Echoes From the Loafers’ Club

I’ve taken up playing tennis.

Have you lost any weight?

No, but I’ve lost a lot of self-esteem.

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 attended my class reunion recently. Once I got over the feeling that I was in the company of the parents of my classmates, I had a marvelous time in the presence of those I’d squirmed through school with and who remain in my permanent files. We realize that yesterday is experience, tomorrow is hope and today is getting from one to the other.

We talked of all things.

I was reminded of what Lewis Carroll wrote in “The Walrus and the Carpenter.” “‘The time has come,’ the Walrus said, ‘To talk of many things: Of shoes — and ships — and sealing-wax; Of cabbages — and kings; And why the sea is boiling hot; And whether pigs have wings.’”

We talked of families, teachers, volunteer work, hopes and dreams. Our graduating class was 54 in number. We’ve lost a few. Their deaths have caused us to circle the wagons. They were harsh reminders as to how much these people I went to school with mean to me. I’m blessed by having them as a part of my life. I hugged as many as I could and told them that I loved them. I told them that because I do.

This, that and the other

Not everyone speeds. Marlene Supalla of Hartland told me that her husband, Harold, drives so slowly that the only bugs that hit his pickup hit the back window.

Carol King of Cumming, Iowa, reminded me that when we went to kindergarten, our entire class of 14 rambunctious kids were crammed into a single woodie station wagon and driven to school. Any seal belts were imaginary. I’m glad that she told me this as I don’t remember kindergarten. It lasted but a few weeks and I spent most of my time contracting measles and other maladies.

There are days when I amaze myself. There are other days when I can’t find my car keys because I’ve absentmindedly put them in the refrigerator. Being alive is being humbled.

It was a Sunday morning. I was listening to fine gospel music on the radio of my rental car as I made a long drive through road construction and busy roads to the airport in Nashville, Tennessee, when it occurred to me. If God had intended men to fly, He’d make it easier to get to the airport.

I attended her 100th birthday party. The gathering was filled with friends and relatives, each wanting to toss in their well wishes. I was no exception.

“You’re 100 years old,” I said in a flash of brilliance.

How I came up with such wisdom, I’ll never know. She replied, “Well, no wonder I’m tired.”

I hit the open road, which was closed just ahead. It was a challenge to get there from here. I visited my parents’ graves. I could stand by their grave marker and remember forever.

Life is modeled after a joke book

The wind was whistling Dixie through my ears.

I had a pulse, so life was good.

I was having difficulty achieving escape velocity.

I’d apparently put all my eggs into one bag. My hand had gone numb from carrying my bag. My other hand was still numb from its turn at toting the heavy suitcase.

I was a sorry sight, sweating, stumbling and mumbling.

I hailed a taxi. Or at least I attempted to hail a cab.

The taxi didn’t stop for me.

Why didn’t it stop? It was Yellow.

Nature notes

I was driving home late at night. I was doing an unintentional windshield test. I could see how many insects were flying at the time by the number of splatters on my windshield. It was both a good night and a bad night to be an insect. The old joke asked what was the last thing to go through an insect’s mind when it hit the windshield. The answer was its rear end. Flying insects hate that joke.

My yard is filled with giving trees. They are giving leaves. Dropping leaves do cannonballs from the branches. I’m sure they are saying “Whee!” at a pitch too high for the human ear to hear. Perhaps there is an occasional “Geronimo!”

Red-breasted nuthatches are visiting my yard. I hear their nasal calls frequently and I enjoy their company.

Meeting adjourned

Be kind. It’s the right thing to do and you’ll never know when you’ll need a kindness in return.