Chris Rodell's Blog, page 9

March tweets o' the month!

 Despite near zero evidence anyone reads these here, yet again, are my bestest, most razzle-dazzlest tweets of the month. Enjoy! Or don't ...• It must have been difficult being married to Plato. As a big shot Greek philosopher, he must've attracted his share of female admirers. But if she ever busted him in a compromising position he could truthfully say, "Babe, I swear, it's purely Platonic.”•

Stinkbug in my ear, Wordle on my mind

 (697 words)My first profanity of the day came roaring out of my mouth at about 5:30 a.m.I was awakened by a stinkbug in my left ear. And when I say “in my left ear,” I’m not exaggerating.It was deep in there. Like a half-inch from the brain. It was in where you’d expect a common sense stinkbug would go if there was a downpour in my bedroom and it needed to seek shelter in a cozy, waxy place away

Some stuff I'm prayin' on

 (648 words)Just learned my older brother has been in and out of the hospital all week with severe abdominal pains that have, thus far, evaded diagnosis. We spoke, I empathized, and told him I’d pray for him.And as I said so, it dawned on me that lately I’ve been doing a helluva lot of praying.I probably pray for God to cure/heal/de-escalate on behalf of maybe two dozen or so friends/loved ones/

Where is Mrs. Putin?

 (708 words)While global conflict experts are wondering how long Ukraine can hold on, if the Russian economy will collapse, and if nuclear nightmares are in play, I keep thinking of something more intimate.That is, “What does Mrs. Putin have to say about all this?”In mankind’s long and bloody history of pointless wars, this one strikes me as one of the bloodiest and most pointless. I’m

Hooray! It's time for February Tweets of the Month

 • Anytime I hear someone in charge say it's time to "re-think" a misguided decision, I automatically assume zero actual thought went into the original decision.• Being a scholarly rabbit must be one of nature's most frustrating circumstances. Even your very best ideas are dismissed as hare-brained.• Nutritionists ought to have a term for the unnecessary fats we foolishly add to our diets when we

Today I mansplain the unheralded virtues of mansplaining

 (718 words)Note: The story you are about to read is mostly true. The names have been changed to protect my sorry ass.It was about ten years ago. I was driving our lily white daughters and some of their little friends to Pittsburgh for a day at the museums.One of their friends was what my father called “an ethnic.” I incarcerate the term in quotes because I’m fairly certain calling anyone “an

January Tweets of the Month!

• That tears come in only one flavor -- salty -- is a design flaw useful only to those who feel a profound sadness over things like pretzels. In the future we'll all be able to select flavors like we do at the movie theater soda dispensers.• By many bottom-line standards -- income, sales, bookings -- I'm what many people would consider a failed writer. They are mistaken. I'm a failing writer. I

The joke Einstein thought was hilarious wasn't

(679words)I’ve said, truthfully, I had nothing to do with raising our kids until they were advanced enough to get my jokes. That means that other than my rather bystander role in their orgasmic conception I was sort of an absent parent until each was about 4 and capable of understanding the construction of your basic knock-knock joke.Like this:Knock KnockWho’s there?Denise.Denise who?Da knees are

Einstein & whatever happened to rooms called "the study"

 (583 words)I’m thoroughly enjoying Dennis Brian’s fine 1997 biography, “Einstein: A Life,” about perhaps the smartest man who ever lived. What I like about this book is it doesn’t devote a lot of pages trying to explain to a moron like me Einstein’s Theory of Relativity which I find incomprehensible.I think involves space, time, gravity and the bending of light.I have my own Theory of Relativity

Checkin' in on New Year's: Was there a Year Zero?

 (620 words)As other revelers were nursing hangovers, making resolutions and game-planning for a new year’s worth of unpredictables, I did what on New Year’s Day I customarily do.I got out my checkbook.I wasn’t feeling philanthropic. I was feeling Gregorian. On each of the 40 checks, beside the half-blank “20   ” in the upper right corner, I wrote the double deuce, the “22” that designates the