Back in my country store days, an insurance salesman would stop by now and then. One day, he encountered one of his prospective customers. The salesman said, “Hey, I haven’t seen you lately. Like I keep saying, you really oughta buy some life insurance.” The customer responded, “I know, I just ain’t got around to it.” The salesman reached into his pocket and pulled out a small round disc, about the size of a half-dollar. Printed on it, in large black letters, was the word: TUIT. “Here ya go,” the salesman said. “Now, you’ve got a round tuit!”
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Most young people have never seen a telephone attached to a wall. Let’s face it, if all of us were suddenly confined to a phone cord that only allowed about ten feet of space, we’d go crazy. What? We can’t talk on the phone while on the porch, in the back yard, or most importantly, in the car? What would we ever do with ourselves?
I once wrote about the clichés we used in TV news. Oh, I still hear them every night. I even slip up and use them myself now and then. Whenever I say “Police are literally combing the area for clues,” or “The investigation is continuing,” I want to smack myself.
There are some things we can’t say out loud. Perhaps no one should say them out loud. This pandemic is just as bad as advertised. People have suffered in every conceivable way, from routine inconveniences to losing loved ones. If you even suggest any “silver lining,” prepare to be shut down.
I’ve been trying hard not to write about politics. We’re two weeks from the presidential election, and it’s almost impossible to escape. The birds outside my window are unusually chirpy, and I’m sure they’re going at it over Trump’s taxes or Biden’s Supreme Court plans.
I was about to start writing about this squirrel I saw in my backyard. It was the cutest little fella, and we were just staring each other down, and then I got a text message. It was from one of my editors.
In my job as an education reporter, I frequently hear from parents and teachers complaining about overcrowded classrooms. These days, that usually means 25 or more students at a time. I don’t argue the point. The smaller the class size, the better, in every way.
I was grabbing a couple of sausage biscuits, and witnessed a couple of old codgers arguing over their coffee. One was a bit on the heavy side, with wild hair and a loud voice. The other was silver-haired, more soft-spoken, and would occasionally seem to lose his train of thought.