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Burton Cole

You just made the list!

Years ago, professional wrestler Chris Jericho used a list as his schtick. If someone offended him, Jericho shouted, “You just made the list,” and angrily scratched another name on the ever-thickening pad of paper clipped to his board. Sometimes, opponents snatched the List of Jericho from Chris’ hands, scrawled their own names on the list and shoved it back at him with a what-are-you-going-to-do-about-it smirk. I wish the List of Burt worked like that. I could use the help. I wandered the grocery store aisles while patting my pockets like I was trying to put out a fire. I ...

I’m dreaming of an old Wishbook Christmas

Before it was discontinued in 2011, Sears mailed out these wonderful tomes of literature in August or September called the Christmas Wishbook. This was long before the days of Google and Amazon. We didn’t scroll through screens. We drooled over real, live paper pages in actual thick magazines that the mail lady had jammed into our mailbox. We knew that somewhere past the dress shirts, pajamas and socks (Rock ’Em Sock ’Em Robots, yes, but PLEASE, no more stupid socks!) were dozens of pages filled with the most wonderful selection of toys. We boys studied the Wishbook in a way ...

An elephant in the house and other funny, finny pets

I bought new plants for my fish aquarium. I also picked up gravel, rocks and a couple decorations. I hope my fish like it. When I get fish. And when I get an aquarium. I added a box of fish food to my aquatic hope chest. Because I hope to hear the pitter-patter of little feet… er, fins… splashing about my apartment someday. It’s about time that I had some life in the place. I sure don’t have one. Orandas — those colorful, fancy fantail goldfish — are my favorite pets for a variety of reasons, the first being that an elephant wouldn’t fit. Not in my apartment, ...

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 ...