Echoes From the Loafers’ Club Meeting

I gave my wife an empty box for her birthday.

Why did you do that?

I’d bought her something she wouldn’t like, so I returned it for her.

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: I’ve never seen a UFO other than an unidentified fried object. If we’re visited by intelligent life from other planets, why don’t we hear their laughter? After all, this is a planet where a hamburger includes hamburger and a bun, while a hamburger bun doesn’t include hamburger.

The cafe chronicles

Eileen Jacobson of New Ulm told me that she prepares meals that are simple and fast. My father would have loved her cooking. He didn’t care what kind of a meal he was eating, as long as it had both meat and potatoes. Dad said there were two kinds of people in the world: Givers and takers. The takers may eat better, but the givers sleep better.

Eileen said that her two sons had become chefs. I attributed it to her culinary skills, but she said, “That’s what happens when you don’t feed your children.”

Bingo and Bemis

For years, I called bingo. It was an enjoyable task. People were fussy about the cards. They had lucky cards and no one dared tell them that they weren’t. Many of the players were older women. They were sweet and kind. I did find a way to make the most pious of ladies swear. It was by letting them hear another player yell, “Bingo!”

Bingo wasn’t fair. Neither is life. I recall “Time Enough at Last,” an episode of the TV series, “The Twilight Zone.” It was the story of Henry Bemis, played by Burgess Meredith.

The opening narration went like this: “Witness Mr. Henry Bemis, a charter member in the fraternity of dreamers. A bookish little man whose passion is the printed page, but who is conspired against by a bank president and a wife and a world full of tongue-cluckers and the unrelenting hands of a clock. But in just a moment, Mr. Bemis will enter a world without bank presidents or wives or clocks or anything else. He’ll have a world all to himself .. . without anyone.“

Henpecked, farsighted bank teller and bookworm Bemis had an angry boss and a nagging wife who complained about him wasting time reading.

Bemis was taking a lunch break in the bank’s vault when an enormous explosion knocked him unconscious. Bemis came to and found that the city had been destroyed in a nuclear war. The vault had saved him. Bemis found the ruins of a public library filled with books. As Bemis sorted the books that he was anxious to read over the upcoming years, he stumbled and his glasses fell and shattered, leaving him nearly blind. He picked up the useless glasses and said, “That’s not fair.”

From the mailbag

I wrote about having hiccups and heard from many kind customers of this column. Here are two.

Harvey Benson of Harmony suggested, “There are a lot of old wives stories about curing hiccups and we know a lot of the old wives were pretty smart. My cure is as follows: Take a glass of water; take a swallow in your mouth; then hold the glass above your head, and while looking at the bottom of the glass, swallow the water. Do this five times and the hiccups should be gone.”

Russ Hauenstein of Blanco, Texas wrote, “You have reverse peristalsis, the muscle contractions that normally move food down your esophagus are reversed. Have that glass of whatever liquid you want — I’ve found water is best. Count to yourself the interim between hiccups. The next time you hiccup, wait most of that interim and take a couple gulps. You’re forcing peristalsis to go the right direction. At about the same count, take a couple more gulps. It should hurt some. Feel when that hiccup is starting, wait and gulp, force it back down. Repeat but you probably won’t have to.”

Nature by the yard

I filled the bird feeders. Chickadees, nuthatches, finches and various woodpeckers flew in to slop at the trough. I found joy in seeing the familiar birds. There is comfort in the commonplace.

The days are becoming longer. Around the middle of February, it’s evident. The interior of a car parked in the sun becomes warm. That’s good news for greenhouse owners and drivers without heated car seats.

Meeting adjourned

“Never lose a chance of saying a kind word.” — William Makepeace Thackeray