Echoes from the Loafers’ Club meeting

“Is today is the first day of the rest of my life?”

“Yes, it is.”

“That’s odd, I thought you said yesterday was.”

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: It’s difficult to say “Green Bay” without adding “Packers” to it.

The gas cap chronicles

I wrote that cars should have gas cap indicator lights that revealed which side the gas cap was located. Correspondents chimed in.

Clarence Holm of Delano wrote, My college educated daughter and I were talking about the gas tank side location, when she sighed and said “Dad, all cars tell you that!” She pointed at the gas gauge. Sure enough, right on the gauge was a small triangle pointing toward the side of the car with the gas tank. How many years have I been looking at that without knowing the significance?

Jerry Jarman of Albert Lea sent this, “Back in the days of my pump jockey career, I filled a 50 something high-finned Caddy and the cap was located beneath a flip out taillight. That was a fun one to locate.”

Jody Wynnemer of New Richland wrote, “I had a ’99 Ford; when the low fuel light came on, it was a gas pump with an arrow pointing to the side of my car where the cap was located. Even I could figure it out.”

A reader from New Ulm commented, “I worked at a gas station when I was a teenager. A DeLorean pulled to the pumps. I couldn’t find the gas cap.”

Many folks told me about that little arrow. I found the arrow on my fuel gauge indicating that the gas cap was on the left side of my car. I had known that, but I didn’t know about the arrow. How I’ve lived so long, knowing so little is miraculous. The trouble with being an idiot is that everyone notices it before I do. That’s why my wife wears that “I’m with stupid” T-shirt.

Winter

The flickering flame of a single yellow leaf tumbles to the ground, bidding farewell to an autumn not quite over and welcoming a winter not yet here. It’s a manifestation of a prophecy as old as time. Autumn ebbs and makes room for winter. Winter is the season of long nights when darkness deepens. Of memories and dreams. A time of night winds whistling frightening tunes, icicles hanging like crystal daggers, and picture galleries on frosty windows. Winter will be a ripsnorter. It always is.

Nature notes

The Romans threw walnuts at the bride and groom as a symbol of fertility. A legend presumes walnuts were one of the gifts presented to Jesus by the three wise men. The Doctrine of Signatures is an ancient belief that plants are marked with a divine sign indicating their purpose. This doctrine held that because the shape of the walnut resembled the brain, the walnut would be beneficial for ailments associated with the head and the brain, especially headaches. A superstition held that if a walnut were dropped into the lap of a person suspected of being a witch, she would be unable to rise from a sitting position as long as the walnut remained on her lap. Shame on you who are considering dropping a walnut on someone’s lap.