Hayter
article for February 9, 2020
“Something
for everyone”
I’ve mentioned it more than once
that writing this column has been very therapeutic for me. It gives me the only
chance I have release stuff that really weighs on my brain. So, in essence, I’m
really writing for me. “Pour Moi”, as the French say. -- The way I constantly
throw around French terms makes me wonder if a French person is clinging to the
limb of the Hayter family tree. Perhaps one of the Hayter men fell for a beautiful
French woman. “La femme.” I only hope it wasn’t Dad. (“That was a joke, Mom.”
Mom is in heaven at the moment, but word does get around.)
Before that French thing came up, I
was talking about how I don’t actually write for anyone in particular other
than myself. That’s why my articles are a hit or miss with you, my loyal
reader… or the guy who picked up an old Courier at the YMCA. -- “How did this idiot ever get to write for
the paper?”
This week, I’m going to try to
please as many readers as possible, by varying my topics. For example, that
comment about the French woman earlier was a variation of an unestablished
topic. So, that is actually our topic. It’s a variation. La variation.
· Last week, Brad
Meyer was carrying on about the way companies ask you to review their items or
their service. He had recently been to a place where the manager asked him to
take time to review his service on-line. He told Brad that if he didn’t give
him five stars that it would really be bad for him.
Has that ever happened to you? It’s
happened on a few occasions. When I hear
something like that, or get a similar request for someone I had recently done
business with, I have to assume that the person was just being exceptionally
nice in the hope I’d give him or her an excellent review. That’s what five
stars indicate, you know? The service and food, or auto repair, or the person
at the return desk who took back the shoes your spouse got for you -- the
entire experience was as perfect as a presidential phone call.
Do you know what does to the
validity of five-star reviews? Well, I’m glad you do, so don’t have to explain
it. -- By the way, just between you and hedgerow, no one should ever suggest
that Brad doctor up a review. That man is honest to a fault. He’ll hammer you
and then smile about it. I probably shouldn’t have included that last sentence,
but it’s too much trouble to take it back now.
· I’ve got a
great idea for how to collect a bunch of pencils and writing pens and cooking
utensils. What you do is set a jar or a small bucket out on a table, desk, or
cabinet top. Then you just wait. They will come. There is a jar of pens and
pencils on my desk, one on Kay’s desk, one in the kitchen and one in the living
room. Each one of ‘em is packed tight with things to write with. And all but
about two of them will work. I have no idea where they came from. Some mystical
creature sneaks and fills empty jars with bad writing instruments.
On the cabinet to the left of the
stove, Kay has a large lidless cookie jar that is brimming with spatulas, giant
spoons, weird stirring things that collect all kinds of gunk, tongs of every
size, a spaghetti ladle for heaven’s sake, and a couple of things with handles
supporting things that are mysterious as all get out. We use one of the
spatulas and the spoon with holes in it and the medium tongs. The rest is just
gathering grease.
We’ve had spaghetti a bunch of
times, yet never thought to use the giant spaghetti claw. I don’t even know
when or how the thing got into the house. I do know one way it couldn’t have
gotten in. Know what I mean? There are too many things we never use that we
never discard… apparently because in the recesses of our medulla oblongata we
fear we may one day need ‘em.
· I actually saw
a two-tone car not long ago. A brand new one! I wonder if it’s the start of
something. Has enough time gone by that the pendulum is getting ready to swing
back to a time when there colorful automobiles? Everything that can be done by
mixing white with black has been tried. Maybe the color is called eggshell
white, fog, tornado gray, silver ice metallic, stallion black. I don’t think
there is pain anywhere in this country that is called just plain “white.” In
fact, the Office of Weights, Measures, and Color have completely lost sight of
what “white” really looks like.
Perhaps we may now experience a
two-tone revolution. White roof with red below. Green and blue. Candy apple red
with an ivory stripe on the side. Do auto manufacturers realize why there are
so many old people wandering around in the parking lot? All the cars look
alike! Give us a break. That’s all I’m asking.
· Dental
insurance? What the Sam Hill is that all about? You pay $75 a month, for a
policy with a $500 deductible, that pays $1500 max. So, I’m paying $900 a year
to have my teeth cleaned. Actually, I don’t have dental insurance. I’ve done
the math. I’ve got old folks’ home insurance, but I got it so long ago that it
won’t pay a fraction of what Kay will have to pay to put me away.
∎ I
think I’ll quit with that. I hope some of you were able to identify with at
least one of these topics. If not, please know that the experience has done
wonders for me. There’s probably a French word for that, but I don’t care to
look it up. -- Next time.
end
hayter.mark@gmail.com
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