As August 2022 comes to its end, we enter that time of year we most associate with family and good food, the holidays. We celebrate them on the same days, but not in the same ways.
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Families used to use “swear jars” to dissuade cursing. The penalty was a quarter per curse word, deposited in a glass jar, so over time we could see the jar fill up.
This week QuipTide delves into American history, specifically an event that occurred 246 years ago today.
Here at QuipTide World Headquarters we are often asked, “How do you come up with all those topics each week?”
Sometimes our pets surprise us. We should expect the unexpected, as they have minds of their own and aren’t afraid to use them.
In a recent column I lamented the preference among many people who are able to work, to not work, except on the terms they choose. This week, showing the depth of my hypocrisy, I propose that Congress declare the month of June a national holiday.
It’s easy to get a job these days, but who wants one?
Fate sometimes plays pranks to make us laugh at ourselves.
This “classic” QuipTide column was first published in 2002, and has been slightly revised.
I’ll always remember 1972. Fifty years later, three events from that year stand out: the Watergate break-in, my graduation from high school in Albuquerque and relocation to college in San Francisco, and one movie: “The Godfather.”
I drove down to Earl’s Deli, hoping to find some salami and other fixins for an old-fashioned, low-cost picnic. It would be fun and economical, right?
May the Fourth is unofficially Star Wars Day, and very near on the calendar to the official holiday honoring mothers. Let’s listen in on a virtual family reunion in a galaxy far, far away.
Choosing what to watch on TV used to be easy. There were four networks, CBS, NBC, ABC, PBS, plus a smattering of local stations. Each episode of any show had to stand on its own because there was no TiVo, or on-demand showings. If you missed an episode, you had to wait for the reruns to catch up.
Two of my imaginary friends, Pathos and Ethos, can’t seem to agree about much of anything. At a recent visit to our new public library they nearly came to blows, and would have if they weren’t imaginary.
April is the best month of the year, because spring is the best season and April in squarely in spring, unlike those half-in, half-out months, March and June. May’s pretty good, too, but here’s why April is the best.
With all but 10 of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes stories no longer copyrighted, writers and TV/film producers have rushed to add to the catalog of Holmes tales. Some stay true to the original characters, others stray far from the accepted canon. Even Scotland Yard joined the fun, …
There’s an old-time Scouting sing-along that starts with this chorus:
Power outages are common and unwelcome events on the Coastside. They’re among the prices of paradise, along with fog, closures on one of the two-lane roads that are our only escape routes, and even the occasional tsunami.
We grumpy old men spend an inordinate amount of time visiting doctors. This allows us to stay grumpy nearly every waking hour. We spend half our time feeling grumpy about the minor and major maladies that plague us, and the rest of the time being grumpy about all the prodding, poking, prescr…
Nov. 11, Veterans Day, is a national holiday, and it should be.
It was inevitable. William Shatner has been in space.
As I write this I am aided by three muses.
It’s September — time for harvesting, putting off preparations for the holidays and, here in New Mexico, eating meal-after-meal that includes freshly picked and peeled green chiles.
Bette Noir, a private detective, might have been the heroine of a Dashiell Hammett novel, but wasn’t.
Portia and I were having lunch at the Far East Cafe on Grant Avenue. I was buying, Portia being imaginary. She’s a sparkling conversationalist and an inexpensive lunch guest.
Visitors swarm to the Coastside each weekend, coming to enjoy our local diversions, including the beaches, the farms, the restaurants, and, of course, our annual Running of the Goats on Main Street. Soon a new local attraction will open its doors, the Coastal Museum of Unnatural History.
This is a “classic” Quip Tide, written years ago. And yet we still don’t have an answer to Louie Castoria’s timeless question. Castoria is taking the week off to contemplate chickens and roads.
Our Special Recall Election in California is four weeks away. It’s “special” in many ways other than not being on your 2021 wall calendar.
My imaginary friend, Jack, was bemoaning his work life while we sat at adjacent barstools.
We have so many things on our minds these days. Wouldn’t it feel great to put them in a box for an hour or two?
Most of us on the Coastside realize the need to be prepared to evacuate on short notice. We don’t face the biblical plagues of Egypt — frogs, locusts, boils and such — but we have the ever-present threat of disasters, such as tsunamis, earthquakes and drivers who don’t signal their turns.
When you hear the words “Main Street” they conjure up images of an America from long ago. There’s the old City Hall, the fire station, several restaurants, watering holes, a market, a barber shop, a bank and the local newspaper's office. There’s a general store, clothiers, booksellers and ha…
Do you speak French? Americans do it all the time.
(A golden retriever puppy inspired this J.K. “Growling” parody.)
American independence didn’t begin or end with its Declaration. It’s a work in progress.
Cleo, the CEO, smiled broadly, gesturing with open arms to everyone in the conference room. “Welcome back for our first meeting at HQ since March 2020. We’ll be heading over to Brigid’s Brew Pub for our first lunch together as a team as soon as we’re done here. My treat!”
With Father’s Day approaching, it’s time to ask why the best-known purveyor of family films paints such a negative picture of dads.
Sunday, June 6, marked the 45th wedding anniversary for Susy and me, a true testament to her patience.
Telephone help lines have become all syrupy in their praise of the customer or patient. Was there a gigantic webinar for phone assistants to learn how to obsequiously flatter the patient, without providing any real service?
During our recent driving excursion through New Mexico, we traveled north, south, east, west, up and down. The last two directions don’t appear on the compass, but the trip still had its ups and downs.
It’s been a long time since we’ve gotten together. I mean, really spent time together, not just those brief, grab-and-go encounters, which seemed more like drive-throughs.
May is Mental Health Month, and it’s about time!
This coming Sunday is Mother’s Day. It is not Mothers or Mothers’ Day, because it honors exactly one mother, your own, and it is her day. That was the original idea anyway, but some of us are lucky enough to have two mothers, or several mother-figures, or, as in my case, a mother and a mothe…
This morning, April 26, I appeared before the U.S. Supreme Court, but my appearance wasn’t as apparent as they usually are, apparently. It was done by phone. Thanks, COVID-19.
It’s easier to write humor than you may think. People do it all the time.
Here at Quip Tide World Headquarters we deal in facts — hard, real, indisputable facts — that we mostly make up when we’re not busy referring to ourselves in the plural.
Watching episodes of “The Voice” sometimes puts me to sleep. Coaches Kelly Clarkson, John Legend, Nick Jonas and Blake Shelton fill the time with competitive banter, but it isn’t enough to hold my attention throughout the show.
I gave Apple’s virtual assistant, Siri, a gender reassignment the other day, and though the program keeps making the same mistakes, I find that I like him much better than I liked her.
Five business colleagues were Zoomed — rhymes with “doomed” — in another virtual meeting. They had come to the last item, “Other,” and became mired in trite, sometime offensive phrases people use at work. (In Italics.)
Last year, almost to the day, I and many others stopped commuting to work. I’ll return to the office occasionally, but have no desire to resume 90-minute drives each way, five days a week.