News of Very Narrow Interest

According to Joni Mitchell, “In France they kiss on Main Street.” Oui and non. Some kissing, mostly smoking. Sorry Joni. Actually, while in France, I asked for the location of Main Street. The confused look I received told me that “Main Street” is not really a thing in France or, more likely, they had no idea what I was trying to say.

“Magic mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest one of all?”

“Judge not, lest ye be judged”. “I’m not judging you”. “Don’t be judgmental”.

Houston, we have a problem.” Running out of oxygen 200,000 miles from earth? That’s a problem. Refilling your water glass at a restaurant? Not so much. So what’s the problem? Unless they ran out of water the problem is there is no problem.

The bravery shown by Prince Harry and Meghan Markle as they speak out about the heavy burden imposed on them by the British royal family has given me the courage to do something I’ve been secretly contemplating for a long time. I’ve decide to give up my commoner status and become a royal.

There’s nothing unusual about asking for a recommendation when contemplating a home project or something needs servicing. What I find interesting is that the response is often couched in language strongly implying that they have the absolute best plumber, electrician, contractor … whatever, and you would be crazy to consider using anyone else.

‘A mixing bowl shouldn’t chip after using it once.” This tinny whine was met by my wife’s verbal dope slap informing me that chips are part of life, get over it. “But it’s imported from England”. Surely, this upscale tidbit would lend the appropriate gravitas to justify my indignation. She was unmoved.

My name is Elsie and I am a 4-year-old Labrador Retriever. I realize that this may sound callous and tone deaf, but I am living the dream. This is a golden age for canine companions or, for the unenlightened, pets. I know I’m lucky. I’ve heard some loose talk about the terrible fate of animals left behind during Hurricane Katrina.