Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting

“How is your back?”

“Better.”

“Better than yesterday?”

“Better you not ask.”

Driving by the Bruces

I have two wonderful neighbors—both named Bruce—who live across the road from each other. Whenever I pass their driveways, thoughts occur to me, such as: if I can smile, I am not poor.

Things I’ve learned

1. If you want peace and quiet, get a phoneless cord.

2. Neighbors mow either too early or too often.

3. Depending upon the subject, everyone has a short attention span.

How to talk like us

“Cornsupnice.”

That’s the way we say “hello” in the spring in corn country.

My neighbor

My neighbor Stu Pendose considers himself a chef. His specialty is grilled venison — a deer that has been hit by his Dodge. The old Dodge doesn’t dodge much. Stu has retired. That gives him time to tell me about things. He decided to celebrate his retirement by traveling. He hadn’t done much of it, so he purchased a new suitcase. I told him that man was meant to fly but luggage was not. He waited in the baggage claim area after walking five miles uphill through an airport the size of Duluth. As he watched countless bags journey along the carousel, it occurred to Stu that he could not remember what his new bag looked like.

My familial fridge

The refrigerator I grew up with had three climate zones. Things placed near the rear of the fridge became icy. Items placed in the middle of the shelves were cooled to the extent that they were supposed to be. Foodstuffs situated in the front of the shelves, near the door, were warmed. We didn’t have a microwave oven. We warmed things in our refrigerator.

Mr. Dillon

A famous Minnesotan died recently. James Arness, who played Marshal Matt Dillon on Gunsmoke. Gunsmoke premiered in 1955 and ran as a regular TV series until 1975. John Wayne was 6-foot-4. James Arness was 6-foot-7. Miss Kitty looked up to Marshal Dillon.

Junk drawer

It was a severed arm of a toy superhero offered with a kid’s meal at a fast food restaurant. It was the first thing I came across in my junk drawer. A junk drawer is any drawer that will not open because there is a roll of duct tape preventing it from doing so. To open the drawer, it must be jiggled until something falls out the back. The next item I pulled from the flotsam and jetsam was an air freshener in need of freshening. Then in rapid order came Tic Tacs that had melted into a clump, keys for missing locks, a broken ceramic dog showing dried glue from an aged repair attempt, an unsigned thank you card, a pink birthday cake candle, and twist ties beyond number. Random things piled in a drawer. Maybe I’ll have an annual junk drawer sale.

Those thrilling days of yesteryear

I had an Etch A Sketch when I was a boy. I drew boxes. I was a minimalist architect-in-training. I had Silly Putty. It came inside an egg. We didn’t have the kind of chickens that produced Silly Putty eggs, so I had to buy them at Sibilrud’s Store. Silly Putty stretched and bounced. It could copy the image of printed material. I pressed it against Pogo in the newspaper comics. Pogo’s likeness magically appeared on the putty. It wasn’t digital but it was there.

Café chronicles

The café has 12 tater tots in their tater tot hotdish—that’s nearly a dozen. Drinking coffee isn’t an experience. It’s an obligation. The coffee is like motor oil without the delicate bouquet. Refills are free except on Tuesdays when they are half the usual price. The mugs are so big that there is a lifeguard on duty. Stop and smell the air freshener—it’s cooked cabbage-scented.

Meeting adjourned

A kind word is a perfect day.

Nature notes

The rosy fingers of the sun cause the world to blink awake. I hear the voice of an invisible singer and the world begins anew. A robin calls, “Merrily, verily, see.”

Birds endeavor to out-sing one another—attempting to find a place in the choir. Birdsong is enchanting and serene, yet provides enough mysteries to last a lifetime.

I hear the “cheer-cheer-cheer-pretty-pretty-pretty,” call of the cardinal. It gives me goose bumps on a hot day.

I listen to the indigo bunting sing, “What, what? Where, where? Here, here. See it, see it?” The indigo bunting is a beautiful bird that offers mystique from afar and beauty when near. It sings on the hottest of days.

It calls once more.

Hearts sing. Souls dance.