I called my wife before I left work. I’m not sure why I did this. Maybe it was out of courtesy. Maybe it’s a habit my mom beat into my head when I was a kid. Or maybe I’m just not that bright.I think it’s the last one.

“I’m going to the store on my way home,” I told her.

That was simple enough, right? In the Western world, a guy saying “I’m going to the store” usually means “I’m out of beer.” Everyone knows that. Well, everyone but women. Read the rest of this article »

I was a gregarious child. I used to dance with my belly before I could walk and when I could finally maneuver on two legs, I would grab any unsuspecting human close to my size, shake them, and make them dance with me.My first best friend was my neighbor, Michael Casey. We were together constantly. This was perhaps why a lot of my friends are men now. I entered kindergarten at 4.5 years old and had my first boyfriend named Brian for two years. He was very polite, wore a bow tie, and played the violin. Mom reminded me that I brought him to my birthday party in a headlock. Read the rest of this article »

In my hand I hold a ball…
white and dimpled, rather small…
Oh, how bland it does appear…
this harmless-looking little sphere…
By its size I could not guess…
the awesome strength it does possess… Read the rest of this article »

I’m a sales manager in my alter-ego life and, like Pavlov’s dog, have been trained to respond to business cards. I was having breakfast with one of my employees a few weeks ago when I looked up and noticed a very handsome (and vaguely familiar) man sitting by himself nearby. He was smiling and nudging a business card to the end of his table, so I took the bait, wagged my tail, and approached. Read the rest of this article »

I had been rummaging through the hall closet looking for my high-school senior year book, deciding if I should attend the reunion. The last one I went to, I found out my old flame had married Stinky Jimenez. In a way I wanted to go to see if they were still together; if they had split up, I might make a run at her, but then, any woman who would marry Stinky Jimenez would be the epitome of damaged goods. My old checkerboard set fell from a shelf and Rex buzzed in like a scud missile to investigate. Read the rest of this article »

How is one person’s junk another’s treasure? You could say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but backing up one cliché’ with another is likely to have the word police hunt down a writer and slap him silly with a thesaurus. So let’s just say that people have differing views as to what falls into the realm of valuable.

Have you ever driven through the neighborhood on trash day? Very often some piece of discarded furniture will catch your eye. Read the rest of this article »

Congress is currently discussing whether they should pass the Passenger’s Bill of Rights to regulate the behavior of airlines in regards to their passengers. Until the day that it passes, which could be decades from now given the efficiency of Congressional conversations, we will have to deal with the current unwritten, or at least until now, Passenger’s Bill of Rights.

1. You have the right to a snack that would satisfy a gerbil, but only a moderately sized gerbil—not a large gerbil. For those who complain of the mediocre rations and request an extra morsel, you are entitled to one icy stare that will function as a “no.” Read the rest of this article »

Schizophrenia is much more than just being a screwed-up psychopathic basket nutcase. There are positive aspects too. What are the pros and cons?

First of all, if you’re schizophrenic, you have paranoid delusions of “persecution.” In other words, you think everybody is out to get you. Let me reassure you if you think this. I can tell you, there really are people out to get you. Your boss probably. And maybe your wife. When you earn money, your wife takes it and spends it, right? Read the rest of this article »

Last night my beagle beamed me a practiced Disney-cute look. But I’d fed her already. Or maybe not. Yes…no. Was I cuckoo bananas? The dilemma resolved with a whiff of her bunny-flavored kibble breath.

Some Boomers blame memory lapses on aging. Ha, ha, and I suppose they believe aging causes wrinkles too!?! True, we have empirical evidence that aging indeed causes birthdays, though for years I attributed my cognitive lapses to hormones, stress, and that Mercury retrograde thingy. But the real culprit? Crappy feng shui! Read the rest of this article »

It’s getting so you can’t eat or buy toys or fly these days without making sure beforehand that you’ve updated your Living Trust. You never know when Mr. Free Market will strike you dead.

Just the other day, I pulled up to the drive-in window at McDonald’s and instead of being asked, “Do you want fries with that?” I thought I heard the woman say, “Do you want salmonella with that?”

I said, “Nope—had that last week. Just give me the e-coli, please.” Read the rest of this article »

A little boy goes to his dad and asks, “What is politics?”

His dad says, “Well, son, let me try to explain it this way.

“You see, I’m the breadwinner of the family, so let’s call me capitalism. Your Mom, she’s the administrator of the money, so we’ll call her the government. We’re here to take care of your needs, so we’ll call you the people. The nanny, we’ll consider her the working class. And your baby brother, we’ll call him the future. Read the rest of this article »

I just got my copy of the “2008 Writer’s Market” reference manual. I’m trying to find markets to submit essays for publication and thought I could find some good leads in it. The section on magazines was particularly encouraging. There is a market for everything. Along with the magazine contact information, they offer Editor tips to be published. Here are a few I loved:

“Coonhound Bloodlines”: From the editorial staff, “Writers must retain the ‘slang’ particular to dog people and to our readers—many of whom are from the South.” Reading between the lines here, be careful not to use multi-syllabic words. They just wouldn’t understand. Read the rest of this article »

Someone suggested that I take a long walk on a short pier…

“You need to lighten up, man.”

That was Yahaira. She used to be my wife; now she’s my best friend (she got demoted after our divorce). Yahaira lives down the street, and we gossip through the night about our love lives.

“Let’s have an adventure,” she said.

And what made more sense than overnight camping for two people who don’t own a tent. We borrowed supplies from an over-trusting neighbor and arrived at the campground shortly after eleven … p.m.

“We got a little lost,” said Yahaira. Read the rest of this article »

We have a special issue lined up for you this month—we like to refer to it as our “April” issue. Jason Love and Rosie Sorenson both expound on modern technology; Mary Tompsett names names; Jason Offutt offers his thoughts on clogged toilets; Giosue’ Santarelli talks taxes; Robyn Justo checks out Italianpeoplemeet.com (come on, you know you’ve been curious about it); and we’re officially starting the rumor that Bigfoot has been sighted in Big Sur (they call him “Big Sir” down there). We have a poem on seagulls! We have Kafka and Costello! We would have had even more, but it’s tax time and Uncle Sam said we owed fourteen blonde jokes and six rants. One of the rants was about taxes. I feel an audit coming on.

This is a sad day for Foolish Times. None of the usual methods of communication have produced a cartoon for this month’s issue from THE UNKNOWN CARTOONIST! I’ve checked and rechecked every nook and cranny, thinking I must have put it somewhere for safekeeping (you know, the kind of place that gives up its treasure only after it’s too late). No luck. We’ve heard some rumblings of foul play. When Tony and Sara at the Crown & Anchor heard of UC’s plight they immediately called and offered a reward (fifty dollar gift certificate) for the whereabouts of UC. This is most gracious of them, seeing as how they’re in the midst of their own situation with Basil the Beefeater, who guards the entrance to the Crown & Anchor.  We will be flying our flag at half mast here at the FT offices and wearing green armbands till we have closure on the fate of THE UNKNOWN CARTOONIST!

Enjoy!
P.S. Don’t Forget The Advertisers!

It was a typical day—chop wood, carry water—when I got a pop-up from Symantec: “Your Norton virus definitions are about to expire. Renew now?”

I thought virus definitions went on forever like the giant tortoise or Dick Clark. Evidently, they have to be renewed any time Norton demands “payment.”

The Internet was such a good idea on paper. Now we tiptoe through the day afraid of spyware and macros and worms—oh, my. It’s enough to make you become a plumber.

What do hackers get out of the virus anyway? They’re not even around to enjoy their evil. It’s like ordering a pizza to someone else’s house:
“I’ll bet they’re opening the door right now … I’ll just bet …” Read the rest of this article »

It was love at first type the minute I laid hands on my IBM Correcting Selectric II typewriter—Big Blue.

I acquired my clackety-clack friend for $200 after I burned out an identical one typing my 80,000-word first, last, and only novel. Some of the scenes were too steamy even for that sturdy guy.

My Blue Boy may be old, but he can still kick some derrière. When’s the last time you fired up a thirty-three-year-old computer? Read the rest of this article »