Attend To The Details [on saturday morning smack-dab.]

Don’t let this cartoon fool you. In another life, she would have made a crack detective. Or a masterful research scientist. Or a lawyer (god forbid!). Her attention to detail sometimes frightens me. Kerri loves to do research. For instance, when we are going to take a trip, she delights in investigating the available airbnb options. She scrutinizes each property down to the pots in the kitchen.

For a guy with his head firmly lodged in the clouds, it’s an excruciating process to witness. It is not in my fiber to consider minutiae. True confession: I generally hide until the the vast options are narrowed down to the top three. My head explodes if there are too many considerations and since I appreciate having a head, I’ve learned to guard my head-explosion-threshold. Three.

Besides. She has great taste. And, she likes to hang out with me! Those are the only details I need to know.

read Kerri’s blogpost on this SATURDAY MORNING SMACK-DAB.

smack-dab. © 2022 kerrianddavid.com

Let The Chips Fall [on saturday morning smack-dab.]

If I left Kerri to her own devices, we’d have a kennel full of once-stray-dogs, a menagerie of rescued kitties, birds in rehab, chipmunks recuperating in the upstairs bedroom and a host of other critters who crossed our path on their day of distress.

It’s not that I am heartless. I have a heart. My capacity to stand upright is proof-positive that it works. No, the real impediment to my save-the-animal-kingdom-resistance is practicality: we have a tiny backyard and it’s my job to scoop the poop. I can barely keep up with Dogga.

I’d love a St. Francis existence, birds alight on my shoulders and raccoons following at my feet. The realities of poop always pops my fantasy. “Let them run wild,” I insist. “Let nature take its proper course!”

She looks at me with those pleading, doe eyes.

“Let the chips fall where they will,” I say with conviction, “just not in our backyard.”

read Kerri’s blogpost about ANIMAL RESCUE

smack-dab. © 2021-2 kerrianddavid.com

Deflect And Dine [on saturday morning smack-dab.]

It’s true. Never go food shopping when you are hungry. It’s also true – for us – after stocking up the pantry, the last thing we want to do is cook. “How about Thai?” she asks.

“My thought, exactly,” I chirp. It’s a ritual.

We let our supplies dwindle to almost nothing before a resupply. It’s become a game: what can we make with what’s left in the fridge and on the shelves? I’m happy to report that some of our favorite dinner-discoveries have come from this game. Enjoying the dinner-surprise-game also serves as a signal: tomorrow is resupply day.

Of course, sometimes, after the signal, when resupply day arrives in all its glory, we don’t feel like doing a massive shop. “How about Thai?” I ask.

“My thought exactly,” she chirps.

read Kerri’s blog post about NOT COOKING

smack-dab. © 2022 kerrianddavid.com

Delay and Seem! [on saturday morning smack-dab.]

I’m one of those people who doesn’t hear lyrics. When I sing in the car or the shower it is generally gibberish or a rude approximation. Except, when I’m singing along with Kerri. I’ve learned that, with a nanosecond delay, I can sing what she sings and seem like I know the lyrics.

I know there’s trouble when she asks me – me, the man who has the ears of a goat, the man who knows no lyrics, “What does that lyric mean, anyway?” I quickly tap my inner Philistine and respond, “What does any lyric mean?” Artists! Puh! They can’t be trusted. They just make stuff up! What’s the use of asking about meaning when an artist is involved! I am one! I should know!

“Google it.” she says. I married a consummate researcher. Were she not a musician, she’d have been a crack private eye. A world-class investigator. It’s impossible for me to get away with anything! No lyrics cover-up for me!

And then, sweet-Google-relief. We’re both singing gibberish. Something made-up. “Wait!” she exclaims, “You mean I’ve been singing that wrong all my life? Didn’t you think you were singing the right lyric, too?”

I smile. “Yes.” I nod emphatically. “I’ve been singing it wrong my whole life, too!” A strange path to an obvious truth.

The next song begins. I lean in, sounding good with a nanosecond delay.

read Kerri’s blog post about LYRICS

smack-dab. © 2022 kerrianddavid.com

Bargain With Bacon [on saturday morning smack-dab.]

Kerri is the true fan of bacon in our house. If I’ve pinched her last nerve, if she’s having a hard day, bacon for breakfast will always turn the tide. All of this is to say, this cartoon is less about bacon than it is about bargaining.

Have you ever made a deal with the universe? If this, then that? I don’t know about you, but I am notoriously bad at keeping my end of the universe-bargains. There’s always another piece of flourless chocolate cake. That whiff of bacon is sure to invoke another bargain-on-top-of-the-last-bacon-bargain.

I suspect the universe smiles when we bargain. Silly humans, tossing up imagined obstacles in the name of good behavior. And, you know what they say, every obstacle is an opportunity!

Bon appetit bacon mi amore!

read Kerri’s blog post about BACON!

smack-dab. © 2022 kerrianddavid.com

Snore and Deny [on saturday morning smack-dab.]

Although we may have led you to believe otherwise, these characters are fictitious. Especially the man. He’s a product of imagination and has no bearing on reality. Any resemblance is purely coincidental and, since I never snore, there’s no chance of coincidental resemblance. None. Nope.

Now, if the woman in the cartoon snored, well…

read Kerri’s blog post about CHAINSAWS

smack-dab. © 2021-2 kerrianddavid.com

Run! [on saturday morning smack-dab.]

Our code phrase for product/service-discontent is, “Write a letter!” (It’s necessary, when speaking the phrase, to use a thick Long Island accent, “Write-ah-lettah!”). Beaky taught Kerri to express her discontent when a service, product or experience is substandard. And, Beaky taught Kerri this lesson in a thick Long Island accent. So. There you go!

I can see it coming. I can see it in her eyes. The first time I saw my darling dainty duck turn into Nurse Ratchet was at a hotel. I was terrified at the transformation and ran across the lobby. I feared for the person receiving the complaint. It’s become my standard practice: run! Put vast distance between me and the expression of discontent with undertones of Long Island. Pretend to be someone else. If only we’d leave and, later, write-ah-lettah!

The most horrifying cartoon panel I have ever drawn is the last panel in this strip. She grabs his arm. There’s no escape. Oh dear…

read Kerri’s blogpost on this saturday morning smack-dab.

smack-dab. © 2021-2 kerrianddavid.com

Dress In Layers [on saturday morning smack-dab.]

I know to dress in layers. If we are going to take a drive in these cold months, or go to the store, the windows will go down. The windows will go up. Hot. Cold. Menopause, I’ve learned, is a whack-a-mole of temperature fluctuation.

I am a man – and a slow-study – but I know when I am on thin ice and writing about menopause is very thin ice. There is only one thing I will add to my dress-in-layers comment: when the heat hits her brain I have to remind her that they will punch me, not her. And, as a chivalrous guy (stop smirking), it’s my obligation and duty to stand between her and the biker-dude that she’s just called a “sissy.” I’m not much of an obstacle.

But mostly, that biker-dude wouldn’t stand a chance. She’d blow through me like a hot tornado. Windows up. Windows down.

read Kerri’s blog post about MENOPAUSE

smack-dab. © 2021-2 kerrianddavid.com

Get Up! [on saturday morning smack-dab.]

When I was young and resilient, I enjoyed doing prat falls. I walked into walls on purpose. It was good for a laugh. Suddenly falling out of my clogs was a minor-show-stopper. It’s the element of surprise. Laughter loves the unexpected.

These days (how’s that for an old guy phrase!) I am less likely to spontaneously fall down unless, of course, it’s unintentional. Now, when I fall, I’m the one who is surprised. The good news in my reversal of fortune is that I can now take full advantage of the getting-up-process. My audience is no longer wowed by my prat fall but can be thoroughly entertained by my authentic struggles to stand. It’s not pretty so it’s filled with opportunities for fun.

“Age and stage” as 20 says. Age and stage.

read Kerri’s blog post about FALLING DOWN

smack-dab. © 2021-2 kerrianddavid.com

Deny and Arrive [on saturday morning smack-dab.]

Kerri often has a difficult time sleeping which means that I, too, have a difficult time sleeping. Left to my own devices, I am a champion sleeper.

I don’t mind, though. Some of our best conversations happen in the dead of night. There’s nothing like a sleepless wife and a midnight snack to bring up the real stuff. I delight when, in the quiet of a slumbering world, we talk of dreams and disappointments, hopes and heartaches. Nothing is solved. Everything is revealed. The gift of the night is to clear the clutter.

I confess that I sometimes meet her, “Are you up?” with an intentional show of snoring or a delayed response, staged mumbling or, “What, huh…” There is a necessary transition zone from champion sleeper through denial to the arrive at the acceptance that sleepless for one is sleepless for both.

And, then, the great conversations begin.

read Kerri’s blog post on saturday morning smack-dab.

smack-dab. © 2022 kerrianddavid.com