"Thar She Blows!"

By Jody Worsham

All rights reserved for WD40

When the shipboard intercom blares out "Whales on the starboard bow," I don't want everyone on the cruise ship turning to look at me.  We are taking a cruise in four months for our 50th wedding anniversary and I must admit (mirrors don't lie so I have to admit it) I have known a few cheeseburgers, known as in the Biblical sense.

So I once again dusted off the "Sweating to the Oldies" DVD and vowed I would not miss a day until my ship comes in and we leave on it.  You would think my family would be supportive since, sans 50 pounds, I would have more energy to take care of them.  Not so.

The very first day of “Sweating to the Oldies”, right in the middle of "Peggy Sue", the eight-year-old walks into the den and quips "I don't even know how to respond to this."  The next day at the beginning of "Am not No Mountain High Enough" as I was groaning and attempting to ratchet my left leg out straight with the floor, Dr. Hubby rushes in to ask if I had fallen. Ok, you might count that as supportive, but I think it was concern for the tiled floor.

I have sweated to the oldies for seven days now. The only difference that I have noticed is that I have a few thousand more muscles than I remember having in my twenties and they are all telling me exactly where they are and to what major body part they are connected to.  Also the beat to "Wipe Out" seems to be accentuated by the crunching of shoulder bone against shoulder bone.  The knee bones get into the act about the middle of "He's a Rebel" which I have renamed "He's a Rebel and My Whole Body Knows It".

Since I refuse to wear a “granny” bathing suite with a skirt, I will have to keep sweating to the old and moldies. 

Whale sightings are going to be likely on this upcoming cruise.  I just don’t want to be one of them.

1-800-Sue-the-Hog

By Jody Worsham

All rights reserved for accurate Weather app

Do your spring tomatoes now look like wilted stalks of celery?

Does your winter wardrobe have hangar burns from going in and out of the storage closet several times a week?

Do your children march off to school clad in shorts, sandals, t-shirts, wool gloves, and parkas?

Does your calendar say Spring but the thermometer says Winter?

Is your electric meter spinning out of control with both the air conditioner and the electric heater running on the same day and often at the same time?

Have you suffered emotional stress trying to decide whether it is time to uncover the swimming pool or enroll your children in ice hockey?

Did your yearly “Spring Garage Sale” include your long-johns on the “everything’s a dollar table,” leaving you stranded and shivering the next day?

The Groundhog proclaimed to the world, and Facebook, that we would have an early spring.  Millions of closets were then stripped of winter shoes and clothing that would be outgrown by the next winter and donated to local thrift stores, only to be re-purchased  by the original donors the next day.  The entire Southland whose definition of winter is a couple of days below freezing, has been tricked into  forsaking Snicker bars, Mocha Frappes, cheesecake, and dusting off “Sweating to the Oldies” prematurely in anticipation of an early Spring and the new swim suite line.  Where there should be tan lines, too many are suffering from frost lines.     

If you or a loved one or two or three have suffered from this misrepresentation of spring’s arrival perpetrated and instigated by an incompetent groundhog, then join this class action suit against the dumb Groudhog.

Call 1-800-Sue-the-Hog. A member of the law offices of Mason, Dixon, and Southern will handle your claim.  Southerners will be given preferential treatment, as it was a Yankee hog causing the problem.