The thing about “A Prarie Home Companion” is that it comes on on Saturday night, and the opening strains are merely a reminder that all of my hopes and expectations for the weekend have not yet come to pass nor are they likely to materialize before the weekend ends. Because it’s Saturday night and the grocery shopping still has not happened and the grass should be mowed and the checkbook is not going to balance itself nor will the toilets suddenly refresh themselves.
And all I did all day was watch “Fat Albert” on Netflix. Or that’s what happens all too often on a Saturday. This Saturday I did manage to get out and mow the grass pretty early. Then there was the distribution of the compost into the garden and planting peppers, squash, and eggplant. Also too, I got the hoses cut and fixed up for the rain barrel, so you know I’ve been all handy and shit. But that’s not what made me feel somewhat better when Garrison started that lame ass song.
My Sweet Lady had done the grocery shopping, it’s true. The big thing, of course, is that it is Friday on Saturday. Tomorrow we can act all Jewish and go to church on Saturday, although it will be Saturday on Sunday. Sunday when the pool opens. Sunday when it is revealed that I have eaten too much and run too little. Oh well. It is summer now, so who cares?