Friday, February 17, 2006

Migraines and Milestones

Well, things are heating up at work. The signs are all around me, like harbingers of a hurricane. The barometer is dropping, winds are picking up, and dark clouds are gathering overhead. More phone calls, more insistent deadlines. It’s like I’m expected to work for my pay, for crying out loud. So, it seems, I will not be such a frequent poster as I have been of late. But I shall make my presence known, by God. Yes, by God, I will.

Everybody knows about the Neil Entwistle saga, the alleged murderer of his wife, Rachel, and baby daughter, Lillian. Apparently it was supposed to be a murder-suicide, but the murderer didn’t quite complete the job, so now the Boston area is assaulted with the biggest local criminal justice story since the flap over the infamous au pair Louise Woodward, the young woman accused of fatally shaking a baby. Comparisons are drawn between the two incidents mainly for their notoriety and the fact that they both involve British nationals. But I can’t help thinking of Charles Stuart, the local man who shot his pregnant wife, Carol, and then tried to blame her murder on a fictitious car-jacker 17 years ago. Both his and Entwistle’s acts were cold-blooded and evil beyond belief. But here’s the difference: Charles Stuart at least had the decency to kill himself and thus spare the families some measure of pain and the state the expense of prosecuting him and then housing him for life. So here’s hoping Entwistle’s attorney gets a change of venue to Michigan, where Entwistle can team up with Dr. Jack Kevorkian as cellmates. Because let’s face it: that guy’s as guilty as OJ.

Well, tomorrow’s the big day: I turn 50. Yep, half a century. You know, I can remember when my father turned 50 and the jokes I made about him. Little did I consider that someday I, too, would join the ranks of the aged and withered. I’m ashamed to say it, but I still haven’t bought my rocking chair — I don’t know what the hell I’m going to sit on tomorrow when I tune in to Matlock and Murder She Wrote. And where can you get a decent shawl nowadays? The GAP doesn’t sell them. Anyone know? I’m kind of a junior senior citizen about this. I need someone to take me by the hand and show me the ropes.

14 Comments:

Blogger Flash said...

Happiest of Birthdays to you.

Remember, your only as old as you think you are.

1:44 PM  
Blogger LL said...

You can't buy shawls, you have to knit them. Ask PinTA, she'll knit one for you...

2:44 PM  
Blogger Scott said...

Aww, that's so cute. I'll have to bring you a cup to put your teeth in next time we meet. 50 is quite the landmark age. Are you going through any anxiety because of it, similar to the mid-life crisis? You only have nine years on me, so I'm basically your Padawan here.

Happy Birthday to you young fella.

5:51 PM  
Blogger mr. schprock said...

"Remember, you're only as old as you think you are."

Okay, I think I'm 50.

Wait a minute — is that how it's supposed to work? Cause I don't feel any better.


"You can't buy shawls, you have to knit them. Ask PinTA, she'll knit one for you..."

I ask her to knit one for "this friend of mine." If you say that, they'll never think it's for you.


"Aww, that's so cute. I'll have to bring you a cup to put your teeth in next time we meet."

You watch it, sonny, or I'll give you the gumming of your life.

Actually, I have to say you look much younger than 41, Scott. What's your secret? Do you sleep in a vat of Oil of Olay at night?

7:56 PM  
Blogger boo said...

*takes your hand, sings softly*

happy birthday to u
happy birthday to u
happy birthday to sch-pr-ock
happy birthday to u

BIG sloppy kisses & a bear-hug X0X0

10:22 PM  
Blogger mr. schprock said...

Thanks, Boo! I needed that.

9:13 AM  
Blogger Claire said...

Remeber - 50's the new 40! Whatever that means!

Seriously, though - happy birthday!

9:04 PM  
Blogger Scott said...

I appreciate that Mr. Schprock. If I had to guess, I would say it's one part genetics, and another part low stress, or denigrating stress to an irritant, a necessary part of life. My wife is even starting to let some of life roll off her back, but we still have a ways to go.

4:16 PM  
Blogger trinamick said...

It's hard for me to understand how someone can shoot their baby in the stomach and leave it to die. He needs needlenose pliers taken to his nether regions, cuz that ain't a man.

If you'd like, I'll be happy to send you some Depends in the mail.

7:50 AM  
Blogger Kathleen said...

What color shawl would you like? I'll knit one for you.

And I think Dr. Jack is in desperate need of his own services these days. Perhaps you'd be better off sending him to the prison where Jeffrey Dahmer lasted a very short period of time.

7:48 AM  
Blogger Kathleen said...

And my thought always is "If you're unhappy, there's no reason to take anybody else with you. Just off yourself and people will genuinely mourn your passing."

7:48 AM  
Blogger mr. schprock said...

"What color shawl would you like? I'll knit one for you."

Plaid, with sparklies.

"If you're unhappy, there's no reason to take anybody else with you. Just off yourself and people will genuinely mourn your passing."

I think some people have the attitude of: "If I can't have you, then no one can have you."

8:24 AM  
Blogger mr. schprock said...

"If you'd like, I'll be happy to send you some Depends in the mail."

Oh yeah! You're talking about the ones with the new, more absorbent design, right? Would I ever!

8:30 AM  
Blogger Michele said...

Happy BELATED Birthday, mr. schprock! It figures John wouldn't say anything about it....;)

10:05 AM  

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