Monday, September 20, 2010

The grapes of wrath...

How many times do you think of your own death?

Right before you jump, parachuted, out of a plane?

Right before you rush into a burning building?

Right before you eat my mother's cooking?


Of course if you do any of that kind of stuff, you probably think of the death of you more often than the average person.

I on the other hand, am one that doesn't do risky.

I mean I do text and eat a taco (simultaneously) while driving.

But doesn't everyone?

(Mom...put down the phone, I'M STILL KIDDING).

And even though I really try to avoid risky, I'm somewhat preoccupied with thoughts of my own death... (and ways to prevent it).
While pondering my demise I've dreamt up many romantic and exciting endings.

Laying in a beautiful canopy bed, draped in satin and lace curtains surrounded by my huge family and about 1000 of my closest and dearest friends.

A classy exit....

Or, I will be 106 and Daddio 107 and we will go to sleep one night and that will be it.

Just like in the movie "The Notebook".

(Man, I love that movie)

I'd like to think that I'm totally normal in pondering my own death.

But something tells me I'm not.

Lately, in dealing with my own personal war against my own personal terror(ism), and borrowing the National Homeland Security Advisory System I've placed myself at the Warning Level Orange....

Which is HIGH.

The most recent enemy....

an ordinary purple grape.

I've become addicted,

and eat them by the hands full,

every day.

One recently purchased bag had bunches of grapes with really tough skins.

And eating them I became conscious of the possibility (probability...remember the Orange level) that I could choke on one.

Cause one is all it would take...right?

One to block my windpipe.

Then I wondered... could the Heimlich maneuver dislodge a determined grape?

Then I thought about where I might be and who would perform the heroic deed...?

Then I remembered that I heard once that people throw up when they get the Heimlich.

So not only would I suffer the indignity of having the maneuver done in order to save my life....I'd more than likely puke on the table or the floor.

Puke in front of people.

I'm still eating grapes.

But I chew each one really well.

And I'd advise you to do the same.

(Disclaimer #1: I really am kidding about my mom's cooking, she makes a wicked New England boiled dinner, awesome Spanish Pork Chops, and the best Chocolate Malt Milkshakes the world has ever known, to name a few. Disclaimer #2: I'm not making fun of choking deaths...I've actually very fearful of one.)


  1. I hope to die at about 90 years of age in a firey car crash. Instantly, if possible. Thank you.

  2. Dear PPB: I am still chuckling at this blog...You are so funny and your mind is still a "steel trap" Your brother used to say that after some crazy, funny,scary comment from you !!!! Oh by the way I am really a good cook......LOL (lots of love) your mom


Some bloggers write "gimme me some love".... as far as I'm concerned, I'd love some love, but I'd even take some hate, some expressions of your disgust, your outrage, mild irritation, sheer joy...whatever, I can take it, honestly I can. Just please (please) leave a comment or two and let me know what you think. Merci.