Friday Donuts

Friends, My wife and I have a Costco routine: she shops while I wander, tasting the free samples whilst adding unplanned items to the shopping cart—you know, impulse buys, snacks, booze. Occasionally, I also get asked to fetch an item from the far reaches of the store. On our last visit, my task was to get some probiotics, so I wandered off to the pill section. After an eternity (10 minutes) of slowly checking and re-checking each shelf, I was no closer to accomplishing my goal. I was, however, chuckling at how they had chosen to organize one particular row. In it, conveniently located next to each other, were stool softener, condoms, hemorrhoid medicine and prostate vitamins. I’d love to know how they named that aisle. Who knew Costco had a sense of humor? I will say they missed an opportunity to add donuts to the mix—pillows, not pastries. Although, on second thought, the latter might be considered more appropriate. In the end it took my wife 19 seconds to find the probiotics (I was

Friends, Does your inner hypochondriac ever make you wonder whether you have an undiagnosed mental condition? Whether it’s ADHD, OCD, ASD or some other acronym ending in D, we seem bent on labeling any distinct behavioral pattern we find as a “disorder”. Part of me feels that having a diagnosis and a name would take an integral part of who I am and make it something that needs to be “treated” or “cured”. I’m not talking about debilitating conditions or extreme cases that prevent you from functioning in society—each of us should make that call for ourselves and seek professional help if needed. Rather, I’m worried about tagging and treating normal neurological variability because it absolves us from personal responsibility. Maybe the “D” should be for “Donut” instead of “Disorder”, after all a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down—and I’m sure there’s at least that much in each sweet pastry. Better yet, a donut should be the prescription—talk about taking sugar pills, and the ens

Friends, There’s something missing this fine morning. You might not notice it on first inspection, however, once you’ve seen it, it won’t be unseen. So, fetch some coffee with donuts to ponder this mystery. Don’t worry, there’s nothing to fix. You’ll need some clues to solve it, so follow them—don’t quit! You don’t need it to describe bioluminescent beings emptying their bowels in frictionless cryogenic environments. Your doctor might tell you to utter this sound when checking your tonsils. The missing element is commonly found in writing. In truth it’s the third most used letter in the English tongue. By now, I expect you’ve likely got it. If you look closely, you will notice the missing letter. This is no mere clicking sound either. Just look from here to “Z”, then you will see. The first vowel is conspicuously omitted from this note. Why? Well, why not? Here’s wishing your weekend’s eve will be delightful!

Friends, In the multiverse, if you can imagine something, it has happened on a parallel planet. Out there, citizens laugh at the terminology we choose to use. As mementos from my trip to one such verse, I bring you some definitions found in their version of Newton’s Telecom Dictionary.  Fiber optic . Medical services combining digestive health and eye care.  Cell phone .  A device momma amoeba uses to text daddy amoeba her last minute shopping requests, usually when he’s already paying for groceries.  Firewall .  Backdrop where firing squads implement summary executions ordered by revolutionary kangaroo courts. Ready. Aim… Broadband .  All female musical group from the Bronx.   SIP Trunk .  Idiom used to describe what elephants do with their proboscis during high tea.  Of course, any world worth living in must have donuts. Which reminds me, I need to go grab one.  Happy Friday! -JP González 720-480-4116 P.S. While today's images were created with the help of DALL·E, an AI system by