I recorded today’s podcast while I was sitting here in my big, comfortable, manly, black leather poppa chair in my living room, trying to digest a food supply crisis, caused by the closing of our favorite supermarket. Depending on how you look at it, it’s either terrific or terrible. It could be terrific because the supermarket we’ll be going to across the street has generally cheaper prices which I like, or it’s terrible because my Lady Wonder Wench doesn’t like brands of food they sell. My Lady Wonder Wench does our food shopping because she knows and likes lots of the people who work there, she knows where everything is, and she doesn’t like my approach to finding stuff in a supermarket. When I go, I usually find an attractive lady, and ask her to help me find what I’m looking for because I’m not familiar with where they keep stuff. I’ve found that many attractive ladies are glad to help a lost and confused Louie Louie Generation guy… and what’s wrong with that?  I get my shopping done faster, I get to talk with some nice ladies, and the ladies feel good about helping a nice, elderly gentleman. I think it’s a win-win situation, but my Lady Wonder Wench disagrees. It’s all in how you look at it....including virtual copanion

One Response to “Dickie-Quickie”

  1. Betsy says:

    Your thoughts on the supermarket closing down remind me of this story the character Marilyn told on the TV show “Northern Exposure…”

    “My uncle once told me about a warrior who had a fine stallion. Everybody said how lucky he was to have such a horse. “Maybe,” he said. One day the stallion ran off. The people said the warrior was unlucky. “Maybe,” he said. Next day, the stallion returned, leading a string of fine ponies. The people said it was very lucky. “Maybe,” the warrior said. Later, the warrior’s son was thrown from one of the ponies and broke his leg. The people said it was unlucky. “Maybe,” the warrior said. The next week, the chief led a war party against another tribe. Many young men were killed. But, because of his broken leg, the warrior’s son was left behind, and so was spared.”