl.
Me: I didn't eat all your Powidl.
The Enchantress: Well, don't.
Me: I didn't. Hey, and you already had a lot of the Powidl.
The Enchantress: Well, it's my Powidl. My dad brought it for me.
Me: Honey, we're in California. California is a community property state. We obtained the Powidl in the course of our marriage. Therefore, the Powidl is community property.
The Enchantress: [Pause] So that means I can use your guitar then.
Me: Er...

...but not every time.

The Roots of Comedy

And then there was the following exchange, which occurred upon my noticing the Enchantress' peeling a vaguely familiar root vegetable:

Me: Are you making sweet potatoes?
The Enchantress: I yam.

Again, I tell you, she didn't even miss a beet.

The Sense of Taste

I was reading the Wikipedia article on Stevie Wonder, which notes that

[o]n August 6, 1973, just days after the release of Innervisions, Wonder was in a serious automobile accident while on tour, when a log from a truck went through a passenger window and struck him in the head. This left him in a coma for a while and resulted in a permanent loss of his sense of smell.

Struck by this unhappy irony, I read the passage aloud to the Enchantress.

Without missing a beat, she responded, "Bet he didn't see that coming."

Husbands and Wives

Flashback. Upon seeing the now-empty tray formerly filled with the scones she'd created, my wife complained to me: "You didn't thank me for baking such wonderful scones."

"But honey," I replied, "when it comes to the culinary arts, consumption is the sincerest form of flattery."

She's not buying it.

I'll never understand women.

Cheatin' Hearts

The Enchantress and I were disscussing infidelity this morning. She had just found out that a male friend of hers whom she otherwise greatly admired had recently stepped out on his wife (who is also a friend).  Because I am a musician and on the road away from home most of the year, our talk inevitably turned toward my own behavior in this, er, area. And so it was that the Enchantress joshingly tried to explain to me why it would be pointless for me to try to shag random hotties while out on the road.

"If girls who go to your shows really knew you (like I do), they'd be the first ones to run away."

"But honey," I countered, "if everyone really knew their potential mates, no one would ever hook up."

Which is true (tout comprendre, c'est tout mépriser), and, I figure, a good reason not to shag random hotties.

Dammit.