Famous Toms: Stankus
Allegedly: Stankus, Tom. No relation.
I was sitting around holding my eyelids open and trying to shoot tiddlywinks inside when I had an idea. “My name is Tom. Who are other people named Tom?”
Yes. It is time for this blog to get all educational up in your grill. I am proud to present a new irregular ongoing series entitled Famous Toms From History.
First up is someone named Stankus. Yes, that’s Tom Stankus, you brainiac. You catch on fast.
Who’s Sheetin’ Who?!
Let’s Do It Kroc-Style: Boom Like That!
History is written by the victors.
–Winston S. Churchill
I have this personal pet theory. It goes a little something like this:
What do I mean by this? It’s time for a tale of hungry dogs, drowning by garden hose, buxom secretaries, altered birth certificates and who’s car is parked next door.
Archaeological Institute of Abyss
Our scientists have made an interesting discovery: A hand-scrawled message, on a piece of yellowed and ruled piece of parchment, that we have dated as being approximately 10 years old.
There are a few interesting facts about this artifact:
- The artifact must be about 10 years old because, at the time of her wedding, my wife did, in fact, have a ring. This is proof the parchment predates the wedding.
- I had the prescience of thought to carefully preserve the artifact and keep it safe all this time. I must have recognized the cultural significance.
- No cameras from that time period are known to exist. Perhaps we’ll never know what prompted the author to put pen to paper.
- My wife’s bare finger is simply not that interesting.
Few artifacts from that time period are known to exist. As such we’ll be forwarding the piece on to the Smithsonian, NASA, Martha Stewart or any organization willing to accept it and keep it on display for the public to enjoy. We’re open to suggestions if they all turn us down.
So this is Christmas
Ah. Christmas morning. Most of the drama and family fights are now officially in the books so it’s a nice, quiet foggy morning (no snow) to pause and reflect about what it all really means.
Scratch that. I’ve got a blog to run!
I thought I’d engage Ghost Protocol and revisit some blogs of Christmas past. What’s my Abyss trend on this particular day of the year?
Last year, on Christmas 2012, I went freestyle and blathered about what it means to be offended. Obviously I was thinking the big thoughts. For me, that pretty much covers any thought that isn’t, “Hey, look. A tweet!” Long story short, the post was about my boss. Surprise.
Digging deep, I pulled up the post from Christmas 2011. This one was about road rage, cigarettes thrown out of car windows by thoughtless drivers, my wife flipping the bird at some teens, and a flashback about some miscreants throwing a burger at my car. Good times!
For Christmas 2010 things went slightly against the grain. For that was the year I published the headline, “Tom B. Taker dies in helicopter accident.” It ran with a photograph of my new remote control helicopter crashed on the roof of the house. Boy, was my wife mad. It turned out to be one of my most visited posts ever. What, I wonder, should I infer from that?
Finally, all the way back on Christmas 2009, I posted the heartwarming Christmas tale that I called, “How does a rat get in your toilet?”
I couldn’t find any Christmas day posts published on my blog before 2009. Apparently, before then, I was a bit more normal.
My point is that by studying my post history on previous Christmas days, I hope it is clear like a shining beacon of light for all to see the humility, reverence and grace with which I have approached this most important day.
I hope yours is a good one!
First Thanksgiving: Smoke Gets In Your What What?
The wrong kind of Bellows although, in a pinch, he could probably still get the job done.
Remember learning about history in K-12? I don’t remember much but when it comes to the first Thanksgiving a few images do come to mind. The following paragraph is pieced together relying solely on my recollections.
The Pilgrims and the Native Americans came together for a feast. The Pilgrims wore funny brown hats topped with a column adorned with a belt buckle. There was maize. There was jellied cranberry sauce featuring distinctive rings from an aluminum can. There was even pumpkin pie. There was a horn of plenty that provided a veritable cornucopia of magical fresh fruits and vegetables. And, of course, last but not least, there was turkey aplenty that looked a lot like simple outline drawings of my hand.
Have you ever experienced that moment when you realized history class left a lot of things out? It was decidedly not the place to go if you wanted the big picture. Or an unvarnished viewpoint free of bias that didn’t accentuate a certain narrative. No doubt there were time constraints or contractual obligations?
My exhaustive (you’ll get this pun after the jump) research turned up something else that was given to the Pilgrims. It wasn’t on the dinner table, perhaps, but I’m sure it was still something to be very thankful for.
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Killing Time
Just how far am I willing to go for you, the intrepid reader? Oh how you’ve been made to suffer. I decided to do you a solid. Hey, it’s my way of saying thanks for being here. But how? Where and when?
The opportunity at time travel recently fell into my lap. The dictates of the space-time continuum prohibit me from saying how exactly, but I can say this much: It was a one-time opportunity and I take some time to think about how to use it wisely.
I proceeded with caution. After all, I wouldn’t want to be responsible for the utter destruction of the entire universe. At least that’s what I thought at the time. On second thought, it would get a bunch of assholes permanently out of my hair. Hmmm.
No! Don’t even think it! Stick to the objective. This is about my reader, not personal satisfaction. This is no time to be more narcissistic than usual.
Formulating a plan, I knew the limits of the trip. It would be a quick jump a mere 24 hours into the future. I’d literally be a man before my time. And I resolved to make the most of it.
There had to be a way to give my reader a little payback. I resolved to find a way how. If only I had more time…
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Shouts from the Abyss 
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