Friday Lists used to be a regular feature of this blog. (Blogging used to be a regular feature of this blog . . . )
10. When the National Weather Service states the time of the sunrise and sunset for a given location, from what location does it have in mind? The sun rises seconds (well, perhaps nanoseconds) sooner for the Athenian standing on the Acropolis than it does for the poor guy cleaning up the mess in the Agora. The sun disappears sooner for the gal standing alongside the East River than the one on Riverside Drive—by as much as an hour with enough buildings in the way. So, who do you have in mind, NWS?
9. Would you really want to live in that awful alternative universe (at least I hope it is) in which that which goes on during reality shows is actually reality? What’s that? We are? Damn. (If so many people are just sitting there watching it, should it be called America Idle?)
8. What’s wrong with whimsy, anyway? I mean, I grant you the importance of being earnest, and I can, too, appreciate the boldness of zany and the edge of lampoon and the brilliance of zing, but it seems to me that everyone is too wrapped up in trying to prove how clever or envelope-pushy they are. Once in a while, a little quaint charm that provokes the smile or even chuckle that isn’t based on anyone being denigrated or pilloried is a good thing. In which regard, I highly recommend (thanks to Vanessa) The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows. It’s got some characters that are chockful of whimsy. And it has much, much more, including some tears.
7. People can’t find anything better to talk about than Super Bowl commercials? Even when there’s all that good reality TV to chew on?
6. Speaking of chewing, is anything more absurd than McDonald’s selling Angus beef burgers? (Can anyone actually taste the difference between Angus beef and reg’lar beef?) (I ask because I’ve never had Angus beef.) Come to think of it, now that we’ve been through the raspberry vinaigrette, chipotle, balsamic vinaigrette, garlic-lime, risotto, Angus beef, and bacon food crazes, what’s the Next Big Ingredient?
5. Is someone who spends his or her life on Twitter a twit? (Oops. Not very whimsical . . . )
4. OK, you’re isolated on a desert island. What would you rather have, your ten favorite books, your ten favorite movies, or a boat? (Kim, of course, would prefer pythons, but Aussies are whimsical.)
3. Does the handbasket we’re all going to Hell in have cupholders? Does it have Wi-Fi? If not, we may not get there because most people won’t show up.
2. What happens to idiot savants when they grow up? What do you mean, “you blog”? (No foul. Self-deprecation is a form of whimsy.)
1C. Why in heaven’s name would anyone want to be president? And if you were so crazy as to run, would you want Donald Trump’s endorsement? (I’d devote a significant share of my campaign funds to paying him to endorse someone else.)
1B. Shouldn’t all the leaders in the world, every single last one of them, just step down in shame? (I know, I know, low on the whimso-meter.)
1A. What was the worst day for humankind, the day we were expelled from the Garden or the day celebrity was invented?
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