Who looked at the towels?

We were shopping on Sunday, a unique experience because now that we are empty nesters, we realize that we haven’t been shopping together for a long time.

We wandered around for a while separately, looking at various things and finally came together. My wife was holding a number of items to look at, several Christmas presents for the girls, a new, large can opener for my daughter in Toronto as the kids’ had broken, and some other junk. As well, a completely new set of bath towels and wash cloths in a matching green colour that will work with our larger bath. They were heavily discounted, so it was a bit of a bargain.

We got into line and waited to be served.

We arrived at the checkout and I was given the total. It seemed like a deal but I had not really been paying attention, and gave the woman my credit card and off we went.

As we exited the store, my wife quietly asked me, “Did she charge us for the towels?” I had to admit I wasn’t paying attention because, as each item was rung up, the clerk bent forward to put the item in the bag, lower down on a shelf, and she had incredible cleavage! I truly only paid my attention to that.

I had noticed, as sometimes it’s not nice to stare, that she had some trouble with the towels ringing in, and she tried three times, and even I heard the correct ding from the machine. But, perhaps it was an incorrect ding, but I was lost in cleavage land so I’m not sure.

In the world of conspiracy theory, this would have been done on purpose to confuse me and we would have been overcharged, but alas and alack, we were undercharged. In fact, when I got to the car I looked at the slip and we were never charged for the towels.

In a perfect world we would have rushed back and demanded forgiveness for making off with the towels. Not in my perfect world however, would this happen.

I smiled!

The Girl in the White Terry Cloth Robe - reposted from October 24, 2010

 

I was looking through some old stories and this one brought a smile to m y face. There is no update, just a fond memory.

 

This story is a bit over the top and my son, the editor, will ask me to remove it but I will stay the course, because it’s good.

 Let’s start with the basics.

I was not married at the time of this story, and I was not cheating on anyone. I was a free agent so it’s OK to tell without getting into trouble.

 

My wife does not read this blog so I am free of worry except for those of you who read it and know her, and it may become a bit of a problem, depending upon your big mouth!

 It is in no way is bad, it’s just an old man’s memory and a good tale to tell.

 My neighbor was a fine young woman who I have written about before in these pages. We did go out together for a while, and this part of our story may have been from those times or perhaps immediately after it had ended, but clearly before she moved away or was married.

 

The young lady in question would call me from time to time early in the morning and invite me to breakfast, or at least to come over and have coffee with her in the mornings. Sometimes she would have a Danish or a bagel, but always a cup of coffee. Both of us had to go to work, so it was an effort to do these things and have enough time to get dressed. This, in fact, was the biggest part of the story, as I was dressed when I arrived, at least my tie was on if not pulled up, and I was ready to leave after getting a few items and could easily leave. She, on the other hand, was always about to get dressed when I arrived. She was, in fact, always the girl in the white terry cloth robe. This was not a big deal, except the robe was never closed, and she was never dressed!

 You see the problem already I’m sure. I had a few minutes to spare before I left, she was about coffee and getting dressed, and she pretended not to have planned all this. I was nonchalant about the whole thing, as you can already tell, because I’ve never forgotten it!  She was cool about it because she knew I’d not react!  And so we had a standoff! An all but naked young lady and an aging man, all dressed for work! And so we had coffee as she proceeded to get dressed.

 

I never broke my composure, she never expected me to. We had a beautiful relationship! It was a perfect liaison, if I were a gay man! However, it was a huge turn on and turn off simultaneously!

 

She moved, I moved, she got married and eventually, so did I. I heard from her after her divorce once, and I heard from her late in 1989, I think, as I left for Boston and she was about to marry her second husband. I never asked if she still “wore” the robe!

The Phone Call

The phone was ringing and I was late. I was trying to get ready for my Board meeting, and the phone was going. I have a phone that tells me who is calling by saying it, so I don’t have to go and see who it is.

It was McGill University on the phone and I stopped. OMG, I thought, something is wrong with my daughter and they’re calling me. A father thinks like that when his kid is so many hours away, and off I ran to retrieve the phone.

The McGill University Parents Fund, of course! They had me! I should have known. If my daughter was in trouble it would never be at 6:00 p.m.! Only telemarketers call at that time.

I was caught and had no escape except the truth. I did not want to listen to his discussion points; I just wanted to know how much it would cost me for him to go away. He agreed not to explain it to me if I gave money, and so I did.

Ain’t life wonderful!

We are related to vegtables...

T

The Hubbard squash is another cultivar of the species that usually has a tear-drop shape. They are often used as a replacement for pumpkins.


According to one source, the name comes from Bela Hubbard, settler of Randolph Township, Ohio in the Connecticut Western Reserve. Many other sources list an alternate history. These sources state the hubbard squash (at the time nameless) came to Marblehead, Massachusetts through Captain Knott Martin. A woman named Elizabeth Hubbard brought the fruit to the attention of her neighbor, a seed trader named James J.H. Gregory. Mr. Gregory subsequently introduced it to the market using Mrs. Hubbard's name as the eponym. Gregory later bred and released the blue hubbard, which has a bluish-gray skin. The other major variety, the golden hubbard squash, has a bright orange skin. Gregory advertisements for the squash date from at least 1859. The hubbard squash, including questions regarding the name, is even the subject of a children's ditty, "Raising Hubbard Squash in Vermont".

However, some say the hubbard squash has a mysterious origin, possibly named after a Mrs. Elizabeth Hubbard, who lived in the 1840s and gave seeds of the squash to friends, thus increasing its popularity. It is not known exactly where the Hubbard was first grown, but most winter squash varieties are known to be New World foods, meaning they originated in the Americas. It can now be grown almost anywhere with enough sunlight, water, and warm weather; the seed is known to be quite resilient and grows best if planted during the spring to allowed to grow all summer.

We seem to have another story, as true as these things may be, as my wife’s Grandfather’s Uncle claimed he “invented” the Hubbard Squash and named it after his wife’s family, as Hubbard was her maiden name.

We have always assured our daughters that the Hubbard Squash was their cousin.

ubbard squash is another cultivar of the species that usually has a tear-drop shape. They are often used as a replacement for pumpkins.


According to one source, the name comes from Bela Hubbard, settler of Randolph Township, Ohio in the Connecticut Western Reserve. Many other sources list an alternate history. These sources state the hubbard squash (at the time nameless) came to Marblehead, Massachusetts through Captain Knott Martin. A woman named Elizabeth Hubbard brought the fruit to the attention of her neighbor, a seed trader named James J.H. Gregory. Mr. Gregory subsequently introduced it to the market using Mrs. Hubbard's name as the eponym. Gregory later bred and released the blue hubbard, which has a bluish-gray skin. The other major variety, the golden hubbard squash, has a bright orange skin. Gregory advertisements for the squash date from at least 1859. The hubbard squash, including questions regarding the name, is even the subject of a children's ditty, "Raising Hubbard Squash in Vermont".

However, some say the hubbard squash has a mysterious origin, possibly named after a Mrs. Elizabeth Hubbard, who lived in the 1840s and gave seeds of the squash to friends, thus increasing its popularity. It is not known exactly where the Hubbard was first grown, but most winter squash varieties are known to be New World foods, meaning they originated in the Americas. It can now be grown almost anywhere with enough sunlight, water, and warm weather; the seed is known to be quite resilient and grows best if planted during the spring to allowed to grow all summer.

We seem to have another story, as true as these things may be, as my wife’s Grandfather’s Uncle claimed he “invented” the Hubbard Squash and named it after his wife’s family, as Hubbard was her maiden name.

We have always assured our daughters that the Hubbard Squash was their cousin.

All in the palm of your hand...

I am sure that people have written PHD’s on this subject, and I just have a personal take on it all. It’s the phone thing, the self-focused phone thing that takes normal people away from us and puts them in some zone from which they do not return very quickly.

I had an experience last week at a dinner, which left me with the realization that we have all gone somewhere else. Sitting around in a pre-dinner mood, having drinks and snacks with a group of six people, in conversation, I began to notice that we were losing group members gradually, until there were just two of us. However, unlike the same activity in the past, no one had walked away; they just drifted into their hands. Their focus was all phones!

I admit I have a cell phone and apps galore, and with the help of reading glasses I can get lost as well, but I don’t rely on my phone for life experiences. I do look up things if need be but not unless it’s called for. I don’t use it for email so I don’t worry about that part of my life, although texts seem to play as large a part in some lives anyway.

People seem to dive into their palms and not return. The focus just shifts into the magic of dreamland or somewhere. I know I can do the same with a computer, but never have the chance to sit in a group full of people with computers.

I see this of course in Doctors waiting rooms and airport lounges, but sitting down at a dinner party crosses that line. Toilet texting is probably a game as well, and the first time I knowingly received email from a toilet I did laugh.

There needs to be a solution. Human interpersonal skills are bad enough without this distraction but now we can all just sit and stare. Whole wards in institutions used to be full of people sitting and talking into their hands.

We used to see and hear people walking down the street talking to themselves and we thought they were crazy and now we believe they’re talking on a phone.

Look up and see me! “Tommy can you see me……….”