Friday, March 15, 2013

The return of five random thoughts on a Friday

(1) When my job went bye-bye, so did my newspaper subscription. Consequently, I have no idea what "sequestration" is and why everyone's talking about it. I do so much else online that you'd think getting my news there would be natural, but I can't get out of the newspaper paradigm. I really like holding sheets of newsprint in front of me in the morning. Eventually I'll adapt. But for now, I'm an old fogey.

(2) I just looked out my window and saw Hound Dog Guy and Relentlessly Waddling Lady pass by. These two (whom I assume are husband and wife) often walk up and down my street, and I used to see them frequently on my morning runs. Not anymore, though, as I run earlier in the day and finish long before they're out. I've been running regularly for about 15 years, and in that time I've given names to many of the neighborhood characters I encounter. I used to run past Cologne Guy in the morning, and the smell of his English Leather was actually quite pleasant. There was also Ridiculously Tan Woman and May or May Not Be Psychotic Guy. Hound Dog Guy, incidentally, derives his name from the fact that he walks his dog a lot, and at one point we thought it was a hound dog. It's not, as it turns out, but the name persists.

(3) I have yet to hear of: (a) a man who has an account on Pinterest, and (b) anything on Pinterest that would be remotely appealing to a man. I'm sure there are guys on there and they "pin" things that aren't related to crafts or fashion or whatever. It's just that I don't know any of them.

(4) The mention of English Leather above reminded me that I haven't had any cologne or after shave of my own in at least two years. I started wearing fragrances in high school, when Terry bought me a bottle of Polo. I liked Polo. I also liked Drakkar Noir, which was popular in the 90s, but Terry didn't, so I didn't wear it. When you're a married man or otherwise spoken for by a woman, your choice of manly aromas is not your own. This may or may not be a good thing.

(5) When I was in elementary school, I used to come home every day for lunch. My mom would have my food waiting for me and serve it to me on a TV tray. I would say thank you, but I don't think I ever really appreciated how awesome that was until...well, until just now when I typed it out. So I'll say it again, and this time it's heartfelt: Thanks, Mom. Those lunches were great.

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