I spent an hour in a laundromat this afternoon, washing and drying a load of clothes. I can’t remember the last time I did that. Must be 30 years ago. That’s about how old our house is and many/most of the appliances. A major remodel starts in a week or so, including new appliances which are gasping their last.

When I had lots of Important Stuff to do, sitting in a laundromat was a hassle. Today’s chore wasn’t one at all. I’ve reached he point where waiting for the spin cycle to end is the most productive thing I do all day.

Barb tells me the new washer and dryer can be operated from our phones and we’ll receive notifications (if we want them) when the wash is done. In the meantime, are you sure these aren’t your panties?

Once I figured out Business was the wrong college (Southeast Missouri State University) major, I got a small part in The Taming of the Shrew (December 1968). They offered me a tiny scholarship (and the chance to keep my draft deferment) and I jumped at it.  Other productions that year included: The Subject Was Roses, Summer Tree, Camelot, Slow Dance on a Killing Ground and Blithe Spirit.

I begged the photographer (one of those retro places you see at tourist traps) to let me be a rugged fence-mendin’, doggie-punchin’ cowboy but he insisted I didn’t have the face for it. Said I was more of the Brett Maverick type. Sigh.

To call it “begging” seems… harsh. “Panhandling” feels a little too cute. I don’t know the politically correct term for when someone asks you for money. I assume it’s pretty common in cities with lots of foot traffic but we don’t see it as much here in Hooverville. I believe I’ve previously mentioned the woman who stands on a highway off ramp I use frequently. Indeterminate age. Somewhere between 30 and 60. She stand there, very still and straight, in one of those ankle-length dresses some favored by some fundamentalist religions. I think she might hold a small cardboard sign but I couldn’t tell you what it says. Unless it’s going to hold up the drivers behind me, I usually give her a five or a ten, sometimes a twenty. She used to try to give a small religious tract but I decline and she eventually stopped.

On some days a different person has that spot but I rarely contribute. They put off a very different vibe. Some are almost jocular. Lots of eye contact. Ready to approach your car at the slightest encouragement.

There are a couple of guys that work the spot together. Can’t believe that’s very effective.

Another young man has a boom box sitting on the ground nearby. Boring ‘work’ no doubt, but I’d tell him to leave that at home. If I told him anything.

One man always has a cane but it doesn’t look natural in his hand, if you know what I mean.

Some of these men — and it’s men, mostly — only seem to show up when the weather’s nice. My lady can stand there, hour after hour, in the heat or the cold. Only moving when a motorist waves with a bill or some change.

So, is it shitty to be judging and evaluating like this? Are these people, in any sense, “selling” something? Do I need to know — or believe — anything beyond they help? Would it be a dick move to go buy some diapers (size 6) and hand it to the guy whose sign says that’s what he needs? I’d really like to know what she/they are thinking/feeling during the long hours at that intersection. Despair? Gratitude? Anger? Boredom?

As I coast up the exit ramp, trying to time the light, there’s little time for such analysis. If I can find a bill and my lady is there, we make our awkward hand-off. (“God Bless!” or “Jesus Loves You”)

We’ve all had this experience but it’s less common with mobile phones. You’re in your office and your “desk phone” rings. You can’t answer it for some reason. You’re talking on your mobile or you have someone in your office, but you didn’t set the phone to go to voice mail so it keeps ringing until the caller gives up.

This happened to someone being interviewed on a podcast I listen to and the phone rang 20 or 30 times. Still ringing when the interview ended. So here’s my question: what’s going on in the caller’s head?

He obviously believes the person he’s calling is ‘there’ or he’d just hang up. So. He’s there but not answering the phone. Why?

a) He’s in a coma
b) His office is being robbed and he’s duct taped to his chair
c) He’s doing something that prevents him from answering THE MOTHER FUCKING PHONE!

Am I missing something obvious here? I do that. As horrible as it is to contemplate, I always suspected the caller was thinking, “If I let it ring long enough, if that becomes annoying enough, he will stop what he’s doing and answer my call. Passive-Aggressive that I am (was?) I would usually just pick up and immediately hang up the phone.

I don’t get a lot of calls these days and I don’t miss ‘em.

“A Fox News guest has been forced to apologize for suggesting Britain’s second biggest city was off-limits to non-Muslims.” 

This story got me thinking about apologies. “I’m sorry” must be one of the first phrases learned by American children. Say you’re sorry.

Like everyone, I’ve done plenty of things to “be sorry” about but it sure feels like a meaningless expression. Even if you are sincerely contrite, so what? Does saying you sorry mean anything? Does it make a difference? It must because when someone fucks up, demands for a public apology are loud. But for the life of me I can’t see how it makes any difference. Certainly doesn’t unring the bell and more often than not it’s a half-assed apology (“I’m sorry if anyone was offended by seeing my johnson on Twitter. It was an error in judgement. My penis misspoke.”)

Let’s make it more personal. Your husband/wife gets caught sneak-fuckin’ and hopes to repair the damage with an apology. Is it somehow important to the injured party that the offender regrets his/her actions? (“Well, as long as you feel badly about what you did, okay.”) No. Not okay.

Maybe an apology is more about forgiveness than contrition. You won’t forgive me until I say I’m sorry. It just seem like bullshit to me. Maybe if I had kids I’ve have a better handle on this. They need to feel bad when they do something wrong. Is there no way to get there without an apology (genuine or half-assed)? And, honestly, I don’t have an alternative.

Reporter: The video shows you knocking the snot out of your girlfriend in that elevator. Are you sorry you did that?
Me: I wish I hadn’t done it but I did. Wish I had a do-over but I don’t.
Reporter: So, are you sorry or not?
Me: What difference would it make if I was. Wouldn’t change the fact I knocked crap out of her.

Maybe what I’m struggling with is after enough apologies, they become meaningless. A meaningless noise we’re expected to make. If I’m a dick, I’m still a dick no matter how many times I say I’m sorry.