NYSE suspends trading

Sometimes I like to walk around with my phone pressed to my ear and pretend that I’m engaged in some high pressure stock trading. “Get me out of pork rinds at once, Barney! I can’t take that kind of hit! And sell everything I’ve got in Spam futures, I don’t like the way things are shaping up in Taiwan. Buck up, Barney, China can’t buy all the gold. If the Dow keeps torquing this way, we’re going to be rich by Labor Day.” It’s great fun and it really wows the people streaming by me on the sidewalk. Of course, doing this on Wednesday with trading suspended because of some technical issues, I just looked like an idiot. If you can imagine it.

Best stock tip I ever got . . .

came from a shoeshine boy out on lower Lisbon Street just days before The Big One. That’s a completely true story, too, except for the fact that it happened to someone else, happened in New York City, happened nearly 100 years ago and probably never really happened at all. And you can take that to the bank. But don’t. Hide it under your mattress or bury it in the back yard, instead.

Am I raving?

It kind of feels like I’m raving right now. I blame the holiday weekend. Totally messed me up and I forgot that my column was due today. Not to worry though, I fully intend to produce the same quality craftsmanship you’ve come to expect from this space. And I mean that.

‘Back to the Future’

Saw it at the drive-in. You know? I had completely forgotten what a charming and well-crafted movie that is. Just a joy to watch.

‘Back to the Future II’

Saw it at the drive-in. You know? I had completely forgotten what a giant pile of manure that is. Seriously, someone needs to flux capacitate back to 1989 and kick the producer square in the pants.

The new St. Mary’s sign

A couple people told me I just HAVE to check out the new St. Mary’s sign in front of the hospital on Sabattus Street in Lewiston. I went over and looked. It says “St. Mary’s.” I don’t get it. Wait, is this one of those things where you have to keep staring at something until the hidden image reveals itself? Cool! If you need me, I’ll be standing in Sabattus Street traffic and squinting for the next three hours.

You better shape up, mister

So, apparently summer school is a real thing. Back in my day, it was mostly a mythical concept, a lame adult attempt to get the kids to buckle down. “If you don’t improve your grades, Mister Man, you’re going to have to go to summer school.” Pttth. Lame. We were also threatened frequently with the prospect of being sent to a reform school. Which sounds completely Orwellian, now that I think of it. “You better start toeing the line, Winston, or we’ll ship you off to reform school.” Man, childhood was fun!


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