Posted on by rjonakait

Snippets

People surprise me. We were discussing streaming shows when the dessert server came. I asked the Guatemalan-born man if he had any Netflix recommendations. He replied that he did not watch television, but after a beat he added that he did listen to audiobooks. With only the slightest urging, he recommended Andre Agassi’s memoir. He was eager to tell us that for much of the tennis player’s career, his iconic long locks were fake. Andre was losing his hair but had a shampoo sponsor and extensions seemed necessary. Then the server recommended the audiobook about Nike’s Phil Knight and suggested that after listening to  it, we should watch the Michael Jordan movie about the shoes. When I sat down at the suburban Italian restaurant for a birthday celebration, I could not have predicted I would have a conversation about audiobooks with a server born in Guatemala. That server went on to describe dishes he liked from his native country, but he was also insistent that if (he said “when”) we visited his homeland that we visit a McDonald’s. When I said that I saw no point in getting a fast-food hamburger there, he said we had to experience the service in Guatemala. He maintained it was always wonderful, even at a Mickey D’s where someone opened the door for the customers and asked whether they would like to order there or at the table. He did not mention the quality of the food.

People amaze me. I took the crime novel Reykjavik off the library shelf. I had not read an Icelandic noir novel for a while. The book was co-written by Ragnar Jonasson and Katrín Jacobsdóttir. The jacket copy tells me that Ragnar has sold over three million copies of his books, is an investment banker, teaches copyright law, and has translated fourteen Agatha Christie books starting when he was seventeen. Katrín is the prime minister of Iceland (or at least she was when the book was published in 2022), has a master’s degree in Icelandic literature having written her thesis on Icelandic mystery writer Arnaldur Indrióason, and worked for media and publishing. She served as a minister in the government before becoming prime minister in 2017. She has a husband and three sons. (Ragnar is married with two daughters.) And I have trouble brushing after every meal.

The new billboard advertised a “wellness” place. When did “wellness” with its undertones of the new age, holistic stuff, and “proactivity” become a standard term? I always find the word at least slightly amusing. I would be happier if we could have more “goodness” products, places, and events.

We have indicted the aged Raúl Castro for his supposed part in shooting down planes that might have been in Cuban airspace thirty years ago. Have our authorities thought this through? We have killed two hundred citizens of foreign countries in international waters by bombing their boats. Will those nations indict Hegseth and Trump for murder?

Should I worry about my mental health? After the colonoscopy, I was told that everything was normal, and my first reaction was, “I went through all of that for nothing!”

Posted on by rjonakait

Snippets

What does it say about our patriotism or our education that the words of the national anthem now appear on those large scoreboards at sporting events?

In a park or outside an old house, I would come across a hand pump as a kid. Of course, I had to try it. The first couple strokes always seemed hard, but with minimal persistence they became easier. As I pumped, I would wonder if the pump still worked. Was there really water down there? Sometimes the effort produced nothing, but with others, a little water would spurt out. That sight produced a quickened, more forceful stroke. Then larger spurts, and finally, a stream without interruption. These efforts always produced a smile and a sense of accomplishment. Yet again, a satisfaction that most in a younger generation will never have.

“He is a prince.” Doesn’t sound derogatory; it is, in fact, a compliment. But compare: “She is a princess.”

There was such a difference between a woman’s magazine and a girlie magazine.

It was a typical Brooklyn supermarket—narrow aisles with small shopping carts and a limited selection. I was surprised to see ping pong balls. Brooklyn homes don’t have basement rec rooms or other places for table tennis. When I mentioned this to the nonbinary progeny, the NBP gave me an interesting look and said only a bit condescendingly, “The balls aren’t for ping pong. They are for beer pong.” Yet another time for me to feel my ignorance. And my age.

The man with the clipboard and distinctive vest approached me and said, “Do you like puppies?” Already late for an appointment and not wanting to be trapped by another fundraiser, I shook my head, kept moving and then, to my surprise, said, “I hate ‘em.” As I went by the clipboard man, he said, “You would be perfect for this.” I kept walking out of the subway.

Should I worry about my mental health? After the colonoscopy, I was told that everything was normal, and my first reaction was, “I went through all of that for nothing!”

The pessimist. Whenever I see a man walking with a flower bouquet, I wonder what he is apologizing for.

Questions I did not expect to be asked on the subway.  The young, purple-haired woman wearing a frayed, but clearly “vintage” jacket said, “Excuse me. Do you know geometry?” I looked over and she pointed to a sketch book on her lap.  An octagon was carefully drawn.  (During the ride I learned that it was going to be a frame for a mirror, and she was on her way to buy some reclaimed wood.)  She said, “If the diameter is sixteen inches, can you calculate the circumference?” I couldn’t.

What is your reaction when you are bored and turn on a sports channel just looking for anything competitive to pass the time and you find that a dog show is on?