"A fool and his money are soon parted." ~ Thomas Tusser, (1524 -1580), English Poet

Here we go again. I do think at times my daily visits are like a merry-go-round. Once you get it started, you have no idea when it will stop. That being said, welcome to Thursday, April 27, 2017. I appreciate those who coddle me by reading the stuff I sling onto the electronic page. Most of you may have heard about these wonderful jeans that are currently on sale at Nordstroms. They come complete with fake mud woven into the fabric. You can have your own pair of muddy looking jeans for 425 one dollar greenbacks. Since I am a self-appointed observer and critic of the culture we live in, I have some thoughts about this product. Are you kidding? $425? I've been in trouble more than once for pointing out to folks how their jeans are torn or ripped. It was my attempt to make a joke. I know they paid good money for those ripped up jeans. I suppose I will be in real trouble if I tell someone they need to go home and wash their muddy jeans. I've actually had jeans that looked like those being sold at Nordstroms. They looked that way after spending all day helping to dig a septic tank. They looked that way after spending hours repairing plumbing or wrapping pipes underneath the house. The ones I had likely came from Sears and they cost around $5 and the mud was not fake. We've all heard the saying attributed to showman P. T. Barnum, "There's a sucker born every minute." While that saying may fit the Nordstroms purchasers of the fake muddy jeans, experts don't think P. T. ever uttered those words. One reason is because the word "sucker" was not in use at that time as a metaphor for gullible souls. There are many theories on who actually said it, but, you can look that up for yourself.

To be honest, I don't really care one way or another if someone wants to pay that much for fake mud dyed into denim. It's still a free country. Well, mostly free. I read somewhere about a lady who was comparing pressure cookers online and ended up being checked out. By the authorities. You know. Pressure cooker bombs. We have a great old pressure cooker. It quit working many years ago, but, it's what I use to make our popcorn. It does a great job on popcorn. It can be counted on to consistently produce melt in your mouth deliciousness. My wife does occasionally use that stuff pressed into the little package for use in the microwave. I suppose it will do if one is in a real bind, but, there's nothing like real popcorn done on the stove top. It's like the coffee thing. I worked with a fellow one time and he said they drank whatever coffee was on sale when they went to the grocery store. I think we may have done that same thing back in the day. We would get whatever large tub was on sale with a coupon. Some years ago I came to realize that life is short and I might as well enjoy Community Coffee with the time I have left. We do the same with our popcorn. That's how us old folks roll.

While I am not a full time professional Santa Claus, with my daily wearing of the white beard and red cap, I do get plenty of Santa recognitions. Add the red or green suspenders and it escalates. The other day I was gassing up the Company's big truck when a lady in a van backed out to leave. She moved up a little, stopped suddenly, and then backed up. She had a little guy in the passenger seat that wanted to get a look at the fellow at the gas pump. I waved and his face lit up. Dare I say it? Like a Christmas tree. A millisecond of joy. That's what I'm talking about. The other evening at our family gathering to celebrate the wife's birthday one of our grandsons came to me with some information. He said, "Poppy, those people over there are talking about you. They say Santa Claus is at our table." He got the biggest kick out of that. See? I didn't make contact with those people but he overhead them and it caused him to enjoy the moment. The other evening I asked the wife why she wears so much black and white. It was nothing more than a throw down observation. In a few minutes she came back and said, "Do you have a problem with what I am wearing?" I could tell by the tone that she had totally misunderstood my comment. Then she put this one on me, "Well, tell me why you like to wear red suspenders?" I apologized. That's what people who look like Santa Claus do. Or, that's what they do when they have only two options, slim and none. Just a jolly little joke. Ho, Ho, Ho. Have a great rest of the day and may God bless one and all, and to all a good night! Amen. ....More later.