Friday Donuts

  Friends, I don’t know about you, but my household tends to use things a tad beyond their reasonably useful life. Cars, razors, pillows... heck, we squeezed the last BTU out of our home’s 25 year old thermostat —15 years is for rookies. This week we bid our fire pit farewell. Structurally unstable and rusted to the core, this contrivance was well on its way to returning to the soil. Memories of s’mores, cigars and shared spirits come rushing back, as does the six foot tall cardboard peach burned atop it, which caused the first stress fractures in the waning days of 2019. Good times! I suppose nothing lasts forever, but memories can add a sense of permanence to the fleeting. So go, grab a donut and make some new memories!! Happy Friday!

Friends, Predicting the future is like driving in the freezing rain with a malfunctioning defrost. It’s possible to follow the car in front of you, but further objects appear blurry (and, of course, objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are — RIP Meatloaf!). While this harrowing experience is often reactive, there’s hopefully a reason you’re on the road. Could your eleven year old self have guessed your path? Perhaps not. Would they approve of your current station? If so, that’s awesome! If not, you can always switch lanes (or get off the freeway to scrape some ice off the windshield). If you’re lucky there may even be a donut shop at the exit! Happy Friday!   P.S. Any resemblance between driving metaphors used in this note and my Wednesday commute is purely intentional

Friends, Expectations and reality don’t always align. When I noticed the layered salt deposits forming on the brim of my running cap I envisioned a pleasing texture and patina would eventually cover the whole article --if only I resisted the urge to wash it. A few months later, it’s clear the experiment has failed and the unsanitary results should be burned. Or, take these words emblazoned on a commercial vehicle: “FIRE WATER SMOKE MOLD”. I half-expected an itinerant shaman promoting alcohol and smoking fungi as tools for a vision quest. The disappointing truth, it turns out, the company specializes in damage restoration. I find the best way to overcome such cognitive dissonances is to take a breath, bite into a donut and laugh your unreasonable expectations out of the room. Happy Friday! The Well Aged Cap The Itinerant Shaman

Friends, The English language has over 170 thousand words, not counting obsolete and derivative words. With so many words to choose from, selecting the right one can be challenging. The choice between a ten-cent and a fifty-cent word often comes down to the writer’s intent. Informing (or disinforming) the reader vs. amusing (or aggrandizing) the writer. Striking the right balance between clarity and elegance is hard enough without the allure of highfalutin, unnecessary words tempting us to literary lechery (apologies for succumbing to temptation). While the writer’s word choice can hint at their motivation, whether a word is right or not comes down to legibility. If the reader enjoys an article, who cares how much the writer paid for their words. Kind of like a good donut: if it tastes great, who cares about the ingredients. Happy New Year!      The wrong photo ;-)