Leftovers 08/26/22

As the summer rushes to a close (can Labor Day really be a week away), we start packing up to return to our normal routines. If you happened to rent a vacation home, it’s time to take stuff out of the refrigerator and either 1) toss it out or 2) take it home. Hint: toss it out. But it is our observation that most couples consist of a hoarder and a tosser outer. This inevitably leads to conflict. “But this yogurt is one day past its expiration date! Toss it!” Followed by “We haven’t even opened it. It’ll be fine tomorrow.” Followed by, “I won’t eat it!” Followed by, “Fine, I will!” Sound familiar? Well there’s a crucial step prior to the tossing out step. And that is the “to go” step at the end of a typical restaurant meal. Most restaurant meals are way larger than they need to be (except for molecular gastronomy, which we covered in early August) which leads to the inevitable decision at the end of said meal. The waitperson approaches the table with some form of “Would you like me to wrap that up for you/still working on that/do you need more time?” My least favorite end of meal request happened in a fancy Portland, Maine, restaurant when the waitress inquired, “How were your flavors?” I wanted to reply, ”I don’t know, eat me,” but decided (for once in my life) that marital happiness trumped cleverness, and responded, “Fine.” Back to the takeout. John pointed out that most take out containers make it back to the refrigerator (unless you forget them overnight in the back seat of your car) where they remain unopened for the rest of the week, before being tossed into the garbage -unopened and uneaten. You’d think we’d learned our lessons after repeating this habit after almost every restaurant meal, but nah, we’re likely to reply to the waiter/waitress, “Thanks, I’ll take it to go.”

Our other comic is also about leftovers. Leftover Covid tests, to be exact. Did you know that Covid tests have an expiration date? John did. I had no clue, but the knowledge that the tests had a time limit changed our behavior around the tests. We’re having company for dinner tonight? Ask them to take a test. You coughed, sneezed, felt tired, felt sad that the Mets got swept by the Yankees, take a test. I don’t know about you, dear reader, but I am awfully tired of continually sticking that overgrown Q-tip up my nose. Ugh! Maybe that’s why Dr. Fauci decided it was time to retire. In any event, stay safe and Covid-free and if it means sticking that swab up there again, and if I have to, then sigh, stick it I will. Have a great weekend and we will see you on Labor Day weekend as we prepare to launch into the fall. At least we’re all old enough to not have to go back to school.

Andy and John

Finally 03/26/21

Why finally? Because it links this week’s comics. Finally we got Sid out of the house and can plan what to do with his room. And finally we got an appointment for our Covid vaccine shots. First, about the Covid. As a man of a certain age, it reminds me a lot of Vietnam. Huh? Relax, I’ll explain. It was 1971 and yours truly was a freshman at Washington U in St. Louis. I sat around on the floor with a bunch of buddies listening to the radio announce birthdates that were being pulled out of a tumbler. Speaking of tumblers, we also had a bottle of crappy scotch on the floor and we kept taking shots when we didn’t get our birthday called. My roommate’s birthday was May 5th, and I was May 15th. The war was starting to wind down and only the first 50 birthdates called would have to enlist in the army. The voice called out, “Number 5…May 5th.” Now May 5th sounds a lot like May 15th, but it wasn’t, thank goodness for yours truly. My roommate, however, left for active duty and I never heard from him again. I hope he made it. May 15th didn’t get called until after number 250 so I was safe. But what reminded me of Covid is it’s the only time I can remember people hoping they were sick, that something was wrong with them. In the case of Vietnam, something wrong could get you declared 4F. I have no idea what that stands for but it means, you’re out. The army can’t use you. It’s like on a school test. F isn’t a low enough grade for you. You’re 4F. Take that! With Covid, if you weren’t yet 65, you’d have to have something wrong with you in order to qualify for the shot. Anxiety, depression, elevated heart beat, hypertension, you name it. The point is it’s the only other time I can remember people hoping their doctors would find something wrong with them. Bone spurs, anyone?

Next up on your scroll is the inevitable emptying of Sid’s room. All traces of Sid are gone, posters, clothes, shoes, books, hell, even Sid himself. It was what Al and Joanne wanted for the last 5 or 6 years. But, of course, now that he’s gone they miss the hell out of him. I will point out that hey don’t miss him enough to stop contemplating who gets his room and what they are planning to do with said room, once a winner has been declared. And like most marital squabbles, the guy has no chance emerging as the winner. Al, while not an easy man to live with, was easy to manipulate in this situation. A NY Giants foot pillow, to prop his feet up during games, was all it took for Joanne to win the day. Speaking for the entire male gender, we may not think we’re easy to outmaneuver, but trust us, we are. But don’t worry. Al will get his chance. Wait until they start to clean out the garage.

That’s it for this week. Have a great weekend and we’ll be back again next week with two new ones.

Andy and John