Today, I sit next to the proverbial profane personage who talks to himself (and to you) under his breath. From his mouth proceeds vain babel, uniformly fertilized with vulgarities, profanities, and curses. You know this man. You are afraid to answer him when he speaks, lest you encourage him to call down damnation on his car salesman.
When he leaves for lunch, he says “I’ll be right back!” but you don’t care. You don’t know what he was doing before lunch; you don’t know what he will be doing after lunch, but whatever it is, you know it will be funny. You don’t see the humour in it, but since he is always laughing at it you can not conclude otherwise. Yes, you sat next to this man before and you will sit next to him again.
But love is patient and kind, so you will try to be patient and kind.
It seems that the SUV Nazis may be close to winning the war. One can now easily mistake the GM mid-size SUVs (Trail Blazer, et al) for the GM minivans (Venture, et al.) In this sort of case, the interesting question is whether media pressure overcame market pressure in a knock-down drag-out. However, it’s easy to conclude that the proliferation of female SUV drivers applied market forces in the same direction as the media. The question is moot.
A lot has happened in the last few days.
1. L got married:
2. We had K (Send an epistle for details.):
3. We have a new anomalism:
The United States Postal Service is amazing. Our office building is undergoing major construction. As part of this reconfiguration, the entire north-south concourse has been shut down. To get from the south side to the north side of the building now, one must go over or around the building.
Formerly, there was a mail drop located in the north-south concourse. This mailbox has been moved 50 feet west, into the catacombs of the building. The discussion has been on this wise:
“Gee, that’s an odd location for a mailbox. I wonder if the USPS know that it’s there.”
“Yeah, I wonder if they still make the rounds to pick up that mail, or if there’s mail stuck inside that will never be delivered.”
Today, while walking past that mailbox, we descried a postman walking towards us. We exclaimed, “So you *do* pick up the mail in that box!” To which the mailman replied, “Yup! Every day!”