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I can't tell them apart until one of them sings
I remember the first time I saw the empty shell of a dry fly or cicada. The exoskeleton clung to the bark of the huge maple in our front yard beside dozens of other brown little bodies in some eerie sci-fi scene that might have creeped me out if I hadn’t been a curious little boy.
Walking across the grass in a crunchy stride, I’d step on hundreds of cicada shells and ponder this plague-like phenomenon that had climbed out of the ground in those West Virginia hills. Their sound was more bizarre than the many molting masks they left behind in this macabre metamorphosis.
I say cicada, Jennifer says secada.
On today’s Big Shooz™, Jennifer reminisces about meeting Jon Secada in Santa Barbara as he came through southern California on his breakout solo tour after the world took notice of his talent as a backup singer for Gloria Estefan.
She and all the other ladies swooned, of course, but frankly I was more interested in the dead bug shells. We discussed the differing and peculiar pronunciations that can drive a wedge between people, especially locals and any outsiders. You say tomayto, I say tuhmahto. The taste, for some, isn’t the same no matter how you slice it.
I say hush and eat your sammich.
Jennifer gasped when she discovered I still don’t have an Oregon driver’s license. Apparently, it’s easier to sneak into this country, illegally, than it is to get a driver’s license in Oregon. It’s enough to make a guy want to move, again, but winter is approaching and I don’t have a car.
From wooden shoes to Jennifer’s continuing threat to visit me in the Pacific Northwest to whether we should call our Big Shooz™ shows podcasts or webcasts, we covered the gamut of gossip and silliness.
She likes the term webcast, but I prefer podcast even though it reminds her of Invasion of the Body Snatchers.
Of course, the really big news (even to me) was when I shed my own mask and confessed to hitting on Jon Secada, during lunch, at a little beach café in Santa Barbara after he appeared on the morning show. At least this explains why I haven’t had a bra in my room for the past fifteen years.
For some reason, coming out of the closet still doesn’t deter Jennifer from trying to set me up with Di. It’s purely a platonic podcast relationship, but maybe Di would be interested in being my beard.
If you, like Jennifer (and who doesn’t like Jennifer), are not familiar with the term beard in the context above, then you may want to read about it. Likewise, to assist you in understanding how to best use the term under appropriate circumstances, I offer a little visual cue, below.
beard
By most standards, George Clooney is probably considered a man’s man and would even turn the eyes of most gay men. I do not know if George is gay, but I sense that, if he is, he has had plenty of bras in his room o’er the past fifteen years.
Beard
This lovely lady looks good wet or dry. Even a gay man would probably admit to this, though I doubt he’d have any fantasies about toweling her off when she gets out of the pool.
beard?
And do we really care if Tom Cruise is or isn’t? It seems that for us non-Hollywood types, to find out for certain is truly Mission Impossible, which may be his greatest role.
Personally, I prefer what’s behind door number two, but hey, whatever rubs you the right way.
The Kat
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