Friday evening I received a call from a courteous young lady who began by addressing me as Mr. Conger and then asked if I’d like to subscribe again to the Illinois State Journal-Register. Before I could hem, haw and decline, she told me it was on sale for half price — SOLD! I told her she was an incredibly good salesperson (not mentioning the HALF PRICE aspect) in a way which elicited a polite chuckle from her, and I bade her good bye. The latest edition was delivered by a district manager Saturday morning, and the Sunday edition was delivered by my regular carrier. I know this becuase he always used to place it just inside my front door, between doors, and today the fellow did it again. Why did I do it? I can’t bear the notion of missing another column from several writers I’ve mentioned here before, another fab political cartoon from Chris Britt, the superb local coverage from City Hall, letters to the editor, anything to do with aviation and the arts and more significantly than I should admit, the latest OPUS strip on Sundays. The paper is evolving well. It is giving me what radio and TV can’t. I was shocked when I heard a few days ago that college gradu-ates in the United States are in a minority! Post grads like me are even more so. No wonder some folks are predicting a close November election. Sure, John and Barack went to college. Do the non-col-grads hate the rest? I don’t think so; the smartest of that MAJORITY just hate the blithering jabberwocks, present blogmeister excepted I yope. When I point a finger at someone else, I’m pointing three at me. Try it and see for yourself.
It’s been a nutty weekend. I have a wheel bearing that’s about to shake my car apart, and even though I am going to take it to the repair shop tomorrow for analysis and and estimate, I am keeping my brain active as possible to repress the catatonia into which I would plummet if I weren’t blessed by so much else in my life. CROSS YOUR FINGERS re the car! And if you have wheels you can sell me on the installment plan — something with good wheel bearings — e me. In the mean time (unforgiving I’m afraid) of the meantime, I am NOT going to take my car faster than 35 miles an hour until I fix that thing. For four years I’ve not taken it out on the highway for more than five minutes transiting to work each way. Now I’m not going to drive it faster than 35. It’s not that I’m afraid of becoming CRUNCHED MEAT in a crash caused by a wheel parting company with my car. It’s not about me. It’s about the stranger with a sprout in the child car seat who doesn’t know me and doesn’t DESERVE what might happen. Cross your fingers here. All I see is impasse and no way to get to work across town. I WILL TAKE A CAB if it all comes down to that.
Yesterday, before I went to the grocery store and felt the deteriorating rumble of that wheel bearing for one of the last times, I began getting into Facebook. My jprofile is posted there and I’m adding pictures. Because of the cost of adding memory here at WordPress (and I LOVE this company and every minute I’ve posted here), I will drop a cue to GTFB IF you want to see more pictures. If you want to be invited to be one of my “friends” at Facebook, comment here and I’ll likely invite you.
Cost of a baked chicken at Shop ‘n’ Save Saturday was $6.97! You think fuel (I will not call it “gas” which I consider another polite euphemism for #43) is highway robb’ry? Get a load of that price for a cooked chicken! Instead, I purchased extra lunchmeat and a fresh-looking head of iceberg lettuce to accompany mon Bunny Whole Wheat and Hellman’s mayo.
I’ve not purchased peanut butter in any form for almost two months because it was too easy to enjoy it; easier than grabbing a beer a cheap narcotic for the flagrantly relaxed. I began to feel I was adding poundage. A fellow in my financial condition will appear to be in a dire strait if I appeared to be putting on weight. Last week, I even pitched three fourths of a jar of raspberry jam that had languished in the cupboard, a lonesome “yin” without the requisite “yang” of Peter Pan Crunchy. I really haven’t missed either one in my life, especially since I started my banana jag.
I’ve spent tons o’ time indexing aviation magazines today, with the office air conditioner on. As General Electric used to say in their sponsored television shows in the 50s and early 60s, “Progress is our most important product.” I have another blog to write today; maybe two. Onward and upward!
Live long . . . . . . . . and proper
Taking the local daily is a prerequisite of good citizenship. Good for you, Job.
The comment above is from a good bloke whose erudite yammering appears regularly enough in the SJ-R to make other freelancers a mite jealous (while maintaining all due respect). Thanks for dropping by D’N.