IT IS COLD, and by “cold” I mean I lost contact with one finger while doing errands tonight. It was numb by the time I got to Cub, the third stop. Fine, deal. Get a cart - it had palsied wheels. Rabbida rabbida rabbida rabbida, driving me nuts. Get another one: it’s got a club wheel, and goes CLONK every revolution. Take that one back. The next one had a used Kleenex in the basket. No. The next one had some strange white goop. No. Fifth time’s the charm.
The store is in the midst of a massive upgrade that’s taking forever and appears to be accomplishing nothing of substance, but the clerk at the self-checkout told me they’re getting new carts when it’s done. It should have been the first. Cart condition is the first thing customers notice, right? No matter how nice the store, a shuddery cart wheel makes you feel peevish about everything.
I got a box at the office last week, and just by shaking it I knew what was in it.
How could I tell? The box was full of stuff that was similarly sized, but shifted around, which mean they weren’t all the same size. They shifted around because there were many individual pieces, all flat. That could only mean one thing. When I get a box that’s light and has an indistinct shake, as if it’s full of chopped-up circus peanuts, it’s matches. The thick side-to-side shonk-shonk: recipe books.
Mister H in Austin: I salute you!
Although . . . at first I have to confess I felt slight dismay: OBLIGATION. I must vet, perform triage, scan, resize, write. Just the other day I finished scanning a big batch of covers and inside illustrations, some of which go to the catch-all covers site, others requiring a site of their own. And by “require” I mean there is absolutely no requirement at all. I do not have to do this. Yet I do.
OBLIGATION. It’s as if I have been entrusted with these things, and the Gallery of Regrettable Food is the Super Bowl, the show, the one place where they’ll have a moment in the sun. Except that it’s not! There are other sites that display these; archive.org abounds, but on the other hand, archive.org. They just scan and post, and scanning and posting is not enough. Comment must be made. MUST - CURATE - RECIPE BOOKS
All because someone from the Welcome Wagon gave my Mother a copy of Specialities of the House when we moved into our new house in 1962, and I kept it, and put it online in the Paleolithic era of the internet before we had scanners, and a book followed, then another, and I get tagged to this day on Twitter when someone posts a picture of a grisly aspic.
Let me just say this.
I am honored. It may be that my obit calls me the Bard of the Beanie-Wienie Casserole, but I brought it on myself.
Would you like a preview? Of 2021, or possiblty 2022? Of course! Bygone packaging:
The Eagle reassures you that this Mexican stuff is still 100% American, friend.
Mom's real! Her family is fictional, and gluttonous.
I should check to see how much S.A.S. Phosphate I have on hand.
If that thing rotates and groans, I'm thinking it's the origin for a detail in the Hellraiser movies.
And now, my friends, a reprise of the challenge.
What are the chances of this thing showing up twice in one week of scanning and posting?