‘Tis the season for static-cling alert

This is the time of year when you might want to check your pant legs for underwear that might stick in there due to static electricity from the dryer. I have heard of underwear falling on the ground in public due to this phenomenon.

-We had a mini HHS Class of ’64 reunion Saturday night to reminisce and take a tour of the new digs classmate Charlotte Kennedy-Takahashi and husband Hiro built on South Main. They split time between Tokyo and here, and plan to spend more of it here.

Lots of ideas were discussed. Charlotte said we should encourage locals to think about what they could make that would sell throughout the world, or provide a service that might sell beyond this local area. We need to think globally.

This isn’t a global thought at all, but I was thinking about the Hillsboro Arts & Crafts fair. Instead of buying all of that ice for the event, why not just have the city keep this winter’s snow piled in the middle of the street to be used next fall?

Dave Barry is one of my favorite columnists and appears every Monday in the Wichita Eagle. I saw him perform live the other night when I caught a Miami Booksellers Convention on C-Span. He was telling the audience about a new book he had written.

In the past he had made fun of North Dakota when that state was talking about changing its name to just “Dakota.” To get even, the city of Fargo named one of its sewer lift stations after him and invited him to attend a dedication ceremony for the “Dave Barry Lift Station No. 16.”

We had a fun time with the Camelis in Kansas City this weekend and packed as much as we could into a little less than 24 hours. Alex was sick off and on, and I won’t go into any details. He managed to act pretty normal and have fun anyway.

We stayed in a hotel between Westport and the Plaza that I had found on the Internet. My, how the picture and the real thing differed. But we went for the company and not the amenities.

We found time for gifts, Kansas City barbecue, the Plaza lights and Crown Center. A quick visit beats no visit any day.

Where do gloves go when they get lost? I lost one of my favorite gloves this weekend. One glove just doesn’t feel right. Gloves must drop on the street or under the car, but never someplace where they are easily found. One glove is worthless to both loser and finder.

When I was a kid, my mom would tie a string or tether of some kind that hooked both gloves together through the sleeves of my coat. When the gloves were off my hands, they were still there hanging from my sleeves.

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