Even the most miraculous French fry isn’t worth more than a minute or two of your time.
On Saturday, Oct. 6, at approximately 9:56 a.m., I saw the first snowflakes of the year.
I was down in Ramsey Park, by the lil’ wooden bridge across from the old Vita course, taking pictures of a high school senior at the time.
Just as I was about to take a photo of him sitting on one of the boulders in the river, I noticed some white flecks flit by the front of the camera lens.
“Snowing? It is snowing?” he said. (He had just changed out of a cardigan sweater into an aqua bluish T-shirt, and was probably a little more aware of the temperature than I was.)
“Are you cold now?” his mother yelled over at him from the bridge, a hint of triumph in her voice. She and her son had been having a running debate about whether it was cold or not, and she wasn’t going to let the let the moment pass.
Anyway, the point is, I saw the snowflakes first, and an independent witness confirmed I was correct.
I’m not sure what the prize is for being the first person in town to spot the first snowflake of the season, but I think a free dinner at a local restaurant shouldn’t be out of the question....
. . . . .
The other day I stopped at a fast food place for supper to go, and ordered French fries.
When I opened the bag, I was startled by one French fry that stuck far out, perhaps twice as far than any other fries. It was the longest French fry I’ve ever seen in my life. It must have been a foot long.
With the keen insight for which I’m known, I thought, “Hey! If the French fry is that long, someone must have had a potato at least that long!”
I’ve seen sugar beets that big, no problem, but I’ve never even conceived of a potato at least a foot in diameter, or lengthwise, or however potatoes are measured.
I spent the next minute or two marveling at the French fry, studying it from all angles to figure out how someone could cut a potato to get a single French fry that long.
Then I realized I was spending much too much time on it, and ate the thing before it got cold and mushy.
Moral: even the most miraculous French fry isn’t worth more than a minute or two of your time.
. . . . .
I have to confess: I still haven’t seen any of the movies with Daniel Craig as James Bond.
Everything I’ve heard is that he’s pretty good. Some people even compare him to Sean Connery.
But let’s face it, for most people the “real” James Bond is whoever played the character when they were in high school.
For me, whenever I hear the words, “James Bond,” the first person I think of is Roger Moore, because that’s who played him in the first Bond movie I saw (Moonraker, FWIW.)
Is it that way for you, too?