It isn’t necessarily news you can use, but I’ll admit morning television can be food for thought. While I read the newspaper in the morning, a morning talk show gives me “pop news,” the weather everywhere but here (thank goodness for local cut-ins) and topics that will be discussed “around the water cooler.”
We don’t have a water cooler at home, and my husband leaves early. I usually have no one to discuss these hot topics with.
Perhaps the most unbelievable thing we’ve heard about lately: the scaled-down, way down, seats on airplanes. Thankfully at this point it’s just a suggestion by someone who obviously has never been on a plane for longer than five minutes. Also, they’ve never ridden a bike for more than two blocks.
The idea is to have fold-down seats shaped like bicycle seats with about five seats close together in a row side-by-side. I assume you still get a seat belt, but no fold-down tray. Where will we put that $10 cardboard sandwich we bought? I think the reporter said the seat back won’t recline. When the drawing of the proposed seats came on the screen, I said aloud to the television, “You’ve got to be kidding.” The first person I mentioned it to, my friend Sally, who has flown all over the world, said the very same thing. We decided you might want to bring your own tray and pray for no turbulence.
She wanted to know if you pedal while flying so you get your work out in. That idea makes a little more sense. We thought maybe it would be only for commuter flights. Then we decided 20 minutes would about do it on that bicycle seat so it would be better to just drive, or ride a real bike and save a ton of money.
This is one idea I can’t imagine coming to fruition, but if it does, buy stock in any company that makes foam rubber pillows.
Every year we hear about the Running of the Bulls in Spain and watch footage of men running, wild-eyed, through the streets with big bulls running after them. Every year there are a few Americans who decide to go be chased by unhappy bulls with the guys in Spain. And every year one or two of them get injured.
It reminds me of the women who line up at Filene’s in Boston for the annual bridal gown sale. Shoppers rush in when the doors open and create a flurry of tulle and crinoline, not to mention hands and elbows. It, too, is a chase, and that’s no bull.
Being chased by any type of animal, or crazed bride-to-be for that matter, doesn’t appeal to me. Even with injuries and sometimes a death, the There’s-a-Bull-After-Me runners say the event is “thrilling” and “exhilarating.” Maybe so, but as they run and sometimes try to crawl up the side of building, they appear to be thinking, “Yikes, what was I thinking?”
How did you get my number?
My pal Nancy Reeves was working at her desk in the Music Theatre Wichita office when she answered her constantly ringing phone. “Is this the Nancy to call for a good time?” the caller asked. She told the caller that yes, she was Nancy, but asked what he was talking about and asked who was calling. Turns out her name was written on a jail cell. But it was the jail cell that is part of the set for the play “Hairspray.” The scenery, which was built at MTW, had been rented to a theater in California. A young actor noticed Nancy’s name and number and decided to see if the number was real.
“It was so funny,” she said, blushing as usual, “When the set was here no one said a word.”