► I’m thinking we (as a general society) have afforded Olivia Newton-John more credit than her talents actually deserve.

► I bought a bag of candy called “cream savers orange and cream.” I don’t understand why someone combined artificial orange and artificial vanilla and wrapped the flavors into something called “soft candy.” As an ice cream novelty - of course. As a chewy lozenge; no. I’m firm on this.

► I’ve made a major decision in my life. When a banjo is the primary instrument providing the accompaniment of a song, I hate it. For instance: this would include anything by Roy Clark. Now - when the banjo is a member of an accompanying ensemble … not featured you understand - but just one of many sounds … then each song must be judged on a case by case basis. For instance: Amie by Pure Prairie League. I have nothing against the banjo. Included … ok. Featured? No.

February 14, 2007

What the hell is going on with songs in the 70s? Last night I heard that song “Gypsies Tramps and Thieves” (Cher) and I remembered the song “Last Time I Saw Him” (Diana Ross.) I lived during the 1970s. Not once did I see a wagon in a town and not once did I know of traveling salesmen who impregnated women and then scaddadled. I just find it odd that TWO songs were written with similar topics at the same time. What the hell kind of village did these people live in anyway?

February 14, 2007

It was my parent’s 50th wedding anniversary. I actually decided to make my own greeting card. Sure. It sounds frugal. It does. But I assure you it wasn’t an act of avarice. It wasn’t an act of sloth. I live in Highland Park. There are at least seven shops within walking distance that sell cards. I could have walked across the street and bought a card at the bookstore. It was an action of misguided creativity. So, I bought construction paper. I shuffled tunes. And I sat down to create. Ok. I had no crayons. Yes, you are right. What kind of house hasn’t crayons? And then I had no glue. No Elmer’s. No glue stick. Ok. I have a glue gun. Sure. I watch HGTV. But, I thought using a glue gun on construction paper seemed extreme. So … I found wallpaper paste. Now, for the record - wallpaper paste and construction paper is not a good partnership.

You may think my card looked like some folk art project. No. It looked like a kindergarten art assignment. And frankly, I think putting a greeting card from a 44 years old man on a refrigerator door just seems wrong. So, I fashioned the card and it looked awful. My creative expectations had hoped higher. Well, … I might as well have spit tobacco juice at cardboard in some Jackson Pollockesque spray of affection. But - I tried. The sentiment was sincere.

February 14, 2007

1. If you have a meeting and you’re running behind and you need to iron a shirt - fire blowing out the backend of your iron like it’s eaten too much Mexican food is not a good thing and the neighborhood Walgreens store isn’t going to have a reasonable iron for sale. It’s only going to offer an iron that is provided with the new Malibu-Barbie Beach House which almost defies authenticity because anyone who lives in a beach house in Malibu doesn’t iron. They pay people to do things like that. Or they buy a new shirt.

2. If you are at the dealership having your car’s oil changed and you see the new Lincoln Navigator you need to be aware of a few facts. (a) the dealership will not provide tissues so that you can wipe the drool off your chin. You might as well run your chin across your sleeve. Why not? It’s already wrinkled. (b) a man will actually chase you across the lot and shout the mantra … “Sure … I understand you’re not in the market right now but let’s just run the numbers.” (c) even though you tell yourself that the Navigator’s gas mileage sucks … you’ll secretly conjugate the verb “to covet” the entire drive home.

3. No matter how many times Christina Aguilera’s publicist plasters her face in the media and no matter how many times she’s dunked in flea dip - she’s still a skank.

4. If your buddy tells you of the sheer joy of solving the sudoku … and if you work on it at the dealership while you’re waiting for your car … and if you have to ask the receptionist for a pencil because all you have is a pen … (and if she rolls her eyes at you and flares her nostrils in some vain attempt to disguise the fact that she’s never even heard of a pencil and you now seem so old you might as well have asked her where you can get your powder-blue leisure suit dry cleaned) and while thinking that the sudoku is a logical puzzle and reminiscing that you got a “D” in logic because you spent the entire semester trying to persuade Cari-Lynn that it was in fact quite logical that the two of you should hook up and while remembering that she never did see the logic in your argument (so she must have gotten a poor grade too) and you spent one hell of a huge amount of money on a philosophy class at a private college that 20 years later was ill spent because a “D” doesn’t provide you with the adequate foundation to solve the sudoku at a dealership - which is ok … because you can’t see the puzzle in the newspaper anyway. Your drool has made all the ink smear.

February 14, 2007

Ok. Yes. I’ll admit it. Anachronistic. Perhaps. But is there anything better than sliding between clean sheets breeze dried and sunshine scented after a hot summer’s day? Ok. Yes, there are better things:

1. Corn on the cob slathered with butter dripping down the chins of grinning sloppy faces.

2. Baby giggles.

3. Dinah Washington singing anything.

Everyone is concerned by secondhand smoke. Ok … have they ever smelled the fumes from a dryer? Previously, there was a use for a clothespin. It wasn’t created as a supply for a girl scout art project. And what about all those crafts we learned in boy scouts, girl scouts, and webelos? I’ve never seen anyone cook anything of any merit on a coffee can with screwdriver punctured air vents. Never. And if you say that you have - I don’t believe you.

February 14, 2007

I’m sitting here eating an egg salad sandwich and typing with messy fingers. I like my egg salad gooey. Ok. Now just wait. I make a great egg salad. No. Honestly I do. It’s one of my gifts. Get ready to hit the print icon because here’s the recipe:

eggs
mayonnaise
dollop of butter
splash of mustard
smidgen of tarragon
dash of dill weed
shake of sugar
salt

Slap it on bread and serve it with chips and a beverage. Ok wait. Only some beverages are apropos. For instance - carbonated? Yes. Iced tea? Absolutely. Milk? No certainly not. Milk/chips/egg salad do not belong together. And yes. There are rules to all of this. And just how much is a dollop, a splash, a smidgen, a dash, and a shake? Hell, I don’t know. I just like the words. It’s like the word “sloth” or even “lush.” These are great words that have lost their place in the vernacular but retain their style.

February 16, 2007

© 2007-2008 Mark R Trost

I now have the best haircut of my life. No seriously; I mean it. Ok years ago (when I had a more “full” head of hair) I used to have my hair cut at Rocco Altobelli. At that time my hair was “styled” by a man named Roberto and he charged $72.50. This was 1982 - 1985. Now I have my hair cut by my buddy Joe at the Groveland Barber Shop. He charges $18.00 Ok here’s the way I see it. I don’t embrace avarice and I’m not frugal. But, I am judicious. I think the price of cutting my hair should decline in direct proportion to the hair remaining on my head. This week? $18.00 Two weeks from now? $17.75

 

 

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