Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting:

It’s a sticky situation, but fortunately, when I was a teenager, my father told me exactly what to do in such a case.

What was it?

I don’t know. I wasn’t listening.

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 would be a noisy fall if leaves could scream. If it weren’t for the last minute, nothing would get done. The weather has worsened since we started having weather events. It makes the weather feel as if it needs to perform.

The cafe chronicles

I ate with guys who had become their father years ago and were working on becoming their grandfathers. They are fellows who believe that salad is what food eats.

I had some gravy misgivings and strawberry shortcomings, but the napkins were fresh.

“What has four legs and flies?” asked one of the loafers. And before we had a chance to reply, he said, “One of the tables here.”

Another curmudgeon added, “If this is rice pudding, it’s delicious. But if it’s mashed potatoes, it’s the worst I’ve ever eaten.”

He claimed that he wasn’t fat. He was just easy to see.

If you are a grandparent, you realize what “new and improved” really means. We agreed that it was our duty to teach the grandchildren about Halloween. The secret is to eat all the candy that your parents like the best before you get home.

Fishing with father

I spoke at a gathering in the Outer Banks, barrier islands off the coast of North Carolina. Those in attendance were beyond nice. I quickly concluded that if you laid all the fishermen in the world end-to-end, they’d be in North Carolina. Fishermen were as common as air.

I’m not much of a fisherman, but I recall fondly going fishing with my father. Before we got busy with spring fieldwork, we’d head to Morristown. There we’d sit on a dam and freeze our rear ends off in order to catch some bullheads. Cleaning bullheads fell somewhere between yucky and dangerous. Then we’d eat the fish.

I haven’t eaten many bullheads since those days. I know that the attraction wasn’t catching or eating. It was fishing with Dad.

Laundry lessons 

When I got married, I had some concerns. I worried whether we’d be able to live on her income.

A friend named John Sill of North Carolina does all the laundry in his house. I asked his wife, Cathy, if it was difficult to train him. I was kidding, but Cathy told me that the secret was to make sure that she always had more underwear than he did. That way, he always runs out first.

He wasn’t all hat

I was on an observation deck at Bodie Lake in North Carolina. I was using binoculars and a camera to look at birds on the lake. A man stood silently next to me. A sudden gust of wind took his hat and deposited it somewhere where he wouldn’t be able to get it back.

“I hope it wasn’t your lucky hat,” I said.

The man looked at me, smiled sadly and said, “Apparently it was my unlucky hat,” and walked away.

Driving yourself crazy

It was a one-lane bridge. That was fine. Unfortunately, there was no indication as to which lane the one-lane bridge was on.

A friend of mine has the bad habit of driving down the middle of rural roads. He does that in case a deer pops out from the roadside.

Driving is a hoot and a hiss. I’d spoken at a nursing home. The activities director there told me that a musician had showed up recently. He’d driven a long distance to get there. The director was happy to see him. He set up all his equipment. It took a long time for the employees of the home to bring in the crowd from the rooms. He played. They were a very appreciative audience. They thanked him profusely. They told him that it was a great surprise, him showing up. It turned out to be a surprise for him, too. He had gone to the wrong nursing home.

Nature notes

“If I feed just one thing to the wild birds, what should it be?” Black oil sunflower seeds. They attract the most birds of the kind that we want for neighbors.

Meeting adjourned

Why be anything but kind?