I just purchased a new toothbrush, a bit of an ordeal–believe it or not–for I have a small mouth and large teeth. So, I get to select among child-sized toothbrushes, since the adult ones have all become enormous. I usually end up with something sparkly in a neon color emblazoned with a cartoon character. Several times, in a pinch, I’ve been stuck with a lavender, Barbie one. My present toothbrush has an LED that blinks for as long as I’m supposed to brush. (Didn’t know that at the point of sale–kinda cool to discover its talent!)

Adult toothbrushes used to be sensible and plain with compact heads. Now, one would think that the average adult has a dental arch the size of a Clydesdale horse shoe, judging from the monstrosities on sale. And they’re stiff as suede-shoe brushes. And some of them whirl and reciprocate. Scary.

The next time I buy a toothbrush, I might just get the Philips Sonicare Toothbrush for Kids, expertly reviewed by the SmockLady (and her gang of testers). Click HERE. It doesn’t look too intimidating and apparently works quite well.

But, I’ll miss “dental hygienist” Barbie.

What’s up with U sounds? Local broadcasters are pronouncing Cullman as “COLEman” as in Old King Cole or Coleman Coliseum at UA.

The North Alabama town is “KUHLman.”

I’m also hearing “mole titasking,” “mole tipart-form,” “mole tiplication.”

Could be worse, there’s “tup ritch chere” for temperature.

Mon Dieu!

Broke a violin E string today (checking on my sorely neglected Bulgarian violin).

Had several thoughts: 1) there went $4.75–it’s so nice that cheap violins like expensive strings, and b) the dogs in the neighborhood are in for a treat as new E stretches and I get to “play it in,” and  3.1) I really need to think of something to play by ear other than “Give Me that Old Time Religion” and “Red River Valley.”

“Who publishes the sheet music of winds . . . ? “

Nobody. The wind improvises. Watch Ken Burns’ Jazz.

There’s an article in the latest SU alumni rag about the new, permanent president’s residence, a former trustee’s house atop Shades Mountain with the requisite, glorious view of the Sacred Bubble. Did they have to paint the dump Baptist white during the renovation?

Brings to mind the old sayin’, “There’s a place in hell for people who paint brick!”  :)

Well, it’s all coming out now: Honoluluans stink enough that certain political forces want to legislate who can ride public transportation. Stinky people aren’t welcome.

Oh, please! And let’s define olfactory offense: pleasant smells can be just as offensive as nasty ones. I remember my dear, childhood piano teacher glumly admitting during one lesson (to my great relief) that she had to stop wearing her favorite perfume because it made her students break out in hives, suffer watery eyes, sneeze, etc. (Curiously, when attending college recitals and concerts, I often sat next to a girl named Mandy who wore the same pleasantly lethal concoction–some sort of Giorgio or Chanel No. 5 knockoff?)

It was a nice scent, just not something you wanted to be trapped with for an hour.

Just learned that Zenny, fan nickname for the song “Light On,” just went platinum!

So verklempt with avuncular-like pride!

There’s nothing like the approach of one holiday to have me thinking of another. So, in honor of Labor Day, here’s a Halloween story (that’s Scottish, to boot).

Once, right after the Peanuts Halloween special had run on TV, a bunch of us in a local pipe band were standing around talking, when one of the group, Kathleen, started noticing everybody’s different clan crest badges. (The crest from each clan chief’s coat of arms, encircled by a strap and buckle inscribed with his motto, done-up in “silver” [meaning chrome-plated pewter], is worn as a badge or emblem pinned to the Scottish caps of his, sometimes her, clanspersons.)

Kathleen exclaimed, “How come you guys got a heart with a crown, or a lion holding a sword, or a stag’s head, or a kitty cat, and I GOT A ROCK!” (That being a mountain owned by the MacNeil of Bara, but rendered as a crest badge, it does come across like a pet rock.)

To which the the bearer of the kitty cat, the Pipe Major, flatly responded, “It’s a MOUNTAIN LION, Kathleen!” Then I added, “And it’s not even a flaming rock.” (That would be the MacKenzie crest.)

What I was thinking, but didn’t say, was that the fearsome Mackintosh cat-a-mountain is really more of a dwarf polecat . . . an overgrown, ferile version of Mrs. Slocombe’s pussy!

In the odd, spare moment, I’m doing some Scottish research. It’s gonna take lots of odd, spare moments **sigh**.

I think every British book has title and copyright pages like this (exaggerated, but not much so):

__________________________________________________

THE PANOPLY OF BRITAIN

Hugh Hume Fforbes-Hamilton, Series Editor

THE HIGHLAND CLANS and Lowland Families of SCOTLAND

Being an Account of their Dynastic Origins founded on Henry Sibbald’s Edition of Sir Archibald Wood’s Celebrated Historicum Familia Scoticum as translated from the Original Latin by Mary Jane Smith, Oxford University

by

Sir Iain Edward Philip Arthur George Scrymgoeure of that Ilk, Bart., Ph. D., Q. C., Falkirk Pursuivant of Arms Extraordinary

Foreword by Craig Connolly and Billy Ferguson

Photographs by L. Nimoy

National Caledonian Trust in association with The Royal Scottish Historic Families Commission Press

London & Dublin

__________________________________________________

© 1970 Annette Valois Scrymgoeure

Second Revised Edition, 1983
8th Reprinting, 1997

Expanded and Slightly Corrected, 2005
Lucky Dragon Books, Ltd.
Bruceton Mills, West Virginia

Printed in Hong Kong

Bound in Bulgaria

Dust Jacket Designed by Dicky Battenberg

Genuine Bonded Leather Edition

__________________________________________________

I shutter to think of references and bibliography. My old, high-school MLA Handbook ain’t worthy!

. . . ( a locally bottled gingerale) COMES IN DIET. There’s that sort of demand? Amazing.

Also learned at the grocery store: U2 is now considered Muzak, along with Cher. All the Muzak and “easy listening” radio in my youth was more sedate stuff; in fact, the local dentists would pre-anesthetize people by playing it in the waiting room. Barely needed novacaine.

Learning all the time . . .