Browsing Archives for General Lunacy


Dear Readers,

CDW is struggling… STRUGGLING… to come up with things to say these days.  She has written this blog for almost two years now without flinching once, but suddenly a brick wall has loomed up in front of her and she can’t stop beating her head against it.  All she has for you today and the next day and yes possibly many days after that are her most embarrassing moments.  She is sickened by this, but she has searched both her innards and her outtards  for something… anything less obvious and has come up empty.  She also has absolutely NO IDEA why she is referring to herself in the third person.  Please send help.  Soon.
Embarrassing Story Number One – The Walt Bodine Show
The Country Doctor and I were living in Kansas City just a few blocks from KU Med.  I had at least one baby… maybe two and was cocooned inside of a nest of babies, toddlers, diapers, breast pads, and baby wipes.  I had also become a radical devotee of the radio program called The Walt Bodine Show.
You see, we did not have a television back then.  Neither one of us owned a TV when we got married and since we were such fascinating people and clearly intellectually superior to all the other people in the world, we could not be bothered with getting a TV.  Instead, we listened to the radio…  a lot…
…And wrote stories.  And played stringed instruments on the porch with the forest animals.  And painted murals.  And rescued donkeys.  And collected porridge recipes.  And built creations.  And handcrafted mead.  And went on sunrise hikes to the tops of mountains.  And ambled about the meadow with field bouquets.  And jigged.  And founded a lyrical writing society where the members had to wear filmy white dresses or breeches.  And hosted open mike poetry readings.  And came up with new types of grains to stick inside of multi-grain breads.  And gave our kids unusual names that no one knew how to pronounce or spell.  And collected morning dew.  And yes… it was a very precious time in our lives.
And Walt Bodine was the glue that held it all together.  
Walt Bodine hosted and still hosts a radio program on KCUR, the Kansas City public station.  He interviews visiting authors, wildlife experts, local chefs, parade organizers, colorful characters, political pundits, obscure poets, playwrites, artists, former sitcom actors… stuff like that.  At the time I was listening to The Walt Bodine Show, it seemed like Walt was about a hundred years old and guess what?  He is still hosting  the same show.  
Walt is a very endearing man, his voice and mannerisms are very homey.  You feel like you are listening to a beloved uncle interviewing a famous person… except your uncle doesn’t realize he is talking to a famous person… he thinks he is talking to his neighbor across the back alley… and after a while you also feel like the famous person is your neighbor across the back alley.  That is the magic of Walt Bodine.
Right before we moved away from Kansas City, some moron at KCUR decided that it was time to replace Walt with a new, upbeat, young, hip, happenin’, talk show host and the station attempted to fire Walt Bodine.  
The entire city staged a revolt.
Well… maybe not the entire city… but there were protests in front of the station.  People hoisted signs above their heads and shouted in unison “Don’t be Mean to Walt Bodine!”  You see… it rhymes… and it saved Walt… and he went right back to hosting his show.  For once, the right person triumphed.
Anyway…. after Walt interviewed his guest, he would often open up the show to call-in questions.  One time, after I had been listening to the show for a few months, and really felt that Walt was my dearest friend, I decided to call into the show with a question.  I was kind of nervous and panicky about it, and to give myself a little protection, I decided I would use a fake name.  I decided I would call myself, Melissa.
The subject they were discussing that day had something to do with pregnancy and delivery or something like that…  I can’t remember the details… but I felt there was a viewpoint that was not being expressed and I certainly felt that my opinion would be a startling revelation to Walt and his audience.  So I called in…
Screener – Hello, this the Walt Bodine Show…
Me – Hi!!!!!!!
Screener – What is your name?
Me – Uh… Melissa!!!!
Screener – Okay… Melissa… Where are you calling from?
Me – Uh… Kansas City, Kansas.
Screener – Okay… Walt will introduce you in a few seconds and then you just go ahead and ask your question.
Me – OKAY!!!!!
Walt Bodine – Okay… now we go to Melissa calling from Kansas City Kansas.  Melissa how are you today?
Me – (silent)
Walt Bodine – Melissa… Are you there?  
Me – (silent)
Walt Bodine – Melissa?  Can you hear me Melissa?
Me – (silent)
Walt Bodine – Can she hear me?  Do we have a bad connection?  Melissa?  Is anyone there?
  
Me – Oh!   
Walt Bodine – Melissa?
Me – Walt Bodine???  Hi!!!!  This is RECHELLE!!!
Walt Bodine – Oh…Rechelle??
Me – I MEAN MELISSA!!!!
Walt Bodine – Oh… okay… Melissa…   

Me – Yes… Melissa… that is my name.
Walt Bodine – Okay…. Melissa?  Do you have a question for us today Melissa?
Me – Yes….I… Uh… Oh… Um…
And I went on and on trying to back track… trying to make it all go away… trying to not be such a heaving idiot, but it was too late.  I held onto the slender tendril of hope that no-one I knew had been listening to the show that day.   A few weeks later, I went back to Lawrence to visit my sister and I dropped by the Lawrence Arts Center where I used to work.   
Me – Hi everyone!  
Entire staff of Art Center – Hi Rechelle.
Me – How are you all?
Entire staff of Art Center – Good… we heard you on the radio.
Me – What?
Entire Staff of Art Center – We heard you on the Walt Bodine Show… Melissa  (raucous laughter ensues)
I never called into The Walt Bodine Show again.  
But I still listened everyday.

Show Cats!!

January 19th, 2008

Over Thanksgiving we had a house full of company. The Country Doctor’s large rambling family of eight siblings descended on our new house along with all their spouses, children, and varying political persuasions. We had sleeping bags on top of sleeping bags, on top of sleeping bags. Children were squashed so closely together on the floor that it was difficult to tell where one sleeping child ended and another began. In fact their dreams all bled together into one long nightmare where they were trapped in an endless game of twister with their cousins, while their parents argued over presidential candidates. During their wakeful hours, one of the activities that greatly entertained this large pulsating mass of sweaty childhood was our cats.

Here we have Arod

and the limp shaggy blonde is Cookie.

Of course, I am not giving you their real names. I am much too protective of my cats to post their real names on the internet for all the world to see! Plus, they have too many real names and I can’t really keep track of them all. Jack – my real son and maybe that is his real name and maybe it is not, all I know is that is what we call him around here – but JACK – likes to re-name the cats just about everyday.

ANYWAY – the point of this story is that these cats were very popular over Thanksgiving. They were carried and coddled, and hugged, and snuggled, and placed under blankets, and inside of sleeping bags and on top of teetering pillow piles and then the cats would make a break for it and try to escape to find some peace, only to be searched for with great anxiety until they were found and carried and snuggled and dropped and snatched back up and chased and hugged until they meowed for mercy.

Fortunately they are very mild cats. They are also somewhat striking cats. They were also free cats – given to us by a local couple that has a pickle court! Have you ever played pickle? Very fun game. Anyway – we got these little kittens and they grew and grew and got fuzzier and fuzzier and more and more beautiful – so when my brother-in law (Mr. Panties) saw them, he was so awestruck by their fluffy loveliness, that he dubbed them the “Show Cats”. And they have been our “Show Cats” ever since.

My sister, April loves our “Show Cats” and so does her daughter Bellers so whenever they visit, they always try get me to give them one. At which point I tell April the entire “Show Cats” story and then she says, “Rechelle – You’ve told me that same story a hundred times! “

And I Say, “But it is sooo funny.”

And April says – “Not really – not anymore…”

And then I say – “Show Cats Show Cats Show Cats…”

And then she says – “Actually, I don’t think it was that funny to start with…”

And then I say – “SHOW CATS!!”

And then April says something really, really, super, mean or she imitates my laughter making a horrible screeching noise while puckering her face into a wizened old hag as if I look like that while I am laughing!

And then I say – “It is still funny – because I say so! Show cats! Show Cats! Show Cats!”

The point of this story?… I have SHOW CATS! And they are better than April’s old boring NOT “Show Cats”! The end.

Private Parts or Tats on My Stats

November 16th, 2007

Did I seriously just name this post – “Private Parts” – good grief what the heck is going to show up in my keyword search now!?! Speaking of keyword searches, I have had a few e-mails and comments regarding the ad I placed on Pioneer Woman or “Pie Near Woman” as I like to call her. So I am going to show you all something that no one has EVER seen! A part of myself that should be kept under wraps at all times. Trust me – only the stoutest of souls can face this particular jiggly mass. Cover the eyes of your young’uns. Grab a flashlight and drape a cloth over your head and the computer before you scroll down. I am going to show you something that no eyes other than mine, have ever seen…

My blog stats.

This is the what my stat counter typically looked like on the days prior to placing the ad on Pie Near Woman. She was a pretty girl, properly buttoned up, with a cardigan tossed around her shoulders and a matching handbag, but she didn’t exactly stand out you know what I mean??? She lacked that special spark. The pageant committee was not impressed.
Oct 15-Oct 31.
Avg Pageloads – 321
Avg Unique Visitors – 188
Avg returning visitors – 79

The spikes at 523 and 724 page loads are from the days that “Miz Booshay” put a story and a link from her site to mine. Thanks Donna! As a result of that link – my overall traffic took a jump. And my stat counter unbuttoned one button at the top of her blouse and took the pin out of her bun and let her hair swing down all wild and carefree. Ah…much better.

This is the day before and the first day of – the ad on “Pie Near Woman”.

On this day, my stat counter didn’t just unbutton the top button on her blouse. SHE TOOK HER BLOUSE OFF and ran around in a lacy black bustier the rest of the day!!! Who knew?!?!?

While my stat counter was er uh changing her look, I happened to walk by my computer and I noticed that it was actually sweating! The Internet space around my desk was all shimmery and full of sparkles. When I stuck my hand into this sparkly space it disappeared! I almost called the Pope! I almost called Phillip Pullman! If I wasn’t such a pantywaist, I think I could have stepped right into a different dimension. But I stayed here folks. Besides, I wanted to see what would happen next!

Here is the entire seven days on which the “Pie Near Woman” ad was up, including two days prior to the ad, to establish a norm. The last three days were a doozy with over 1300 page loads a day. Both me and my computer were drenched in sweat and all melty from exhaustion from trying to keep my stat counter from running off with Ray Bob Butterbuns, a local yokel who trades in knives down at the local flea mart. I am not EVEN going to tell you what she was wearing at this point. It was so brief and appalling that some of you would faint dead away… and others of you would want to know where she got it – and I don’t want to contribute to the delinquency of any more stat counters.

I eventually did get her to put on something more appropriate. She threw a huge fit when I said NO! to the rhinestone tiara and the matching spiked heels. Right now she is resting – mildly sedated – in a pair of tight jeans and a tube top. Hey I gotta pick my battles! She is also sporting some new tats and she’s got a gold loop in her belly button! She really thinks she is all that and I don’t know how to settle her down, but I am trying. I swear to God – I’ve got a nice cardigan and a pleated plaid skirt laying out for her, but she refuses to put it on!

Here are my stats from the last day of the ad to Wednesday Nov. 15th.

Avg page loads – 542
Avg unique visitors – 355
Avg returning visitors – 189

So there has been a few changes around here. I’ve got a tats on my stats! Welcome to all the new readers and thanks for stopping by!

If anyone is considering buying an ad on “Pioneer Woman”, I would have to recommend it. I may buy another one here in the near future, but first I have to wrestle the scarlet hair dye away from my stat counter! Wish me luck!

PS – It occurred to me after I got the red hair dye away from my stat counter and the Country Doctor came home and gave her a shot of Haldol “stat”…get it “stat” ha ha ha! Anyway – it occurred to me that many of you may wonder why in the world I would buy an ad on “Pie Near Woman” in the first place. What is wrong with her and who in tarnation does she think she is and what is up with her??? I wish I could fully explain it myself. Perhaps it is I who need the Haldol “stat” hardee hardee har har. All I know is that blogging fits me like a glove. I have never had so much fun in my life. I love to write and I especially love to write absurd, bizarre things about me, me, more me and a spriglet of me. I figure if I can get enough readers to stop by on a somewhat regular basis, maybe I can justify the ridiculous amount of time I spend on this thing, by making a little cashola. I am not just some attention seeking weirdo – okay I am an attention seeking weirdo, but I am an attention seeking weirdo that is having a really really good time on this blog. In fact, according to my conservative, protestant, Western Kansas upbringing, I have officially crossed over into the realms of heathen fun-having. I promise to repent. Right after my stat counter reaches uh…uh…ONE…MILLION. Until then – I got some bloggin’ to do.