Pete's News


Howdy folks! This here's ol' Pete and Rosebud comin' at you again!

It seems like Thanksgivin' was a week late gettin' here, but it's finally at the door. And Christmas is right behind it tryin' to sneak in when you ain't lookin'. And my mule Rosebud is all in a tizzy about it. Says she don't know what she's gonna do, that she ain't got time to do everthing that's got to be done before Christmas. I told her not to work herself up, that it'll all work out somehow. She said I just didn't know what she had to do around here and wanted to know if I thought it all got done just by snappin' your fangers. No, she said, that ain't how it happens, not by a long shot. Somebody's got to get serious-that's the word she used-somebody's got to get serious about gettin' everthing ready for Christmas.

That was my sign to shut up and get outta there. Rosebud's got these signals that tell me when it's time to be quiet. And I 'spect it ain't just her. I'm thinkin' that all wimmin is purty much like that. And sometimes it ain't so much what they say as it is how they say it. Look out when they get that one certain kind of singsong rhythm goin'. "Well, somebody's got to get serious about gettin' everthing done around here." That's it. When you hear that, you know it's time to go.

It kinda puts me in mind of one of them TV shows. There's this bum-disposal guy hunkered down over a bum that's fixin' to 'splode, y'see. If he don't get it took apart in like sixty seconts, it's gonna blow him and half of New York City up. He's settin' there with these little pointy-nose ware-pliers, pokin' at these different colored wires, scratchin' his nose and piddlin' around like he's got a week to get it done. All of a sudden, it starts makin' a beep-beep-beepin' noise. Then it gets faster and faster and turns into one big long be-be-be-bee-beee-eeeeeee. And you know it's way past time to get outta there. That thing's gonna blow us all sky high.

That's the same kind of signal you're gonna get from the little woman. Or, in my case, the little mule. Well, the big mule. Mules in general, and Rosebud in partic'lar, has got nasty tempers. But like I say, Rosebud's temper has got a pattern it follows. It ain't no beep-beepin' noise, but you soon learn what it is and when it's time to take off. I've took the time to study up on it and I've learned that even when there's a temper blowup, there's a split secont there where you can still duck outta the way. Well, not always, but most times. Havin' seen her temper flare-ups more than a few times, I've purty much learned how to get down outta the way so the main part of the blast goes over my head. And, seein' as how knowin' this might save some other feller from gettin' his head skinned up, I feel like it's my bounden duty to share it here.

The key to it can be summed up by these three little words: Blame somethin' else. You're lookin' for somethin' that'll draw the temper away from you and onto it. That's your lightenin' rod. Lightenin' won't hurt a lightenin' rod so you need to find somethin' that the temper fit won't hurt either. Like, take this mornin' when Rosebud was all in a dither about runnin' out of time. I blamed it all on a feller on the TV. Yeah, he was talkin' about people runnin' outta time to get stuff done and I said, "Did you hear what he just said?" Which she didn't, of course. "Dad-gum him, it's his fault!"

See, it's okay if she gets mad at some feller on the TV. She can yell at him 'til she gets too horse to yell and it won't do no harm. It ain't like he's a real human bean. Everthing is pertend on TV so it's okay to use 'em as a lightenin' rod. Remember, they ain't real. But even more important, they ain't you. You've still got yellin' and hollerin' goin' on, but you ain't the one gettin' yelled and hollered at. And, believe me, that makes a world of difference. I know what I'm talkin' about here.

Oh, I ain't dumb enough to think I'm always gonna get away without a scratch. With all the yellin' and hollerin' goin' on, I'm bound to catch a little of it but I ain't gonna get the full blast. I ain't gonna be on the receivin' end of no flyin' skillets. I prob'ly ain't. Not if I've done it right.

So you fellers remember this. When the little woman's voice starts risin' and fallin' in that certain singsong way, it's time to duck and run. If that fails, if you can't get away, try and blame it on somethin' that nobody ain't got no control over. Blame it on the weather. Blame somebody on the TV. Blame President Obama. Lord knows he ort to be used to it by now. People blame about everthing else on him. But you've got to practice this, my friends. That's what it takes. And dependin' on how good you are at workin' the blame game, it can make the difference between keepin' your hair or gettin' it yanked out.

Oh, by the way, I shore hope y'all have a nice Thanksgivin'.

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