This whole ALS ice bucket challenge thing is a great way to publicize a good cause, which doesn’t change the fact there’s no way I’m ever going to pour a bucket of ice water over my head.
This whole ALS ice bucket challenge thing is a great way to publicize a good cause... ...which doesn’t change the fact there’s no way I’m ever going to pour a bucket of ice water over my head. For me, it’s like those polar plunge things. No matter how good the cause, there’s no way I’m ever going to jump into a frozen lake, period, end of discussion, not gonna happen, no way, nuh-uh. . . . In reading through old Redwood Gazettes, I’ve occasionally seen references to a blind piano tuner who would come to town ever now and then and go from house to house making sure peoples’ pianos played on key. Does that sound familiar to anyone? Do any area senior citizens have any recollections of actually meeting him? . . . Years ago my brother knew a woman whose first name was Darjeeling. It seems her parents were out at the grocery store one day, and saw some boxes of darjeeling tea on the shelves in the same aisle where the coffee and other powdered beverages were kept. “Darjeeling...Darjeeling....” they said, liking the sound of it. And so they named their daughter after a box of tea. I love that story, but don’t think it should end there. There are so many other good words that could serve as first names, too. (The scene: two men bump into each other at the gasoline pumps, filling their tanks.) Some Guy: “Bob? Hey, I haven’t seen you in years! How are the kids?” Bob (pulls out wallet, shows photos): “Fine, fine. See? Dentifrice here is almost in seventh grade now.” Some Guy: “Seventh grade — my stars. And how about the twins, Ambergris and Plenum?” Bob: “They’re in 4-H now. Say, and how about your girl?” Some Guy: “You mean Alkaline? Bob: “No, I mean Hypotenuse. You mean you and your wife, Lurid, had another baby?” Some Guy: “Yeah, last year. Well, see you, Bob.” Bob: “See you, Some Guy.” . . . I’ve made no secret of my fascination for numbers and the way they relate to each other, which is odd considering my math grades weren’t that wonderful in school. Recently I had a mindblowing epiphany that will probably interest most people not at all: An infinite number of zeroes still has no value. If you’re one of the millions of people who read that and thought, “Yeah? And?” or “So?” or even “Meh”, then move on to the next section. But for me, numerology nut I am, there’s something almost theological about that statement in its combination of opposites. How can you combine the concepts of “infinity” and “no value” and still have it make sense? . . . For tourism purposes, Redwood needs to have its own monster. We need a sasquatch thing running through Ramsey Park, or a Loch Ness monster type thing in Lake Redwood. Any suggestions?