Move over, Timmy, Lassie and I need to hide from the Beautiful Princess

June 21, 2025

Growing up, I knew that just about the worst possible career choice would be princess. Beautiful princesses were always getting kidnapped by dragons or poisoned by wicked stepmothers, hopelessly lost in the woods or having their castle stolen. The only career choice worse than princess would be a farm kid named Timmy with a collie named Lassie. On the TV show “Lassie,” Timmy was always falling down wells, getting lost in caves, being trapped under falling lumber and other such predicaments. Lassie forever was stuck rescuing Timmy or having to scamper off to find the adults and ...

Roses are red, poetry makes me blue …

June 14, 2025

Today, my cultured friends, we shall mix some grace and refinement into the proceedings. By which I mean, I shall recite some elegant poetry. Ready? Here goes. Roses are red, Violets are blue; My fish are my favorites, But you’re OK, too. Ah, poetry, the language of romance. If you’re a goldfish. Wait, wait, I’ve got a better one: Roses are red, Violets are blue, You look like a monkey, And you smell like one, too. Alas, thou guesseth correctlyeth. I ain’t much when it comes to this poetry thing. I try, but I just don’t get it. Besides, I’ve seen ...

Civilized man and the art of doing dishes

June 7, 2025

While the sink filled with water, I went over the rules in my head: First, wash the mugs and cups, then the silverware, followed by the bowls and plates, and finally the pots and pans. I know about the rules because way back before I was married, a guy at work told me. He knew because he was a husband. His wife explained it to him. “See, you have to wash the stuff that directly touches your lips and tongue in the cleanest water, then work backward until you get to the pots and pans. Your water ought to be pretty gnarly by then, but it won’t matter because you don’t lick the ...

The GPS lady and road less traveled

May 31, 2025

Many years ago, poet Robert Frost penned the famous lines, “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I — / I took the one less traveled by, / And that has made all the difference.” Which is to say, his GPS didn’t work either. My GPS lady will coo something like, “In 800 feet turn left.” My mind begins racing: “Let’s see, a football field is 100 yards, which is 300 feet, so 800 feet is, um, uh, two football fields plus, uh, add the seven, carry the nine, and, somewhere around the 40-yard line… or is it the 25? No, no, it’s um…” About that moment, I spot a dirt ...

I knew a new gnu and other English conundrums

May 24, 2025

As the great philosopher David Burge once intoned, “Yes, English can be weird. It can be understood through tough thorough thought, though.” Or, to quote the title of a volume by Theodor “Dr. Seuss” Geisel, “The Tough Coughs As He Ploughs the Dough.” The rules of our native tongue are simple — every hold is legal and falls count anywhere. It’s bizarre. Or was the word bazaar? No, no, it’s bizarre, the one meaning strange. The other one — same word, different spelling — denotes a marketplace full of little shops. The peculiarities of the language are why you ...

Where do lost things go to not be found?

May 17, 2025

“Where does the other sock go when you put two in the dryer but only one comes out?” “I have a book that explains that,” I told my visitor as I scanned my bookcase. But the book wasn’t there. “That’s funny. I was just leafing through it a couple of days ago. Or was that last month?” I rifled through a stack of books, papers and cereal boxes stacked against the wall. “It was right here.” I dug through my travel bag. Peeked under the end table. Peered into the refrigerator. You never know. Strange things have appeared in my fridge before. “It’s not here.” I ...