I'm sure that's what some folks told their better halves these evening when they got home. Little did they know how deceiving appearances can be. Let us retrace the day.
To begin with, yesterday was a marathon work session. I hit the office network at about 9:30 a.m. and finally signed off about 8PM. It's getting where I can't get anything done at work anymore, so to catch up I have to work at home where the phones and questions can't find me. I have serious bitching building up on the subject of garbage disguised as data that has been hitting my desk lately. But that's not today's topic.
I had made a sizable dent in the pile of work, so I decided that I would be able to take the morning and attend a funeral and get some personal errands run before re-attaching myself to the pc umbilical cord in the afternoon.
The funeral was for a man I worked with many years ago. It was a show of respect that I felt I should make. I wasn't particularly close to him, but he was always nice to me in my early days at the law firm and I have pleasant memories of him. The service was very nice. I debated whether to go to the graveside services but finally decided against it since the only other persons I knew at the funeral were the funeral director and a co-worker who had to get back to the office.
So I made a fast trip home, changed to jeans, and headed out to get my car detailed and inspected. Once I put my vehicle into the hands of the detailers, I found the waiting room too crowded for my taste and went outside where I latched onto a big cedar rocker on their front porch.
Best hour I've spent anywhere in quite some time. The detailing took an hour, during which I sat and rocked and enjoyed the gorgeous day. I had my knitting with me and my DJ Ditty and I was thoroughly enjoying myself. I had downloaded the soundtrack to "Swing" and was knitting right along and rocking to the rhythm of swing music.
And then it happened. I forgot that I had downloaded some Bill Cosby, Bill Engvall and Jeff Foxworthy tracks. First up was Bill Cosby, and while I thoroughly enjoyed the story, I was well able to restrain myself and merely smile mysteriously.
But that Bill Engvall. Lord, have mercy. He started off with a story about taking his wife deer hunting and proceeded to observations on the stupidity that surrounds us. The next thing I knew, my eyes were running, my shoulders were shaking, I was sniffling and making weird mewling sounds. It didn't occur to me for awhile that to the folks who weren't privy to the insane humor that was reeling off the Ditty, I probably looked like I was convulsed with sorrow. The detail guys working just up the way must have thought I was really moved by the good work they were doing.
Nothing like a good laugh and a pretty day to perk you right up. I decided to postpone work for another hour and go for a drive in the country. I visited a couple of cemeteries and took the back way from Red Rock to Cedar Creek before heading back to the Ford shop for my inspection.
It was a day of many moods. From the sobriety of a funeral to the hysteria of standup comedy to the peace of the country. Sometimes you just have to break out of the routine.
Rest in peace, Mr. Hamilton.