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Truly Useless Observances for July 2026

Sunday, May 26, 2024

#Underheard: Hell, That Gums The Mustard For Fair Right Now!

From the desk of Broderick Mitchell --

Do you remember the last time a neighbor came by to borrow something? Do you remember the last time you visited a neighbor to borrow a cup of sugar, coffee, or flour?

It seems like the sort of thing you saw in period entertainment from the 1950s or thereabouts—like women jumping on chairs at the site of mice. I never saw this growing up, but popular media convinced me it happened. Perhaps I would have seen it happen more had I been a cartoon.

Have you ever exchanged mustard with someone out driving? I never saw this either, but I would have liked this more than jumping on chairs. What's not to like about it? You're out driving. You're hungry. You pull up alongside someone else and ask if they have mustard.

In my youth, I now tell, I tried lots of things,
But didn't like mustard at all.
But leaping on chairs asking rodents for food?
Goodness, I hadn't the gall!

I grew into mustard as I grew up, though I'm still hesitant about plain yellow mustard. Which turned out to be a good thing because my neighbor came over a couple of days ago, asking for Dijon mustard. I really wish I had some, if only to reenact the old Grey Poupon commercials. But of course, I didn't have any regular Dijon. There was a mostly empty bottle of honey Dijon and some stone-ground mustard in another container, and I had used neither in what looked like years. I felt guilty about pawning them off on him, but he needed it quickly and didn't have time to run to the store. Part of me wanted to check the date on the side to get a sense of how long I owned it, but I didn't think doing this in front of the neighbor would win me more fans.

How often do you need mustard urgently, anyway? This story had a good ending, though. The neighbor didn't feel the need to return with the empty bottles or—thankfully—replacements.



Several local commercials for an injury lawyer have appeared on television for years. The firm's name is Wilbur Wright. Somewhere along the way, he began promoting himself as "Willie Wright," which is why all those compensated endorsers call him that in the commercials.

"Call Willie Wright now!"

Wilbur used to appear at the end of the commercials, telling the viewers to "demand respect" in whatever predicament they found themselves in. It sounds good coming from a Yosemite Sam-like guy with a gruff voice and a comically large cowboy hat. It was a white hat, too, because no lawyer would dare wear black and be considered the heel. Right.

"Call Willie Wright now!"

The grand parade of the usual paid actors shifted last year. Instead of reading the same dry lines about Willie, people recite poetry, rap, or sing. Singing is a generous word, and the actor generously doesn't share too much of his ability. I'm not going to describe his accompanying guitar playing as I'm convinced it is just a prop to make him look authentic. But an authentic what? Actor?  

"Call Willie Wright now!"

Oh, right. Dalcy has grown tired of me in recent years of asking the television if I am supposed to call Willie Wright now or call Willie right now. Gotta love homophones. I like to think the commercial script writers caught this sort of thing, but I'm not giving them that much credit.



Overheard a coworker last week bragging about a dream in which he beat up the person responsible for the Liberty Insurance jingle.

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