Rhino, crotch, satyr, surf / Rinoceronte, entrepierna, sátiro, surf

La versión en español está después de la versión en inglés.

A WHILE BACK, I ORDERED a collection of entertaining animal photo postcards to send to The Kid Brother each week. I lined them up in the order in which I planned to send them. Don’t ask why I felt it was necessary nor how I decided the order. However, today’s postcard is a mother rhino and calf. A funny coincidence after Mary’s recent rhino postcard (yesterday’s post).

My Mother the Dowager Duchess was 5-feet 2-inches tall. Whenever she rinsed the dishes in the kitchen sink, there would come a point when she would mutter, “Oh, shoot!” which we knew meant she had splashed water all over the mid-section (belly) of whatever she was wearing. I’m 6-feet 2-inches tall. Whenever I rinse (or wash) dishes at the kitchen sink, there comes a point when I mutter, “Oh shit!” [to which The Duchess would have said, “Mitchell!”]. Anyway, it’s then you’d know I had splashed water all over my crotch — as I did after lunch today.

Last night, I told The Kid Brother I had plane reservations and would see him at the end of summer. He was elated, which he first indicated by saying, “Oh, good.” It was the most expressionless “Oh good” he could muster. But as the conversation continued, he went through almost every comedy bit he could think of. He was Costello; I was Abbott. He was Perry White; I was Jimmy Olson. He was Chief, and I was Maxwell Smart. He was Gomez Addams and I was Lurch. We spoke for 10 minutes and did routines for 20. One of our longest “conversations.” He was clearly happy about the upcoming visit. I’ll tell you more about it in the coming days — once my head stops rattling.


HACE UN RATO, ORDENÉ UNA colección de entretenidas postales con fotografías de animales para enviar a The Kid Brother cada semana. Los alineé en el orden en que planeaba enviarlos. No preguntes por qué sentí que era necesario ni cómo decidí el pedido. Sin embargo, la postal de hoy es una madre rinoceronte y una cría. Una divertida coincidencia después de la reciente postal de rinoceronte de Mary (publicación de ayer).

Mi Madre la Duquesa Viuda medía 157 cm de altura. Siempre que enjuagaba los platos en el fregadero de la cocina, llegaba un momento en que murmuraba: “¡Oh, shoot!” [Se refería a shit [mierda] pero shoot sonaba similar y era más educada], lo que sabíamos significaba que había salpicado agua por toda la sección media (vientre) de lo que fuera que estuviera usando. Mido 188 cm de altura. Siempre que enjuago (o lavo) platos en el fregadero de la cocina, llega un momento en que murmuro: “¡Oh, shit!” [a lo que La Duquesa habría dicho: “¡Mitchell!”]. De todos modos, entonces sabrías que me había salpicado la entrepierna con agua, como lo hice hoy después del almuerzo.

Anoche, le dije a El Hermanito que tenía reservaciones de avión y que lo vería a fines del verano. Él estaba eufórico, lo que indicó por primera vez diciendo: “Oh, bueno”. Fue el “Oh, bueno” más inexpresivo que pudo reunir. Pero a medida que la conversación continuaba, pasó por momentos casi cada rutina de comedia que podía pensar. Él era Costello; yo era Abbott. Él era Perry White; yo era Jimmy Olson. Él era el jefe y yo era Maxwell Smart. Él era Gomez Addams y yo era Lurch. Hablamos durante 10 minutos e hicimos rutinas durante 20. Una de nuestras “conversaciones” más largas. Claramente estaba feliz. Te contaré más sobre esto en los próximos días — una vez que mi cabeza deje de dar vueltas.

• A real live satyr! [Oops! It’s not a satyr; it’s a centaur!!!]
• ¡Un verdadero sátiro en vivo! [¡Uf! No es un sátiro; es un centauro!!!]

Author: Moving with Mitchell

From Brooklyn, New York; to North Massapequa; back to Brooklyn; Brockport, New York; back to Brooklyn... To Boston, Massachusetts, where I met Jerry... To Marina del Rey, California; Washington, DC; New Haven and Guilford, Connecticut; San Diego, San Francisco, Palm Springs, and Santa Barbara, California; Las Vegas, Nevada; Irvine, California; Sevilla, Spain. And Fuengirola, Málaga..

32 thoughts on “Rhino, crotch, satyr, surf / Rinoceronte, entrepierna, sátiro, surf”

  1. I love your conversations with The Kid Brother. (Actually, I love your whole blog.)
    As for you, I have one word: apron. My dad’s version was a dishtowel tucked into his waistband.

    1. chrissoup:
      Great to see your name! The most recent conversation with The Kid Brother had me laughing. I immediately related much of it to SG.

      Yeah, apron! We used to have an entire collection. We left them all behind, were given two as gifts since arriving in Spain, but I can’t find them. I must have brought them to the charity shop. It burns me to have to buy one now (which is ridiculous since I have no problem WASTING money all over the place).

  2. Nice crotch shot! Sure you splashed water 😉 Love the satyr pic. I now have to look up satyr and centaur because I forgot the difference. KB seems very excited to see you again, Scoot. Nice.

    1. Deedles,
      You saved the day. As soon as I read your comment, I realized that wasn’t a satyr, it was a centaur! Thank you for your wisdom!

      1. That wasn’t wisdom, Scoot. I truly couldn’t remember what a satyr is, except for the general horniness of said critter.
        Centaurs, I knew. Either way, that shadow photo is wonderful! I also now know that rhino is just as hard to pronounce in Spanish as it is in English (not to mention spell. I gave up). That momma and baby are adorable for small tanks.

      2. Deedles:
        I find rinoceronte to be easy to remember and say. Some Spanish words still get stuck on my tongue and I have to pronounce them one syllable at a time.

  3. Ha, the Duchess and I share the exact same height disadvantage…or perhaps, after looking at your pant photo…maybe a wet midsection isn’t quite as disadvantaged as your splash area. Certainly easier to explain. 🙂

    Rhino postcard duo mailings…great minds!

    1. Mary:
      No apron for you? My mother only wore an apron when preparing for a party. I should find another fun one. Quite often, I take out the trash after doing the dishes. Walking across the streets with a soaking wet crotch can be embarrassing. I usually change my pants before going out.

    1. Debra:
      It will make our weekly calls more relaxing and it sure made me happy to listen to him Tuesday.

    1. Wilma:
      Deedles made me realize it was a centaur and not a satyr. The sea goes from mirror-like to wild. And the shoreline has been decimated this year. It usually gently slopes from sand to water, but now as you can see, it’s a huge drop-off and that makes the high surf even wilder. I’m waiting for the truckloads of sand to arrive to grade the beach and the shore again.

  4. Saw the crotch show and thought I’d stopped in at Maddie’s place first!
    Of course, the Kid Brother will be happy to see you. i imagine his comedy stylings work better in person!

    1. Bob:
      I’m so much more discreet than Maddie (the hussy). I wish I could get an entire comedy jag with Chuck on video. But he becomes self-conscious. It’s hilarious… and always a bit off the mark.

  5. I just assumed by the crotch shot you were watching porn again dear! LMAO!!!!!!

    You tow did all those schticks and not one bit from the Honeymooners????

    1. Mistress Maddie:
      I hadn’t thought of it, but you’re right, no Honeymooners this time. It will come. We often dedicate an entire conversation to Ralph and Ed (and I’m always Ed). As for the crotch shot, it was really the sink… I swear. But I was channeling YOU for the photo (although less proudly and with a bit more restraint… ah, to be more like you).

    1. Jim:
      I think I gave 20 aprons to Goodwill before we moved to Spain. And two more to the charity shop (since being here in Fuengirola)… one of those by accident!

  6. I get water all over me every. Single. Time. I wash the dishes by hand. I hate washing dishes by hand, and that’s just one of many reasons why. I always get wet around my midsection (I’m 5’8) so my crotch gets spared…unless I get TOO wild with the water. 🙂

    I’m so happy that you’re going to see the KB. I know he’s also thrilled that you’re coming no matter how cool he tries to act about it! I wish I lived closer to Brooklyn, I’d take you both out for lunch or something.

    1. Jennifer:
      We have a small sink and a dramatic faucet. Not a great match, but it looks nice! Our dishwasher is so small, our dinner plates don’t even fit. So, it’s cleaning supply storage and I do everything by hand. I’ve gotten so used to it, it takes me less time than rinsing, loading and unloading. Chuck did show his enthusiasm. I’m elated. You two I’m sure would like each other!

  7. The dishwasher never splashes me like that. A long chat is a sign if happiness

    1. David:
      If you had THIS dishwasher, he would. Yeah, Chuck was very definitely happy. So was I.

  8. You and your brothers telephone talks are great and maybe sometimes sad ?

    1. Parsnip:
      Our conversations are rarely sad anymore. He’s satisfied with his life and that makes a huge difference. The conversations, for me, are usuallly entertaining and exhausting.

  9. If you ever had a Get Smart post involving your brother, I must have missed it, but I can just imagine him saying, “Would you believe….”

    1. Kirk:
      Yep. He HAS said “Would you believe…” This conversation, as most, included “I told you not to tell me that.”

  10. You need an apron–a white, frilly one like maids wear in classic movies. Interesting to learn how Chuck expresses happiness.


    1. Janie:
      I need a black apron with lace trim… like one I saw in Greenwich Village in the ’70s on a roller skater. I was looking for a parking spot. I saw the French maid in my rearview mirror. She was even carrying a serving tray. She skated past me and I saw that HE was bare-ass naked under the apron.

      1. Well, of course you wouldn’t actually wear anything under the apron. That’s the whole idea BEHIND a cute, frilly apron.

      2. Janie:
        I can still remember that particular French maid’s behind, too.

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