For those of you who are - er - "seasoned" enough, you may remember the little ditty about putting a tiger in your tank from our friends at Esso/Exxon. You may even share my fascination with 1960's commercials (if one were to watch more than an afternoon of cartoons which often spread into evenings with "monkees," genies, and suburban witches, one could - and would - become quite an expert on such intellectually stimulating offers as "put a tiger in your tank," "take it off, take it all off," and "I can't believe I ate the whole thing.")
It was during those long forays into whimsical situations and shows about spies, wild animals, and beauty pageants that I learned a thing or two about " real life." (You do realize that if it was/is on TV, it must be true!)
As a wee lass (you believe me, right?), I vaguely remember some of those catchy phrases from my halcyon days of yesteryear. And, one day not too long ago, I finally understood that if I wanted to get my "get up and go" I needed to put an undoubtedly less-than-happy large striped feline into my "gas" tank. (Images of Harry Potter Band-Aids are filling my head at the moment. And not for the feline, in case you were wondering.) (But bless your heart for being concerned about the monster cat and not me.) (Really, it's ok.) (Sniff)
Ideas have been stacking up, waiting for an appointment in my head and my grey matter, and my life, are finally open for business! Stay tuned!
Shall we all celebrate? RIght now I am raising my glass of Dom Perignon to you! Thanks for waiting for me!