Maine Reality TV --- The humble Farmer's TV show on YouTube.

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Rants May 21, 2017

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1. I awoke to a world in turmoil this morning. The sun was shining and I realized that if I didn't get out quickly and provide some shade for the tomato plants Jay Cook brought me they would die from the shock.

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2. Here's your humble farmer question for the week. What was the name of the mule with the dry throat? This is not a trick question. Anyone who is at least 60 or 70 years of age knows the name of that mule because over a period of many years they heard his name --- and of his parched affliction --- again and again. I’m thf at Gmail dot com. What was the name of the mule with the dry throat?

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3. Long time radio friend Ed sent me a recipe that involved rhubarb. In the humble opinion of this old man, Ed sent the modern equivalent of stone soup, and should you leave the rhubarb out of the recipe, because of the 15 or 20 other things that are to be added, you would taste no noticeable difference in the end product. You are putting us on, aren't you Ed? This recipe is even more insulting to the taste buds than adding strawberries does to a good rhubarb pie.

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4. Long time radio friend Peggy Gannon says: " I don't know what he eats when they go abroad!" She is, of course, talking about me. I don’t know what HE eats… I can remember sitting with Marsha outside on the steps of some place in Stockholm, eating a pizza, because the cigarette smoke inside made the dining room intolerable. To be sure, that was long ago and far away. While on the road in Europe or Africa I bought an entire roast chicken and ate that. It is pretty hard to mess up a roast chicken. When we lived in an apartment in Fuengirola for a week or 10 days (a town occupied by 25,000 Swedes in the winter and at one time the Great and Powerful Oma from Amsterdam), we'd get a roast chicken. I had hoped to be able to practice my Spanish there, but ended up speaking Swedish to the chicken man and others. In Holland or Sweden, we naturally eat at the homes of friends or relatives so there is no problem there. Times have changed since 1960 when my aunts would take a piece of meat and cook it until its molecules approximated those of a diamond. Smörgås is like Subway in that you can pick and choose for yourself. Out of 15 or 20 offerings there will be some kind of cheese or bread that is very appealing. In the US while on speaking trips, I used to get a subway sandwich made to my specifications. Actually, I'd get two and eat them for breakfast, dinner and supper. While on three-day road trips in the car with Marsha, she carries enough food and liquids to feed the cast of Mama Mia and prepares tasty exotic meals for her loving, admiring and appreciative husband. He eats them at 70 miles per hour and cleans the crumbs from his person and the seats at pit stops. Everyone's taste buds differ. Everyone's taste in art or furniture or automobiles differs. Some people must have taste buds that have been shot up with Novocain and they are fortunate because they can eat anything. Some of us who are unfortunate enough to have taste buds capable of discrimination, find that most of the food in this unkind world tastes bad. If I could take my taste buds out and beat the life out of them with a stick, how happy I would be. I can't imagine what a joy it would be to have numb or indifferent taste buds that could tolerate the food of the Thai, Chinese, Mexican, McDonald's or English. And a stomach that could back it up with toleration.

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5. Every time an old man dies, his heirs look in his house and his barn, seeking treasures. This is what Marsha Skoglund's granddaughter Madelyn will find. It is a 1974 240 D Mercedes with around 152,000 miles on it. It goes 95 miles an hour without a sweat so I hope she is never in a hurry to get somewhere the first day she drives it. A rich man leases or buys a new car every other year. A poor man buys a Mercedes and keeps it for the rest of his life. I bought this car when I was 38 years old. I'd already had my 1919 Model T for 23 years. And that's in the barn waiting to be discovered by my delighted heirs, too. My wife’s daughter, Tamar, gets bypassed. The grandchildren get it all. But perhaps Madelyn will let her mother drive her 1974 Mercedes when her mother’s newer car is in the shop.

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6. Marsha Skoglund's new bathroom is finally finished. One day I went to Lowe's and bought linoleum carpet for it. 12 feet by six feet. Marsha picked it out. I know nothing of colors. Except that you do not want blue rugs. Because most of the dirt in the world is white. I have to vacuum her TV room with the blue rug several times a day because otherwise it is covered with white specks. Paul, the helper at the store, rolled 6 feet of linoleum off the roll. It comes 12 feet wide. I knew that 4 feet or so would hang out the end of the body of the truck. And the roll was pretty big. 6 or 8 inches in diameter. But Paul spread it out on the floor and rolled it up 6 feet long rather than 12 feet long, and when I left the store I had a tidy little bundle about 4 inches in diameter about 6 feet long. That was a classic case of functional fixedness. It would never have occurred to me to lay the thing out flat and roll it up so that it was six feet long. And he wrapped it up with plastic so it was tidy and tight. I was deeply impressed. There is a Dutch expression for this that I like. I typed in the English but didn't get the Dutch I expected. Was zeer onder de indruk. I don't think that's the one I see. I could never seem to figure what we'd need for parts so I went to the store about three times every day. I figure the job and write it out, and there is still one more elbow or rare fitting that I need when we actually get to doing it. For years I collected copper fittings. I have all kinds of pipe and copper fittings of all kinds. I boasted about buying $150 worth for a dollar last winter. And now we don't use copper fittings anymore. We're putting in pex pipe. I already have the crimper as I bought one when I put in the solar radiant heat. So the project is finally finished. This can happen when you have great moral support..

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7. The other night, in my capacity as rhubarb seller, I went to a meeting of St. George business people in the town office. There must have been 30 people there. One introduced herself as the granddaughter of Parker Jackson, one of my favorite second cousins. I have a picture of her great great great grandparents here on my shelf in my office. Good friends and neighbors were running the meeting. After the introduction, we were asked to stand and identify ourselves. By the time I got my turn, I had no choice but to say, "I'm Robert Skoglund and I'm sorry to say that it would be pointless for me to remain at this meeting. Please forgive me for leaving, but I can't hear what is being said." And I left. At the door my friend at the desk said something about my getting hearing aids. They hide themselves in my ears and you have to look sharp to see them. I said that I was wearing two new ones. I can't live without my hearing aids, but they can only do so much. I know nothing about the science, but suspect that mine boost the higher frequencies because I can't vacuum while wearing them as it inflicts pain. I'm sure that hearing aid technology will continue to advance in countries that care about the health needs of people and that the technology will get passed along down to us in the United States. I can't do TV unless there are captions. I watch Are You Being Served with no captions, but can only catch a word here and there. The frustrating thing about not being able to hear properly is being able to hear everything except usually the one or two words in the sentence that give the sentence meaning. I say to Marsha, "Verb." Which means I didn't hear the verb. Or "Noun." So she only has to repeat one word and not the entire sentence. Ministers are notorious for dropping the volume on the last word in a funny story. Everyone laughs but me. And as a professional courtesy I always mention it to them after the service, hoping they will remember that the disabled sheep in the flock also require nourishment. Is there anything worse than not being able to hear? Yes. Being married to someone who is unable to hear.

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8. Wendy writes: Missed you on Wednesday. How's the rhubarb situation today? We'd like to get several bunches for a BBQ tomorrow. Hope it will work out, Wendy. I reply to Wendy: I was probably at the store if you came at noon. I thought there was some out there. Do remember that I am deaf and you have to make noise if I'm to know you're here. There were two bunches out there this morning. My mirror on the garage needs to be adjusted because I can't see the rhubarb on the stand with my office mirror today. Thank you for trying. You could go in the garden and pull what you wanted, too, if no one is here. People in need of rhubarb can be expected to go to extremes.

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9. Tell me if your life is anything like mine. One morning I got an inquiry on a rental property. I replied with alacrity. I dialed the number. The phone rang. It was picked up on the other end, and, as I was about to speak, someone upstairs flushed a toilet and the party on the other end of my line were greeted by the sounds of sewage rushing through a pipe about six feet above my head here in my cellar office. Do things like that ever happen to you?

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10. I once asked a chemistry professor – Professor Anderson it was, I asked Professor Anderson what he did. And he said, “I’m an expert at seeing people’s eyes glaze over.

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