Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting:

My job is just like Christmas Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting

There has been something I’ve wanted to ask you for a long time.

What’s that?

Are you going to eat your bacon?

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: Having a smartphone doesn’t make a person smart.

The news from Hartland

The Last Bank and Car Wash of Bath, where the change machine is different every day, is now open on some Thursdays.

Curt Cuspidor’s Spittoon factory closes. Curt said, “A lot of people will miss our product, but they have been missing it for years.”

Inndigestion fast food restaurant is so efficient, your order was served yesterday.

Carl Snarl encourages others of his ilk to join the Ilks Club.

The cafe chronicles

It was a place where I looked for adventures in good eating.

I met half the town and heard stories about the other half.

I learned that according to a recent study, people who fish are most likely to catch fish.

I left wondering how much ground could a groundhog hog if a groundhog could hog ground?

Ringing bells, clementines and WABAC machine

I’d been ringing the bells for the Salvation Army. Friends stopped to put money in the kettle. One offered me a pretzel. I told him pretzels were knot food. Whenever a group of men gather, each feels the need to complain. We age like a fine whine. I told them I’d been standing on my feet all day. Several of them offered to stand on my feet for me. They are charitable chaps.

We talked of gas prices that had dropped under $2.30. We are of the age where we need to talk about gas prices. If I could time travel, I’d take a photo of signs displaying current gas prices and visit the cafes of my youth, places like Vivian’s. If someone was choking on some food in an ancient eatery, I wouldn’t need to employ the Heimlich maneuver. All I’d need do is show them a photo of the much higher gas prices of the future and they’d cough up whatever it was that was causing them distress. I need to locate my cartoon heroes, Mr. Peabody and Sherman, and wait for Mr. Peabody to instruct Sherman to set the Wayback (WABAC) machine to the date of my choosing and there I’d be. Even going back to yesterday would be good. I’d be able to catch up on some work. The good patrons of the kettle and I recalled our misspent youths when we’d drag or loop main street. Each rider chipped in $1 and the drive became nearly endless. Around and around we’d go in a mindless activity guaranteed to inspire mischief. Gas was so cheap there was never any talk as to the price per gallon. Mileage per gallon anxiety was unheard of.

Were those the good old days? Maybe. I enjoy eating clementines, called cuties by some. They are delicious. I don’t remember them when I was an adolescent. We had tangerines, a citrus cousin of the clementine. The difference between tangerines and clementines, both members of the Mandarin orange family, can go undetected due to similarities in appearance. Clementines are seedless. Tangerines have seeds. Tangerines and clementines have similar flavors, but a tangerine is more bitter. I don’t need a WABAC machine to find clementines. Clementines are but one of the things that make these the good old days.

The visits never get old

I spend a great deal of time visiting family and friends who live in nursing homes. I talked to one sharp resident who was about to turn 100. She’d either eliminated all peer pressure or was facing the most demanding peer pressure there is, I’m not sure which. I’ve heard often that beautiful people are acts of nature, but beautiful old people are works of art. I’m pleased to know so many mature masterpieces.

Nature notes

A red-headed woodpecker’s common call is a shrill, hoarse “tchur,” similar to a red-bellied woodpecker’s, but higher-pitched and less rolling.