Know thyself!
Leading to: What this country has been needing?
Rusty of St. Paul reports: “Subject: Holey undies.
“I am the son of parents who grew up in the Depression. I heard a lot of ‘Waste not, want not’ while growing up, and most of it still makes sense to me. While I do wash gently soiled sheets of tin foil so I can reuse them, I draw the line at clothes-pinning them to the clothesline to dry, as my mother did.
“Thus, it makes perfect sense that I get years of use out of my cotton underwear, even long after they have developed holes in them. As long as the holes are not in areas of vital protection, why not wear them?
“My wife is often on my case about them. ‘Goodness gracious, Rusty! Rag-bag those!’
“My line in the underwear sand: When I can put my entire fist through the hole between the elastic waistband and the body of the briefs, then it is time to retire them.
“At least my wife doesn’t pull out the line about ‘Would you wear those to the doctor?’ I worked in the emergency room for 34 years and saw many pairs of underwear in advanced states of decay, and I think that fact was the last thing on the minds of the sick or injured patients. I will say we did de-pants a guy once to evaluate him, and while his briefs were in perfect shape, the front had a saying printed on it: ‘Home of the Whopper!’
“I pretty much hate to go clothes shopping. (Hey! Maybe that has a lot to do why I have holey underwear). Earlier this month, my wife and I went on my every-fifth-year trip to that big mall to buy some gifts, and I decided I might as well buy some undies.
“We went to a department store, were having trouble locating the undie section and had to ask a worker on the floor who was folding men’s clothing. He told me there were hidden way in the back near the elevators. (Yes, they were.)
“I told him that I was looking for the ones that come with pre-made holes in them. He looked at me like I had three eyeballs! ‘Um, I don’t think we carry those.’
“Here is where I’m going to leak my new idea that will make me a million dollars. I’m certain no Bulletin Boarders will steal it.
“We have all seen those brand-new women’s jeans that have pre-ripped holes in them. (That would be a real head-scratcher for my Depression mother. If her daughter had bought those home, she would have immediately patched them.)
“Well, my voilà moment is to design, manufacture and sell pre-ripped underwear! Men and Ladies — for the ladies, at least, to wear under their pre-ripped jeans.”
The Permanent Maternal Record
Plus: Know thyself! (Windfall Division)
The Doryman of Prescott, Wisconsin: (1) “Subject: Waste not, etc., etc.
“I just took a stick of butter out of the fridge — and like every time I’ve ever replaced butter in the dish, I remember my mother using the wrappers to grease her glass baking dishes.”
(2) “I don’t need a thing, except . . .
“If I ever win the lottery, there will be no fleets of vehicles, no new monstrous home, no world cruises. The first thing I’ll do is hire a full-time woodworking-shop assistant to sit quietly on a stool in the corner and whose only duty is to change band-saw blades.
“Then, only after that, someone to dance and play cards for me.”
Could be verse!
Eos writes: “Subject: The Sneeze.
“‘A modicum of decorum, please’ . . .
“my silent prayer before I sneeze.
“But ere the words can reach my lip,
“my body says ‘Nope — let ’er rip!’
“AH . . . CHOO! The loudly boisterous roar
“nearly blows the hinges off the door.”
Then & Now
Kathy S. of St. Paul writes: “Subject: Stopping a fight.
“In July 1969, I accidentally broke up a street fight. As I came out of the Greyhound bus depot in downtown St. Paul, I saw a Hispanic man grab a (probably inebriated) man’s arm and yank. The man he grabbed lost his balance and fell — hitting his head with a clunk I can still hear. Without thinking, I yelled ‘Stop!’ and everyone turned my way. I gulped.
“The attacker told me he was ‘Mexican,’ and not a [Hispanic slur]. I replied that my cousin’s husband was also Mexican, and asked why that mattered. I was a 19-year-old (very) Irish-American college kid with long blond hair, in a year when my cousin’s type of marriage wasn’t common. So I figure the spectators switched from watching the fight to deciding if I was lying. Which I was not.
“My cousin Mary met Mario and made my family international when I was 9. I was 15 before I understood that anyone might object to their marriage. A classmate in a high school religion class once said: ‘Yes, but would you want your cousin to marry a Mexican?’ I immediately said that my cousin did marry a Mexican, and asked if there was anything wrong with that. She thought I was being a wise guy, until girls I also attended grade school with told her that it was true. The nuns had asked me to tell our grade-school class what I was learning about Mexico. Mainly, I found the compound surnames confusing, until I became a genealogist. Now I like them.
“Getting back to 1969: When policemen showed up at the depot to stop a fight, there wasn’t one. I had (totally accidentally) let all the air out of the confrontation, and no one was arrested. I continued on to my aunt’s place; she was shocked, and worried that I could have been killed for interfering with a fight. I figure my guardian angel was looking out for me.
“Mary died last year at the age of 89, and we took her ashes out to sea on the West Coast. She and Mario had three kids, who all have advanced college degrees. Mario got his G.E.D. in the U.S., but one of his sons has an M.B.A. from Harvard. I like to recite that fact to some of the immigrants I encounter.
“And, to this day, I try to avoid street fights. Partly because I know I would probably try to save kids and other innocents, when my guardian angel would prefer that I run far, far away.”
The kindness of strangers (responsorial)
G’ma Tom writes: “To echo Grandma Pat‘s ‘kindness of strangers’ entry: I have been the recipient of many kind and helpful gestures since mobility issues have made it necessary to walk with a cane. It amazes me how many people will go out of their way to wait for me, or to see that I have safely gotten to where I am going, etc.
“It makes me optimistic for our country after all, to know that there are so many good, kind, and caring souls among us.”
Dept. of Neat Stuff
Including: The Permanent Paternal Record
Cherie D of Inver Grove Heights: “Anyone out there remember the Merrie Melodies and Looney Tunes cartoons?
“One of the characters was a cute little mouse named Sniffles. Among my dad’s keepsakes was a statuette designed with a cute mouse standing next to a basket. I remember the statuette from when I was a child. Back then I thought it was an ashtray for pipes, because one of Dad’s pipes was always in the basket. It was actually just a little statue of Sniffles with a spot to keep pens, pencils, whatever you wanted. Dad wanted to keep his pipe there, and so it was.
“It was only recently I found out Sniffles’s history. Sniffles was designed by Disney veteran cartoonist Charles Thorson and appeared in many Merrie Melodies and Looney Tunes cartoons over the years, beginning with the cartoon ‘Naughty But Mice’ in 1939. In 1940, a new cartoon called ‘Bedtime for Sniffles’ has Sniffles trying to stay awake on Christmas Eve so he can see Santa. In 1940, Sniffles starred in Merrie Melodies and Looney Tunes comic books, published by Dell Comics. By then the character was popular enough to have statuettes made of himself.
“In 1961, the comic book ended — but the series was recently resurrected for a story in issue No. 140 of the current Looney Tunes comic book published by DC Comics.
“The statuette now resides in my office, with Dad’s pipe right where it belongs.”
Our times
Or: The highfalutin displeasures — leading to: Today’s helpful hint
Gregory of the North: “I wish to share an odd experience I had today that maybe says something about our modern existence.
“I attempted to log in to a site I don’t visit very often, but which is nevertheless quite important in my life. Predictably, I was told to update my password before I would be admitted. I went to the ‘Create password’ screen and entered a prospective new password. Rejected. I tried a new password proposal. Again rejected. This was repeated for a total of 32 times!
“Finally, in exasperation, I typed ‘Abandon_all_hope.’ Bing. New password accepted. I guess the system was just waiting for me to surrender. (And no, I didn’t just give away my password. There were a few other characters that I’m omitting.)
“So next time you’re stuck in a similar situation, just give up early to our machine overlords; it will save you time and frustration.”
The sign on the road to the cemetery said ‘Dead End’
Electronic Board of the Church on Lexington in Shoreview Division
Our Official Electronic Board of the Church on Lexington in Shoreview Monitor — Red’s Offspring, north of St. Paul — reports: “Subject: Humor at the church.
“This is the most recent message on the electronic board of the church on Lexington in Shoreview:
“’What happened to the adult
“’That took the kid’s calendar”
“‘They got 12 months.’
“’LOL’”
Hmmmmmmmm
Anonymous woman writes: “How to scare tenants:
“As a renter in a 55-plus building in St. Paul, I worry about holding on to my apartment. The building is changing hands, and we are told Not To Worry about anything. It does not help that we got a bulletin from the management telling us that our New and Improved (new) leases will give us more notice if we are evicted.
“Somehow, I don’t feel comforted.”
The Permanent Grandfatherly/Grandsonly Record
Lucky Buck: “I moved to Forest Lake about eight years ago and currently have my 21-year-old grandson living with me and helping around the house.
“He cleaned the house today, and I asked about the messy lower-level sink. He said he got sick last night and did not properly clean his mess.
“‘OK, but next time you toss your cookies, use the toilet. It’s a bigger target.’
“His reply was: ‘What’s a cookie?’
“Partly a generation gap, but I explained it was an old Army term for getting sick. I guess that was explanation enough.”
Joy of Juxtaposition
Notes Semi-Legend: “In the STrib of Friday, Dec. 22, their weather columnist, Paul Douglas, wondered: ‘Santa’s sleigh is equipped with de-icing equipment, right?’
“The answer came in the comics section. Tundra’ shows Santa grumbling as his right rear reindeer breaks formation: ‘JUMPIN’ GINGERBREAD! THOSE LOUSY ELVES FORGOT TO DE-ICE BLITZEN!'”
Life as we know it
The Happy Medium: “The big event of the year was to be the wedding of a cousin. And I was to have a part in the wonderful event. I was to be her flower girl. I was 8 years old.
“The preparations for the wedding included the sewing of dresses for the bridemaids and me. My cousins and aunt were in full charge. I was to stay in their home while they measured me up and down for the dress size. Thinking about it now, I don’t think I had been away from home without Mom being around. I don’t think I was sad or scared, because everyone took such good care of me. My cousin’s sister took me out on the porch and played games with me. I don’t know what games, but it was clear she didn’t want me to be alone and maybe get homesick. Thinking back, that was a nice gesture on her part, playing with a little country cousin to keep her happy.
“My aunt and uncle owned the local general store. It was on the ground floor, with their home area upstairs. They had me try on several shoes for the wedding. They selected a soft slipper-like shoe for me.
“I remember parts of the wedding day. I was so excited to be looking so pretty in my new long white dress. I remember playing with cousin Bobby in the lower part of the church. Such fun. Of all things, I was chewing gum, and my cousin caught me. She made me spit it out, and she stuck it on the wall before I entered the church.
“I spread flowers on the aisle as I walked to the altar. Then I remembered to step to the side. After she was at the altar, I stepped to the center of the aisle again. From that point in the day, I don’t recall anything more. I don’t even remember the photo shoots, nor the food, nor the ride home with my parents. All I know is that my cousin and her groom remained married for many years. I had done my part in starting their lives together. Hah!
“Mom, being her mother’s daughter, saved my flower-girl dress in the large storage box in the attic. Happily, I found it years later, none the worse for wear.
“So, what was one to do with a flower girl’s dress from the ’40s? I decided to donate it to the the local county historical society, along with the photo of the wedding party and a brief description of the event. The society not only received it and the picture, but they put it on display, twice, with other wedding dresses during their June Wedding Months display. It is always ready for display, to never be forgotten forever.”
Band Name of the Day: The Whoppers
Website of the Day: Shorpy.com
Bulletin Board 