THESE TIMES

Random thoughts for a day in December

Kirk Ericson | Dec 07, 20230

It’s amazing how technology evolves. I recently learned you can get an at-home prostate test. How could that possible work? Do they just mail you a polyurethane model of your doctor’s finger?

The phrase “missing person” is inaccurate. The “missing person” isn’t really missing. He’s just not where everyone has already looked.

To really appreciate poetry, being in emotional distress helps.

At this moment, you

likely have some Tupperware item in your possession that needs to be returned to its rightful owner.

An ad hominem argument is when you attack the person, not the person’s argument. So … if you accuse someone of being the type of person who makes ad hominem attacks, that’s an ad hominem attack.

This gives me joy: Seeing a kid on a bike going out of her way to ride through a roadside puddle.

An attribute of Native and post-Native native Washingtonians: You don’t buy Atlantic salmon.

Most people who like to say “It’s just common sense” have none.

Imagine we discover the secret of the universe, and it turns out to be boring.

One of the worst things about dementia is not being able to forget you have it.

Saying “welcome out” should be a counterpoint to saying “welcome in.” You can use “welcome out” when you’re just outside a building entrance as someone is exiting. You’re welcoming them to the great outdoors.

What did the impatient and unadorned Christmas tree say? Flock me now!

Instead of “empty nest,” here’s a more positive metaphor my sister told me that better captures the experience of having kids leave the home: “Bird launching.”

The strictures and structures of our society are made to most benefit people like me: A college-educated, financially solvent, safely sheltered, heterosexual white male of average weight, above-average height, without physical or mental disabilities or infirmities. In the pursuit of forming a more perfect union, we should constantly expand the possibilities for people who aren’t like me.

Sometimes I ask people who are wearing a piece of clothing with a university’s name on it whether they went there. Most say “no.” If I was king, I’d make it a law that you can’t promote a university on clothing unless you graduated from there. This would especially include all sports ball fans.

A friend who lives in Silver Spring, Maryland, shared a lovely story after I sent him condolences last week upon the death of Shane MacGowan, the leader of the Irish band the Pogues. Joel is a fan. MacGowan died at age 65, a ripe old age for your average boozy Irish punk/folk musician, and my friend told me about meeting Shane and the band in 1986:

“In March of 1986, I drank about 12 Rolling Rocks (Shane had about 30) during three hours backstage after the Pogues’ second concert ever in the U.S., in Northampton, Massachusetts, near Amherst. He was fun, funny and he captivated me nonstop. He held his arm around me many times, and that experience summed up the joy and tragedy of Ireland for me. He told me the world changed forever when Charlie Parker died. Finally, their manager ordered them to bed. The band wrapped their arms around each others’ shoulders and staggered to their hotel. As I watched them, I was certain I would remember that moment under a streetlamp, with perfect street glow and shadows. Shane was singing and laughing. They were conquering America.”

Here’s a line from the Pogues song “Fairytale of New York”:

“I could have been someone,

Well, so could anyone.”

RIP, Shane McGowan. You were, and shall ever be, a free man of Ireland.