We Need Another Emoji

 

May 16, 2026

 

I texted my sister about a phenomenon of older age that I had just endured, and she wrote back,

 

“I was going to send an emoji for ‘Welcome to the club’, but there isn’t one.”

 

Update to "Music History"

 

May 2, 2026

 

Back in November I wrote that I was amazed that radio stations today are playing music from 40 years ago; if they’d done that when I was growing up, we’d have been listening to music from the ’30’s.

 

Apparently, this has occurred to other people as well. Today’s Post-Dispatch printed a column by Jerry Davich, who said the same thing (but with more commentary, and a bit of insight).

 

 

Volunteer Wars

 

May 3, 2026

  

What happens when you get a group of people together who all think they know best how to accomplish a project? Read on:

 

Twice a year I help out at the city beautification project. In the spring, we plant flowers, and in the fall, we pull them up. Usually, there are some volunteers that I recognize, so we say our medium hellos and get to work. None of them was there this year, so I was working with an entirely new group.

 

When we plant (the April session) I try to get off to a spot by myself, because I can plant in the order that I like: Farthest plants from the sidewalk first, then work outward so that I'm not stepping on the plants I've already planted. Invariably someone else will wander over and start doing it the other way. Comes with the territory, so I try to just keep moving farther away from them. Adaptable, that's me. 

 

There are several types of flowers, and they are planted randomly, no pattern, according to the man giving instructions, so I took him at his word. Eventually, someone strolled over to my spot and said, “Oh, you're planting randomly!” He sounded conversational, so I didn't take offense, I just said, “Actually, I'm doing every 4^th flower, so it's not quite random.” A few minutes later, having settled himself near me (although there was plenty of other space to choose from), he said, “It makes it hard to tell where the holes are, because of where your knees have been.” That did annoy me, so I said (still nicely), “I don't put my knees in the holes.” A few beats later I commented, “If you dig in a dent and the dirt comes loose, it's a hole.” 

 

Volunteer Wars: Something new for me.

 

Another woman, mother of several, had a thing about consolidating the leftover plants into one tray. I supported the notion, except that we were just carrying the trays across a patch of grass to put the plants in over there, so it seemed like a waste of time. I forbore to comment on the inefficiency, however, and let her feel like she was a master organizer (which, with at least 6 children, she has to be, so I don't doubt her credentials, just her chain of logic in this case). Me, being tactful. 

 

Fortunately, pulling up the plants in the fall won’t require any finesse, so there should be no such sources of conflict.