Kindness is the secret ingredient
ECHOES FROM THE LOAFERS’ CLUB MEETING
I think my car was made in Prague.
What makes you think that?
Every time I start it, the Czech engine light comes on.
DRIVING BY BRUCE’S DRIVE
I have a wonderful neighbor named Bruce. Whenever I pass his drive, thoughts occur to me. I fired up the car’s furnace and pushed on. Old Man Winter had buttered the road for my driving pleasure. I felt like the last in line at a potluck, but there was no magma on the road. That was a good thing.
Winter is when we act like we’re having a good time. It reminded me of another day when the weather had sneezed. The school bus roared past; its driver smiling and waving at me as I stood in the freezing rain at the end of our farm driveway while the wind filled my pockets. He was a safe and friendly bus driver, but forgetful.
I wore a coat that required an exhaustive search to find its brand name. Now when a glacier is nipping at any exposed skin, coats trumpet their brand names. I see people wearing coats of companies I should buy penny stock in. The North Face, Canada Goose, Patagonia, Columbia, Carhartt, Eddie Bauer, Land’s End, REI and others. No need to ask what brand of coat someone wears. Their coats tell me.
THOSE THRILLING DAYS OF YESTERYEAR
I shared an office with Ed “Perky” Perkins. Perky was a great guy prone to playing the harmonica while wearing a sombrero. He was an extraordinary salesman. Perky could sell salt to a slug. He sold Kirby vacuum cleaners. I didn’t. They were noisy machines. Perky explained the noise this way: “If you want music, use a radio. If you want clean carpets, use a Kirby.” I wasn’t as concerned about clean carpets as I was about being able to converse on the phone. Willie Nelson sold Kirby vacuum cleaners for a spell. Yes, that Willie Nelson—the famous singer and songwriter. I didn’t share an office with Willie, but I’ll bet he didn’t sell as many as Perky. The noise might have driven Willie crazy. “Crazy" is a song written by Willie Nelson and popularized by Patsy Cline in 1961.
I’VE LEARNED
Motion-sensor faucets in public restrooms aren’t emotion-sensor faucets. It does no good to yell at them.
You will always be too young or too old to do something.
Tarzan’s yell originated when he stepped on a Lego.
You can’t throw away a rock. A friend said that when he was a boy, they were so poor that they ate stone soup. He was given a small stone to put in his mouth and then spit it out after he’d sucked the moisture from it.
BAD JOKES DEPARTMENT
A priest, a minister and a rabbit walked into a blood donation center. The nurse asked the rabbit, “What’s your blood type?”
“I’m probably a type O,” said the rabbit.
NATURE NOTES
I whistled while I walked.
The result of my breathing through the icicles that had formed in my nostrils.
I tiptoed through the little remaining snow. There was a breeze that enhanced the winter experience for me. The weather folks used to toss out the term “windchill factor” to make us feel more uncomfortable in our minds than we were in our bodies. I don’t miss hearing it so often. It’s true the weather doesn’t always agree with me, but it isn’t the weather’s job to agree with me.
Canada geese flew over, sounding as if they were playing vuvuzelas. Other birds joined me on the raw January day. I heard no complaints from any of them, and I marveled at every feather. Birds dare to be great. They need to be great to survive. I watched chickadees and blue jays cache seeds for the next day. Their preparations remind me of “The Ant and the Grasshopper;” one of Aesop's Fables. That fable describes how a hungry grasshopper begged for food from an ant when winter came. The ant refused to share. The tale sums up moral lessons about the virtues of hard work and planning for the future. I’ve seen the food storage behavior of chickadees, jays, nuthatches and squirrels. It’s impressive. Nature leaves me in a perpetual state of astonishment. It’s a wonderful state to be in.
Back in the house, where there was only a minor windchill factor, the bird clock sounded the call of an eastern screech-owl because it was 9 o’clock. I enjoyed that more than a cuckoo clock. Does the clock spark joy? You betcha! Life is good.
MEETING ADJOURNED
The secret ingredient is kindness.