My keyboard for a post

My keyboard for a post? I must be desperate. If an idea for a post suddenly surfaced I couldn't do much with it without a keyboard. That is probably just as well. Still its embarrassing. I have a blog and can't think of anything worthwhile to post.

The rioting in Iran would be worth a few words, but I don't want to meddle in their election.

Take the Cleveland Indians, they have provided fodder for a few posts. Better I leave that blogging to the Milwaukee Brewers. They are delighted with the Indians. First we take two out three from the Cardinals who are chasing the Brewers. Next we scare the hell out of the Brewers with a 12 to 8 lead in the seventh but lose 14 to 12. Not satisfied with those gifts, we are handing another game to them as I type. No, I don't want to blog about the Indians.

Photos would certainly satisfy the criteria for a post. One problem, even I am not enamored with my Photo Shop skills.

How about health care? Everybody is talking about reining in healthcare costs. I'm all for that but has anyone talked to the Cleveland Clinic. Obama has and he holds them out as an example of health care efficiency. I doubt that he has ever seen one of their bills. I'm still trying to find a Google translator for the last one I received. I really don't want to write about healthcare costs, I may write something I will regret at my next doctor's appointment.

Politics has never failed me in the past. I could pretend that I'm a Republican and tear apart everything that Obama has said or not said. I could but I won't.

I know, I could reminisce. Reminiscing can be fun. If you come up with something that is not so funny , you can always chalk it up to a poor memory. Now that's a possibility. Poor memory, dimentia , Alzheimer, aging. No, I said I couldn't put myself in a Republican's shoes.

Back to reminiscences. I remember listening to my mother and some of her lady friends sitting around the dinning room table, crocheting and exchanging botti. A botta is a ding or a slam. In the course of a conversation, a botta was there but cleverly disguised.

"Marianna, your daughter Maria looks so much better since she put on a little weight"

Maria was a fourteen year old putana who got knocked up. It's true ! Dave Letterman told me so.

While on the subject of a botta, how does this grab you. Francisco bragged to all his friends that Maria's condition resulted from " una botta e via". Translation - one night stand.

I'm sure I have enriched your time with this post. As they say, " if it's not worth saying don't say it". On the other hand the popularity of blogs would suffer dramatically if that were the case.

( Its 4-3 Milwaukee after seven. Go Tribe!)