Rock Me Like an Earthquake

Apparently we had 11 earthquakes in Oklahoma early March 30th. I was asleep, as a matter of fact, I slept like a baby. It must have been the rocking motion. We Okies are used to wind shears of 70-80 miles per hour and even F-5 tornados, but when it comes to other natural disasters we just stand around like a flock of sheep outside looking up at the skies. The earth could be opening up a crevice and we’d still be looking up at the skies, “Well Myrtle, I don’t see a durn thang in that there sky, must be UFO’s!”

Every Saturday at noon our tornado sirens go off for 5 minutes to test if they work and if 3 million Okies will run outside looking at the skies with their dumbphones hoping to catch an F5. I think it must be a practical joke the severe storm lad loves to play on us. We Okie intellects even chase them around the city, hoping for photos and videos of people and cows flying by waving and smiling. Yes, our cows do in fact smile, but wave?  Oh that’s just plain silly! My Golden Retriever goes nutzoid when these sirens go off. They need only run them 30 second to a minute, oh no, they go on for 5 full minutes.  I think they have a kickback operation going on with hearing aid device manufacturers.  My Golden howls and screams and then pees as soon as it ends. Appears she’s the only bright Okie that knows when these things go off, there’s some serious #$%^ about to fly by.

This last year many people dug deep into their garages to place a tornado survival shelter. I think this is great, until I read that many of these shelters leaked, allowing enough water to enter for people to drown. So there you are survived the F5 tornado, while 100 tons of debris rests upon the escape door and your up to your toupee in water. If you’re lucky, we’ll get a 6.0 earthquake at the same time and raise the ground 5 feet so the water can drain off. We can only hope, or activate our dumbphone quickly enough to post to YouTube and Facebook and scream like a little baby asking for anyone to come to our aid. Problem is that that day your friend base will be on Pinterest or Twitter, or one of the other 3,000 social media sites. Well, then you are just plain screwed. Forgive my French, I do not speak it well.

A couple of years ago we had a 4.7 quake here in Norman. It actually shook the house and I was actually frightened. I screamed like a baby Golden Retriever. It was not a pretty sight. I ran outside to pee.  Hey, if it works for the Golden, it has got to work for me. Shortly after that incident we had a string of severe storms in 2013 that brought devastation and death to too many good people. Yet, we are resilient or completely insane. We stand here, nearly April 2014, waiting on the storm season to begin. We’ll turn on our TV’s and watch the radar and soon as it’s close – we run outside with our dumbphones. It never changes and it never will.  It is a right of passage here in the Sooner state.

So I’ll just turn on the TV for the radar, mute it, put on a little “Rock Me Like An Earthquake” by the Scorpions, pray for 11 quakes and take a nap. Or, I might just watch ads on the Tornado/Earthquake/Flood/Tsunami/Meteor survival shelter by Ronco (only $19,999,999.99 – buy now and get another free.)

As soon as the Golden Retriever Pee Alarm goes off, then I’ll run outside for MY collection of tornado photos.

Now for the sing along:

It’s early April, the sun is blackened out
Last night was shaking and pretty loud
My retriever is peeing and scratching my skin
So what is wrong when the clouds begin to spin
The Golden is scared, she’s beginning to yell
So give her beggin strips and feed her well
More F5 days to come, photo album needs to grow
I’ve got to leave, it’s time for the show

Here I am, rock me like an earthquake
Here I am, rock me like an earthquake

My body is tired, it needs a good rest
Give me 11 quakes, before the 5 minute test
Just gimme 5 winks  before the storm breaks loose
Oh these tornados, earthquakes and flood blues
Dumbphone in hand and I have to go
Looking upwards, yet it’s coming from below
He’s licking his lips, he’s ready to win
The first to post photos, laugh and grin

Here I am, rock me like an earthquake
Here I am, rock me like an earthquake


Blog Blah Syndrome

It is hard to be a writer and an accountant. I would love to leave accounting and taxation forever and be a well known author sitting on a beach and dreaming of my next book. I’ve written three – a trilogy and still waiting for success to arrive. Book 4 is still in edit mode and book 5 about 50% complete. But it’s tax season and I’m stuck in the blahs of blahland Oklahoma, where the winds come sweeping down the plains at 110 mph, making a 50 degree day a negative 60 wind chill. Soon our tornado sirens will be blaring and we will be scrambling to take cover. Blah.

Why did the government create tax season to end on April 15th, why not December 24th? Why don’t they stagger it so we don’t have to be chained to a desk and computer 7 days a week? Whose bright idea was it to create the income tax? I can hear it now, “It will create lots and lots of jobs for lawyers, accountants, printers, suppliers and who knows what else. Yes, yes bring on the income tax system.” And ever since they have tried to simplify it (wink, wink). Yeah right! Tax season even interrupts my blogging. Blah – Blah.

Needless to say I have not written anything humorous as of late because it’s tax season.  Are you laughing right now? I didn’t think so, but don’t blame me. As a matter of fact, buy my books and you can claim you were responsible for there being one less accountant in this world. I dare you! Blah, Blah, Blah.

Then there’s the yard work of spring ahead – pulling weeds, mowing, trimming, and scooping up my Golden Retriever’s fresh and warm poop. Blah, Bluhck, Blah.  Yes, that’s the actual sound I make!

I’ve been doing this now for 29 years. 29 years hearing clients wanting to deduct dogs as dependents, bass boats as entertainment, new bras as support expense, and wondering why my fee doesn’t go down with their refund size. But it gets better!  There are those that call me up and say they did their own return and now the IRS is questioning it. Oh now they want my help!  Afraid not folks, this bean counter and bean planner is shipping out to HAWAII.

Yes, I am moving later this year to live out the remainder of my life where my soul has been crying for ever since I first visited paradise in 1986. They say it will ruin my life READ HERE, but I don’t care, bring on the ruin.  I must cure this blah syndrome I’ve been infected by.  I need to run semi-nude on a warm sandy beach and let the remnants of my hair blow in the trade winds.  I need to make mad passionate Mai Tai’s and little stick animals from driftwood, learn to hula and lose a tire gut.  If you want to hate this humble blogger, well tough Golden Retriever Doo Doo!  I’ll be going on a 2-week due diligence trip shortly after tax season to decide which town to live in.  Then it’s time to sell everything I own except shorts, shirts and slippers (we called them thongs when I was kid) and buy a one-way ticket.

So over the next few weeks, if you get sick of my Hawaii posts, buy my books and you can lay claim that you were responsible to there being one less obnoxious blogger bragging about moving to Hawaii in this world.  It’s okay to hate me now.  Hater!