https://www.facebook.com/roger.deaton.5
Howdy, I would like to start by thanking you for your patience as I stumble through the Steemit learning curve. Like a lot of you, finding time to blog is difficult, let alone getting familiar with the new. I spend my life entertaining others. Oh yes, I have kept my day job. There I entertain my fellow workers by demonstrating how a person with limited intelligence, talents and looks, can not only keep a job, but actually be successful. From there I mutate into my alter ego, Rockin Roger the better than average drumming musician(oxymoron) that continues to perform weekends at venues ranging from 5 star hotels and Presidential parties to bullet ridden alleyway Gin joints and dancehalls. You have to wonder how we have been able to manage a single marriage of 42 years entertaining that lifestyle. Just about the time you think you've seen it all... My wife has learned to balance taking me at my word on one hand and but never too seriously on the other. What I would like to share with you are the true little stories ; ala Blondie and Dagwood, Ma and Pa Kettle, meet Anima House, how we laugh our way through what may otherwise not seem very laughable. I read in an old Psychology Today magazine that 87% of performing artists have some form of verifiable mental illness. My wife insists she has yet to see any of the other 13%. Oh, she has her quirks as well. Take toilet paper for instance. Why can't we store it in the bathroom?
Christmas' start was a bit rocky. I was just about finished with the morning constitutional when I saw we were out of toilet paper. Drats! I delicately head out doing the open face squat trot to the closet in the hall where my wife insists we store the stuff. In route I trip over the box fan cord which crashes along behind me. Double drats!! I did say something like that. By now the dogs are barking and my wife is awake wondering what is going on. "Never mind go back to sleep!" I open the closet..."You got to be kidding," I yell, "We're out of toilet paper!" Candy, my wife, hollers back, "No we're not. I bought some yesterday; it's still out in the car." Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat and I start into my Yosemite Sam imitation. I'm even walking like him too. "I hates rabbits! So I continue on walking like I have got a pair of six guns and spurs through the house, out to the garage, down the steps, around the obstacles. I peak in the car window. Hallelujah! There she is. I grab the door handle... IT'S LOCKED!!!! No pants, no pockets, no keys, I shook the whole car. That's it! I got to find something before I go any farther. On the workbench I see, steel wool (NO), sandpaper (NO NO), greasy rags and plastic bags. Yup that'll do. I showered with some engine degreaser this morning. Candy, just got up and very lovingly, brought me my first cup of coffee. She looked like an Angel! She says, "You look rough, like a cartoon character, I can't think of his name...
"I hates rabbits!"