Rushville Republican

Columns

November 28, 2012

Post-holiday newsy “casserole”

RUSHVILLE — If you’re still impressed with yourself for chomping at least one serving of every dish at your Thanksgiving feast, think how proud you’re going to feel after digesting the following collection of newsy type tidbits! (Just please don’t call them “leftovers” - I prefer something more flavorful, say, “sound bites on a shingle.”)

No. 3 son received word the other day that he’s been accepted for induction into the “Society of High School Persons Who Are Kicking Tail in Math.” Okay, that’s probably not the actual name of the organization, but it’s something like that. I have a good excuse for not remembering the club’s name, because he’s not even going to be an official member of it for NINE MORE YEARS. Seriously. The letter he received, signed by the student President of his school’s chapter, as well as the student Treasurer, it advised him that he should plan to attend an induction ceremony on, and I quote, “December 5, 2021.”

The good news is that I can withhold the $10 initiation fee until then. Now I was never smart enough in math to be chosen for an honor society, but I got out my calculator and did some figgerin’, and I’ve deduced that when the Treasurer of No. 3 son’s Society gets that $10, she’ll do some quick calculations of her own and conclude that she doesn’t care.

We traveled to Buffalo, New York for Thanksgiving and saw many friends and family members. At one get-together, we were introduced to the five-month old granddaughter of our friend Grace. At one point we were also introduced to a picture of Grace when she was only a few months old, and the resemblance between her picture and the new baby was jaw-dropping, to the point where I blurted out that it was “creepy.” Both Grace and the baby gave me kind of a funny look for that.

A short while later the baby was evidently feeling peckish and started to screw up her face and cry. It was then that I blurted out “Now she really looks like Grace!” The house shook with laughter from all the guests, and then, within just a few seconds the house shook from Grace slamming the front door behind me.

My No. 5 son (age 11) and his nine-year old cousin got a big kick out of a Thanksgiving Day football play when the NY Jets quarterback essentially knocked himself down while carrying the ball by running right into a teammate’s heinie. They giggled themselves silly over it, especially the suuuuuper slooooow motion replay. And then they were able to relive the joy the next day when I showed them the newspaper article containing the line “Sanchez inexplicably ran right into his own lineman’s butt.”

Most of the friends we visited in Buffalo have kids around the same ages as mine, and you just know that they get sooooo exceedingly tired of hearing things like “look how big your are!” And “boy have you grown!” I, too, cringe as such cliches, but was a little surprised that when I gave them my best empathetic look after hearing them they stared back at me with an undisguised “not that line again” eye roll. Turns out this was because I was the one who had just said something like “You’re sprouting like a weed!”

I guess that even after years of modulating my behaviors and mannerisms to evoke maximum hipness, even I am susceptible to the dreaded condition known as Involuntary Fogey-ism.

It surprised me to learn on our Thanksgiving travels that No. 4 son, who generally tends to put the “devil” in “daredevil,” is afraid of flying. Like, REALLY afraid. Even though he’ll take on any gut-busting roller coaster known to man without batting an eye, AND right after eating a Styrofoam container of gut-busting amusement park chili nachos. My attitudes about altitudes are the complete opposite of his: Flying is not so trying, thrill riders are suicidal. I tried to calm his per-flight jitters with soothing words but he would have none of it, especially when I avowed that I would never ride - EVER -the Incredible Hulk roller-coaster at Universal Studios theme park.

We decided to not try to convert one another to the other’s way of thinking, and instead to commiserate over something we’re mutually horrified by and fearful of: inexplicably running right into each other’s butts.

TakefiveT5@yahoo.com

 

1
Text Only
Columns
  • We are still the United States It seems to me that America has in the past had an idea of destiny, one that started at Concord and continues to today. A great experiment was begun with the shot heard around the world. It continued on through the remainder of the Revolution and spa

    April 22, 2014

  • Mail Tales: Of postcards and wishing where you were This week we're going to explore the exciting world of Deltiology. I know that "Deltiology" sounds vaguely scientific, which means some of you are probably worrying that this is another one of my sneaky attempts to foist upon you a poorly researched,

    April 22, 2014

  • An important election this year I wonder if anyone has to be reminded that we're in another election year. The current election season is often referred to as an "off-year" election because it's not a year in which we vote for a president. This will be, nevertheless, one of the mos

    April 22, 2014

  • In a perpetual comma I misplace a lot of things: keys wallet gloves the dog's leash. Recently I misplaced something that may not seem very important unless you read that last sentence carefully. Then you will realize that believe it or not I can't find my comma. Yes it's

    April 22, 2014

  • Crate art Paper labels from 1880-1930, collectively referred to as "Crate Art", are a unique form of American Folk Art. Originally designed to be glued to the ends of wooden crates to identify produce during shipping, the graphically attractive labels are stil

    April 22, 2014

  • This column will self-destruct in 5 seconds I've become completely infatuated over the past few weeks with a gift I received a few Christmases ago. It was a completely unexpected gift from one of my big brothers: a set of "Mission: Impossible" DVDs. No, not home videos of me begging my kids to

    April 15, 2014

  • Don't sweat the small things There are a few things in life that really get under my skin, one of which is complaining. Yes, I complain sometimes, but it doesn't last too long at all before I put myself in check. There was a story this week that really touched my heart and like

    April 15, 2014

  • The timeless beauty of wicker No matter what the day may bring, I can leave it all behind when I take my evening walk. Strolling through our historic neighborhood on Indy's south side is a multifaceted treat. It is good for my heart, it erases the cares of the day and it affords

    April 15, 2014

  • Self deposit box I love where I bank. It's a branch inside of a big supermarket. I can make a modest withdrawal and then go and blow every last penny in the cookie aisle. The tellers at the window appreciate me. They know about my obsession with round numbers and und

    April 15, 2014

  • Change can be done here In previous columns I've suggested that one of the factors holding this community back is the relatively poor image many of us have of our town. The point, as some may recall, was made by several people who live in other communities who said Rushvill

    April 15, 2014