Larry's Latest Laughs #1215

Coming up in the news:

Experts say to adapt to the cold on Mars you should live in Antarctica...To adapt to the cold in Antarctica you should live with my ex-wife.

Norway is now "paying" Syrian refugees to leave the country. They're putting them on a dingy and telling them it's a Viking River Cruise.

Officials now say the first human head transplant will take place in China. The surgeon doing the surgery is No Kah Ting Wong.

Now a study shows being a vegetarian is bad for the environment. For some that must be one hell of a dilemma .

The doctor to the stars they called "The Father of Botox" has died in Palm Springs. Everyone at the funeral had the same expression.

I just read smart car seats can now tell the driver's physical and mental state. A really good one can detect hemorrhoids.

A comedian has been elected the president of Venezuela. He'll be in his office every Thursday and wants you to try the veal.

I just clicked my Facebook "2015 Year in Review." It said better luck next year.

and finally...

I was in Walmart the night before Black Friday. There were extremely long lines everywhere, in all departments, winding through the store. I waited in one for two hours then found out it was the ladies' bathroom.

 

 

I Now Drive 55

           Last night when I leaned over to look at the clock next to the bed it was 11:53 PM. I said to the walls, “Another one almost over,” then rolled back and spent the last moments of my birthday looking at the ceiling reminiscing about past ones.

            I remembered adolescent birthday parties with ice cream and a cake made with yellow cake and chocolate icing. My aunt Alice always baked my favorite decorated with cowboys, Batman, or Saints players. I thought of the birthdays that fell on Thanksgiving Day and receiving extra dollar bills from relatives who were reminded of my special day when the all the family gathered for dinner. I would purposely count them in front of the men so they would ask why I had the money and tell them it was my birthday. Sneaky wasn’t it?

            I remembered the birthday at thirteen. My mother wrote Happy Birthday on 13 pieces of paper and placed them around the house. I had to find them all to get the present. She would do things like that. It made life more interesting.

            Through my teens my brother Jimmy would always take me duck hunting on my birthday. I remembered that, those memories lasting a lifetime.

            For my eighteenth birthday I remembered I helped my mother and sister clean the entire house before I was to meet my friend to get in a bar legally for the first time. Lounges now had to let me in no matter how young I looked. Friends started showing up at the house and when a friend I haven’t seen in years came by I realized all the people were there for a surprise party. I not knowingly cleaned up my house for my own surprise party. My mother did things like that. She made life interesting.

           The day I reached age 21 I felt empowered. I remembered that day because I had a swagger. I felt I had arrived. No other single day had done that before and none has since.

            At 30 I spent it on stage performing for the Illusions Night Club crowd. The stage I longed for as a child. I thought, pretty cool.

            I tried to remember, but figured it was somewhere between thirty three and thirty-five, I was on the radio in the morning, then taped something at the television station in the afternoon, then was in a play that night. That birthday was freaking awesome.

            At 40 I spent the first birthday with the women who would be my wife.

            Around the mid 40 birthdays, Percy Sledge would always sing since we always booked him at Visions and the Abyss the Saturday after Thanksgiving. I remembered that.

            At the half century mark I woke up in the French Quarter, part of the city where I was born. I walked to the river and watched the sunrise and thought about how I got to do what I love to do for the last forty-five years and how I live out a boyhood dream, however relative it is to the grand one I had. I remembered 50 is getting up there but it sure didn't feel old.

            And, yesterday at 55, I went to the radio station and did the morning show then bought my wife a Christmas present. I was so excited for her to have it I gave it to her early. (She’ll have another under the tree.) I then did a live broadcast from a restaurant and bar in the afternoon, and later in the evening was sung Happy Birthday by my lovely wife, and two grandkids, oddly hearing Larry, Paw Paw, and Daddy, simultaneously before blowing out a single candle on a chocolate cake. 

            I can’t tell you what I’ll be doing for the next birthday since the only thing constant is change, but I can tell you this. Last night staring at the ceiling I couldn’t remember any November 27^th that was a bad one.

            Thanks all for the birthday wishes. It was very nice of you. I truly thank you.

 

           

 

 

 

Larry's Latest Laugh- #1015

Coming up in the news...An Englishman obsessed with birds who cut off his ears to look like a parrot and wanted a plastic surgeon to make his nose a beak, died today when he choked on a cracker...Film at 11…

The doctor to the stars called "the father of Botox" died in Palm Springs. Everyone at the funeral will have the same expression.

 Today is National Coffee Day. I like mine so strong, the person pouring it stays up at night.

A study says the human fist evolved to punch. I wonder where the human foot was designed to go.

Miley Cyrus will perform a concert where she and the audience will be without clothes. Expect plenty of self in all the selfies.

Playboy got rid of the women in the magazine who are nude. Editors will now make the steamy articles in braille.

A new study shows monkeys like to watch movies. What ticks me off is when their kids kick the back of my seat in the theatre.

My wife told me today was National Bath Tub Day, a day to celebrate the invention of the bathtub and the perfect time for her to light a few candles, grab a glass of her favorite bubbly, pour in bath oils and enjoy a fabulous soak in the tub. I love it when she talks clean to me.

SoCS "Eat"

Stream of Consciousness Saturday. Linda Hill assigns a word. This week it's “eat." She also says we can add letters to it to make a different word. If you would like to learn how to take part in this game of words go to Linda’s site. http://lindaghill.com/2015/09/25/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-sept-2615/

"Eat.”
“Drink and be merry”
“Mary who?”
“Mary and Joseph with the Pope in town.”
“He’s in Philly today?”
"Think he’ll get a sandwich?”
“I don’t think so but I bet he’ll eat a wafer.”
“You mean a waffle?”
“No he’ll eat a communion wafer.”
“How does he know how many he should bring?
“They make a head count.”
“That’s gonna be a lot of wafers, Pete.”

Last stop Mistral Dawn!

Here is a link to the final stop on the Rave Reviews Book Club "Spotlight Author" Tour.
In it you'll find an excerpt from Beauregawd one of my one act plays.

http://mistralkdawn.blogspot.com/2015/08/rrbcs-spotlight-author-blogtour-larry.html?zx=69fddc4179ead9ab

 

 

Who Is Mistral Dawn?

Mistral Dawn is a thirty-something gal who has lived on both coasts of the US but somehow never in the middle. She currently resides in the Southeast US with her kitty cats (please spay or neuter! :-)) where she works as a hospital drudge and attends graduate school. Taken By The Huntsman is her first effort at writing fiction and if it is well received she has ideas for several more novels and short-stories in this series. Please feel free to visit her on FaceBook or drop her a line at mistralkdawn@gmail.com

I'm really starting to love these people.

Rave Reviews Book Club

Larry Hyatt in “WHO’S ON THE SHELF WITH NONNIE JULES?”

By reviewsbynonnie on August 27, 2015

 

Hello and welcome to “WHO’S ON THE SHELF?” with yours truly, Nonnie Jules!  Since we are a book club, we had to offer something that included a book shelf.  A lot of interviews merely cover an author’s work or an individual’s career stories.  Here on this “SHELF,”  we get down and dirty and ask the questions no other interviewer dare ask.  We ask the questions that you want to open up a book and find the answers to on your favorite authors and fellow book club members, but no one has dared to cover them.  WE get personal!  Because when you sit on the RRBC “SHELF”, YOU are an open book!

Today, I have with me on the “SHELF” our Current “SPOTLIGHT” Author, Larry Hyatt!

NJ:  Before we get started, how does the “shelf” feel to you?

Larry:  I’m a little nervous. The first rule of “Who’s on the Shelf” is you never double talk “Who’s on the Shelf.” Or, was that Fight Club? I forget.

NJ:  I don’t know, Larry.  I’m not familiar with Fight Club, but I would say that’s a safe rule to follow.  Is my shelf comfy?

Larry:  Oh, yeah. It’s just usually me asking the questions.

NJ:  OK, let’s start by confirming whether or not your author name is your birth name or a pen name?

Larry:  My father wanted to name me Larry so my parents compromised. My name is Lawrence. People call me Larry. My parents said Hyatt came from where I was conceived. You might know my brother Jimmy Motel 6.

NJ:  Larry, I may have met your parents, the “Hyatts” but can’t say that I’ve run across any Motel 6es.  Tell us where you were born? Do you still live there now? If not, what city and state are you calling home these days?

Larry:  I was born in New Orleans. I now live about 60 miles to the southwest in Houma, Cajun Country. I Thought I would be here 9 months, was going to be a big radio star. It’s been over 35 years. Its arms opened wide then hugged very tight. Cajuns aren’t afraid to be seen having a good time. I like that.

NJ:  We’re kinda sorta neighbors in that we share the same Governor.  I’m a Shreveport girl.  So, are you married or single?

Larry:  I married late in life at 45. She walked in a club when I was hosting a talent show. She walked in when I was in between acts. My heart started pounding. I asked the bartender, “Who is that?” He said, “I don’t know but I’m gonna find out.” I married her.

NJ:  Must’ve been the jokes that hooked her  (-_______________-) So do you kids have any  kids? If so, how many? Sons or Daughters?

Larry:  No biological children. I have a 5 year old granddaughter, Talia, who calls me dad. My wife and I raise her. We’ve had her since day one. It’s not a tragic story just a family one.

NJ:  Favorite child…

Larry:  She is my favorite little kid and she’s bright, much smarter than her cousins. Those kids ain’t right.

NJ:  Pets? What kind?

Larry:  We got two cats to get Talia to sleep in her own bed, Joyful and Stinky. Also, two turtles Noah and Tur-lit the Turtle, Talia’s idea.

NJ:  Favorite food

Larry:  If I were going to the electric chair I would eat a steak.

NJ:  Favorite color…

Larry:  Royal Blue since I was a child. My mother made Mardi gras costumes. I love silver sequins and rhinestones on royal blue velvet.

NJ:  Favorite sport…

Larry:  Saints Football and I do play golf.

NJ: Favorite TV Show…

Larry:  News and entertainment to keep up on current events to write for the radio show.

NJ:  Favorite Actress/Actor…

Larry:  That’s tough and this isn’t a dodge. I like some actors in some things. I loved Morgan Freeman in Shawshank Redemption. Daniel Craig is really the best James Bond. Hugh Grant was charming in Romantic Comedies. I haven’t seen many “grown up” movies in the last 5 years. My wife and I call those days BT, before Talia. Starving artists don’t have premium channels and I haven’t gone to Blockbuster in ages. What? You’re kidding me?

NJ:  Couch potato or workout nut? Be honest

Larry:  I’m back to a workout regimen. I did lose plenty weight 4 years ago but gained it back. Now I’ve lost half of that. I ran a half marathon years ago and I seemed to have reached the goal and started to fall back. Tired I guess. The skinny pictures on face book are from when I was the workout nut.

NJ:  Biggest pet peeve that makes you want to stomach-punch somebody?: (For the record, NJ does not condone violence but she does believe in being honest so she has to admit that there are times when she feels like some friendly stomach-punching is a little necessary).

Larry:  I hate it when I’m driving down the road and people begin to cross the street and walk out to the middle. That really chaps my….Stay on the side of the road till I pass! Not to mention it’s dangerous with people texting and not looking! Goodness gracious! You are not going to stop my car! It makes me want to throw my beer can at them.

NJ:  Are you neat or messy?

Larry:  At work I’m messy. If it’s true we come from dust on my desk alone is the birth of a nation. My wife doesn’t stand for that at home.

NJ:  Facebook or Twitter?

Larry:  It’s both really. The station demands it. I’m a brand they tell me. When a young Program Director said that, I thought I was going to die. I do jokes on my Facebook and use the radio station page to engage listeners. Eighty percent of my twitter account is writer related. I use both and hope people will see the humor and spark them to download and read the books and plays.

NJ:  Name two of the most supportive people you’ve met on either Facebook or Twitter? Hurry and tell us so we can become their friend.

Larry:  It’s the Facebook friends who respond to the posts. If I can get them to engage then I succeeded. On twitter it’s the members of RRBC. The way the group engages your tweets is really very encouraging. I feel like I’m a part of a writer’s community.

NJ:  I’m almost afraid to ask you this one… feel there’s a “heckler” transplant in the audience just waiting for this question.  Nonnie Jules or Wonderwoman? Be honest

Larry:  Nonnie, I’d bet if you spun around fast enough you’d be wearing red, white, and blue and showing a lot of leg. I get two for one.

NJ:  Well, you get an easy A+ for all of the above!  I spin, ends up in red, white and blue (lasso on my hip) and I’m leggy!  So there!  OK, everyone knows the names Mark Twain and Stephen King but how about you give us two names of some INDIE authors that you favor…

Larry:  Beem Weeks and Jon Paul Olivier.

NJ:  What is it about them that you’ve come to like?

Larry:  Week’s book, Jazz Baby 

…is great and he’s very insightful when you read his blog posts about writing and the state of the industry. A while back he posted about this group he wanted readers to know called RRBC and I said to myself, “I’m looking into this.” Jon Paul is a sort of mentor who helps me with publishing. He does well with his books under a pen name. He says he has many books out but won’t tell me the pen name or what genre they are. It sure makes me wonder what he’s writing. His fiction is good. He does have a non-fiction book called Tablet Topics.

NJ:  Beem is great, isn’t he?!  Name one favorite INDIE book that you’ve read:

Larry:  Jazz Baby

NJ:  ONE good INDIE book you read that was so good you wished the entire world would read it:

Larry:  Got to go with Jazz Baby. It would make a great movie.

NJ:  What was so great about it?

Larry:  I felt I was there. I smelled faint whiffs of cigarette smoke in the Jazz hall. When out on the back roads I could feel the sweltering sun. He captured the MC perfectly, too.

NJ:  After you read books, do you post reviews?

Larry:  Yes, I do now. It’s harder when I’m out of my genre, though. I hosted a local musician CD release show that had different genres of music. I found myself asking a Death Metal musician if that certain CD was good or bad so I could decide if I should put it on the show. I didn’t know. It sounded terrible to me but I had to pick a CD. In the same way, sometimes I don’t get the YA or the Chick Lit with hunks and hook ups. I think, maybe it’s me. If I’m not informed, I shy away from them.

NJ:  What do you think readers should base their reviews on?

Larry:  I think the overall book, giving points and taking them away to come up with a score to fill in the stars.

NJ:  Are you one of those who are afraid to be honest in their reviews lest the author gets upset with you, or is honesty your best policy, especially in reviews?

Larry:  No BS on the shelf, right? I’ve been critiqued most of my life. I live with the fact that my next boss who could take over any given day, might think I’m not good enough. On a whim he can take my livelihood. But, I trudge on trying to get better, basically doing my best for the guy who might fire me. I’ve accepted that part of the business. Reviews do sell books. Just because I think you suck doesn’t mean you do. But I have my opinion and it wields power on the review page. That’s what I’m caught between, my opinion and its power. I’ve caused people, singers and actors, to cry because they couldn’t play a certain part they wanted, and it was only local theatre. In the review I’d rather not just give the plot so I try to come up with an element that encourages, give a glimpse of my overall thoughts. I don’t lie and say I liked it if I didn’t.

NJ:  Read any poorly written books lately?

Larry:  The poorly written ones I don’t finish. I can give you half. Then I’m moving on. If I get through a book, I’ve found some value and I’ll find it. I would like a new beta-reader program where people are brutally honest. I would like that. For me and those writers who do get sugar coated? I don’t want to publicly blast with a review after the release. I will say this. A bad review is good for someone who wants to be a good writer. A person is not truly in a business till someone says to you, “You’ll never make it in this business.”

NJ:  Where’s your review so I can go and check it out? LOL, No, seriously.

Larry:  I have to finish a book to comment. I’d like people to have finished mine if they decided to say something.

NJ:  So, I take it you’re an author?

Larry:  I would call myself an Indie Author. It’s a little more clarification. I’ve won a couple awards for my plays so I’m a writer.

NJ:  How long have you been writing?

Larry:  Taking it seriously since 2004

NJ:  What books have you written?

Larry:  How to Reach for the American Dream… (And not get it.) 

and two one act plays called ‘Beauregawd’ and ‘Pie.’ Sherman Octavia Beauregawd is the oldest living Louisiana politician. He remembers Huey Long, when he was short.” His election catch phrase is, “If you don’t remember my name, remember initials.”
‘Pie,’ takes place in a Golden Corral. The MC loves the chocolate pie. It’s a slice of life.

NJ:  Which one of these pieces do you think is the best?

Larry:  Beauregawd, it was written for a competition. It came in 2nd place, as did ‘Pie’. It was beaten by the same person who beat ‘Beauregawd.’ Coming in second in life is my story. How to reach for the American dream and not get it, huh?

NJ:  Do you have a blog or website?

Larry:  Yes. http://www.hyhatt.blogspot.com.

NJ:  Name three great online resources or organizations that every author should belong to:

Larry:  RRBC and the website Koobug. The folks at Koobug will comment on your post and give words of support. I do enjoy following other writer’s on Blogspot. I learn things from them. National Association of Memoir Writers is a group I had interest with. I’ve listened to the free seminars. I thought I would look into them since I write about my life or in first person but I’m not a member.

NJ:  Which online resource or organization has helped you as an author the most?

Larry:  RRBC.

NJ:  How has the club helped you most, Larry?

Larry:  You promote the members.  I constantly get new twitter followers from new members. I get your email letters. I’ve joined the webcasts. I like the community and I’m quite flattered I’m ON THE SHELF.

NJ:  Since you’re sitting on the SHELF, you’re obviously a Rave Reviews Book Club member, so what do you think of the club?

Larry:  Man, you got some stuff going on. It’s wonderful. It has grown quite quickly. I feel like I’m in the game, connecting with writers, even if it’s just twitter re-tweets. I know of the struggles of trying to make it and now understand what writers go through, some from an early age, wanting to achieve what most can’t. It might not be because of lack of talent. If I help others get their word out, I like that. I want people to find their dream.

NJ:  Have you come across any other online entities like RRBC?

Larry:  No

NJ:  Would you recommend it to your friends and family?

Larry:  Wholeheartedly!

NJ:  This shelf is getting hard on my hiney, so we’re going to wrap this interview up. Any final words, Larry?

Larry:  Thank you for this opportunity. Thank you very, very much. I hope I added to RRBC and made some people smile.

NJ:  Thank you so much for joining me on the shelf, Larry!  To my guests, please support Larry by picking up a copy of his book, HOW TO REACH FOR THE AMERICAN DREAM… (AND NOT GET IT!).   You can also support Larry by visiting his blog stops on his tour which ends on Saturday.  You can find the tour line up here.  

Have you joined Rave Reviews Book Club yet?  Well, here’s your chance!  And since Larry was on the “SHELF” today, tell them he sent you.  Make it a great day, my friends.  We’ll see you next time, right here on the “SHELF!!”

https://ravereviewsbynonniejules.wordpress.com/2015/08/27/larry-hyatt-in-whos-on-the-shelf-with-nonnie-jules/

Join me on the radio.

My blog tour will take me to Rave Waves Blogtalk Radio with John Fioravanti 11am CDT ,Thursday August 27th.

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/ravereviewsbookclub, 

 Join in the conversation on Twitter, by sending your questions and comments using the hashtag RRBCBringOnTheSpotlight.  

Rave Reviews Book Club - What a wonderful group.

 

https://ravereviewsbynonniejules.wordpress.com/spotlight-authors/

 

SPOTLIGHT AUTHOR FOR WEEK OF August 23, 2015!

This week's "SPOTLIGHT" Author is LARRY HYATT, author of "HOW TO REACH FOR THE AMERICAN DREAM (And Not Get It!)" which you can snag a copy of on Amazon.
To find out even more about LARRY, the amazing support-filled package he's receiving this week, and to support him on his 7-day blog tour, please visit the "SPOTLIGHT" Author's page on this site.
Don't forget to join Larry as he takes his chances up ON THE SHELF with Nonnie Jules on Thursday, 8/27/15, and you will also definitely want to tune in to his interview with John Fioravanti, that same day, at 11am CST, on BRING ON THE SPOTLIGHT! So much fun for Larry as he sits under "the" most fabulous "SPOTLIGHT" ever!
Let's show @LarryHyatt grand support while he sits in this fabulous "hot" seat here at Rave Reviews Book Club, so that when you're sitting here, the same will be done for you!!!

Larry's Latest Laughs #141

Heinz is laying off 2,500 employees. Company officials said, "Well, we want to lay them off but we can't get them out of the factory.

A 12 year old girl got a 162 on an IQ test making her one of the smartest people in the world. After finding out she said, "I'm like so surprised. Like I think I'm getting like Corporal Tunnel Syndrome from like texting all my friends."

Today is National Underwear Day! If you're supporting please be brief.

Peru officials made "first contact" with an isolated tribe that has never seen civilization. Things got weird when the leader emerged with a "Vote Trump" badge."

A report says China has been reading Obama officials e-mails since 2010. The Chinese called the hacking scheme, code name, "Wonton Dupe."

Arnold Schwarzenengger's 68th birthday is today. His latest catch phrase, "I hurt my back."

 

 

 

Where Do Tomatoes Come From?

Talia, our 5 year old granddaughter/daughter, was playing outside in the pool pretending she was cooking. My wife was close by keeping an eye on her when Talia asked a question.

Talia: Hey Mommy, where does tomato sauce come from?
Wife: It comes from tomatoes.
Talia: Where does tomatoes come from?
Wife: From the dirt. They grow.
Talia: Well, where does the dirt come from?
Wife: (Seeing where this is going)I don't know, Talia. It comes from the ground. God makes it. He makes everything.
Talia: Then why didn't he just make the tomato sauce?

I think she's going to be alright.

A Terrible Business Man.

The bio on this blog says I suck as a businessman but the gentleman, who recently had me look again into the pain, doesn’t read my blog. He’s a fellow media person, a sports writer with a sports related magazine. I met him when I hosted a sports related television show. Our conversation went like this:

“Larry, I have a great business opportunity for you. Just give me twelve minutes of your time.”

“It’s just that I’m not a good sales person,” I stressed. “I’ve tried it over and over again. I just don’t like it.”

“Hey, I don’t like selling either. That’s why I do this. Let me drop off a DVD at the station.”

“OK, I’ll take a look.”

And I did, because every time I left the media, entertainment, or creative part of my life it was to make plenty of money. That’s what I’ve never had in my life. (Luckily, my wife doesn’t spend money. She’s tighter than two coats of paint.)

My friend had a great product, a new one which made me mad at myself for not taking him up on the offer but I’ve come to this conclusion. I’m tired of trying to convince people to do something.
I’m what you call a buyer’s sales person. Everyone gets a deal and forget about haggling. I seem to cave and give them money to take it off my hands.

Believe me, I wasn’t this way as a kid. I sold flower seeds to save enough money to buy a BB gun. After that I baked cakes and went door to door in the neighborhood to raffle it off, had the usual passé lemonade stand, and sold cup cakes out of the front door of my house. Little kids would come knocking at the door, look from side to side, and ask my mother, “Hey Mrs. Hyatt, Larry got any cup cakes?” It was like a drug deal that ended with a sugar high.

What the hell happen to me? That kid is long gone.

Could it be somewhere between wanting money to be happy and needing money to be happy, I lost my drive to go after the money? I can’t be alone?

Good Lord, how can a person who sucks at selling, sell themselves?

Larry's Latest Laughes

The world’s first witchcraft café has opened to serve love spells, black magic, and potions. “Uh, excuse me, Miss. There’s an eye in my soup.”

Two rival self driving cars almost collided in California. Their features allowed both to text obscene messages.

Researchers in the Netherlands were amazed when a chimpanzee rattled off a drum solo and linked it to human’s music ability. Researchers however were then disappointed when he ripped open the drum to see where the sound was coming from.

I bought that new technology that allows me to change the TV channel with my mind. All I keep doing is flushing all the toilets.

In three years food sold in the U.S. will be free of trans fat. Aren’t we supposed to except trans fat?

Donald Trump threw his hair into the presidential ring and stated that it is actual hair, but it identifies itself as a wombat.

Father's Day 2015

By: Larry Hyatt
Sung to the tune “Cats in the Cradle.”

My father died on a cloudy day.

He always wondered why he went astray.
He was young and scared and he never knew
When life throws curves you can see it through.
So he took off to see
What he'd find in the sky
Not knowing what’s missing inside.
Something was missing inside….

And,

Weekends were special and I had to learn
How missing a father makes little boys yearn.
To fill that heart they’ll turn other ways
To seek that something they crave.
To find a love
That they crave.

He’s long since been gone, my life it sure has changed.

I’ve come to grips with so many blames.
I got bills to pay and places to see
I bounce a little girl upon my knee.
And I think of my dad and the gleam in her eyes
She says, “Daddy, say again, I’m your prize. Please say it again, I’m your prize.”

And as her words rang true it occurred to me.

My father enlightened me.
He taught me how not to be he.

And,

Weekends were special and I had to learn
How missing a father makes little boys yearn.
To fill their heart they’ll turn other ways
To seek that something they crave.
To find the love
That they crave.

Be there for your children and not just there, nurture.

 

Chimps Get What They Want

            Washington, DC: In a new report from The US Fish and Wildlife Service, captive chimps will get major new changes from medical researchers.  
             A group of chimpanzees, calling themselves “The Spunky Monkeys,” got their wish by formally complaining about the pay discrepancy between the ranks in medical marijuana and breeding research, and other monkeys forced through procedures that probe the prostate. 
            “We just didn’t think it was right,” said Thumbs, a chimp from the prostate group looking to get at least $50 an hour. “Those monkeys are getting high every day, I mean really high, enjoying what researchers call ‘companionship.’ We call it something else, not to mention the food they eat. You run up that cold metal rod and see if you wouldn't want what the stoners are getting.”  
            Some medical researchers don’t welcome the changes saying this isn’t what monkeys are supposed to do for the rest of their lives. Doctor Paige Turner, top researcher at the Monkey See, Monkey Do Research Facility, said, “Young primates need to learn a skill and move on to better paying jobs like the circus or becoming a You Tube sensation, and what about the lost art of taking people’s money for an organ grinder?”
            Thumbs, the chimp from the prostate group went on to say, “I know everyone can’t start at the top but I should get compensated if they’re gonna start with my bottom.”
            The new pay increase goes in effect in July.

Larry's Latest Laughs

Me: Hey Honey, The FDA has recommended approval of "female Viagra."
Wife: Wait a minute. Someone invented a pill that cleans the house, washes clothes, and rubs my feet when I get home from work?

The Charlie Charlie Challenge is a twitter craze taking over social media. Kids everywhere are trying to summon a Mexican Demon. I hope it doesn't have anything to do with that burrito I ate for lunch.

A study has found chimps have the mental skills to cook. School children across America say it's better than Michelle's lunch program.

A movement is underway to prohibit lengthy breath holding underwater in public pools. The government passed a policy. Swimmers in the USA are now required to grow gills.

My self driving car came home after an accident and blamed it on a hit and run. I don't know if I should believe it.

Preschool Commencement Address

         “Who’s the commencement speaker?” I asked my wife on the way to my granddaughter’s preschool graduation. She smiled and rolled her eyes. It made me think that if I get asked when Talia graduates from kindergarten, I had better be ready.
           I imagined myself taking the podium, looking over the crowd, and seeing the happy family members half smiling back. In my mind I place my papers down, look up, and begin in an uplifting manner.
          
            Good evening parents… grandparents… family and friends… and especially you, our graduates. Congratulations, you have reached this joyous occasion through long grueling days of Play-Doh, paste, and Playground. You have every right to be proud of yourself.

            Months ago you timidly climbed the steps to the slide, nervously moved on to the greater heights of the monkey bars, then proudly reached, ever so higher to the tippy top of the castle, taking your blankey to places that were literally, and I mean literally, out of reach just years before.  

            As you looked out over the school yard you thought, shucks, I’d rather be home playing X-Box, but through your perseverance you unwittingly formed a foundation, a foundation for a new you and new way of thinking. You now know, everything is not yours, the tags on your clothes go to the back, and crying only sometimes helps because adults can still use force when no one’s looking.

            You see, Graduates, your parents are thinkers, go getters. With their sense of responsibility they smartly opened up their wallets so you can get a head start on learning life’s rules. The rules that your teachers, through clinched teeth taught, “Keep your hands to yourself,” “Play fair,” and “Don’t run with that stick.” And now, the rule you’re just about to figure out on your own, “Having a little bit of money can’t hurt.”

            Now, Graduates, I’d like to speak to your parents for a moment for they are about to live for the first time, or possibly relive an excursion into mandatory school life.

            Parents… look at your little darlings up here in their cute little caps and gowns, smiling back, some with their hats too low to their eyes, waving at you with complete abandon because they don’t care where they are. They’re perfect little angels aren’t they? It’s the same way they act with you at home isn’t it?

            They notice you and the love they have for you makes them react, to tell you they love you. They say it by waving proudly, calling, “Hey Mom!”, or “Hey Dad!” They want you to see them. They feel safe when they know you’re watching. Take a look…Now, look around you…Now, feel this building and the presence of others who have children here. Older brothers and sisters, grandparents, aunts and uncles, remember that you are here, too. Thank you for taking part in your family’s history and when these new personalities started to form. You are here for them, as fate gently pushes them into the game of life.

            Soon, they will be asked to play.
           
            Some will play first string. Others will have to work harder and develop skills that are unique to the team. But all will participate.
            Although, he or she won’t always know exactly what position is best for them, you should use your expertise to nudge them into the direction you want. And, there will come a time when they have to decide on their own. Support that decision.

            Of course you have some time. Right now all they want to be is Princesses, Ninja Turtles, and Santa. I heard the other day about a little girl who said when she grows up; she wants to be a twin.

            They will grow up and as they do, love them with all your heart.

            Sadly, my mother wasn’t lucky. She had a son who wouldn’t shut up.
           “Yes, Larry,” she would tiredly say. “What is it now, Larry,” she moaned. “We don’t have a Teddy Bear, Larry”… “Larry, here, sleep with this rubber chicken.”

            But she took me to shows and voice lessons, piano lessons and guitar lessons until I figured out my path. She was right. It was in the arts.

            In a book I wrote I delve into how people take different paths for success, the twists and turns and the forks in the road one navigates to move forward, to mature, and to prosper. I’ve found I’m at my weakest when I leave the arts to find my fortune. I write “The only luxury I’ve never been afforded was the luxury of having luxury.” Money isn’t everything. Happiness in your heart is success.

             These kids in the next few years will be finding out things about their young selves that will direct them toward being a happier child and to things that are challenging that will test their inner strength. Let them know once again that the game of life doesn’t always play by the rules. Once again, love them with all your heart and they will learn through your example.

            I beg you to take your child places and when there, explain what’s all around them. If all you have time and money for is to take them for a simple walk downtown. There is a whole lot of history you can tell them about. Take them to see the ducks, festivals, or fishing on the side the road. Just take them. Time waits for no one.

            In closing, I’d like to do the parents a favor and give the graduates some tips to take through the next year. It might stick. I figured I’d try.

            Kids… when you’re at the LSU Football game and everyone is yelling, Charge! Charge! Charge! Do not look up at daddy and say, “You know that’s how mommy got the new furniture after I heard you say not to.”

            Kids, when the family is over at Christmas and your grandfather smiles for the pictures, do not yell out, “Gee, Paw Paw the tooth fairly must have given you a lot of money. You don’t have any teeth.”

            Kids, when in the store at the checkout counter, do not tell the clerk, “I’m only getting this present because daddy says it will shut me up.”

            And, kids, when your family has guests over and one mentions you have a lovely couch, do not ever say, "We know, that’s because daddy ends up sleeping there a lot.”

           Thank you and remember, life for you and your family starts right here, in your heart.

 

Driving it Home

My wife and I, with Talia, were on the way home from New Orleans when a pick up truck in front of us started to swerve to the shoulder of the road.

Me: Look, that car in front of us swerved off the road... Must be textin'.
Wife: What makes you think that? The license plate says Louisiana.

My eyes turned to her but my head stayed straight.

Mother's Day 2015

By: Larry Hyatt

Sung to tune “Bohemian Rhapsody” By Queen.


Momma…Don’t kick the can....
Forever we’ll be friends
Now I’m changing your Depends.
Momma…That’s quite OK
Cause without
I would be in disarray.

Momma…ooo
Didn’t mean to make you cry,
I didn’t know I would
Take the path I walked on
But your love never trailed
You believed, though, I would fail.

Dink, dink, dink, dink, dink, dink, dink, dink.

I was a little bitty brat that was bad.
Whip his butt, whip his butt then we’ll make him do the right thing.
He won’t do his school work and he has a silly smirk.
Mrs. Hyatt, NO! We cannot whip butt!
(Whip his butt!)
Mrs. Hyatt, NO! We cannot whip his butt!
(Whip his butt!)
Mrs. Hyatt, NO!
(Whip his butt! Whip his butt! Whip his little redhead butt!)

No! No! No! No! No! No! No!

"Oh momma mia, momma mia,
Momma mia, whip his butt.”
He is the devil spawn and
He will be the death of me.
Of me… of meeeeeeee.

(Big Music)

Mom, you’re the one who still loves me with all of my flaws,
Unconditionally, that is what gives them some pause.
Oh…. baby, you are the one who has saved me.
You won’t concede that I won’t succeed in this world.
(More big music)

Nothing really matters
Except your love for me.
I love you oh so much.
I thank you oh so much.
For… accepting me….
As me………
(Any way the wind blows.)

Happy Mother’s Day

What's going on with the drug screens?

I’ve been hearing some very interesting stories from friends getting random drug tests. It’s a given being in the oil patch, and I understand how oil related companies can be sued for millions. If an accident happens while someone is high on drugs, it could devastate a company. But, the stories I’m hearing about having to get visual drug screens are starting to get weird.
A “visual” is where an observer watches you “go” in the cup. That person is there to make sure they’re not cheating, but we all know what’s happening. Two men, who are complete strangers, have their heads pointed in one direction, well, in most cases, watching urination hit plastic.
From what I hear, the rooms can be very small. In some cases four feet by four feet. That’s the size of a stall.  Look, if you can put a hand on the observer’s shoulder and pee in the cup, that’s too close for most men, especially men in the oilfield. 
I’m now hearing they’re making men drop their underwear below their knees, lift their shirt, and spin around.
Spin around? They want a full moon, from guys in the oilfield? Are they out of their mind? When I heard this, I thought, maybe it could be the observer having some fun.
“You’re not going to believe what I got this guy from BP to do. I had him drop his pants, lift up his shirt, spin around, and stand on one foot. I told him to sing Happy Birthday while he was peeing.”
“The guy did it?”
“Freakin’ right. He makes 200k a year and they’re laying people off. Another five-thousand workers and I’ll get them to quack like a duck.”
Is this procedure?
Is not watching the stream go directly into the cup enough?
Is there one guy doing this to everybody?     
What the hell is going on here?
I have to say, my friends in the industry are starting to feel violated, some in their sixties are confused. I heard one, almost seventy, had stripped off his clothes in front of the observer and said, “Now, is this bare-assed enough to let you know I haven’t smoked marijuana since Vietnam?”
Here’s a thought. Possibly, the powers that be could make the “Testies”  (No pun intended) take off all their clothes, put on a robe, and go in another room. I think that would take a lot less time. I’m hearing even hard core men have bashful bladder in circumstances like these.
The oilfield industry is one of the most dangerous professions to be a part of. You are constantly dealing with things that can hurt you, but, when trying to stay in a profession becomes whipping it out, and borderline humiliating yourself, I have to ask, who should get hazardous pay, the guy taking the test, or the guy having to watch a parade of guys taking the test?         
I guess both are hard core.

Who Owns Mardi Gras?

The powers that be of Mardi Gras in Terrebonne Parish,  the largest Mardi Gras celebration outside the city of New Orleans, has decided, in an unprecedented move, to move the parades of Lundi Gras and Fat Tuesday to the Sunday before, four parades in one day. There will be no parades Monday or Tuesday. The weather is “supposed/will be bad.” They can and they did. But, do they own Mardi Gras or does the public?

To the riders who say, I spent “all that money,” only to be greeted by the few stray diehards, ask yourself, when you spend all that money on deer season and don’t kill a deer, is it the same?

Tourist, who were invited to our city, by our city, next time check our weather before you book the flight. It didn’t mean to tick you off by coming here for nothing. I guess it figured it has the oilfield money to back it up. Oh, wait. Never mind.

And, that religious thing, it was forty days and forty nights, not forty two. But, hey, things have moved up. Let’s have that crawfish boil on Wednesday instead of Good Friday and be done with it. Of course, that’s “if” the weather is supposed/will be bad.

For those who say Mardi Gras is not cancelled but only the parades have been moved, why not get the Easter Bunny to deliver his eggs on the Saturday before Easter. I mean if the weather is going to be a problem in South Louisiana let’s just scrap it all, call it “Mardi Houma”, and move everything to a sunny day picked in between February 12^th and  March 15^th.  I do advise you not to screw with the St. Patrick’s Day Parade, but then again, we can have that any time the Irish get drunk. Rain or shine.

What about the businesses? “Well, at least now the distributors can buy back all the extra stock I bought in preparation for the festivities,” that’s a quote I heard, by NO business owner in Terrebonne Parish.

Now, I do want to wish good luck to the last krewe to roll on Sunday. Hunker down at Southland Mall. You will be there waiting for three parades to move before you. It’s not your fault. I honestly hope you enjoy your day. I’m a purest when it comes to Mardi Gras. Look at my previous post.

I would have loved to been at the meeting as the powers voiced their opinions. Was the move because of the bad weather, the chance to get Mardi Gras over with, or was the money spent by krewe members far too much for them to be cheated from a miraculous ride, disrupting tradition?

Whatever it was, it has now been set, a weather related precedent for any festival, 5K run, or non-profit function. Get the city to move them for you, free of charge. Postpone them, wait fifteen minutes, or, if you’re worthy, the actual day of the event could change and accommodate not only you, but all those involved, because now we know, it can happen. It was done for Mardi Gras.

Here’s some good thoughts though, we give up drinking two days early for lent and at Rouse's and Cannata’s, the price of king cakes should plummet Monday morning.

 

           

Pomp and Mardi Gras

It’s another Mardi Gras without our matriarch, the woman who filled our lives with purple, green, and gold, sequins iridescent, and soft velvets of the rainbow. She made costumes, exquisitely, to bring joy, laughter, and of course, the pageantry of that once a year pomp and circumstance.
I’ve always liked that part. (She made me weird.)
I like to attend a parade on a crisp sunny afternoon, look up to a reviewing stand and see the maids dressed to the tee, debutantes for a day in an array of colors, their hats dipped just so completing their individual look. They always seem to hang along the rail, bright smiles and loving the crowd, chalice in hand, waving and enjoying what it means to be that part of Fat Tuesday. I’ve never seen a maid who wasn’t having fun.
Also on the reviewing stand are the dukes, past or present, handsome in their black ties and tails, tuxedos that have changed through the years, but still, dashing as they seem to feel, as they should, they are royalty for a day, and today there is an air about them, not the wild reveler when riding in their mystic krewe.
In the middle, always the Queen, stunning as she presides over her court, always outshining the others, if for no reason other than knowing she is for today the upper echelon. Queens, on a reviewing stand remind me of brides.
“All queens of Mardi Gras look beautiful and don’t you ever forget it.” I heard that as a young boy from the person who dealt with them. She knew they were our livelihood.     
And, yes, I enjoy the toast to the King and Queen. I know it stalls the parade but those who don’t understand are there for some other reason.
You see, the toast is when champagne glasses are raised, praises are made, and flowers are given to wives, daughters, friends, and dignitaries. A key to the city could be presented from a mayor or parish president, and all this pageantry, done high above revelers, I find freaking cool. And, when the toast is finished you can hear it, as they actually throw the glass down to the pavement to break it.
When I see the parade coming, I patiently wait through the motorcycles, dune buggies and clowns, and I smile when royalty stops at the reviewing stand and remember my childhood. It’s a part of my being; engraved from the earliest days. You could say it’s in my veins, not red, but the pomp and circumstance of purple, green, and gold.

 

Super Bowl 2015

Today is Super Bowl Sunday. Here are some rules if you’re throwing a Super Bowl party. If you’re inviting someone to your house, don’t screw it up.

1.     Play a drinking game. When the announcer mentions the words “deflated”, those who drink should take a sip. It must only be used when referring to the football, not when referencing the cheerleaders.

2.     It’s a given. One of the teams will score right before the end of the quarter, half, or end of the game, pissing off a person at the party who had those numbers in a pool. If someone else has the new numbers, they should pretend to sympathize till one of them leave the room.

3.  The referees will completely screw up a call. When instant replay overturns it, “try” to get your guests to get over it and move on. It’s a game. I did say, “try.”

4.     If everyone brings a dish to your party make sure everyone brings something expensive or something that took a long time to make. I’m having a party and thought I should throw that out there.

5.     If women are at your party, Tom Brady’s looks and his supermodel wife will come into play. Men, please, get ahead of this. Explain that the cute quarterback, if he loses, is going home to a freaking supermodel.

6.  If the game is a blow out, everyone except Colorado is screwed.  

7.  Don’t be perplexed when at least one announcer during the game says that every player on the field is the “Best player in the league” ignoring the fact he can’t explain why a team can lose at all.

8.  If anyone is watching only for the commercials, tell them, shame, shame, shame. You could have seen those on the internet.

9.   Belichick will cheat. You just won’t know how.

And finally,

10.  A wardrobe malfunction is something you can wish for. Hell, it's Katy Perry.

Call Your Mother

Tears fall on the keyboard as I lean forward to get a better look.
Squinting and frustrated, I finally make it larger.
I desperately want to see the memory,
It’s the face that shaped me.

 

“My youngest wearing glasses, maybe you’ll see your way to call me.”
“Mom, I’m sorry, but when I don’t call I feel guilty. Then I don't call."
“So, I should just call my son, right?"
“Yes, I would love to talk to you.”
“But when I call and ask questions you seem to be busy.”
“Well… only, when I am busy.”
“Oh, okay. Let me know, because when you’re not busy, I’ll just stick my foot up your ass.”

I miss my mother. She was very funny.