Winters have been colder and snowier lately, and summers have been brutal. This year is no different.
How hot has it been? Well, it’s been so hot that:
- The dad-burned Canadian Geese around here all flew back to Canada.
My eggs from the market were hard-boiled by the time I put them in the fridge.
My brain overheated.
The cacti plants outside in the garden are wilting.
The plastic ice-cube tray melted.
The barbeque grill self-ignited without propane.
The Bactrian camel at the local zoo grew another hump and is the world’s first three-hump camel.
Steadfast conservatives believe now in global warming.
Hell is allowing air-conditioners.
Bathing in the sauna is a relief.
My antiperspirant applicator is sweating.
My smartphone overheated and shut down during a conversation.
Brain freeze from eating ice cream is virtually impossible.
The word “cold” has been temporarily stricken from Merriam Webster’s Dictionary.
While typing the above bit, I couldn’t help but think of Johnny Carson and his coining of multiple catch phrases, like the title of this essay.
One knows he or she is stacking on age when they can remember late-night-show hosts’ retiring, and new talking heads taking over, like Leno and Letterman who are now gone as well.
I bet Mike Slickster can recall back to the days when the Tonight Show began.
Speaking of Letterman, I’ve been noticing more and more on Social Media that topics seem to come in mostly top-ten lists, or in groups of not fewer than five. Why is it, I wonder?
Maybe people feel a need to shovel more manure down everyone’s throat than is necessary. Perhaps it’s a result of our super-sizing society, as seen by the overwhelming obesity rates around the globe.
Here’s one more list to throw at you, sort of in fashion à la Steven Wright. A well-meaning friend sent it in an e-mail. I thought it was funny and something to ponder:
How come wrong telephone numbers are never busy?
Do people in Australia call the rest of the world “up over”?
Does that screwdriver belong to Phillip?
Why is it called “lipstick” if you can still move your lips?
Why is it that night falls but day breaks?
Why is the third hand on a watch called the “second hand”?
Why is it that when you’re driving and looking for an address, you turn down the volume on the radio?
Why is lemon juice made with artificial flavor, and dish-washing liquid is made with real lemons?
Are part-time band leaders semi-conductors?
Can you buy an entire chess set in a pawnshop?
How do you get off a non-stop flight?
How do you write zero in Roman numerals?
If athletes get athlete’s foot, do astronauts get mistletoe?
Why do they call it “chili” if it’s hot?
Why do we sing “Take me out to the ball game,” when we are already there?
Why is the time of day with the slowest traffic called “rush hour”?
Spending a lot of time this summer so far, cooling off at River Gorge National Park, I can’t help but wonder if my students are doing well with their summer-reading lists. I bet Johnny Hatfield isn’t. My choice presently is The Girl on the Train: A Novel by Paula Hawkins, keeping me on the edge of my lawn chair. What are you reading this summer?