I cleaned out my sock drawer this week and I am sad and happy to report that is one of the things that brings me joy at this age in my life. It’s all organized now; locked and loaded for my daily sock selection. In other news, I turn 55 years old this week. Life comes at you fast, folks.
I’ve been thinking lately. We can develop a vaccine for a previously unknown virus that is decimating the world population, but we can’t come up with a hangover cure? I don’t want to get banned from freely speaking by the Biden Administration, but I think this may be a government coverup. Surely some smart dude in a Pfizer lab has a few ideas on how to cure the common hangover. No? Honestly, most of us would consider a Moderna vaccine for the hangovers after tolerating them for the last few hundred years. Anyway, I’ve said enough, but think about this.
My wife brought me devastating news last week. Apparently, some of the people that live in the small subdivision where we live decided to start a Facebook page for the subdivision. That seems like a horrible idea. Honestly, I’ve been happy complaining about my neighbors in private for nine years and now they want me to type it all out on a social media page. We all know it will start out nice and then some “Karen” will air some grievance and then we will be checking the page every hour to see who commented next. Then we’ll still wave at each other like we haven’t been bitching like crazy at each other on social media. It’s awkward, confusing and just another progression/regression of the human species that I don’t care for. Donald Trump does not know how lucky he is to be banned from social media.
Speaking of my sock drawer, I only have two types of socks that I approve of purchasing. This is a long-held family tradition brought forward by maternal grandfather. He had specific socks that he instructed his two daughters to buy for him for Christmas each year. It caused quite a bit of stress for the daughters when they would buy similar but not the specific sock. He corrected them of that habit over the years. I’ve adopted his life policy and have similar standards today, although I have evolved the family tradition to TWO types of socks that are acceptable. I’m hoping and praying that my son will someday incorporate THREE types of socks into the family foray of acceptable foot garments.
Most of us dream of a better life for our kids.
If you’d like to know the acceptable sock brand and type, contact Foley, it will be on my Landmark subscriber Christmas list.
If you’re reading this and complaining about me writing about socks this week, you might take next week off. I’m covering underwear in that column. If you’re reading this and in prison or in the bathroom, what difference does it make what I write about? You got time.
(Guy Speckman can be reached at gspeckman@me.com or carefully organizing his sock drawer)
