Sweatin’ the small stuff

Here it is, just a week after Independence Day, and I’m sitting here thinking it won’t be long before Walmart’s Halloween displays start going up. I know that’s a bit sarcastic, but I feel like the year has been whizzing by, and I’m missing out on something.

On the other hand, with all the madness of this upside-down election year, each day seems like an eternity, resulting in my tendency of rambling on about this or that regardless of the presence of another person. Yes, actually having a conversation with thin air, complete with inflection and random gesticulations.

This can understandably put people off, and the reaction I received when I was caught by a young woman blurting out something at the grocery store bordered between the “what the heck is wrong with him?” and “is this what people over 65 do?” looks.

No, it’s just my WFHSD (Working From Home Stress Disorder). Now, don’t misunderstand me. In no way, shape, form or fashion is this related to my couple of years in the tropical paradises of Guam and Southeast Asia. This is something wholly other.

It’s the result of having too many discussions with that danged Alexa. Don’t quote me on this, but something tells me that she/it/them is prone to A.I. cognitive dissonance. Lord knows what would happen with both Alexa and Siri were in the room.

At any rate, I was red-faced to say the least at the above-mentioned supermarket faux pas, and it made me start to wonder what other little things we may occasionally do in private—you know, when you think no one’s looking. Like for instance, using the cell phone while driving and struggling to turn a corner with the wrong hand. No, wait, really. I’ve heard that’s what other people might have done.

But wait, there’s more:

Eating something off the floor after the three-second grace period.

Burping loudly, then looking around to make sure nobody heard you.

Googling your own name.

Picking something from your ear and then looking at it.

Sniffing your armpits.

Closing the bathroom door when no one else is at home.

Picking at leftovers with your fingers.

Groaning loudly for no reason at all.

Did I mention right before someone enters the room and passing ga….? Oh dear... never mind, it was the dog, of course.

Then there are those less embarrassing things that we do at one time or another because we’re just, well...human.

Unconsciously thinking of the 1990s as being 10 years ago.

Taking a less desirable parking spot and walk rather than waste half the day looking for the perfect one.

Pacing around the entire house during a phone conversation.

Getting lost in thought while reading, but don’t notice it until you’re three pages past where you stopped paying attention.

Feeling weird when saying your own name out loud.

Being way more depressed on Sunday nights than on Monday mornings.

Wondering how many random people have photos with you in the background.

Giving the kitchen tongs a few test clicks to make sure they still work right.

Stopping the microwave with one second left to avoid hearing the beeps.

But I digress.

With all the hoopla and revelry surrounding the 4th of July last Thursday, I totally overlooked the less momentous events in history on the day after, the 5th of July.

For instance, Elvis Presley recorded his first single, “That’s Alright, Mama,” on July 5, 1954, at Sun Records in Memphis.

Fun fact: A little later - in the 1960s - after he had been crowned the King, Elvis couldn’t ride his motorcycle anywhere outside of Graceland without being mobbed, so a detachment of Memphis motorcycle cops called “El’s Angels” would ride with him. As it happened, my late Uncle Frank was also a motorcycle cop with the Memphis Police Department and would occasionally be a participant in the cadre, escorting Elvis around the Bluff City.

Whenever we would visit, Uncle Frank would regale us with his stories and Elvis memorabilia.

It was also on July 5 that the bikini was unveiled in 1946 by a Frenchman named Louis Réard, who claimed he was only concerned about ladies not getting a better tan, although he readily admitted that the public’s reaction would rival the atomic bomb tests at Bikini Atoll. And who but an old-timer would remember the 1960 hit song, “Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Yellow Polka Dot Bikini?”

Last but not least, somebody at Hormel had a brilliant idea to combine chopped pork shoulder with ham, salt, sugar and sodium nitrate, and so it was that on July 5 in 1937 the product that Monty Python made infamous hit the shelves. And I’m not talking about junk emails.

Oh, contrary to popular belief, SPAM does not stand for “Something Posing As Meat.”