Facebook likes to remind me of time I can’t get back. It knocks on my brain with photos of what I was doing, and who I was last year, or three years ago, or five years ago.
If I really want to go there, a better indication is when I sort through some of my old columns. I feel like the same person as I did in California, but I am sure the subtle differences have added up into something substantial.
When all the rivers closed down for the winter, I had to come up with column ideas by going to Buffalo Wild Wings, Bass Pro Shops or the mall. Below are chunks from a Christmas column a long time and many miles away.
Best Buy has helped me come to terms with the reality. A 27-inch computer screen and pool-table sized plasma TV will provide the necessary-sized screen to play video games and finally rid my head of a brain and replace it with little animated characters tooling around.
Best Buy cares. “You, better,” they say. The true spirit of the season in two words. Also, I can pay no interest for three years, which is totally like getting it for free.
You can’t really write that column living in Southeast Alaska because you understand things like shipping costs, the inability to shop around and the lack of a Best Buy.
The background voice in an ad for something smelly from Ralph Lauren says, “My romance doesn’t need anything but you.”
I’m not sure why, then, the stone-faced dude and chick are on a white horse, but apparently they don’t need anything except each other — and the cologne — and a white horse.
I’ll put a case of that stuff on the American Express card Tina Turner told me to get, and maybe there is a mail-in rebate for the white horse. Have to ask my landlord if I can have a white horse in the backyard.
I still don’t have an American Express card, but I do have a landlord. The idea of having a horse isn’t as funny as it was when I lived in California, though I did live in the country.
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