Al Batt: Backup in a bottle of ketchup

Published 9:43 am Wednesday, December 16, 2015

Echoes From the Loafers’ Club Meeting

I used a hundred dollar bill to start a fire in my fireplace.

Wow! You are dripping in money.

Not really. It was a bill from my dentist.

Driving by the Bruces

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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: Humiliation is good. It causes time to slow down. If you sleep well, it’s likely due to a poor memory rather than a clear conscience.

The cafe chronicles

I asked the waitress, “What do you recommend?”

She replied, “That you listen to your wife.”

The guy in the next chair ordered a minute steak. When it arrived, it was minute. He called for backup — a bottle of ketchup. He left an asparagus tip as a gratuity.

I watched a dramatic event at the next table. The waitress presented the check, signaling the start of a slow-draw competition among wallet owners. They finally gave the bill to the only one of them still working.

We were in one of the united states — matrimony

My wife enjoys knitting.

I don’t. Go figure. It’s a crazy world.

She uses performance-enhancing needles and needed a couple.

My wife found a knitting store. I parked the car.

“You should come in with me. It’s cold outside,” she said, knitting her brow. That’s what she does when she’s not knitting.

Goodbye cool world. I went in.

My idea of a good shopping experience is to sit and imagine what the other shoppers would look like without their cellphones.

Inside the shop, I was attempting to become one with a price tag when my bride mentioned that the business had a second floor. We walked upstairs, taking our shopping to a new level.

I love this and that

There are maybe 3,000 stars visible to the naked eye.

When my wife and I ring bells for the Salvation Army, I see more stars than that.

While ringing, I spoke with a buddy wearing one of those down jackets that made him look like a giant hand grenade. He reminded me that I had the right to remain silent.

A friend told me that she’d come to the supermarket looking for a dip. She found me. Another friend said that it did no good for her to hang mistletoe at her house. Her tall husband hits his head on it.

Then there were those snowbirds that were getting ready to go to Texas or Arizona, who secretly (or not secretly) harbored a wish that bad weather be our constant winter companion. That makes their escape a wise one.

From there, my wife and I joined Judy Hendrickson at the Kiwanis Holiday Lights at Sibley Park in Mankato. At this lovely place with an impressive display of Christmas lights, we collected over 1,065 pounds of food for the New Richland Area Food Shelf.

On the drive to unload the donated food at Trinity Lutheran, there was barely room to breathe in my car. There was so much food, that both ladies were buried under it.

Despite the cramped conditions that rivaled flying in last class, it was a grand way to celebrate the season.

My neighbor

My neighbor is a frugal fellow. He can get four or five meals out of a paper napkin.

As might be expected, the tires on his car are far from new. They are worn nearly beyond use. My neighbor had a flat tire the other day. He was running late and was unhappy. He was changing the tire and it wasn’t going well. He took to cussing. A local minister stopped to help. It didn’t stop my neighbor’s swearing.

“You’ll never get to heaven with language like that,” advised the pastor.

“Heaven?” replied my neighbor. “I’m trying to get to Hartland.”