Thundersnow is more than just a myth

Published 10:44 am Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting
“What did you do today?”
“That’s what you did all day yesterday.”
“I know, but I wasn’t finished.”

Driving by the Bruces
I have two wonderful neighbors — both named Bruce — who live across the road from each other. Whenever I pass their driveways, thoughts occur to me, such as: Minnesota and Iowa have many mini-seasons that are long lasting.

I’ve learned
1. I can’t have everything. Where would I put it?
2. Bowling balls do not make good flyswatters.
3. Few things are worse than that moment during an argument when I realize I’m wrong.

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My neighbor
My neighbor Bump Whistlebritches is a part-time pinhead down at Bowling Elaine’s Alley. Bump runs a restaurant in town called Bump’s Burp and Belch. It’s a city landmark and important to the locals. People meet at Bump’s eatery to decide where they are going to go to eat.

I told the caller that we had thundersnow. I was in Minnesota. He was in Arizona. It was February in both places. He laughed when I told him about the thundersnow. I explained that it was a mixture of lightning, thunder, and snow. He laughed again. He likely thought that thundersnow was mythical like the jackalope (a jackrabbit with antelope horns) or the chipbuck. The chipbuck is a chipmunk with deer antlers. The chipbuck population remains small because once a chipbuck grows substantial antlers, it is unable to fit into its burrow. Coyotes eat most of these unprotected chipbucks. Coyotes have proven to be little threat to thundersnow.

School daze
I was having a tough day in junior high. I moaned to a favorite teacher, one with a sympathetic ear.
“The sad thing is that I’ll be in this school until I’m 18,” I whined.
The teacher sighed and said, “I’ll be here until I’m 65.”

A rural philosopher
Jerry Viktora of Ellendale told me that he likes to get up at 10, slow down by 11, and nap at noon. It’s an interesting philosophy. It’s too bad Jerry works too hard to take advantage of it.

Getting groceries

I was in that bent over position that people assume when they find themselves stalled with a shopping cart. I was waiting for the traffic to clear so that I might push the cart up and down the aisles. I leaned on my cart as I watched a man, dependent upon a cane, seat himself on one of those electric carts that made it possible for him to shop. I could tell by the skill he employed in situating himself that he had spent considerable time in such carts. He looked up at me, smiled and said, “Let’s see what this baby can do.”