After pumping gas into my car while freezing rain pelts the back of my neck and a howling wind blows straight into my face, I trudge into the warm, dry station and locate the cashier. She’s seated behind a tall counter, drinking something hot and watching The Price Is Right. I hand her my money, and before I leave, I thank her. I’m never sure what I’m thanking her for. She hasn’t moved a muscle, or even bothered to glance in my direction, but I’m nevertheless compelled to express my gratitude.
* * * * *
I don’t like brownies. I’m not kidding. Usually, I avoid telling people this because when I do, they look at me like I have seven heads. You might assume that’s an exaggeration, but it isn’t. I used to have seven heads, and I can’t begin to describe the weird stares I would get. And that was without even mentioning that I didn’t like brownies.
I’m told that some foods are an acquired taste. I wish I knew how to do that, because I’d definitely go out and acquire a taste for broccoli, bean sprouts, and all those other hideous things everyone says I should eat. Friends have suggested that I try to like brownies. Some of them seem to be unnerved, as though their entire sense of reality hinges on a unanimous love for this one dessert. Okay, I tell them. I’ll do my best. But deep inside, I’m certain I’m going to let them down.
* * * * *
Sometimes I’ll open a dictionary or a telephone book right to the page I wanted, on the first try, and I get a little jolt of excitement. It’s as though at that moment I’m in synch with the rest of the universe. This blissful feeling can linger for several minutes or as long as a few hours. But I typically return to normal that same day, as soon as I flick toothpaste into my eye, walk into a parking meter, or somehow manage to step on my own hand.
Friedrich Bessel was one of the first astronomers to figure out how to calculate the distances to specific stars. Based on his findings, we have been told, the light that we see in the night sky has traveled through such an enormous stretch of space that the star it came from could have died out millions of years ago. This idea rattles the brain somewhat, and I needed to hear it over and over before I began to feel comfortable enough to accept it. Then I read that Friedrich Bessel himself had died way back in 1846, so now I don’t know what to believe.
* * * * *
I can’t get used to talking in a library. When I was growing up, they kicked you out for whispering too loud. I realize there are twelve junior high school students holding a karaoke contest between the reference section and the magazine rack, and there’s a lively volleyball game taking place over in young adult fiction. But I still think the librarian is going to shush me every time I open my mouth.
I tried wallpapering a bathroom once, and the experience made me want to drown myself. Another time, I went sailing with a man who owned a big sailboat. He told me it would be relaxing. It wasn’t. I never relaxed for a second. In fact, the whole time I was on that boat, I was wishing I could go home and wallpaper the bathroom.
* * * * *
Following is a list of activities I’ve done exactly once in my life: ice fishing, water skiing, horseback riding, paint-balling, downhill skiing, ice skating, rollerblading, and potato harvesting. I’ve also been to one professional hockey game, one professional soccer match, and one professional wrestling event. I was pretty sure all three were fake. I’m not convinced potato harvesting is real either, but trust me, don’t ever say that to one of those farmers, especially right before lunch.
* * * * *
Whenever I see a lobster tank in a restaurant, I always wonder if there’s one very old lobster who’s been in there for years, and who’s gotten extremely good at ducking.
One crisp December day I went up in a glider. In case you don’t know, a glider is an airplane that has no engine. It’s basically a coffin with long wings. The glider gets towed into the sky by another airplane, the kind with an engine, then released at the desired altitude. Before we took off, I told the pilot that I loved flying, but didn’t like being upside down. He apparently had one of those rare neurological conditions that causes people to drop the middle part of sentences and then push the two ends together. He thought I said that I loved being upside-down, and so we did loops continually, for about thirty minutes.
As I said earlier, it was a crisp December day. I was seated way up front, where a cold draft was coming in through small openings near my ankles. Because the glider has no engine, it also has no heat. The pilot had explained all this to me before we left the ground, but I have one of those rare neurological conditions that causes me to focus on impressive-sounding terms, like fuselage and horizontal stabilizer, and to miss more common words, like freezing. Lucky for the pilot, he was seated behind me, so by the time the frigid air reached him, it had been warmed by the process of passing through my upper body.
When someone says “It isn’t the money, it’s the principle,” I think they’re lying. It’s the money. I recently called my bank to question an unexpected three-dollar service charge. It wasn’t the principle. I wanted the three dollars back.
* * * * *
I’ve heard people with strong accents – Irish or German, for example – and when they sing, their accents disappear. Obviously they can control it, so there’s no excuse for them to keep talking that way.
* * * * *
I’m fifty-seven and I still don’t know what a rutabaga is. I hear the word maybe once every five years, and I always think it’s a car. I also don’t know what capers are, or even if they’re animals or plants, or how it came to be that the word truffle refers to both creamy chocolate and a filthy fungus.
* * * * *
Have you ever seen the show How It’s Made? That show was my idea. I thought of it about thirty years ago. But when I told people about it, they all said nobody would watch a boring show like that. So now I won’t watch it either, even though I really want to know how they make paper towels.
* * * * *
I still don’t like brownies. Sorry.
Jac
April 12, 2013
I had no idea that you didn’t like brownies, but if you told me that, I would never look at you like you had seven heads. I would answer you with the immortal words of a brilliant man: “more for me”.
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bronxboy55
April 12, 2013
More for everyone. It seems I’m the only member of this club.
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Tanisha Ware
April 12, 2013
Oh, dear sweet Charles. You’ve brought me to tears and forced a rip roaring guffaw out of me, right here in my cubicle. Goodness. My son and boyfriend are two of the biggest brownie fans ever. Followed by myself, my bestie, her kidlets and just about every other person I know. 😀 they would make me disown you to hear such a statement.
I too, have had this amazing book opening experience. However, mine is followed by a very humbling stub of the toe or mild concussion brought on by smacking myself in he head with a cabinet that’s been around as long as I have.
I don’t know what a rutabaga is either, I think it’s edible. I do know what capers are: they look like soggy pistachio nuts out of the shell and are usually served up with some sort of fishy food. Seafood, that is. Not food for fish. That’s my experience anyhow. You won’t catch me in line to try either. But you won’t catch me walking away from a brownie.
As always, you’ve done an amazing job of bringing to light some amazing and very hilarious people-doms. Things we all do, but cannot express as well as you!
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bronxboy55
April 13, 2013
Thank you, Tanisha, for always being kind and encouraging.
By the way, I’ve told several people about that picture you took of the hummingbird. It’s amazing:
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mccabemaria1
April 12, 2013
love your random wacky thoughts – and how you tie them together. Brownies, huh?…
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bronxboy55
April 13, 2013
I’m going to regret mentioning the brownies, aren’t I?
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mccabemaria1
April 15, 2013
Never regret anything… ‘specially anything connected to sumptuous treats:)
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georgettesullins
April 12, 2013
I walk away with adding “one timers” to the phrases I may use, but it doesn’t apply to your blog. I look forward to reading more.
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bronxboy55
April 13, 2013
Thank you, Georgette. I appreciate that.
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icedteawithlemon
April 12, 2013
I was tempted to express my incredulity over your distaste of brownies, but then I remembered that I don’t like mashed potatoes, gravy, or any kind of bean (unless vanilla counts)–and I get the same “seven heads” look when people in these parts find out. It’s almost as if I have violated a sacred cultural mandate. I’ve never seen a rutabaga, a caper or a truffle (of the fungi variety), but I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t eat any of them, either.
Thank you for making me laugh this morning. Lobster hide-and-seek, frigid air being warmed through the process of going through your body before hitting the pilot–great stuff. And I hope you got your $3 back.
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bronxboy55
April 13, 2013
Thanks, Karen. I didn’t get the three dollars back, but the man at the bank did spend about forty-five minutes looking into the matter, so the bank ended up paying more than I did.
Your latest post is an incredible explanation of what it means to love the game of baseball, as well as a great example of how to treat writing as a craft. I look forward to Part 2.
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Pleun
April 12, 2013
I’m not too keen on brownies either! But I do love capers, they are yummie on salads and in filet american. Don’t know whether it’s an animal or plant and I chose to stay blissfully ignorant. But I would say they are definitely safe to try!
And what’s wrong with strong accents?
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bronxboy55
April 12, 2013
There’s nothing wrong with accents. I love them, and find them extremely intriguing. Someone recently told me my New York accent is barely detectable, and I was sorry to hear that.
Thanks for the comment.
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Ruth Rainwater
April 12, 2013
You leave me laughing out loud once again. 🙂
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bronxboy55
April 14, 2013
Thank you, Ruth. You make it worthwhile.
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Rayora Hartman
April 12, 2013
Dare I burst your blissful ignorance of what a rutabaga is by telling you it is indeed a fat yellow root vegetable with a purple crown and greens resembling that of a carrot? Can’t wait to see what you do with that little bit of trivia.
Your brand of humor should be bottled and sold in health food stores, btw. More healthful than any vitamin pill.
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bronxboy55
April 14, 2013
I think rutabaga just has too many syllables for me. Celery is as far as I’ll go.
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Paula J
April 12, 2013
Another great post.
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bronxboy55
April 14, 2013
Thanks, Paula. And I liked your latest post on air travel.
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subodai213
April 12, 2013
Rutabagas result from crossing cabbage with turnips.
I had one, once. It was cooked by a friend of my Polish/German grandmother. I remember being “encouraged”..(such a soft word for what was, literally, strong arming a ten year old) by the old ”babushka’ to eat it, eat it, it is goot for you.” and my grandmother grasping me by my shoulder with her Very Sharp Fingernails and saying that I should listen and do as I”m told.
I ate the rutabaga. It tasted like what I would imagine a warmed up Yellow Pages phonebook would taste.
While I hated being forced to eat something common sense told me not to, it also taught me that something that looked nasty wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. It certainly wasn’t nasty, like Lima beans. It was just….oh, tasteless, flavorless and bland.
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bronxboy55
April 14, 2013
A cross between cabbage and turnips. That would have done it for me.
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Chichina
April 12, 2013
I’ve been in sugar withdrawal for the past two days and the bottom keeps dropping out of my blood sugar. I like brownies. I like them a lot. Now I want brownies. See what you’ve done?
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bronxboy55
April 14, 2013
I think complete deprivation is a bad idea. Can’t you have half a brownie?
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Chichina
April 14, 2013
Ummmmmmmm…….. I went for dinner with a friend last night and transgressed against every forbidden food category…. and then some. I finished it all off with chocolate eruption.T’was foolish of me because last night I felt unwell and rather than thinking that it might have been the food, I was toying with the idea of calling 911 because I was certain that I had an abdominal aneurism, and was bleeding out….haha
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Mal
April 13, 2013
Whaat?? You don’t like brownies? No kiddin’ … I guess that means you’ve not had the ‘Death by chocolate’ cake!! 😀
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bronxboy55
April 14, 2013
I haven’t, Mal. In fact, I don’t eat anything with the word death in its name.
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strawberryquicksand
April 13, 2013
No one seemed to notice the most notable thing in this blog! YOU ARE FIFTY SEVEN!!!!! (going on about 30, I will concede, however). I thought all 57 year olds knew what rutabagas and capers were and liked brownies. Now… in Australia, people like MUFFINS. I. Hate. Muffins. Sweet or savoury, they are not my favourite thing in the world at all. We might even have a brownie muffin, God forbid!
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bronxboy55
April 15, 2013
Thanks for bringing up the subject of muffins, Yvette. They always look amazingly good, but they never are. In fact, I can’t think of a single time when I ate a muffin that wasn’t a disappointment. But I still hold out hope that there’s a great one out there somewhere.
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strawberryquicksand
April 15, 2013
A secret to improve a chocolate muffin is to put salt on it just before eating it. But shhhhh most people don’t believe me.
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Allan Douglas (@AllanDouglasDgn)
April 13, 2013
You don’t like BROWNIES?! You truly must be a seven headed being from another dimension.
Never ever wallpaper a bathroom. Just about the time you get used to it being a new pattern and color you will take a shower and the steam will cause the paper to roll back down the walls. Then you will step out of the shower and be disoriented because through the fog you will see the walls of an unfamiliar room and think, oh, no; I’ve been transported again. I hate it when they transport me naked.
Now that you mention it, I have wondered about people who sing without accents but speak in a way it’s hardly recognizable as English.
Is getting lobsters out of a tank like those grab-a-prize-with-claw-on-a-cable games?
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bronxboy55
April 15, 2013
The thing about wallpapering seems to be that you have to have done it a few times before you get good at it. (I was going to say “get the hang of it,” but resisted.) The question is, which rooms do you practice on, and how do you mentally survive the process?
I’ve never touched a lobster. I would need to wear one of those radioactive suits and the giant hockey goalie gloves.
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silkpurseproductions
April 13, 2013
I’m with you on the brownies. Not a fan. I think it is because…not sure I should reveal this as I know there will be backlash…I don’t like chocolate. There I said it. I don’t like chocolate.
(I can hear the crickets now.)
On another note, you made my day. I always thought you were much younger than me. Turns out I am a year younger than you.
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bronxboy55
April 15, 2013
I appreciate your courage, Michelle. Now don’t back down. We’ll weather the storm together. (How does HW feel about chocolate?)
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silkpurseproductions
April 15, 2013
He is a bigger fan than I am. However, I think I have had some influence on him as he seems to be able to take it or leave it.
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lolarugula
April 13, 2013
Oh my God…I laughed all the way through this! Apparently I have a rare neurological condition that enables me to read and translate snarkiness and dry wit quite splendidly. Great post!
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bronxboy55
April 16, 2013
Thanks, Lesley. I usually aim for just short of snarkiness, but sometimes I forget where I am.
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lolarugula
April 16, 2013
And I’m thankful for that…truly entertaining!
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Snoring Dog Studio
April 13, 2013
I can’t even comment about the brownie part; I’m still dealing with your aversion to pumpkin pie. My one experience with sailing ended badly. There was a lot of water on me – cold water. I remember that. And crashing into the dock on the way back. Do not go near a rutabaga. It only gets .01 mile to the gallon but leaves you with an awful taste in your mouth.
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bronxboy55
April 16, 2013
This pumpkin pie thing is like the situation in the Middle East. Every few months, we call a truce and I think the conflict is over, but then it just flares up again. We’re still flood buddies though, right?
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Snoring Dog Studio
April 16, 2013
I long ago realized you have an uneasy relationship with pumpkin pie. It’s very similar to my uneasy relationship with eggplant, though not as glamorous. It’s all good – we definitely are still flood buddies!
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hemadamani
April 13, 2013
here I am, sitting and reading your post and laughing away…. and my husband and daughter are looking at me as if I have seven heads… 🙂 wonderful, hilarious post… 🙂 and I love brownies!!! 🙂
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bronxboy55
April 16, 2013
Thanks, Hema. I’m glad you liked the post. And I’m glad you love brownies, too — it means you don’t get that look as often as I do.
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Philster999
April 13, 2013
I’m going to skip any reference to brownies whatsoever and go straight to the glider story: Hilarious on so many different levels — from the aeronautical to the neurological. How do you manage to get yourself into these situations? I shudder to even imagine how your one-time water skiing or ice fishing experiences must have turned out!
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bronxboy55
April 16, 2013
I went ice fishing with my cousin on Lake Carmel, in upstate New York. All I remember is that my feet were frozen, and that I was ambivalent about catching a fish. I’ve never been comfortable with causing something to die, but if we got one, we could get off the stupid ice and go home. Water skiing was just a ridiculous series of near-drownings. I briefly discussed the horseback riding episode in this post:
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Elyse
April 13, 2013
Charles do you have some sort of direct line into my childhood? Because every single time I read one of your posts I am transported back in time.
Tonight, I find myself in the living room behind the couch. Nobody knows where I am. Nobody knows what happened to that box of Betty Crocker Brownie Mix. Or that spoon, either.
But I knew that the connection was me. I found myself sitting behind the couch in the living room with the brownie mix. A spoon full of powder mixed with kid saliva made the most evil treat imaginable.
Funny, we never actually had baked brownies growing up. I can’t imagine why.
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bronxboy55
April 17, 2013
The thought of you hiding behind the couch and eating powdered brownie mix with a spoon got me all choked up, Elyse. I mean that literally. I had to go get a glass of water.
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Elyse
April 17, 2013
It’s better with milk. Trust me.
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Tom Marshall
April 13, 2013
Things I’ve only done once in my life: mackerel fishing, walking the strip in Vegas, eating brussel sprouts, visiting Puerto Rico, driving a Porsche, seeing the Crazy Horse monument, drove to Canada on a motorcycle, bought a custom made suit jacket, called an author and skunked a professor, was High Pope (not the real one), and went on a ride along with a State Trooper. I’d also want the three bucks.
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bronxboy55
April 17, 2013
All intriguing events, Tom, but if nothing else, I’ll have to hear more about your being High Pope. I’ve never made it past bishop myself.
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susielindau
April 13, 2013
Seven heads, eh, I can barely keep track of one!
The distance between burnt out stars thing hurts my head too. I get that same uncomfortable feeling when thinking about the beginning of the universe…. ouch..
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bronxboy55
April 17, 2013
Not to mention the size of the universe. Hundreds of billions of stars in each galaxy and hundreds of billions of galaxies. And the closest star to the sun is twenty-five trillion miles away. My little brain can’t handle it.
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susielindau
April 17, 2013
Now mine is hurting again too…
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rangewriter
April 14, 2013
I wish I didn’t like brownies. I’d probably look a lot better and be a lot healthier.
I’ve always wanted to ride in a glider. I’ve been in a hot air balloon but that was so noisy it gave me a headache. But forget the flips and twirls. I got sick on a half hour helicopter flight through the mountains. The pilot was all excited to show me all the lakes I’d hiked to, but he went way too close to those granite spires that catch the snow (and helicopters?) to make the lakes.
Just last week I had a discussion about rutabagas. I was mixed up (and have been all my life) between rhubarb and rutabagas. Apparently there’s a difference, although they sound equally scary to me.
Thanks for starting my day with a smile.
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bronxboy55
April 17, 2013
People put rhubarb in pies, with strawberries. I don’t get it.
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John
April 14, 2013
Wow, phone books.
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bronxboy55
April 17, 2013
You remember phone books, John. I know you do.
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John
April 17, 2013
Shhhh
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earthriderjudyberman
April 14, 2013
Now that you mention it, Charles, The Beatles – and others of the British Invasion – did not have British accents when they sang. Why is that?
No, brownies … For me, chocolate is one of the major food groups.
Your post keeps me laughing, thinking and learning.
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bronxboy55
April 17, 2013
The accents were all fake. They were just pretending to talk like that so the girls would swoon.
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earthriderjudyberman
April 17, 2013
Your comment reminded me of “L.A. Story” with Steve Martin. His girlfriend made a similar remark about a British chick (Victoria Tennant) that Steve was quite taken with in that movie. His comeback was funny. (So is yours, Charles.)
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partsyspeaks
April 15, 2013
I haven’t known anyone who has declared his hate for a very innocent sweet stuff like brownies. When people say they hate fish, I understand. Shrimp. Alright. Meat. Okay. However, as with brownies, I feel I have to raise my hand and ask why. But it’s alright really. People don’t go on justifying and explaining why they hate or love certain things.
Interesting also what you mentioned about how we just say Thanks for no apparent reason. I do that when I give the fare sometimes; I say Thanks before I step out of the cab. I think it’s great we still use these magic words even if they are not really ‘appropriate’ given the time and place.
Loved reading these snippets.
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bronxboy55
April 17, 2013
I say thank you at toll booths, too, even when I’m infuriated by the amount, or the frequency. There’s a stretch on the Garden State Parkway in New Jersey where the toll booths are bunched together, with several within a few miles of each other. I usually head for the exact change lanes, because then I don’t have to thank anyone.
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She's a Maineiac
April 15, 2013
I actually laughed out loud at ‘it had been warmed by the process of passing through my upper body’. Oh my god, so many laughs reading this one! One of your funniest (although it’s hard to pick and choose…)
You are crazy for not liking brownies. Absolutely certifiable.
I hate cake, though. I know. Every birthday party people push cake on me like it’s a drug. “Here! Have some cake! C’mon! Eat some cake! Have a little piece! Oh, c’mon, eat it!” I can’t eat it, not even a bite. Between the cake and then the sugar bomb of frosting on top, blech times two.
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bronxboy55
April 18, 2013
A brownie is just chocolate cake that was made on a planet with much stronger gravity. And the ones that are made locally, here on Earth, have been stepped on and smashed by giant robot aliens wearing iron boots. You didn’t know that, did you? See? I’m not so crazy after all.
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Sue
April 15, 2013
OK now I feel like an idiot. After my mom passed away in 2008 my grandaughter came home from school with a list of books you could buy and donate to the school library. One of the books was titled My Little Rutabaga. As my mother was famous for her Turnip casserole I thought it was the perfect book to donate in her honour. Now to find that she never cooked a rutabaga at all, however she did make the most delicious cheesecake brownies in the world.
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bronxboy55
April 18, 2013
Compared to rutabagas, cheesecake brownies sound pretty good. I guess it’s all relative. I’ll have to keep that in mind.
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lelittlefox25
April 15, 2013
Reblogged this on Le Little Fox and commented:
I envy your thoughts and the way you express them… i like it ^^
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bronxboy55
April 18, 2013
Thanks. I’m glad you liked it enough to share it with your readers.
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Earth Ocean Sky Redux
April 15, 2013
* I grew up with a stutterer who when he sang no longer stuttered.
* I LOVE the show How Things Are Made. Sorry, but Mr. EOS says that was HIS idea.
* When I see lobsters in a tank, I get very sad and want to take them all back to the ocean.
* I LOVE brownies, especially with lots of walnuts. Warm and gooey out of the oven. Rutabagas are not as good as brownies.
* I often find myself saying something at the exact moment someone on TV or radio is saying the same words. It’s unnerving. On the days that happens, I have bought lottery tickets. I am still blogging so….
* On Tax Day, I will agree with you: It’s about the money.
Darn, now I want a brownie.
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bronxboy55
April 18, 2013
The same thing happens whenever I read while a radio or television is on. It happens on almost every page: I’ll be reading a word just as I hear it spoken. And not common words, either. I keep saying I’m going to start writing them down. Maybe someone is sending me a secret message.
When did Mr. EOS come up with this idea?
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Stacie Chadwick
April 15, 2013
My first thought is: why do you still own a paper version of the telephone book or a dictionary for that matter? My second is that I’d really like to go for a glider ride. My third thought is that it’s almost always about the money. Almost.
Thanks, Charles, for the smiles on a dreary April day. =)
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bronxboy55
April 18, 2013
Stacie, my dictionary is one of those huge things, more than 2600 pages. It would be easier to get rid of the couch. And you should go for a glider ride. But go in the summer. And take a blanket.
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carmval
April 15, 2013
Reblogged this on Anecdotes from a Mom, Wife, Sister and Daughter. and commented:
LOL! Very funny.
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bronxboy55
April 19, 2013
I didn’t see the reblog, but I believe you tried. Thanks.
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aunaqui
April 16, 2013
Haha.. that “old lobster” line really got me. Enjoyed your writing (as usual)! Hope you’re doing well, friend!
Aun
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aunaqui
April 16, 2013
lol and I should have grouped all of this together in my previous comment, but your remark on accents and your statement about it being “the money” LITERALLY made me laugh out loud. You’re so funny.
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bronxboy55
April 19, 2013
Thank you, Rose. Feel free to send as many comments as you want.
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andersgbrage
April 16, 2013
I always thought caper was british slang for hoist. Not overly edible. Let me add to your dislike of waterskiing: Do you know what happens if you fall off your skis and is too petrified to let go of the handle? You are instantly transformed to a homing torpedo set for self destruction on the nearest coral or rock bottom. Personally, I blew a hole in the bottom of an artificial lake in Arizona in ’75. I think they never bothered to repair it.
Love your stuff, man. Wish you could say the same of mine. But it’s not likely. 😉
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bronxboy55
April 19, 2013
I once had a similar experience riding a tube being pulled by a motor boat on Lake Champlain. I felt as though I was swallowing death, one mouthful of fresh water at a time.
By the way, I did visit your blog, but I don’t understand the language. I’m sure I’d like it, though. Pretty sure.
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Patti Kuche
April 16, 2013
I am always surprised at that crazy happy look people have when they waterski.
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bronxboy55
April 17, 2013
I think that’s terror.
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Mitch Mitchell
April 17, 2013
I notice a lot of people are busting on you because of the brownies remark; I have to join them. Sure, there are lousy brownies, and I don’t like nuts in mine, but all that chocolatey goodness with that soft crunch at the top and possibly mint chocolate chips that have melted and add to the gooey goodness… what was I talking about? lol
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bronxboy55
April 19, 2013
I asked for it this time, didn’t I?
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Bruce
April 18, 2013
I like the chosen word, soporific, in the cartoon. Fifty seven, or thereabouts, is a pretty good number I think. How did you not throw up in the glider? I looked up Rutabagas and totally lost interest for this cross between a cabbage and a turnip. I did find this though without much effort. http://www.canadianliving.com/recipe-directory/main_ingredient/rutabagas.php.
Just trying to be helpful Charles.
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bronxboy55
April 19, 2013
I guess fifty-seven is a good number, Bruce. Or at least it’ll look good when I think back on it in a few years.
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JM Randolph
April 22, 2013
I can appreciate that you don’t like brownies. I don’t like watermelon. This bothers people. I have two kids who don’t like pie. They will eat all of a pie’s ingredients separately, before they are joined together in pie form, but once it’s a pie they’re all, “I don’t like pie!”. At which point I always respond, “What are ya, a frickin’ Commie?” because it makes me laugh.
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bronxboy55
April 23, 2013
I don’t like watermelon either. And, yes, it really bothers people. I’ve tried the Commie response with my kids’ friends who say they don’t like pizza. But more and more, they give me that blank stare, because they don’t know what a Commie is.
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Sandra Parsons
April 22, 2013
I am glad you brought that up because I don’t like Brownies either. Or anything very chocolatey. Too bitter. Can we found a club? As it seems I am not quite seven-headed though, could be a cultural thing. Apparently, brownies in Europe or Africa don’t enjoy the divine status they have in North America.
On a related note, capers are the pickled buds of an exceedingly beautiful flower. They are also a crucial ingredient in a well-known German dish called Königsberger Klopse (essentially meatballs in a creamy, sweet-and-sour gravy). You will notice that I wrote this sentence entirely without a German accent. In fact, I have unlearned my German accent so thoroughly that my South African/English husband can imitate a German Nazi baddie a thousand times better than I. Sad but true.
In hectic times when I have little time to read all the blogs I am following, I still keep the notifications of your posts. And read them as soon as I can. And I am rewarded, without fail, with hilarity. Thank you, Charles.
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bronxboy55
April 23, 2013
There’s still a touch of German in there — you put the two dots over the O in Königsberger. Have you begun to develop a Cape Verde accent?
I hope things are going well in your new home. I’m patiently awaiting your next blog post. Actually, not that patiently. Meanwhile, we should start a club. So far, I think there are three of us.
Thank you, Sandra. Your comments always make my day.
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Anonymous
April 25, 2013
This post makes me smile for it’s sheer randomness and no segues at all! Yay!
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bronxboy55
April 26, 2013
Most of life is random anyway. Thanks!
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Wyrd Smythe
May 4, 2013
So,… why don’t you like Brownies? How do you feel about Cub Scouts?
I know what you mean about that, “what kind of strange creature are you??” looks. I get them when I tell people I don’t eat pie. Or drink coffee.
But I do like brownies. Unless they have nuts in them.
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bronxboy55
May 6, 2013
You know very well there’s no answer to that question. The thinking part of our brain is off to the side, watching the food-liking (or disliking) part, and scratching its head. If it were really up to us, we’d like everything. Wouldn’t we?
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Wyrd Smythe
May 6, 2013
You sorta can, if you push yourself, convince yourself that it’s just taste, there’s nothing wrong with the food. A lot of being a food gourmet involves eating unusual foods with unusual tastes; liking or disliking isn’t always part of the equation. Sometimes if you eat something you used to dislike, you do acquire a taste for it (I did with brown mustard).
But being able to eat isn’t the same as liking I guess. You’re right about that. Your tastes are what your tastes are. I usually have a bit more behind things I don’t like… in some cases it’s texture (many veggies) or combo tastes (don’t like fruit+chocolate or nuts+chocolate) or smell (most eggs). I don’t like pie because I don’t like cooked fruit heavily dosed with white sugar (taste, texture). I was just curious if you had a similar thing with brownies.
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bronxboy55
May 7, 2013
I share your sensitivity to texture, although I don’t think that’s the issue with brownies. I also don’t like the combination of fruit and chocolate. People seem to love chocolate-covered strawberries, but not me. And chocolate and orange? I don’t get it. I like most pies, but not lemon meringue, and not anything with seeds, such as raspberry. I would like strawberry pie, but people ruin it by adding rhubarb, which to me is like putting electric eels on the water slide. I would never eat eels, by the way. You probably knew that.
Okay, I wasn’t going to go into this in such detail, but as usual, you asked for it. I have three general categories of food. Category A includes all the things I love, the foods that cause me to say, “Hey, I haven’t had that in a while.” Category C has things like cauliflower and split pea soup — the stuff that, if it were the only thing to eat, I’d have to die. In between is Category B, which is the group of foods that I can eat without dread, if given no other choice. Brownies would be in Category B. If it were the only dessert, I might eat it, but if there’s cheesecake or oatmeal cookies, then no way.
Do you see why I should avoid talking about food at all? I never learn.
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Wyrd Smythe
May 8, 2013
I thought it was a fine conversation! I can relate, and I like the idea of a three-level partitioning. There are foods I won’t normally touch, but can handle when I’m being polite in public.
But… fried eggs, for example? Given the choice of extreme physical torture and eating a fried egg… I’d have to give the matter considerable thought. Squash (and any gourd) is in that category, too.
(When I say stuff like that I always flash to the Jack Benny routine where he’s mugged, and the mugger demands, “Your money or your life!” Jack just stands there for a while until the mugger demands an answer. Benny replies, “I’m thinking, I’m thinking!” (I’m assuming you’re old enough to remember that Benny played a major miser, even though he was by all accounts a genuinely generous man of unparalleled character.))
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bronxboy55
May 9, 2013
For me, it’s hard-boiled eggs. That would be the extreme physical torture. I can’t even watch somebody else eat them.
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Wyrd Smythe
May 10, 2013
I’m with you on the eggs! My buddy loves those Scotch Eggs…. just the description of them turns my stomach.
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Judy Smith
May 6, 2013
Thank you, you’ve made my day. I laughed out loud from about the midway point to the end of the piece, as a result of which, Mr. Bronxboy, you’re my new fave blogger. No worries, it’s nothing you have to continue to try to live up to. Just thought I’d tell you.
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bronxboy55
May 7, 2013
As with my assurances to friends that I’ll try to like brownies, the fear of disappointing readers like you is real and persistent. At the same time, I appreciate your encouragement. We’ll see how it goes. (But if you find a new favorite blogger, will you let me know so I can relax?)
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Judy Smith
May 7, 2013
Certainly. Would it help if I made one up right here on the spot?
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bronxboy55
May 7, 2013
If it isn’t too much trouble.
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Judy Smith
May 7, 2013
Well … hmm … if you haven’t met Ned, he’s pretty dang entertaining. Charles, meet Ned. Ned, meet Charles. http://nedhickson.wordpress.com
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Original Mahmood
May 20, 2013
this is one of the wittiest blog posts iv read online in ages , as for brownies i dont like brownies either, i dont hate them i just dont prefer them, although i love chocolate and people who tell me they dont like chocolate make a seven headed you seem ordinary.
acquired taste, eat something you dont like a million times until your brain gives up and starts lying about the taste, doesnt make sense but it works !
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bronxboy55
May 20, 2013
I’ve set some heads spinning with my combination of chocolate likes and dislikes. For example, I like chocolate milk and chocolate pudding, but not chocolate ice cream. And I like milk chocolate, but not dark chocolate (dark chocolate is for grown-ups). As for the idea of acquired taste, it seems like too much work.
Thanks for the kind words.
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Rufina
August 30, 2013
How about chocolate almond croissants? They’re my favorite!! If you ever go to Ottawa, get them at the wonderful bakery “Art Is In” (or at their stand at the Brewer’s Sunday Farmer’s Market in Old Ottawa South). Just the right amount of chocolate surrounded by flaky, buttery croissant and almond paste. If heaven can be captured in a pastry, this would be it…
And I love opening phone books and dictionaries at exactly the right page. That happens a lot, so now I know it’s not just me. Love this post.
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bronxboy55
September 3, 2013
Chocolate almond croissants do sound pretty good, Rufina. Next time I see them, I promise to try one.
It’s always good to hear from you.
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