How well I remember the first time I saw a small child wearing pajamas in public. Starbucks, actually. She was very cute, despite the fact that her hair appeared to have been brushed with an egg beater. I assumed there had been a certain amount of chaos in the house that morning, the child refused to get dressed and have her hair tamed, and this was the result.

It was a while before I saw other children dressed similarly. But of course I did see them, because it had become a thing.

Today was different.

I was in a small store that sells groceries, coffee, sandwiches, pizza and ice. That covers a lot of territory, and the store is always crowded.

This morning I was waiting near a man who was probably in his mid-to-late twenties. Not only was he in his twenties, he was also in his pajamas. Lots of pajamas are made to look like regular clothes, but I've never seen regular clothes made to look like pajamas.

I also realize plenty of people sleep in their clothes, or get dressed in flannel pj bottoms instead of pants, but these were old-fashioned pajamas, complete with button top and matching bottoms. The pattern was typical pajama: red and tan checks.

He wore sandals, which I gather made him feel ready to greet the day, bed-head notwithstanding. And he wore a smug expression, a cross between “I can do this if I want to,” and “I dare you to say one single word.”

Now it may be that I'm the last person to realize that the world became one big pajama party while I was looking the other way. But somehow I don't think so.

If I run into someone I know one bright morning, and that someone is wearing pajamas, I will greet them with the obvious: “Good night.”

**********

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Saw the water heater leaking
Water level not yet peaking
Sent some photos to the plumber 
No hot water? What a bummer
Lots of water on the floor
Figured that's what towels are for
Used some old ones carelessly 
They got wet immediately 
Water spreading 
And we're getting
Lots of water
Now I ought-er
Start to dry it
Time to try it
Shop-Vac is my new best friend
Watch it make the sloshing end
Sucks up water like a pro
Love to watch that water go
Basement never looked so clean
Not that I have ever seen
Plumber's coming with new heater
Really nothing could be sweeter
Time to stop this little rhyme
Hot water's back - and just in time 

**********

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You're nine, ten years old. You've got a chip on your shoulder the size of a giant sequoia. Then someone says something — well, pretty much anything — that you don't agree with, or simply don't like, and there you are, saying “Wanna bet?”

Time passes. You are a full-fledged adult. You can rent a car, vote, and say “Wanna bet?” With any luck, you've lost that outsized chip on your shoulder but you still find yourself saying it when you completely disagree with a claim someone has just made.

But you know what? These days you don't even have to bother saying anything. There are betting opportunities everywhere, including websites designed specifically to allow you to place your bets.

And there are weddings. Yes, weddings. Apparently some couples (or, more likely, their wedding planners) are deciding that it isn't exciting enough to watch the happy couple start life together, then toast them and help them celebrate their Big Day.

No, no, no — that won't do. Guests need to feel a part of things. (Silly me. I thought that's what a wedding invitation was for.)

It seems what they really need is to be entertained, and what better way to entertain wedding guests than to provide them the opportunity to bet on things like which toast will be the longest, how often the bride will change her outfit, even how long the happy couple’s kiss will last.

I certainly hope they're not betting on how long the marriage will last.

There's even an app called Betting on the Wedding, which allows guests to keep an eye on the leaderboard and see how their bets are doing.

Ain't love grand?

**********

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• Italian Olympic soccer star

• Award-winning Italian designer

• Menu offering in Italian restaurant

• Inventor of pizza

Sorry, the correct answer is “None of the above,” which probably should have been one of the choices, but that's life.

Buffa di Perrero is actually a dwelling — or, more properly a hut — in the Italian Dolomites. It was built well over a century ago during World War I, carved into a sheer, vertical cliff face at 9,000 feet.

Sort of the “Where’s Waldo?” of the Alps.

Obviously there is nothing resembling roads in the area, but Italian soldiers got themselves to the site via rope ladders and dug a flat ledge to serve as the foundation, and they dug it by hand. Then all the building materials had to be pulled up the side of the mountain using ropes, pulleys, and makeshift cable cars. When the hut was finished, it kept soldiers, food and ammunition safe during alpine warfare.

Things being what they are, an enterprising real estate agent is probably scouting it out right now. I imagine the draft of the listing looks something like this:

Just listed! A mountain hut gem, tucked into a terrifying spectacular sheer, vertical cliff face landscape.This remote isolated secluded hideaway is not for the faint of heart ideal for the fitness buff. A unique opportunity. Run the other way! Act now!

And then the correct answer to “Who or what is Buffa di Perrero?” will be:

• A real estate agent’s nightmare dream

**********

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I know there are such people, but honestly? I cannot IMAGINE how anyone is capable of this degree of serenity. Even Mother Theresa must have had her limits.

We live in a frustrating world. You take something brand new out of the box, only to find a piece is broken and the whole thing has to go back. If you bought it online, and had the misfortune to take it out of the carton just as the recycling truck came, and you were so happy to haul it out to the curb and get rid of this big thing immediately, well….

Waiting for things that work

Waiting for systems that work

Waiting for Godot

**********

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I finished an article
Read by AI
It didn't sound fake
And of course I know why
The voice that I heard 
(Not robotic at all)
Just sounded so natural
But I can recall
That when "she" stopped reading
I blinked in surprise
Her voice hadn't finished
Was still on the rise
As if even though
She had read all the words
She had no idea
That she sounded absurd
And it did seem to me
As if more was to come  
But instead just dead air
So I knew she was done 

**********

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I have seen them on the dishwasher, on the coffeemaker, and when I am filling out a form online, among others. Usually it says “E” followed by a digit or two, so you can imagine how very honored I once felt when I got — filling out that online form — “Error 510”.

Granted this gives a certain amount of information, but not, unfortunately, to me.

Is it too much to ask to have, instead of an error message, some kind of feedback? For starters, how about this: Whose error was it? If it was mine, I wouldn't mind a little hint as to how to avoid it the next time. If it wasn't, don't make me hunt for the answer in a manual that, most likely, never included it in the first place.

As for manuals, the paper ones are being replaced by QR codes that you can scan and link to an online manual This is just like the old paper ones, except with teeny print, making it a lot harder to find out that it still doesn't list your error message.

That coffeemaker, by the way, still provides a paper manual, but it has been upgraded to have, instead of words, a series of confusing little drawings, so it can be misunderstood in any language.

Progress.

**********

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“Well, then, INVENT IT!” roared the king. And so they did.

Years, decades, centuries passed. Coke was popular. Oooohh was it ever popular. Soda shops were invented just so people could sit at the counter and drink Coke.

Then one day a CEO somewhere demanded that consumers drink Coke out of a glass bottle. His people looked at each other in dismay, until one of them said, in a trembling voice, “But sir! It has not been invented yet!”

“Well, then, INVENT IT!” roared the CEO. And so they did.

It was soooo popular. The people loved it. Until they realized the bottles were heavy and broke easily and they'd rather go to the soda shop.

More decades. Another CEO. He demanded that consumers drink Coke from cans. (Of course it was “he.” Women CEOs hadn't been invented yet.) More dismay. Another trembling voice. Another roar. And Coke cans were invented.

Things in the wonderful world of Coca-Cola were going swimmingly. Until someone came up with the bright idea of putting 12 cans in a box. A long box. The boxes were designed to be stacked on store shelves, so that the magic words — Diet Coke, for example — could easily be read. Because the boxes were long and unwieldy and hard to grasp, they were made with a perforation in the center of one side so it could easily become a handle.

And now we come to the problem, one that serves as a nice metaphor for the world as we know it today: Instead of perforating the top of the box, which would have made perfect sense, they perforated one side, or maybe it's the other side, or maybe it's the bottom, which did not make any sense at all.

Because “sense” hadn’t been invented yet.

**********

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Then, on July 1, 1963, the US Post Office Department officially replaced zones with five-digit “zip” codes, which stood for Zone Improvement Plan. Twenty years later, the nine-digit code was introduced.

At that point, I needed to write a poem. And here it is:

They used to call it "zone"
(It was easier to phone)
And the digits numbered one, maybe two

They renamed it "zip code"
(Did they think it was "la mode"?)
And the digits numbered five, none too few

Now the zip code's lost its zip
("Postal Service Loses Grip!")
As we're headed for a nine digit fright

Though the research that we see
(That pertains to you and me)
Shows that seven is the most we can recite

Why this change from bad to worse?
Why be lengthy? Why not terse?
Is this alteration just another dictum?

Oh, well, everything is higher
Buy a stamp, a steak, a dryer
Seems inflation has decreed another victim

**********

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Or maybe it would be more like walking into an art gallery that has nothing for sale. And all the pieces are HUGE. You can’t hide a refrigerator all that easily. Not to mention a stove and a sink. You could have fun revealing everything but that, giving new meaning to ”everything but the kitchen sink.”

Apparently many of the owners of these hidden kitchens don't cook. Imagine my (lack of) surprise. For a lot less money, you could simply eliminate the kitchen and turn it into a walk-in closet, as some woman did according to an article I read decades ago.

The “Where’s Waldo?” of Kitchens

So you can hide the kitchen. Why stop there? Next thing you know, they'll be hiding the living room couch, chairs and TV in big expensive cabinets that look, for all the world, like kitchen appliances.

Photos — New York Times

**********

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Apple Watch: Hold on a minute (little time joke). Since when can you speak?

Timex: Since…never. I know you talk. You’re a regular chatterbox with your phone calls and recorded books and reminders! So many reminders!

Apple Watch: Then how come you’re talking now?

Timex: Does the word “fiction” mean anything to you?

Apple Watch: Not off hand. Just a second (another little time joke) and I’ll Google it.

Timex: Don’t you know anything? You spend most of the day Googling one thing after another.

Apple Watch: It’s one of my best features. I’m known for it. My people have the world at their fingertips. How about you? What are you known for?

Timex: I’ll give you a hint. I’m a TIME-ex. Get it?

Apple Watch: Not really. I’ll Google it.

Timex: Stop with the Googling already! TIME! I tell TIME! (Mockingly) It’s my best feature. I’m known for it.

Apple Watch: Me too! Me too! Watch this (another little time joke). Wait, I just have to…(fiddling with dials and screens)…Darn! I know it’s here someplace!

Timex: “The world at their fingertips,” huh? And yet — they don't know what time it is. Great. See, this is the problem with you. You’re all over the place. I don't even know what you look like, what with your face changing constantly. You never specialized. Me? I specialized like crazy, and now I’m famous! “Takes a licking and keeps on ticking!” That was the old ad. Drop me on the sidewalk, forget to take me off when you go swimming. Anything you throw at me, I bounce right back, no problem.

Apple Watch: I can be all things to all people.

Timex: If they can afford to buy you. Me, I’m cheap. Really, really cheap. And proud of it.

Apple Watch: But I’m flashy and new. I come in colors.

Timex: Yeah, well your precious screen needs protecting. If you get dropped on the sidewalk, you’re toast.

Apple Watch: People buy insurance to take care of me.

Timex: Yep, they do. Nobody needs insurance for a Timex.

Apple Watch: I’m in such high demand that people steal me.

Timex: True enough. I sincerely doubt anybody ever stole a Timex. People feel safe with me. Say, can you do this? (Pushes in stem and activates blue light) They call this Indiglo. It lets you see what time it is even in the dark.

Apple Watch: Hmm. Well…I better go. Meeting Rolex for coffee.

Timex: Rolex! Give him my best.

Apple Watch (incredulous): You know Rolex?

Timex: We go way back, long before you were born — um, introduced. We “hands free” types like to hang out.

Apple Watch: Okay — So long! Until next time! (Another little time joke)

(Apple Watch leaves)

Timex: That guy drives me crazy.

**********

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The whole thing started when someone in ancient Rome had to take the oven racks out of the self-cleaning oven before running the cleaning cycle, having discovered with another oven that leaving the racks in place during the cleaning process caused the finish to break down. The result was that the racks never slid smoothly again.

And so this ancient Roman, who could've been ancient or middle-aged, put on an old toga, since aprons that said “Do yourself a favor and leave me alone. I’m cleaning the oven racks” hadn't been invented yet, and set to work.

Then the Roman changed back into a nice toga in order to run down to the marketplace (literally) to buy a can of spray-on Oven Rack Cleaner (pronounced “odium” in Latin), which old Seneca, who contained all wisdom and knew all things related to home economics, had recommended.

Two hours later, the oven racks were deemed clean enough, the old toga had been burned, and it was time for the Roman to think about what to make for dinner. Preferably something that would boil on top of the stove.

Which brings us to the present time. Have you ever had the pleasure of cleaning burned-on grease from your oven racks? Please leave a comment with any suggestions (other than buy new racks rather than clean the old ones). Thank you!

NON-RANDOM BONUS CONTENT: Seneca famously said, “We suffer more often in imagination than in reality,” although probably not in English. He began to rethink the whole thing while cleaning his oven racks.

**********

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I really like to dictate
When I'm writing on my phone 
And whether text or email 
I get right into the zone

But now I have a problem
With these messages I write
A problem that arises
In the day and in the night

The sentence that I'm working on
Has ended now, I think
And so I dictate "Period"
And suddenly - a kink

I thought there'd be a little dot
The kind we often see
To indicate the ending, right?
I'm sure that you'll agree

Instead the word itself appears
No small dot - just the word
It actually writes "period"
Although it seems absurd

The period's not anything
We normally anoint 
Nor is it just a tiny dot
But literally - the point 

**********

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This is big business, with a price tag to match. If you remember the old adding machines, this would be a good time to picture them exploding.

There is a poem dating back to the Victorian era that says a bride must have, in order to bring good luck, something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.

You could combine all of them in one big debt, the gift that keeps on giving:

Something old = the usual. Short on cash Something new = this particular debt Something borrowed = the cash 
Something blue = you

But apparently bankruptcies aren't all that popular, because lots of smart, cost-cutting measures are starting to get attention. They may be saying yes to the dress, but they're saying nyet to the debt.

The Happy Couple may get married during the week instead of the more expensive weekend. They may skip the wedding planner, limit the guest list, make the invitations with templates they find online, rent the dress and the suit, have a DJ and a playlist, buy flowers at Costco or Trader Joe's. They may decide to get married on a beach or a mountain top or in an automobile showroom, ask guests to take pictures with their phones, serve box suppers they’ve put together themselves.

They'll come out the other side with a nest egg instead of a debt. It looks like you can have your wedding cake and eat it too.

Here's to Happy Couples everywhere!

**********

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When we were young we learned to say 
"Yes, please" and "Thank you" every day

But not just once! Repeatedly!
We learned the lesson, you and me

Remember "please," the magic word
(Even though it seemed absurd)

We said our "please" for EVERYTHING
(This has a most familiar ring)

And "thank you" was demanded, too
When ANYTHING was done for you

Those pleases, thank yous, were a habit
When we saw a chance, we'd grab it

Showing off our manners royal
Fruit of all those years of toil

Which brings us to the present time
(And makes an easy, pleasant rhyme)

Since I use Siri every hour
(Everywhere but in the shower)

The problem that I have with Siri
(So helpful that I call her "Dearie")

Is that I need not be polite
Whether it be day or night

No "please" or "thank you" is required
For her, my manners have retired 

But to this day I must admit
From time to time I slip a bit

Since habits are so hard to break
There's the occasional mistake

I accidentally thank the bot
(It sure sounds crazy, does it not?)

'Cause bots have zero use for manners
(Or paper plates or daily planners)

Such manners are a useless frill
No need for them in Siri-Ville

**********

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If, on the other hand, the print is small and the signs are only at one end, these are not my people. I will squint my way through the store, trying to guess what is in each aisle. That looks like a short word, so maybe soup is down here someplace.

Or I can walk along the other end of the aisles, craning my neck in order to read signs directly over my head, while I weave my way through the shopping carts lined up in the check-out lanes.

The final test is how useful the signs are. This is an actual sign that was in an actual store:

The same store did not list pasta or tomato sauce anywhere.

**********

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Insomnia comes from the Latin, meaning OMG I WILL NEVER SLEEP AGAIN!

If you haven't had the pleasure, insomnia comes in three flavors: Faux Sleep, when you fall asleep and have what amounts to a nap, after which you are wide awake; No Sleep, which is basically Faux Sleep without the nap; and Delayed Sleep, when sleep finally comes shortly before your alarm goes off.

So what can you do if you have insomnia, besides drag your way through the following day? One of the more humorous suggestions is to get out of bed and do something productive until you feel sleepy. This to a person who has gotten out of bed because they don't feel sleepy. And if you don't feel sleepy when you're actually in bed, where you're supposed to sleep, I'm not sure why you would feel sleepy when you're up and around.

Insomnia does have one thing going for it. Haha just kidding. Not even one.

All insomnia is good for is crossword puzzle answers. All those vowels. Not one of which is in SLEEP.

**********

For a real-time demonstration of insomnia, you might want to read this, Diary Of An Insomniac, which I posted on 2/28/24:

What time is it? I can't see my watch! WHY CAN'T I SEE MY WATCH? Oh, wait. I forgot to open my eyes. 3:05. I also forgot to buy gas. Amazon should sell gas with same-day delivery. I think I’ll suggest that. I’m going to add less milk to the pancake batter next time. Is thick the same as fluffy? Is it cold in here? Somebody should make a tiny vacuum cleaner to empty a pencil sharpener. I think I’ll suggest that. How old was I in 1950? Maybe I’ll get a llama. Those “calming” apps are infuriating. Now what time is it? 3:10. Great. Can insomnia kill you? Would your obituary say you died of insomnia or from insomnia? I think I might actually be asleep. Is that possible? Maybe I’m dreaming that I have insomnia. I think I’m talking too much for a dream. Pretty sure I don’t narrate my dreams. 3:11. Nope, still awake. I love watermelon so much. I think I’ll start growing it. Which reminds me — I could get up, but as long as I’m lying here, at least it's possible that I’ll go back to sleep. I wonder who invented sheep-counting to get to sleep. How would you go about doing that? And why would it put you to sleep? Are sheep really that boring? Amazon should sell sheep-counters. I think I’ll suggest that….

**********

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A retronym (nope — that's the second time I’ve used it in a short space and AI still doesn't recognize and autofill) is a word that requires something extra in order to define it, due to the kind of cultural and technological change that time inevitably brings.

Let's say you are talking with someone and conversation turns to cameras. Suddenly you realize you and the other person are talking about two completely different generations of cameras. Now what?

Enter the retronym, ready and waiting with “film camera,” and all becomes clear.

Maybe the conversation is about phones, and you want to talk about old phones, not cell phones. Our by-now old friend the retronym offers “dial phone.” Surprisingly helpful.

Live music, snail mail, acoustic guitar, manual typewriter, desktop computer, brick-and-mortar store, analog watch.

“Retro” recalls the past, or, as I like to call it, the fifties. “Mid-century modern,” and all that. One of these days, I’ll have to specify just which century I’m talking about. “Retro” won't begin to cover it.

**********

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I read a recent article
That didn’t make a particle
Of sense

But after some reflection
And a little recollection?
INTENSE

‘Cause every time you Google
(When you’ve finished making kugel)
You get

Those facts that you then go on
Use to settle bets and so on
No debt

That’s AI at your service
(Which makes you kind of nervous)
And now

It seems that AI makes
Occasional mistakes
Oh, wow

The question we should ask
Is - Can it do the task?
Because

The “A" is Artficial
But is it beneficial?
Let’s pause

The “I”? Intelligence
It can be pretty dense
And wrong

It sounds authoritative
And always like a native
So strong

Correct? Another matter
About which there is chatter
And fright

It's scary when you find
That AI may be blind 
Not right

So is it fact or fiction
This AI-fueled depiction
Who knows?

Remember when you use it
That you can still refuse it
And close

AI-yi-yi!

NON-RANDOM BONUS CONTENT: from BAMBOO, Getting On 1/5/25: I briefly wondered if “bamboo” was related to “bamboozle,” a great word for duping someone that I never remember to use. I learned two interesting things, thanks to Google:

1. Yes, bamboo and bamboozle are related, possibly with the idea of a true motive hiding behind a bamboo curtain.

2. No, they are not related.

**********

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Fake fur – or faux fur, as it is often called, because it's French and automatically sophisticated — almost always turns out to be made from polyester and acrylic. In other words, plastics. Who knew?

And now, there is a new kid on the block. It is fur-like and plant-based. That's right — like fur, it grows. Unlike fur, it doesn't grow on animals.

Plants such as hemp, nettle or flax are used to create something that does not look like it grew in a field. Just put in a little rayon or silk, add water and stir. Bake one hour at 350° and you have a fur coat.

Okay, maybe not, but those really are the ingredients. If this sounds like a delayed April Fool’s, check it out here. Prepare to be amazed.

No animals were harmed in the writing of this post.

**********

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