We’ve all had brushes with fame.
Maybe you’ve met a teacher or a nurse, or shook hands with a firefighter or a police officer.
I sang with Tom Petty once.
It’s a golden memory I’ve pressed into my little black book of golden memories.
It was just the one song—”Runnin’ Down a Dream.” That was enough.
Tom Petty was on the radio, and I was backing my car out of the garage, but our voices were joined. Like many others, I sing in the car, but I differ from most in that I sing only when my car is in reverse. I’m a backup singer.
We had descended into the icy grip of a dark, cold, mild winter. When winter hits, I head south a few steps. If that doesn’t help, I hop in my jalopy and drive south 15 miles. It makes a world of difference. Travel is broadening.
A neighbor said, “Read my lips: no more Minnesota winters.”
Unlike President George H.W. Bush, who said, “Read my lips: no new taxes,” my neighbor meant what he said. He was a go-getter and he got going while the getting was good. Today, he’s likely buying bottles of vanilla and eating grapefruit pie.
Roses are red; violets are blue. If I could get away, I’d go south, too.
Driving past three gyms in one day had exhausted me, and I needed to get groceries. Grocery stores sponsor nasty weather forecasts for a reason—to pack the places with panicked patrons intent on provisioning pantries.
Around 11,943 people have told me never to go shopping on an empty stomach because I’ll buy too much food when I’m hungry. That makes sense. I was feeling peckish and decided to have a bite to eat.
At the eatery, the Table of Infinite Knowledge was in session. I joined them because I didn’t know what I didn’t know, and I could learn something at that table. Besides, when the temperature drops, their company keeps my spirits up.
The knights of the Table of Infinite Knowledge are great at multitasking. Each can listen, ignore and forget. The guest list was extensive, with many men putting on winter weight. My neighbor Crandall was there. He likes to start each winter day by jumping out of bed and taking a brisk nap on the sofa. He teased another, saying if that guy entered the laziest man competition in the Olympics, he’d finish in 4th place because he’d be too lazy to walk to the podium to get his medal.
We agreed that neither rain nor snow nor gloom of night should happen simultaneously. Still, we were thankful we didn’t have to feel guilty about missing a Minnesota winter and the opportunity to exhale visible breath.
In the Bible, Solomon wrote, “What has been will be again, / what has been done will be done again; / there is nothing new under the sun.” “There’s nothing new under the sun” is a popular idiom used frequently as a world-weary complaint against the tedium of life.
A teacher had given me the writing assignment of asking my elders what the most significant invention in their lives had been.
I asked Grandma. She’d been born back when rocks were soft. She answered instantly, “Electricity.” Then she mumbled something about hoping the next big invention would make the men in her family want to do the dishes.
I asked the same questions of the knights of the Table of Infinite Knowledge. Here are some of their responses.
Heated car seats and heated steering wheels.
Kinder, gentler winters.
Seedless watermelon.
A bad GPS, which allows people to see places they’d never see otherwise.
Several knights mentioned prevaricating politicians, who are much more effective at spreading manure than any of the old manure spreaders on the farms had ever been.
Duct tape, which makes a DIY wizard out of everyone.
Duck tape, which makes mallard repair a snap.
If we have self-driving cars, can self-running shoes, snow that shovels itself and self-changing light bulbs be far behind?
New inventions hit the market each day.
Who knows what’s next?
As that noted philosopher Chuck Berry sang, “’C’est la vie,’ say the old folks. It goes to show you never can tell.”
Photo by Al Batt