The Happiness Thread

What,no pen?

 

According to her mother, Cassie is um, kind of pissy and witchy about her writing utensils. When it's time for back-to-school shopping, kiddo takes a lot of care in picking out her tools. Doesn't need any help from any dumb adult.

 

I know that feeling. Almost fifty and I still spend fifteen minutes in the stationery shop picking out just the right pen. Although you could have tried to hook her on fountain pens

 

Her parents often talk about when they were in Staples and Cassie was blown away with how expensive some of the fancier pens were.

"I can do the same thing with the ones that cost a dollar as I can those!"

 

Warning: Old Guy Flashback. I recall in elementary school that when handwriting class rolled around, we were allowed to use the ball point pens, which were a novelty back then. I'm guessing fountain pens were still the standard back then, and we kids were pretty much limited to pencils. What a distant world.

BTW, for some reason I couldn't think of the term "fountain pen" so I asked my son if he knew -- he suggested quill pen, but I'm not quite that old.

 

I once got asked if when I was a kid I used to play with a hoop and a stick. I laughed (it really did strike me as funny) and said of course not, I'm not that old. But I said I did need to use a tall stool to get on my bike with the giant front wheel (which I believe were called penny bikes?)

 

Penny-farthings, god knows why.

 

No wonder they made you a moderator.

 

She's a teenager now, she writes in blood and tears.

 

^ What, no Sweat? Sorry, reference to an old band most probably haven't heard of.

 

Iain, I'm not so sure.

 

Cool!

Yup.

No idea here either

 

The local community center has Wi-Fi so I go there every day to write, market research, etc. There have been many times when a dad shooting hoops with his daughter will take the time to talk with me. We will talk about when Iowa had six-on-six girls high school basketball. The daughters are always like, "That didn't happen," so I go to YouTube and show them. They always react as if that's weirdest thing they've ever seen.

Also, I completely understand young pro wrestling fans not knowing who Buddy Rogers and Lou Thesz were, or Terry Funk and Harley Race. I become annoyed when they don't know much about Hulk Hogan and Ric Flair.

 

Here's to old times.

 

Yeah *munch munch* of course *chomps tickle me pink* stupid Marines *shakes crayon dust from box out*

 

There's a macaroni and cheese crayon.

 

But at least the chicken stew-like paste comes in a self-heating bag, just add water. Pretty cool even when the food tastes like sawdust.

 

Try the beef stroganoff cold. I never once ate one warm because of lack of time. I've never come so close to puking while starving. Saving grace! It came with skittles. But in boot they take the skittles away.

 

I'm old. The "four fingers of death", aka four hot dogs, Tuna Noodle, and whatever they called that abomination of an omelet.



We were the first generation to get M&Ms and Tabasco in some MREs. The Cherry Nut Cake and the Orange Nut Cake tasted just like the crayons they eventually subbed in for them though, damn good.

 

That looks like a slab of plastic runoff.

 

That would taste better.

 

When I was a kid my best friend's father was the commander of the regional national guard, and he stored stacks of boxes of K-rations in his basement (simpler times in a small town). * We kids used to sneak though them and take out the candy bars and the cans of chicken and tuna. Sometimes the cigarettes. We had sampled everything, so avoided anything especially disgusting. If the rations were ever needed by real GIs, there would be more disappointment than normal.

*It just now occurred to me, for the first time after all these years, that maybe those rations had been illicitly taken by the friend's father. After all, there was a large armory in town; also the friend's father, who had been a local icon, mayor and owner of the local feed mill, eventually went to prison for embezzling from the grain accounts of area farmers at said feed mill. My parents always believed that said embezzlement was simply poor bookkeeping. Many years later I happened to be working in a case that involved the then-county attorney, who assured me that, no, there was no innocence involved. Except, perhaps, the loss of another bit of my childhood innocence.