Take My Zucchini, Please

By Lynn Rebuck –

It’s that time of the summer when I don’t know what to do with all of the zucchini growing in my garden. We cannot eat it as fast as it grows.  It seems like the innocent plants I bought at a local greenhouse and planted in my yard went from zero to zucchini overnight.  And it’s not only that these plants are prolific.

If you turn away for a second, the normal-sized zucchini that was on the plant a moment earlier grows to gargantuan size.  Now what am I to do with it?  I’ve given zucchini to the mailman, the dentist, and every person that walks past my house.  The other day I chased down a jogger just to provide one that he could use to ward off stray dogs.

My family has endured every culinary variation of zucchini.   I have made zucchini mousse, zucchini gelatin, and zucchini cupcakes. Those didn’t go over well with the 6-year olds at the birthday party.  I invented the zucchini split, complete with three scoops of zucchini ice cream, whipped cream, and a cherry tomato on top.  I do make one recipe that my family likes. I bake a combination of banana bread and zucchini bread.  I call it “Bikini Bread.”  The recipe is on my website, www.LynnRebuck.com.

I’ve even tried paying my debts with zucchini. The other day I handed the clerk a large zucchini to pay for my groceries.  She handed me some patty pan squash as change.

If you’re also overwhelmed by the abundance of zucchini in your garden, here are some suggestions for what to do with all of it:

Throw a zucchini skin care party, complete with squash facials and a slice of zucchini over each eye to remove puffiness (zucchini is the new cucumber).

Forget about T-ball and sign your kid up for the latest zucchini-inspired little league craze, Z-ball.  One child hit a three-run homer with a homegrown 23-inch zucchini.

Weave some strings through a couple of the broader ones, get a small ball, and play squash.

To deter automobile theft, place a large zucchini across your steering wheel.  Tell your friends it is the new green version of the “The Club,” then give them one for their car.

Make new friends who don’t have a garden.  Give them a zucchini gift basket.

If all else fails, you can do with your zucchini harvest what someone did a few years back with their garbage during a New York City garbage collection strike.  Unable to get rid of it, they wrapped it as a gift and left it in their unlocked car overnight.  Someone stole it.

Remember my new motto: “Speak softly, and carry a big zucchini.”

© 2011 Lynn Rebuck

Red, White and True

By Lynn Rebuck –

I like to dress in patriotic colors on the Fourth of July, but I may have overdone it a bit this year with my red, white, and blue attire. I had no idea how flaglike I appeared until I nearly got run up a flagpole, was saluted several times, and when I bent over to pick up a Frisbee at the park someone nearby asked a fellow picnicker, “Did a previous president pass away?”

My heart is in the right place. I am a deeply patriotic American, proudly patriotic Pennsylvanian (what’s not to love about the cradle of liberty, birthplace of independence, and home of the cheese steak), and I wear my country’s colors with pride. They just happen to be bright colors. If the Founding Fathers had gone with beige or mauve, I wouldn’t look quite so garish each year.

Thanks to the high heat on the holiday, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if some of the main characters in our nation’s history were making their bold moves on behalf of our freedom with the benefit of the technology of today.

Betsy Ross, who was making flags in competition with other revolutionary seamstresses, would probably take out ads on Facebook asking fans to vote for their favorite flag design.

Thomas Jefferson would likely have Twittered from inside Independence Hall: “Long day. These guys can’t agree on anything. More rewrites.”

No doubt Benjamin Franklin would sell stoves on Craigslist, peddle bifocals on eBay, and post daily to his “Poor Richard’s Blog.” Ben Franklin would be the darling of Twitter, with his pithy, wise, and humorous tweets of 140 characters or less.

Lititz, Pennsylvania, has its own history within the history of the holiday. The Independence Day celebration in Lititz is apparently the longest-running continuous Fourth of July celebration in the country. I believe it was started in 1775, before Jefferson even jotted down his outline for the Declaration of Independence on the back of the Constitution in ink only visible to Nicolas Cage.

I love celebrating the Fourth of July in Lititz, but I was taken by surprise when three Boy Scouts swept me off my feet and attempted to fold me up into a triangle at the end of the day. Next year I think I’ll wear khaki.

© 2011 Lynn Rebuck

 

Fast Time and Fast Food

By Lynn Rebuck –

I have long admired the Amish. Recently, I learned yet one more reason to respect them: some pay no mind to daylight savings time.

A friend who used to drive for the Amish (a car, not a team of mules) told me that when arranging pickup times, the Amish would inquire whether the pickup time she stated was “fast time” or “slow time.”

Fast time is how the Amish refer to our odd practice of changing the time arbitrarily based on the calendar and someone’s bright (no pun intended) idea.

Clearly, Fast Times at Amish High has a whole different meaning than at Ridgemont High.

It seems that the cows belonging to the Amish pay no regard to the man-made ritual of time change and prefer to give their milk as previously scheduled.

This year I was reminded that the great state of Arizona also shows udder disregard (okay, pun intended that time) for the switch to daylight savings.

So why is Arizona so rebellious? Do they just like to make it difficult for airline travelers who panic about making it to their Phoenix connecting flights in time?

To complicate things even further, the Navajo Nation, which is located within the boundaries of Arizona, follows daylight saving. However, the Hopi Nation, which is surrounded by the Navajo Nation, does not.

So, if you are hoping to pick up a Hopi friend in Arizona soon after the switch to daylight savings, you’d better take extra care in coordinating schedules. It is possible that preceding predicament may wind up as a word question in a math textbook.

Hawaii doesn’t change the clock either. They are still “hanging ten” while the rest of us are hanging eleven or twelve.

So what gives these states the freedom to regulate their own time? Well, states have the right to opt out of daylight savings under the federal Uniform Time Act of 1966. They need only pass a state law to do so, as Arizona and Hawaii have done.

In 1987, an extension to daylight savings time was enacted as part of another federal bill. What was the driving force behind that change?

French fries.

Yes, you read that right.  French fries.

What’s the connection? To find out, email me at Lynn@LynnRebuck.com.

Well, it’s time for me to go change the clocks. I think I’ll set them back another hour instead of springing forward. I could use the extra sleep.

Lynn Rebuck is an award-winning Christian humor columnist, speaker, and comedian.  She was once asked to be the keynote speaker at a silent retreat. Her column/blog appears weekly in print, online, and on Amazon Kindle.  For more of her humor, visit www.LynnRebuck.com, email her at Lynn@LynnRebuck.com, fan her on Facebook, and follow her on Twitter. © 2011 Lynn Rebuck

Jingle Bills

By Lynn Rebuck –

On the verge of a holiday spending spree and under the deadline pressure of unfinished Christmas shopping (okay, unstarted Christmas shopping is a more honest description), I write my annual Christmas column.

Please know that I will be at the mall Christmas Eve until it closes, surrounded by men who are shopping for their wives.  As the only woman shopper in the store, I will be asked numerous times for advice by these men.

My hope is that men will read this column before they go shopping, saving me time and saving them embarrassment on Christmas morning.  So here’s my advice for last-minute male shoppers:

No matter how supportive your wife is of your fishing or hunting hobby, she does not want an electronic fish that sings or a moose that dances.  No amount of justification will overcome the resentment of your purchasing season tickets to your favorite team “for her.”

Blenders are not sexy. Unless she has specifically, and in writing, directed you to purchase an appliance for her, stay out of the kitchen department.  Jewelry is a wonderful gift, but selecting it can be sometimes confusing.  There are numerous metals and stones to choose from, as well as different settings, cuts, and clasps. When in doubt, buy her the more expensive piece (ladies you can thank me later).

Do not buy her pierced earrings unless her ears are pierced.  If you have been married longer than two minutes, you should know this about her.  The item you selected is indicative of how much you know and care about her.

If you don’t know what size clothing your wife wears, don’t guess. Buy her jewelry instead.  No matter how tempting the sale may seem, do not buy a woman shoes.  Women seldom like practical gifts.  Do not, under any circumstances, buy a storm door for her, no matter how long she’s been mentioning it.

Fancy wrapping cannot cover an insincere gift (I think I read that in a fortune cookie once).  If the ink is still wet when she reads your Christmas card, you will be penalized.

Remember, before wrapping a gift remove the price tag.  A woman will not be impressed when handed an item that has been marked down several times over.  Don’t tell her how much money you saved on her present.  Tell your buddies and tell your Facebook friends, but don’t tell her.

Lynn Rebuck is an award-winning Christian humor columnist, speaker, and comedian. Check out her humor video “Two Nights Before Christmas” on her website, www.LynnRebuck.com. It’s a modern telling of the classic poem, told from a woman’s point of view.  Lynn would love to hear from you, so please leave a comment or you can email her at LynnRebuck@gmail.com. © 2010 Lynn Rebuck

Times Are, Uh, Changing

By Lynn Rebuck –

I was on time for church Sunday. It was purely coincidental. It is that rare annual event that happens only on the unique fall morning that we are to set our clocks back one hour to end Daylight Savings Time.

I under-slept Sunday morning and ended up arriving fifteen minutes early for church. At first I was startled by the number of cars pulling into the parking lot. Next I was overwhelmed by the selection of parking spaces available. When I walked into the near-deserted building, I was fascinated by the rows of empty seats.

Mind you, I would adjust my watch to the correct time if I could, but it seems the people who wrote the miniaturized instruction leaflet are the same ones who inscribed the entire Bible on the head of a pin.

Here we are days past the shift in the time-space continuum, and not all of my clocks are adjusted. My kitchen stove claims one time, my car professes another, and my DVD player still innocently blinks midnight.

I am convinced that the old song by the band Chicago, “Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?” (which you will likely hum for the rest of the day now that I’ve mentioned it), was written just after the switch from Daylight Savings Time.

Yesterday I went watch shopping. The clerk approached me as I gazed at the timepieces in the case. “Can I help you find something?” she asked helpfully.

“Yes, I’d like to get a new watch,” I said.

“What features are you looking for?”

“It has to be accurate,” I replied.

“All of our watches keep time very well,” she said proudly. “Perhaps I can interest you in this one that is waterproof to a depth of ten meters.”

“Do I look like I dive for abalone? I only need one that’s waterproof to the depth of my washing machine,” I replied. My eyes kept searching the hopeful faces in the case.

Finally, I spotted it. “I’ll take that one there,” I said, pointing to a purple-faced watch that had a band larger than a collar for a St. Bernard.

“Which one, this one?” she asked, and then proceeded to tease me by touching every watch surrounding the watch I had selected. (I have found this to be a favorite game of jewelry store salespeople.)

She accidentally brushed the box of my chosen timepiece and I excitedly yelled, “That’s the one!”

“My,” she said, “you really seem to like this watch. It is an excellent choice, as it has a dual alarm, international time zones, a backlight, chronograph, split-lap stopwatch, is waterproof to 50 meters, and can even withstand severe shocks.”

“Severe shocks like being driven by your teenager? Great, I’ll take it.”

“Why did you choose this one?” she asked.

“It has the correct time on it.”

She rang up the sale and I snatched the bag from her hand. As I headed for the door I called back over my shoulder, “See you in the spring!”

Lynn Rebuck is an award-winning humor columnist, comedian, and speaker. She once tried to adjust a sun dial for Daylight Savings Time. Read her humor blog on www.LynnRebuck.com, fan her on Facebook, follow her on Twitter, and email her at LynnRebuck@gmail.com no matter what time it is. © 2010 Lynn Rebuck

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