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a
8 ——May 14, 2020
i
news letter journal iii ..
editor@newslj. com v
Primarie ar August "
PLEASE VOTE!
Paid for by Hans Hunt, candidate for House District 2,
State Legislature
9900
Celebrating
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Heroes during
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Fresh
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lng customers Deb Sweet, Toniua Me
‘ (You’re talking to yourself,”
I said to myself. “I know,'I
know,” _I answered.
“You’re such a moron sometimes,
you know.”
Okay, that line pissed me off, and I
decided not to answer it. ‘
It’s not all that unusual. I’ve talked to
myself all my life, sometimes to my own
embarrassment. You see, I have a very
active imagination. I will see something
that interests me; alarms me or whatever
draws my attention. My mind asks stupid
questions like, “What if ...?” and
my mouth engages while my
brain seems to take a hiatus.
I remember driving in the
country at Christmas time. It was
night, and I had a friend with
me. As I drove past a ranch-
style home, I slowed way down,
because it had more Christmas
lights than I’d seen in a long
‘time. I mean, this house was a
landing strip for NASA. As I
approached my favorite speed, full-stop,
a lady comes out the door and just stands
on her porch looking at me with her hand
up to her eyes. She had the entire power
grid of the West Coast being used only to
power the lights on her house, and she’s
trying to figure out why someone would
slow down to look at her home. Anyway,
after clearing the stars from my eyes, I
took off again.
I told you I have an active imagina-
tion, right? Well, it kicked into full
active mode. She thought I was a
burglar. I was particularly interested in
her home. She just knew I was coming
back to empty all the presents from
under her tree. She got a good look at
my car, rushed into her home, called the
cops, and they were now in hot pursuit
of 'me, 'all because of what she thought I
was up to. As I imagined getting pulled
over and the cop asking what I was
doing, I said, out loud, “Well, officer.
I was just looking at all the Christmas
lights on that house. ...” Remember that
. Blackberries
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ssmer, and Daniel Yonkee.
I wasn’t alone in the car, right?
“Who are you talking to?” my friend
asked in a voice that spoke volumes. He
was now convinced that he was being
escorted around by a lunatic.
So, you see, it’s not that I talk to
myself that bothers me. It’s that someone
might overhear it, which has happened
more times than I care to admit. I’ve
even gone so far as to say, “That’s what
happens when you talk to yourself.” And
I’ve said that out loud while someone
else was in earshot. When I get caught, '
I usually feel like such a moron
sometimes, you know.
In my marriage to Connie,
this has happened with some
frequency. You’d think I’d learn
by now. But as I stated before, ’
and have reminded myself out
loud, I’m such a moron some-
times, and the current evidence
confirms that. A couple of weeks
ago, I was in the kitchen cooking
dinner. I had just finished
watching a video on one of the YouTube
channels I subscribe to. It’s a science
channel, and physics was on the menu
for that day. Now I read about theoretical
physics a lot and watch a ton of videos
about it. So, of course, I play with the
concepts in my head. The problem
comes in when I struggle with something
someone said. And this guy knows his
stuff, but do I just take his information to
heart? Of course not! I disagree with an
expert, and the next thing you know, I’m
talking about it
OUT LOUD.
“Who you talking to?” Connie asked.
I didn’t even hear her walk into the
kitchen. But then I couldn’t hear anything
above the conversation I was having at
that time.
“I, uh um well...” and that’s
about as far as I got.
“You’re such a moron sometimes, you
know ”
“I know, I know! That was already
pointed out!”
~ p Our Family
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Photo by Walter Sprague/NLJ
During the “Car-ona Cruise" on Friday and Saturday nights various
vendors have been selllng goods to people out
and about. On Friday, cotton candy was for sale outside of The Antlers.
Pictured are Ruth and Gabriel Rose, serv-
YOu’re such a moron sometimes, you know
Okay, Comic didn’t call me a
moron, but I heard her thoughts. They
were conveyed through the raised
eyebrows and shake of her head. Her
thoughts splashed out of her shaking
head, flew through the air and burrowed
into my auditory system.
But that brings up another inter-
esting question. Why did I have trouble
explaining myself to my wife? I don’t
know. I have no problem coming up with
stuff to say to myself. I’ll ask myself a
question. I’ll answer it. I’ll admit I do
love having someone really smart to
talk to. But that can’t be the problem
here, because my wife is brilliant. I have
to put that line here in case she reads
this column. I alsp know it’s the smart
thing to include that bit of information
because I just had a back and forth about
the pros and cons of putting in the fact
that Connie is smart. The pros won out.
Mostly because I didn’t answer the ques-
tions about it with “I, uh um well
...” I actually had an answer, and it was
sound, logical and to the point. And when
I have something smart to say, I shut up
and listen. And furthermore I know she is
smart because she told me so. And when
that happens I really shut up and listen.
I’ve found that there are a lot of other
things I do all by myself that are not a
single-person activity as well.
except when I do them. The
other day I was playing chess with
MYSELF. It began with the classic Ruy
Lopez opening.
“Pawn to king 4, pawn to king 5,
knight to king’s bishop 3, knight to
queen’s bishop 3, bishop to knight 5,”
and on it went. Yes, I called out the
moves as I played the game. I remember
one time I made a specific move and
looked at it.
“That’s a really good move,” I
observed after having lost my knight.
“I know. Mate in five.” I replied.
I’m glad to report that Iwon that
game. But then my opponent is such a
moron sometimes, you know.
Our Family;
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or Chunk ;
Cheese
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