Something in the back of my pea brain kept yelling and jumping up and down for attention. It took me a whle to give it heed, but it turned out to be that part of my mind that keeps track of commitments.
“Hey! Dummy!” it said. “Didn’t you commit to 100 blog posts this year? Ya know…two per week?”
I don’t like it when it calls me names.
Regardless, I looked up and saw that the last post was January 13, and today is…counts fingers..several days later. So, in order to keep this train rolling, I need to post about something. Fortunately for me, I know a lot of puns, and the title of this post is one of them.
I originally thought it was from Groucho Marx, but the Wikipedia entry for the phrase (yes, it has its own Wikipedia page) says there’s no evidence he ever said it. Of course, it also goes into way too much detail on it and includes words like amphibology, antanaclasis, paraprosdokian, perverb, and syntactic ambiguity. So, there’s that.
The cool bit about it, though, is that it reminded me of an incident this Fall in my home office.
At a certain point, I started seeing a teeny, tiny fly zipping its way across my field of vision. My efforts to smack the little bugger between my hands were fruitless…but the fly was of the fruit variety.
I soon found out that he had siblings. Many. Many. Siblings.
Apparently, they had started a colony in the banana peels that I had thoughtfully placed in the waste basket. I was their life-giving God, dispensing manna from on high for their sustenance. They were determined to fly up and tell me how wonderful I was.
Sadly, I don’t speak fruit fly. So, in a fit of Old Testament vengeance, I tried to smite them all. Yet, they survived. My lightning quick reflexes had been dulled by time (see it all comes together).
Fortunately, my brain matter still knows how tell my fingers how to look stuff up on the internets, and I found my solution.
If you are ever in the same boat, where you have tired of the insignificant masses whose very existence depends upon you and your magnificence, and those masses happen to be fruit flies, then just fill a small bowl with apple cider vinegar and place a couple of drops of dish soap on the surface. Your faithful flock will fly to the food and be forever freedomless as their feet are fastened like fools, and you flush their flightless frames.
I did not mourn their destruction–for I am so much mightier than they. Yet, there is another part of my pea brain trying to get my attention now…some rubbish about Psalm 8?