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Articles by Ernie Witham
Scan Me Scan Me Good
Someone asked me in my humor workshop once, what attributes are needed to come up with columns on a regular basis. I told them it helps to be a klutz, because pain plus time plus distance equals humor. I also told them it really pays to have insurance. Another great thing about being uncoordinated, I told them, is you get to experience the miracles of modern medicine, plus they often reward you with drugs.
Lobster Tales - Montecito
We took the table in the corner looking out. It’s not because I’m worried about East Coast Mafioso figures coming to rub me out, or DEA agents wondering why I smell like a hemp field on fire (those days are but a mere pipe dream now), it’s just that I like to observe the everyday goings-on when I’m on vacation. Today I watched as a couple sat down at the picnic table in front of us – indoor picnic tables are big here as fine dining consists of sea creatures and beer. The man had a cold drink.
Some Assembly Required
Ernie braves the instruction manual After I needed help getting out of our sagging couch for the umpteenth time, I said yes to my wife’s suggestion we shop for a new one. This was not easy for me. I’m a big believer in longevity, super glue and duct tape. When Pat and I got married one stipulation was that none of my existing furniture would be allowed in our new house. She said it was a safety factor with the kids and all, but I think she just didn’t like bean bags.
A Tree-People Weekend
Many years ago, in a land far, far away (New Hampshire), one of my neighbors told me that the reason his yard was so healthy was that he talked to his plants every day. I laughed. “Do they talk back?” I asked. “Ayup,” he said. I went home, locked the front door, and said to my ficus, laughingly, “feel like a little confab?” “No,” it said, “but I could really use a drink.” That was the day I gave up prescription nasal spray.
App-titude Test - Montecito
I decided to buy the latest iPhone. Mine was so old that Siri could no longer remember stuff. “Siri, where’s a good place to get a burger and fries.” “Hi Eddie. I’d suggest Howard Johnson’s.” “I think they went out of business.” “Whoa! Don’t tell President Nixon. He loves their sarsaparilla.” So, off I went to the Apple Store where things went swimmingly… sort of. “Yes! We have the model you want, your credit card has been approved, and this will only take a few moments, as advertised.
“Baby Got Back... Problems.”
Okay, my version probably won’t do well on the hip-hop music charts, but I think it will resonate with some readers on the hip-lumbar charts. It all started one morning at breakfast when my wife said: “My back is killing me.” Being a sympathetic guy, I suggested she call the police and report a sacroiliac slayer on the loose. As this is a family paper I can’t print her exact response to my clever quip here, but let’s just say it involved some of these: #$%&^%$*&%.
Time Trials - Montecito
Except for the overly loud, vapor-spewing Southwest jets, flying-lesson prop planes doing multiple touch-and-goes, and that obnoxious Osprey that sounds like two helicopters in a weird sexual entanglement, it’s nice being close to Santa Barbara Airport. Even though we had a 6:23 am flight, we knew we could be at the airport in less than 10 minutes. And we had arranged for someone to pick up our car.
From Zero to a Hundred-Ten
There are days when the most exciting things my wife and I do are Wordle… “Got it in four.” Ha! I got it in three.” Well, just wait until tomorrow.” Dispense boxes of cereal into their new “ant-proof” plastic vaults… “Raisin Bran done.” “Check.” “Special K done.” “Check.” “Cheerios… ah, dang. Broom.” “Check.” And maybe look at the temperature on the iPhone weather app… “Gonna hit 70 today. Chance of a cloud.” “A cloud.
Waiting for My Medal Round
Watching the Paris Olympics has really inspired me, especially the swimming and diving events. “O-M-G! Are you wearing a Speedo?” my wife asked, a small hunk of baguette falling from the corner of her mouth. “Cool huh? Got it from the ‘Old Dudes Rule’ website. It’s a limited edition.” “Very limited. And, I hate to ask, but did you shave your legs?” “Well duh.
How to Prepare for a Writers Conference
I spend a lot of time alone in my office. It gives me time to contemplate the oddities of life. Like why my printer suddenly refused to print the workshop materials I needed to bring to the Santa Barbara Writers Conference. No matter how calmly I coaxed it – “You stupid #%&^#*^%#! I ought to take your cheap plastic butt straight to recycling.” – it ignored me. “Did I hear you say you are going to recycling?” My wife yelled from the other room.
Doing Shots - Montecito
When I first moved to California, I met a bunch of friendly people my own age who lovingly indoctrinated me into local customs. “Welcome to Santa Barbara. Let’s do some shots. Now, lick the salt off your hand, down this tequila, suck a lime, and say ‘hootah.’” Turns out, these ancient local traditions often involved Mexican booze. “You are so lucky. You get the last swig of Mezcal, amigo. It’s a good omen to swallow the worm at the bottom.” “Good for whom? I’m guessing not the worm.
No Doors? No Problem...
Ride with a view – just not doors That surely can’t be it I thought, as we walked across the tarmac toward a Volkswagen Beetle on skis with a long purple tail and a spinning propeller on top! I looked at Pat. She was zipping up her sweatshirt and adjusting the flotation device strapped around her waist… “We will be flying over water,” they told us at the staging area explaining how to operate the device. The brochure hadn’t mentioned water landings. There were four of us.
Are You Looking at Me!
Many times in life I have gone virtually unnoticed. Not only could I stay safely under the radar, I could have set up camp inside a radar dish and only gotten spotted when I fired up my charcoal grill. “O. M. G. There’s a flaming meteor about to hit earth… ah crap, never mind it’s just whatshisname again.” In kindergarten, I didn’t have to worry about losing at musical chairs because I never had a chair to begin with, or milk, or a pillow at naptime.
I’m Dreaming of a White Elephant...
This year, X-mas, formerly known as Twitter-mas, is “almost” failure-proof for me. How is that possible you readers of my Christmases past, want to know? Simple, three wise men (actually, it was my stepdaughter, Christy) proclaimed that the only gift required this year is one white elephant gift! For those of you unfamiliar with the ancient ritual of the white elephant gift, it kinda goes like this… Many, many eves ago, a strange white elephant appeared in a tiny village in a land far, far away.
Training Days. Sacré Bleu!
The driverless Metro flew into the station and stopped on a euro. The doors opened. There were so many Parisians crammed into the front car, I thought it might have been an AI-generated crowd image. Trois got off. Dix got on. Including moi. Yeah! But not my wife. Oh-oh! She mouthed, “See you at Saint-Sulpice.” I mouthed back, “What?” But the train started and Pat disappeared. I could only hope she remembered me. And called the Paris lost and found. I looked at the station map above the door.
Walking the Walk and Talking the Walk
Ernie halfway through an idea for a new story After my first date with an attractive young woman named Pat, she told a friend that she’d never met a guy who talked as much as I did! My strategy was to regale her with as many stories about myself as I could think of in hopes that something I said was clever and endearing. Must have worked, she married me, though she did ask to read my vows before the wedding, as she said we only had the venue for five hours or so and guests would want time to eat.
Glass Ceilings, Glass Floors, Wine, and Hot Dogs
Bottoms up: Wine was the order of the day at the Space Needle, where the author was literally floored by glass “Wow, what a view, huh?” my wife said. “Nice,” I said, leaning against the wall as far away from the tall glass panels that slanted outward at a disturbing angle and had a gap on either side large enough to put your arm through. A family walked by, a little kid climbed up onto the bench, which also slants outward, and looked down through the gap.
Lots of Cones, but No Ice Cream
I was at my computer looking at one of the local online news services when I spotted an exciting headline. “There’s no construction scheduled on Hollister Ave. today,” I yelled to my wife. Pat ran into the kitchen and grabbed the car keys. “To the waterfront for lunch and ice cream,” she said in a sing-songy voice. A new message popped up. The first word was “Retraction.” Dang.
Ernie's World Archives - Montecito
Want more? Enjoy the Morning MoJo newsletter twice weekly! Subscribe to the Montecito Journal’s Morning MoJo newsletter and get local news delivered to your inbox twice weekly. Writing with Chatty With ChatGPT Funny, I always thought of myself as having artificial intelligence. Maybe it’s because people often say to me: “Come on, man.
Columnists Archives - Montecito
Want more? Enjoy the Morning MoJo newsletter twice weekly! Subscribe to the Montecito Journal’s Morning MoJo newsletter and get local news delivered to your inbox twice weekly. Running Wild To most of us, Civilization is where it’s at and – as a general rule – any alternative is less preferable.
Writing with Chatty
Want more? Enjoy the Morning MoJo newsletter twice weekly! Subscribe to the Montecito Journal’s Morning MoJo newsletter and get local news delivered to your inbox twice weekly. With ChatGPT Funny, I always thought of myself as having artificial intelligence. Maybe it’s because people often say to me: “Come on, man.
Where’s Ernie? Noah to be Seen
It finally arrived! Freighter delays, they said. Lack of experienced labor. Cost overruns. Sound familiar? But a giant truck pulled up in front of our condo today and delivered my IKEA easy-to-assemble, all-parts-included, fully-illustrated-plans-provided… ark. That’s right! I’m going to save the world from the great flood! Or, at least a few hundred people from Santa Barbara and their ark-broken pets. I opened the box closest to me. It contained pre-addressed return labels, which I tossed to one side.
Getting Into History
There are several things I dread hearing when I’m on a docent-led excursion. “If anyone here is acrophobic, you may want to reconsider today’s steep hike up Mountain Goat Trail.” Or… “If anyone here is aquaphobic, you may want to skip the kayak experience down ‘Devil’s Muse Rapids.’” But I wasn’t worried today. We were on a dry hillock, surrounded by sane-looking people. We’d had a jaunty bus ride with a historian telling us all about the Boyne Valley, which lulled me right into a nap.
It’s Illegal in Alaska…
…to drop a moose from an airplane. Seriously! It’s the law. Apparently, the Moose Union is strong up north and parachutes are not. How did this law come about you may wonder? Years ago, a small town in Alaska came up with a contest that involved painting a bunch of moose poo(s?), putting numbers on the moose poo, and dropping the moose poo from an airplane.
Pat and Ernie’s Wild Ride
…proceed to the route… proceed to the route… proceed to the route. I took out my gun and I shot Siri. “Actually, it’s against the rental car company’s policy to shoot holes in the dashboard,” my wife informed me. “According to page 15 of the rental form, they charge extra for that.” I looked at the GPS map on the screen. It was turning 180 degrees to the left, then 180 degrees to the right, then left, then right …proceed to the route… proceed to the route. “How much extra?” I asked.
A (Mostly) Truthful Tall Tale
I’ve always wanted to be taller – I still remember getting measured for my high school graduation robe. “Five feet, eleven and three-quarters inch,” the gown guy yelled out to the gown sizing note taker. “Come on,” I said. “Put me down for six feet, willya?” But no. Gown measuring administrators take their measurements seriously. Heaven forbid that my Sachem’s gown might be a quarter-inch too long. Sachem? You ask… That’s right, we were the Laconia High School Sachems.
Looking for the Best Pot
Bonsai pot, that is. I gave up the other kind of pot when my last lava lamp died. “Dude, Check it out. I think it’s just as groovy when it doesn’t do anything.” “Righteous.” I sold all my bongs at a yard sale. “Excuse me, did you use reverse osmosis water in this one or purified distilled?” “Ah, I used that French one — la tap.” “Cool. I’ll take it.” I stopped wearing sunglasses at night. “Wow! Unpolarized people are strange.” “Yeah. And way too bright.” And I quit buying Visine by the case.
Live Well. Laugh Often.
I was staring blankly at a shelf in the garage. I’d been on a quest for something when I left the house some 15 steps earlier, but my mind stopped working at about step 12. I moved some boxes around for inspiration. That’s when I found the Monopoly game. It was an early edition. Still had the thimble, the boot, and the wheelbarrow tokens. They were voted out in 2017 and replaced by T-Rex, a penguin, and a rubber ducky. Wonder if the thimble contested the vote. I sighed.
Just Coasting Along... - Montecito
You never know what huge, unusual things you might see when you go to a new beach (that’s new, not nude). “Wow! Looks like that ship sank just before it got to the pier!” We were in Aptos. That’s not a stunned condition, it’s a small beach community just south of Santa Cruz. We were there to explore a unique part of California, seek out strange and exotic things, and visit relatives. “You made it sound like the relatives are strange and exotic,” Pat said. “You should reword that.” “Hmm.
I Have Some Gripes. Is There an App for That?
Lately, technology irritates me. It’s not just because I can’t remember all (or any) of my 1,200 passwords. “It’s getting late dear, maybe you should call it a night.” “Nope. Technology is not beating me again.” I typed in zzzzzzz9999999 and waited. The password window hesitated and then… it shook from side to side indicating wrong. I took out my 12-gauge shotgun and aimed at the computer. “You can’t shoot a shotgun in your office, dear, it’s against the condo association bylaws.
Summertime and the Living is Freezing
“Holy ice cubes, Batman,” I said, as a breeze wafted its way up my shorts. “Fifty-seven degrees?” my wife said. “It was in the 70s when we left Oakland Hills.” “Guess it’s like Mark Twain said: ‘The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco.’” “Experts claim that Mark Twain never actually said that,” Pat said. “Yeah?
Water Sight to Behold
I nodded at the approaching hikers. “We’re the official counters,” I said. Pat, sitting beside me, pretended to log it into her phone. There was a steady stream of hikers both coming and going, but we weren’t really counters of course. And the only thing officially we were – was out of breath. We were on a steep part of the trail up to Vernal Falls in Yosemite National Park, which climbs about a thousand feet in a little over a mile.
A Season Cliffhanger
Early on in the drive, I was thinking I should have brought my thermal underwear. And my gloves. Now I was thinking I should have upped my life insurance. “There’s no one behind us. You don’t have to go too fast.” “I’m doing 20 miles per hour,” Pat said, without turning her head. Her knuckles were colorless, and she was gripping the steering wheel so tightly I thought she might leave handprints that even Armor All Heavy Duty Cleanser couldn’t get rid of. We were on our way to Yosemite National Park.
A Pain in the Neck
Want more? Enjoy the Morning MoJo newsletter twice weekly! Subscribe to the Montecito Journal’s Morning MoJo newsletter and get local news delivered to your inbox twice weekly. For five nights, my wife and I slept in the guestroom, while relatives slept in our room. “This bed is too hard. My back is killing me,” Pat said. “How are you holding up?” I could have said: “Fine.
Pinterest-aholic - Montecito
Want more? Enjoy the Morning MoJo newsletter twice weekly! Subscribe to the Montecito Journal’s Morning MoJo newsletter and get local news delivered to your inbox twice weekly. Hi. My name is Ernie… “Hi Ernie!” …and I am a Pinterest-aholic. It has been 12 days, 5 hours, and 31 minutes since my last Pinterest purchase. (Light applause.) Thank you. A plastic vase you can stick on your refrigerator. Just one of the many items Ernie cannot resist on Pinterest.
Come On, Baby, Do the Mashed Potato
Want more? Enjoy the Morning MoJo newsletter twice weekly! Subscribe to the Montecito Journal’s Morning MoJo newsletter and get local news delivered to your inbox twice weekly. No doubt, this year we have had the stuffing knocked out of us. The coronavirus squashed any hopes of a normal year. The economy sank like a lead gravy boat. And we had a turkey in the… “Wait. Are you really going to make us suffer through a Thanksgiving pun column?” “Of course not, dear.
Who Was That Masked Man?
Want more? Enjoy the Morning MoJo newsletter twice weekly! Subscribe to the Montecito Journal’s Morning MoJo newsletter and get local news delivered to your inbox twice weekly. I have a new respect for superheroes, bandits, and anyone else who wears a mask for a living.
Cleanliness is Next to Buddha-ness
“Are you chewing gum?!” Pat asked. “Hai!” I said, using one of the many (three) Japanese words I knew. We were standing next to The Great Buddha of Kamakura “Daibutsu”, the largest outdoor Buddha in Japan. Built in 1252, the 44-foot-tall, 121-ton seated Buddha draws more tourists than the world’s largest ball of saved wire ties in Cornhole, Iowa. Daibutsu wasn’t always outdoors. The hall which housed him was blown away by strong winds a couple times in the 1300s, a bad century for winds, apparently.
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