Bzzz, bzzz, bzzz

Last night I had a series of dreams—or maybe it was one dream in three acts—all set in and around Worcester, MA (pronounced Wuster, short u. Wusta and Wista are also acceptable pronunciations). 

The dream's setting seemed a bit odd since I’ve never been to the city despite living in Massachusetts for 40+ years. I mean, this is a small state—stands to reason I would’ve at least gone to the art museum by now.

fyi—anywhere west of Worcester is considered Midwest until you hit Montana.

First Act—a man I used to work with 30 years ago (a brilliantly talented pressman) was helping me pack up for the move from Valhalla to Wusta. Why did Sonny pop up in my bean? I haven’t thought about him in decades. He was a great guy—I'm a little sad that we're out of touch.

Second Act—I was in a hilly Portuguese neighborhood in Wista (which bore a much closer resemblance to towns in Tuscany). I was hurrying to get somewhere when I was stopped by a grandmotherly type asking me, in Portuguese, where she could find a laundromat. I was a bit stunned. Why?

1. I could hear and understand her even though I'm deaf and don’t know any Portuguese.
2. Why would she ask yurs truly? How would I know? I’d just moved in and shouldn’t EVERYONE be fully aware of this fact. Hmmph!
   

Third Act—I needed to FedEx a map to…dunno…someone. Another ex-coworker who I’ve not seen or spoken with in 20 odd years was helping me find the shop and fill out the paperwork.

The tone of all three scenes was bewilderment. The pace was rush, rush, RUSH. WTF was this all about? Why Worcester? Why these particular old chums? What’s the Portuguese connection? Was FedExing the map the equivelant of sending a message in a bottle?

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Shoofly pie—who the fuck eats this shit. A molasses, crumb cake served in a pie shell? Sounds utterly unappealing. OK, OK, to each his/her own. Hell, I like fruitcake so that oughta tell you what my opinion's worth.

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A MUST see vid snippet of an adorable animal who looks like it’s straight out of an anime cartoon. This is a colugo—a nocturnal, tree dwelling mammal who glides from tree to tree. They’re native to Southeast Asia. I want one. Coco might want a pet...ya know?

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Blue bees exist! 

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For some reason the phrase tinker’s damn, (or tinker's dam) meaning something of no value is zooming around in my head. e.g.:

While I don’t give a tinker’s damn about the Super Bowl, Poodle-Head Paul’s opinions, hopes and grandstanding aren’t worth a tinker’s dam.

Where’s the phrase come from?

There’s some debate over whether this phrase should be ‘tinker’s dam’ - a small dam to hold solder, used by tinkers when mending pans, or ‘tinker’s damn’ - a tinker’s curse, considered of little significance because tinkers were reputed to swear habitually. (source)

It's a brisk (12ºF) but sunny day here in Valahalla. There's snow everywhere  though—no walkies for this old broad. Instead I'll park my keester on the elliptical, pedal away and enjoy the view.