Tag: just goofing around

Wenzdaz Wandering Thoughts

The Great Penny Adjustment of 2025 has begun! Here’s my two cents about it.

The last penny in the United States was minted, ending a 238-year run.

The last pennies minted sold for a mint.

Last US cents sold at auction for a sum of $16.76 million were worth a pretty penny

Yes, there’s a national penny shortage now because pennies are no more. Well, there are no new ones. Hoarding pennies is a contributing factor. People hope their pennies will be worth more someday…

Here in Ashlandia, businesses are adjusting. My current favorite coffee hang, RoCo, has announced that due to the penny shortage, change will be rounded off to the nearest multiple of five. They’re always giving me six cents in change. I’ve always told them, “Keep the penny,” or dropped it into the ever present penny bowl.

Will the penny bowl remain? Doubtful. I mean, why would they?

Now BiMart has a notice up: “Due to the nationwide penny shortage, please pay in correct change.”

They owed me 88 cents after my purchase. I told them to keep the pennies. The cashier replied, “Thanks. I only have two pennies left.” Then she took a nickel off the top of the register. “Someone found this and gave it to me. You take it.” I laughed and accepted, thanking her. That was the gracious thing to do. I’ll pass it on to someone else.

Penny for your thoughts?

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Twozdaz Wandering Thoughts

I live on Clay Street. Diane Street is three blocks away. It’s to the north, so it’s ‘up north’. But it’s at a lower elevation, so it’s ‘down the road.’ I pretty comfortably hold these two ideas in mind, even though they might appear to be at odds with one another. I suspect that this is why so many of The Neurons are packing up and abandoning me.

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Mundaz Wandering Thoughts

I park the car and head up the street towards the coffee house. As it happens on other days, four more people are making the same trek. We all share an urgency and focus to our movement. I think again, we’re like ants going toward a piece of food, and amuse myself again, thinking, coffee ants. I can almost picture the others with waving antennae…

Coffee ants. Coffants.

Brewants?

Espressants?

6

Sundaz Wandering Thoughts

My wife greeted me from the kitchen as I entered the house.

Then she said, “You’re not going to be happy with me.”

“Why?”

“I used the last of your blueberries.”

Walking in behind her, I said, “What did you say?” As she repeated herself, I held up the pint of blueberries I’d purchased on my way home.

Astonishment lit her face. “How did you know?”

“I was watching you on the house cam.”

Suspicious doubt swept her astonishment away. “The what?”

“It’s a camera installed in a wine bottle. I put it in before we went to Pittsburgh.”

“You did not.”

Laughing and walking away, I replied, “Then how did I know?”

I later caught her peering at a wine bottle. Saying nothing, she gave me a look that was loud with accusations.

5

The Coffee Shop

I broke out of my writerly cocoon this week. I typically get into the coffee shop, find a table and seat, assume the position and shut down to being friendly. I have met Kim, another writer, and chat with her regularly, but briefly. We each respect the writer’s privacy and methodology, so while we will emerge to joke and exchange words, we shut back down and get down to our respective writing processes.

Meanwhile, though, there are dogs. People bring their pups in with them, a practice I applaud. Living in Europe, it wasn’t unusual to encounter dogs in restaurants, cafes, and shops. I’m fine with them.

And the dogs are fine with me. But because they come and visit me, I end up chatting with their people. Then the people open up with their curiosity about what I do there each day. In explaining, others overhear. They volunteer later, privately, that they’re a writer, too. It’s a veritable writing hive.

I also ventured out of my cocoon on my own. A woman sat down beside me yesterday as I was wrapping up. She put a book down, along with a notebook. Always interested in people’s reading material, I glanced over. The book’s title was A Wild Life, a book about women in botany and their discoveries. I have several botanist friends, learned, intelligent, charming people who are passionate about botany. I said, “Pardon me, I saw your book. Are you a botanist?”

“I wish,” she responded.

We chatted about the book and why she chose it. A local person, Lucretia Saville Weems, is the author, and the woman saw it in Bloomsbury’s local authors section and was interested and bought it.

Packing up, I said my goodbyes to her but wasn’t done socializing. I’d noticed a young couple. She was wearing a One Piece sweatshirt. My wife and I are One Piece fans, so I had to pause to compliment her on her top, and then we talked about the television series and enjoyed some laughs.

Probably just something in the air for a few days. I’m back in my cocoon today, ready to get to it.

5

Satyrdaz Wandering Thoughts

As I sit here typing, I’m aware of a hair. It sits on the left side of my left eye’s vision. It’s been pestering me for two days. It’s from the Eyebrow Tribe. At first, I just brushed at it. Then I tried finding it in the mirror and pasting it down. When that failed, I tried jerking it out with my fingertips. Should’ve gotten tweezers to seriously address it but no, I was in the middle of something else and was rushing myself. Or should I just clipped it back. Tsk.

And here it is again. Sitting on my vision’s edge, mocking me.

Curse you, little curly hair. Curse you. This isn’t over.

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Mundaz Wandering Thoughts

Sort of funny how we use the word charge and how its meanings has shifted.

We used to say things like, “Then he charged at me,” or, “That animal charged me.”

More often for a while, we heard charge in, “He was charged with the crime of soliciting,” or “He was charged with drunk driving.”

Later, charging things via credit cards were in vogue, such as, “I’m going to charge it for now, and then I’ll pay it off later.”

Now we say, “I didn’t charge my phone and now it’s almost dead. I have to find a charger.” Imagine hearing that forty years ago, if you’ve been alive that long. What were you charging in 1985?

Of course, imagine back in 1970 if someone asked you, “Do you have a laptop?” You’d think they were crazy, asking such a question.

C’est la vie.

4

Satyrdaz Wandering Thoughts

My laptop computer informed me of its battery status.

Battery fully charged 100% Fully smart charged

I thought, WTF? Isn’t that just three ways of saying the same thing?

The Neurons pursued that a little. I suppose someone somewhere, reading that their battery was fully charged might wonder, “Does that mean 100%?” And another might wonder, but if it’s fully charged and 100%, is it also fully ‘smart’ charged.

Admittedly, I don’t even know what ‘smart charged’ is. Probably means something to someone, but not me. 100% charged is good enough for my math.

4

Fridaz Political Rant

I read about Trump bragging about his golf game, oh boy. That rekindled a lot of memories, like, many many memories.

Dizzy Donny Trump — Donny T, I called him — Donny T, he like that — Donny T and I used to golf together. Like, all the time. He was so impressed with my game. He told me many times, “Your swing is the best swing I’ve ever seen. Your swing is so beautiful. It’s the greatest swing I’ve ever seen and I’ve golfed many times with many many famous golfers, professional golfers, even. None of them swing as well as you.”

Beside my swing and my drive, my putting skills stunned into stupefied admiration. “My god,” he said after I sank a thirty-foot putt. “Do you ever miss?” That’s what stopped us from playing more. I was always beating him, and he finally told me, “You know what? I can’t take it any more. I’m not playing you anymore. That’s it. You’re just too good.”

I know what he means. I am that good. We used to talk about it a lot when we were flying around together. I used to fly him all over the place, lot of times cause he was meeting with his friend, Jeffrey. Dizzy T told me that I was the greatest pilot to ever fly him. I replied, “And can you believe it? I never even took a flying lesson. I signed up for them but once they started teaching, I kept correcting them because these experts didn’t know how nearly as much as I knew about flying. Once I showed them I could take off and land, they just gave me my pilot’s license.”

Trump was wide-eyed with envy. “I wish I was like that,” he said. “I would fly myself. I also am a remarkable pilot. I never took a lesson, either. I could just do it. Military pilots I fly with always tell me, you should have been a fighter pilot. You’re amazing. I know they’re right but I was too busy with other things, like winning the Nobel Peace Prize.”

I nodded. “I know. Same here.”

I haven’t seen Trump in years. He won’t even take my calls. Claims he doesn’t know me. Doesn’t remember me. That’s because his wife once told him that she wished that she’d married me instead of him. But that’s another story.

Don’t believe me? I don’t believe it. I don’t get it. Why not? I sound just like Trump. And as you know, he tells it like it is. He never lies. And neither do I.

I just write a little fiction.

5

Wenzdaz Wandering Thoughts

The coffee shop will be closed on Thanksgiving Day. That’s the bottom line to this. To me, great. Be with family or friends or whatever works in your sphere.

No, my problem is in their poster announcing their closure. They say they’re closed Thanksgiving Day.

On November 26.

Umm, hello? That’s today. Tomorrow, Thursday, Thanksgiving, is November 27.

Being the anal fellow I am, The Neurons forced me to mention it to the staff. And yeah, as I told The Neurons, the staff knew. But they were okay, because they were emphasizing that they were closed on Thanksgiving, regardless of the date. Nobody else had mentioned the error, if it was noticed.

It’s okay. Last year, Thanksgiving was on the 28th. Next year, it should be on the 26th, and then the signs will be okay. The Neurons aren’t happy about it, but then again, they’re rarely happy.

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