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Burton Cole

The answer is chocolate. Now, what was the question?

My friend Laura asked what kind of cookies I would like her to bring to the gathering. I know there’s not supposed to be such a thing as a stupid question, but this came close. As a wise philosopher once intoned, “We have an open-door policy. Bring chocolate, and we’ll open the door.” And another said, “Good friends bring happiness; best friends bring chocolate.” Because best friends would never, ever, ever show up bearing oatmeal raisin cookies. Never. Not ever. Replace those poisonous raisins with chocolate chips, and now you have a cookie worthy of opening the ...

Welcome to the Cat Days of Fall

Every August when I was a kid, the stores in our town rolled their wares out onto the sidewalks and declared a sale for the Dog Days of Summer. Now that people are littering their lawns and porches with pumpkins, spiderwebs and skeletons, what do we call October — the (Black) Cat Days of Fall? Many, many full moons ago, when I was still serving time in Monroe Elementary School, we read a famous poem by Carl Sandberg called “Fog”: “The fog comes in on little cat feet. It sits looking over the harbor and city on silent haunches and then moves on.” There was not ...

Old? Nope, we’re classics

I’ve just completed another orbit around the sun and I’m getting well practiced at it. I’ve passed “go” more than 5 ½ dozen times so far. I did not get to collect $200, but on one of my previous trips I earned a Medicare card. It’s not quite the same as a get-out-of-jail-free card, but at my age, there’s not much call for one of those. These days, I’m more likely to drop off for a nap than raise a ruckus. But I am NOT getting old. Oh, no. I’m becoming a classic. By definition, “old” refers to the age. “‘Classic’ implies that it’s not just old, but also ...

Pondering the imponderables and other conundrums of life

Why is it that no matter where I stood in the kitchen, that I was without fail right in front of the drawer Terry needed to open? Is that what marriage is about? I’ve been wondering about that and other great conundrums of life. Why? Because all that is required to be in a philosophical mood is to lounge in an easy chair and think. The thinking part is optional. It’s a wonderful activity needing no more physical exertion than the occasional stroll to the kitchen for more chocolate chip cookies. You, too, can ponder the great mysteries of life. Grab some cookies and a pillow. ...

Speaking the well-known language of Dadisms?

When it was time to go, Uncle Ron waved and said, “See you in the funny papers.” Or if I told Uncle Tom, “See you later,” he’d reply, “Not if I see you first.” But if he did see me first, he’d call out, “Here comes trouble.” If we dropped in at a neighbor’s farm, instead of hello, Dad would greet the guy with, “Workin’ hard or hardly workin’?” The standard reply was, “Well, look what the cat dragged in.” As a boy, I stepped closer to dad. If the neighbor had a cat that was big enough to drag Dad anywhere, a little kid didn’t stand a chance. We ...

Touch screens and apostrophes are a few of my crankiest things

I have another birthday coming up in a couple of weeks and I’m feeling cranky. Old-man cranky. I’m-out-of-chocolate cranky. I’ve earned the right to be old-man cranky. I was born, after all, not just way back in the 1900s, but the 1950s at that. That means the nose hairs and ear hairs are growing faster and thicker than the thinning strands on my head. It means a good 50% of my social life is hanging out with people whose first name is “Doctor.” It means when I stand up, it sounds like the whole percussion section kicked into high gear with all the clicks, clacks, snaps, ...