Blog #450                                October 23, 2025

 

Every morning, I throw out the trash.  This consists of tying off the trash bag which has remained in the kitchen since the morning before and now contains the candy wrappers, banana peels, old strings, avocado husks, empty food containers and other sundry detritus of the previous twenty-four hours.  I tie a knot, carry the bag down the hall, open the trash chute and drop it in.  The bag drops down into something and then someone takes it somewhere.  They must care; they must have it under control, for I never see it again.  How simple.  How easy to dispose of all the physical trash and to start the new day fresh and free.  If only we could cleanse the mental garbage as effortlessly as the physical.  Just toss out the medical problems, the money worries, the anxiety for those we love, the disorientation and useless feelings of old age – throw them all in a large, recyclable, renewable, free-range, gluten-free bag and toss them down the same chute.  Let them mix with the banana peels and go wherever the empty avocados go.  And start the new day fresh and free.

 

Hi there and welcome back.  I hope you’re feeling fresh and free and getting ready for Halloween – all the frightening house decorations, the horror movies that cable TV saves up for this season, the hungry and excited little urchins in their minatory costumes.  It’s all so much fun.  Our local grandkids are too old to trick-or-treat, and our condo building does not attract any kids, so Carol and I will go out to dinner.  And I know exactly where we’re going – wherever she tells me.  You know, of course, that there are two ways of arguing with a woman – and neither one works.

 

Let’s see, what shall we talk about?  How about our Weekly Word, which is minatory.  It means threatening.  I’ll bet you didn’t know that.  I didn’t either, until I read it in a book about Winston Churchill.  Learning new words makes you smart.

 

Message from Shakespeare, the three-legged cat:  Lord, what fools these mortals be! (A Midsummer Night’s Dream).  A few days ago, the WORDLE was CATTY.  What a wonderful, beautiful word.  Catty!  It took Pops six tries to get it.  He’s not as smart as you think he is.

 

With no sense of shame or timidity

I’ll tell you the truth with rapidity

He’s smart, you might guess

But he’s full of A-S

Which means Artificial Stupidity.

Purr.

 

Well, Shakespeare, my Artificial Stupidity says that was a pretty good limerick – for a cat.  The unstoppable advance of Artificial Intelligence frightens me. “What happens if we create a machine that is a little bit cleverer than we are?” said Lisbeth Salander, the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.  Soon after that, the machines will figure out that the worst thing for them is to have people around.  It’s minatory.  That was our Weekly Word.  You haven’t forgotten already, have you?  Stop smoking pot.   It dulls your memory.

 

Trends indicate that the legal sale of marijuana is sweeping the nation, and soon it will be legal to buy pot in every state.  I can clearly envision McDonald’s adjusting their menu to add a Really Happy Meal which will include fries and a Diet-Toke.  They’re already training their staff to say, “Would you like highs with that?”

 

Of course, we’re going to see national chains created just to sell pot, so we need to come up with appropriate names.  I am up to the challenge.  Unfortunately, the perfect name for a national pot chain is already taken – Quik Trip.  But I have some alternative suggestions:

 

Pot-Belly’s            Toke-O-Bell          Grass Pro Shops

H & R Pot            Bed, Bath and Way Beyond

 

And if the whole pot thing works out well, then I’m sure they will quickly move all of us up to the harder substances.  A new drive-through chain for heavy drugs is already in the works.  It’s called Crack-In-The-Box.

 

And speaking of Happy Meals, I was at McDonald’s today, reading a book, when a lady my age came up to me.  “Oh,” she said, “I love old books and that looks like an old one.”  It was a nature book I got from the library, published in 1960, so indeed it was an old book – 65 years.  The sobering and depressing conclusion to that thought is that I was 14 when it was published.  How did I get this old?  There’s a lesson to be learned here -- never use an old book as a chick-magnet.  It only attracts old chicks.  Come to think of it, I like old chicks.  I’m married to one.  I think I’ll stick with the old books, the old chicks, the old songs and all that old stuff that clutters up my closet.  And if that makes all the young people think I’m “old”, well. blessed are they that can laugh at themselves, for they will never cease to be amused.

 

I like to look at other people’s books.  I can learn a lot by the books somebody reads.  I can tell what they like, whether we have similarities in taste, what interests them.  I can start conversations with a person just by looking at the book he’s reading.  But now people have “devices”.  I can’t tell what they’re reading on a device.  I don’t have a device; I have a book.  I like to smell it, feel it, hold it --   and fight off all the old chicks it attracts.

 

I met a woman today whose name was Sharifa.  She was Lebanese and married to a Spanish man.  We talked and I told her about my grandchildren.  She was much younger than me and had two young children, twin boys.  She said their names were Amal and Juan.  I asked if she had any pictures.  She pulled out her phone and showed me a photo. “This is Juan,” she said.  “Where’s the other?” I asked.  “Oh,” she said, “they’re identical twins.  If you’ve seen Juan, you’ve seen Amal.”

 

If that didn’t give you a laugh, go back to the Pot Store.

 

Well, we’ve come to the end of another adventure. I’m proud of you for staying awake for the whole thing.  I hope you enjoyed.  Stay well, count your blessings and come back next week.  And don’t be late.

 

Michael                                    Send comments to mfox1746@gmail.com