In my column on page four of the July 16, 2012 Redwood Gazette, where you can look it up and see it with your own eyes, I wrote:
“Farmfest and the county fair are coming up soon.
That can only mean one thing: on those days, it’s either going to be 120 degrees with 100 percent humidity, or a raging monsoon with eight inches of rain and people running around in garbage bag ponchos.”
And what happened? Sure enough, on Wednesday evening, just as people were arriving for the fair’s opening events — the truck and tractor pull and DJ Chopper shows — what happened?
After weeks of drought, it started raining! Am I good, or what?
Of course, now that I’ve officially narrowed the options, that means the days of Farmfest are going to be horrifically hot and humid.
Mark it on your calendars and see for yourselves. I wrote it, so it must be true.
As long as I’m batting 100 percent, and before any facts come along to ruin my percentage, here are a few more predictions:
• Gravity will make things go down, except to people on the other side of the world.
• Everybody will keep breathing oxygen until they don’t need to any more.
• In the future, history will continue to be in the past. In the past, the present will continue to be in the future.
• In the coming presidential election, most people will vote for whomever they hope will cause the country the least amount of damage.
• In the future, people will make predictions about times even further in the future.
. . . . .
I’ve never been a coffee drinker, Lord knows I’ve tried, but I started drinking tea about 15 years ago when I visited England for a couple weeks and tea was all the hot beverage there was to drink, whether I?wanted it or not.
Recently I discovered a problem. I like a wide variety of different teas, and keep half a dozen types on hand, choosing which one to drink at any time depending on my mood.
Well, I’ve noticed a pattern recently: I often like to drink English Teatime tea in the mornings, and English Breakfast tea in the afternoons.
You can see the problem this presents, chronologically. I sent an email to friends and relatives explaining my dilemma, and asking for advice.
The responses ranged from “Well, it must be morning someplace in the world at any time, so the next time you want to drink English Breakfast tea, just get on a plane and go there,” to “Get a life, you flaming tea weirdo.”
Truer words have never been spoken.