Daily Ambivalence - one broken leg is better than two broken legs

I met a guy in a Jiffy Lube who had a broken leg.

I asked the guy how he was doing and he said one broken leg is better than two broken legs. Then he laughed. I wanted to punch him.

Blanket statements like that remind me of that time when I was buying calamari from a street vendor in San Francisco and the guy said that the round, onion ring-like pieces of calamari are easier to bread than the pieces with legs and that's why there were more of the onion ring-type pieces of calamari in the basket than the ones with legs.

Breading, for those of you who might not know, is a thin coating of some white substance over a surface, very much like a cast, at least before you deep fry the squid pieces. Once the calamari is deep fried and golden brown the association is less obvious. But it's still a coating.

Anyway, whether you like your calamari battered or not seems like more of a personal choice than anything else. You couldn't say that one deep-fried calamari piece is better than two deep-fried calamari pieces. That would be stupid.

Then again, if the calamari isn't battered and then deep fried it isn't calamari. It's just squid.

Hmm. That kind of collapses my whole argument.

Never mind.

One broken leg is better than two broken legs . . . eh.

Daily Ambivalence - every table has that one bad spot

I was thinking this the other day at what's his name's wedding.

You know the bad spot on tables I'm talking about. Your chair abuts one of the table legs but this unpleasant detail is hidden by the white table cloth and so you don't know until you commit and sit down.

It's like crocodiles in a river. The danger is hidden, the river a lazy welcoming ribbon of blue until you jump, but then there's blood in the water.

I think someone should make a law that tables have signs warning you about lurking table legs. Just common sense. I mean, who wants pools of blood at a wedding?

Every table has that one bad spot . . . eh.

There was that dream about breakfast

There was that dream where I was having breakfast with the alien and I wanted to ask a question about baldness and why no aliens seem to have hair but that was stupid of me because the alien was likely reading my mind that very moment which is a little embarrassing because I was also thinking how crappy the hash browns were and in the dream I was pretty sure the alien had made the hash browns which is strange because if aliens have perfected faster-than-light travel you would think they could make hash browns so good they'd blow your mind but these hash browns were underdone and didn't have enough butter and I would have been happier with just a bowl of Captain Crunch which either way that's not a very good breakfast and maybe that's why aliens don't have hair and their skin is green and leathery. They should eat better breakfasts.

Daily Ambivalence - that guy with the guitar looks like Paul Simon

Well, I guess he only kind of looks like Paul Simon.

It probably isn't Paul Simon because even though it's been a while since Paul Simon released an album, I don't think Paul Simon would need to perform with a rhesus monkey on a sidewalk in San Antonio.

You remember that song about the boxer and how he stands in a clearing? It seems like the boxer is waiting for something and you would think it was probably his next opponent, but I've always thought he was probably waiting for one of his friends to bring him a Reuben sandwich.

I say Reuben sandwich because I hear Garfunkel was a total maniac when it came to Reuben sandwiches. Garfunkel used to perform with Paul Simon too. Not that I'm comparing Garfunkel to a rhesus monkey, but his name was Garfunkel so you can understand why Paul Simon kicked him out of the band and might now be performing in San Antonio.

If you remember, Garfunkel was kind of tall and skinny and those guys can usually really pack in the food. I've got a good recipe for Reuben sandwiches and my secret ingredient is that I add a little Pitzman's mustard.

One time I ate three whole Reuben sandwiches in one sitting. I'll bet Garfunkel could do four at least.

I wouldn't invite Paul Simon to the eating contest because he has that rhesus monkey to help him.

That guy with the guitar looks like Paul Simon . . . eh.