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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