Talk of the Town Ernie Anderson
Don’t get yourself in a twist
So, for the past week or so, I’ve been reacquainting myself with all the useful knots I used to know. I’m talking Tautline, Bowline and Buntline hitches tied in every single thing in my house that resembles rope, up to and including extension cords, spaghetti strands and my wife’s hair. You got your Cleat Hitch, your Double Fisherman’s Knot, your Kama Sutra Naughty Triple Twist . . . The point is that I’ve gotten very good at tying knots . . . but not necessarily at UNTYING them, if you get my drift. It sure would be swell if someone could come on over and free me so I don’t have to spend all winter tied to the refrigerator.
Knot me
I wonder: Who is it that gets to name all of these fancy knots? Is there some Committee on Intentionally Complicated Cordage out there, with members who sit around for weeks at a time ruminating over knots and what to call them? If it’s so, I’d sure like to get on that committee because I have some really good knot naming ideas, most of which are based on dirty limericks.
Special delivery
So last week I cried a little about never having a pen when I need one. It’s no longer a problem, thanks to a pair of pen fairies who delivered piles of the things right to my door. Maybe next time I’ll complain about not having enough high-end cocaine on hand just to see what happens.
I am no longer scared
I still say early or mid-September is too early to put up Halloween decorations. I appreciate the ghoulish zeal, I really do. It’s just that by the time Halloween comes around, those month-and-a-half-old zombies, skeletons, witches and Frankenstein monsters will feel like old hat. You’ll go to knock on somebody’s door and be like, “Meh. Another store-bought mummy lunging out of some dude’s hedge.” You want to REALLY scare people? Put up Christmas decorations next to a heating oil price sign. Serious shivers there.
OK, I’m scared again
If you want to give yourself some nice heebie-jeebies, have a look at the movie “The Deep House,” which is about a pair of scuba divers exploring a haunted house at the bottom of a lake. This one left me seriously unnerved, to the point where I couldn’t even take my regular Saturday night bath. Call me crazy, but science reveals that a good 25 percent of underwater hauntings occur in my bathtub.
Just kidding
I don’t actually take baths. Or showers. I just naturally smell nice.
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