These Times

Random thoughts for a day in April

Kirk Ericson | Apr 04, 20240

If you met your spouse at an orgy, you’d probably tell your kids you met at a big party and leave it at that.

“Lisp” is a cruel word. That word describes a condition that seems designed to invite mockery of lispers when they try to pronounce their affliction.

Many Americans have no desire to be rich. It seems sacrilegious, even heretical, to live in the United States and not want to be rich.

Overheard at the gym I go to, involving two high-volume men in the locker room: One was complaining to the other about his tennis reservation time being screwed up that day. “I’ve been making the same reservation on the same day at the same time for years,” one of the men said, overly peeved. He said he told the reservation taker, “This is on you.”

The other one said, “Yeah. That’s just the worst thing.” I considered, then rejected, joining their conversation by saying, “I overheard you talking about how your tennis reservation got screwed up and that it was the worst thing. You know what’s even worse than screwing up your tennis reservation? World War II.”

Do you know what all successful doctors need?

Lots of patients.

If you own a Togolese restaurant in an English-speaking country, you could advertise “TOGO TOGO.”

I was talking to a woman who mentioned something she wants to do outside this summer, and she put the word “summer” in air quotes, thus demonstrating a fluent understanding of summers in Western Washington.

Few of us know why we think what we think.

When Mrs. Ericson was pregnant with our second child, I had a dream. I was a pufferfish suspended in an aquamarine sea when I announced to no one in particular, “Get back! I think my egg sac is about to break!”

I’m waiting for more information before I decide whether to become an agnostic.

Precociousness is adorable in children. In adults, it’s nauseating.

The National Organization for Women is a broad-based group.

A couple with three youngsters visited our home for a couple of hours last week. I horsed around with the kids and the next morning I woke with a sore back. My next thought was, “Geez, Kirk. You’re not 60 years old anymore.”

I was talking to a 20something acquaintance at the grocery store that he works at when I asked what he had planned after his shift ended. “Not much,” he said. “I’ve got a couple of projects I have to finish at home, then I’m taking a long bike ride.”

“Not much.”

When you’re in your 20s, you have no idea just how much “not much” really is.

Idea for a skit: Teaching baristas in training how to overuse the word “perfect.”

The word “chat” can change dramatically depending on context. “Let’s chat” is one thing, but “We need to have a chat” means something far more ominous.

A word just learned: “Alexithymia,” pronounced uh-lek-suh-thai-mee-uh. It describes an inability to experience emotions. In Greek, it translates to “no words for emotion.” A psychologist writing a post at scientificamerican.com describes it this way: “Sometimes I work with children and adults who can’t put words to their feelings and thoughts. It’s not that they don’t want to — it’s more that they don’t know how to.”

Is it coincidental that the word “vagina” starts with the letter V?

Ideas for bumper stickers: “Anyway. What?” and “Please reference previous bumper sticker”

An apology that starts with “I’m sorry, but…” isn’t a real apology.