Ten years later, this still makes me chuckle.
I stopped in at Co-op to get some groceries, and got in the shortest line I could find. The guy in front of me, man, he was a story.
He had a thin beard, grey eyes, and wore a basketball tank-top and a ball cap. His arms were tattooed with numbers and designs: a 12 on his left forearm, an ankh on one wrist, the word SATAN’S crawling down the inside of his right forearm.
He had a 2-litre bottle of store-brand cream soda, violently pink, and four packages of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. He paid his bill—$7.86—with a double fistful of dimes, and got 15¢ change back.
He’s got a story to tell. Probably quite a few of them, really. I just have no idea if I’m tough enough to hear them.
I discovered on the track today that this song (“Superbeast”, by Rob Zombie) perfectly matches my running* pace.
It’s extra funny when you consider that, as I was leaving the house this morning, my wife said, “Enjoy running… for your life!”
* Fine, jogging pace.
Dad loved cop shows from the ’70s and ’80s. He wasn’t a big fan of ’80s and ’90s music, though. So imagine my surprise, one day, when, home for a weekend, I heard the dulcet tones of the Beastie Boys coming from the TV that he was watching. It was such an odd occurrence, in fact, that it took me a moment to recognize what I was hearing.
Then it clicked: it was the breakdown in “Sabotage”.
I came out of my room just in time for the lyrics to start up again, and Dad, realizing he’d been tricked, switched the channel.
I get it, though. It sure does look like an ’80s cop show.
Apparently I set my birthday to private on Facebook last year, which meant that this year, I didn’t have a million Happy Birthday! posts from friends and family. I’m OK with that.
Happy Hollow Bean, y’all.
…“And what is the purpose of this celebration?”
“To collect the all-important food.”
Thanks to Merriam-Webster’s “Time Traveler” feature, I now know that the following words’ and phrases’ first recorded use happened the year I was born:
- bikini wax,
- razor wire,
- postfix notation,
- gamma-ray burst, and probably my favourite,
- space cadet.
And dozens of others, too. How about you?
(Maybe later I’ll indulge in a caipirinha.)
It was gorgeous out this weekend, simply beautiful. Highs of 29°C Saturday and Sunday. So I washed, like, all the laundry in my house and hung it on the line to dry on Saturday.
My neighbours decided to have themselves a fire in their backyard fire pit, about an hour before I brought my laundry in.
Long story short, every shirt I put on now smells like camping. Not that I’m complaining.
Whoever mashed up Sesame Street and The Beastie Boys is a genius.
Thanks, Donna (@reloweeda)!
For a scene in my current work in progress, I wanted to know what the proper term is for the skullcap worn by bishops in the Catholic Church. So I Googled archbishop skullcap, as you do.
The word is zucchetto. It comes from the Italian for … Pumpkin. (Because, apparently, the little caps—worn to keep the bishops’ heads warm—reminded people of pumpkins cut in half.)
I ended up going with “archbishop’s skullcap” in the manuscript.