Rampantly Random Ruminations

Fifth Friday Footnotes, Follow-Ups and Far-Flung Fripperies:
• Many have asked how our front yard neighborhood potluck went. Almost 20 attended the first “Sundays at Six,” plus a half dozen others who sent regrets. I invested only 40 minutes for set-up and 15 minutes of clean-up. It was simple and easy. Why not start one in your neighborhood?
• Fifty two weeks ago today, three Americans were hiking in northern Iraq and wandered into Iran, where they have been held as suspected spies since. I was in almost the same location one year earlier, but didn’t end up in the same spot. Please don’t forget them.
• When did the term “hippie heritage” stop being an oxymoron?
• My son bought a car with heated leather seats. By comparison, I drive a go-cart. I’d say we swapped generational places, except I never had a heated seated place.
• I have reason to believe Market of Choice is in league with some shadowy avocado cartel. How else could they have the lowest prices all the time? I ruled out the theory that they’ve made a pact with the devil. There’s no way Satan would allow all that good Lutheran church music instead of Muzak.
• Is it terrible that I recognize “almond” first as a color, second as a flavor and third as a nut? Yes, I think so.
• I don’t hear as well as I did when I was younger. I hope it’s not just that I care less what people are saying.
• It says something about you, but I don’t know what: if you turn the knob as you close a door.
• I hope someday to be bored enough to read every word on a Dr. Bonner soap container.
• “Nope” is due for a comeback.
• It was fun for a while, but now I feel scolded by the rhythmic “Wait” at our talking crosswalks. Can we record 100 different voices and loop them, like the automated library return slots?
• Next year I might try to watch the entire Eugene Marathon from a midpoint location. If I begin training now, I might have the necessary endurance by May.
• “For Sale” is a strange Britism (is that a word?). Our selling signs should say “Buy Me!”
• I’m beginning to resent when public toilets don’t automatically flush, relying on me to pull a lever. This can’t be good.
• For reasons I can’t explain, finding a parking place that doesn’t require me to back out of it gives me a quiet joy.
• Success and happiness are easily confused, but dangerously so when it’s your own. They share similar soil, but root from different places.
• Any recipe with “mock” in its name I’m likely to enjoy. I realize this says more about me than the recipe.
• You can explain political persuasions best with condiments. He who adds ketchup liberally nurtures a liberal optimism. She who scrimps and saves, leaving mustard for another day is being conservative.
• People who back into their own driveways are trying to tell us something.
• “Don” is both a noun and a verb. Hmmm.
• I’ve made myself hard to figure, not hard to find.
• I don’t “get” licorice. Anise bread at Anatolia is as far as I go.
• My mattress is made of memory foam, whatever that is. I just hope it misses me during the day.
• Some household items should be sold as subscriptions, replenishing themselves automatically. I’m thinking about sponges, flowers and toothbrushes, just for starters.
• Do you clip your toenails with your foot firmly against a surface or with your toes dangling in the air? I’m sorry, but those are the only two options.
• Can a polymath be good at many things, if math is not one of them?
• I hate to admit it, but I started almost enjoying the four-way stop at 29th and Willamette. It was slower, but neighborly. And when I was in a hurry, I could avoid the corner with a little forethought.
• Speech therapists will tell you their success always comes down to three factors: locution, locution, locution.
• Who was Saran and did we ever properly thank him or her for their Wrap?
• When and how did a person’s weight become so completely removed from their choices? If people insist they’re helpless, don’t they often end up hapless?
• Do you know where your hap is?
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Don Kahle (fridays@dksez.com) published the Comic News in Eugene for a decade. Now writes a weekly column for The Register-Guard and blogs, among other things.