Getting it off my chest
From mystery keys to odd-numbered fruit purchases to Hall & Oates being on the outs, I’ve got a few things to unpack.
Today marks my first Getting It Off My Chest (GIOMC) column.
From time to time, I think I’ll deliver a GIOMC to simply, as the phrase would strongly suggest, get stuff off my chest. Nothing profound or profane, just those little and often-funny things in life that, on their own, don’t merit a full column.
Here are five such items:
GIOMC #1: The key to …what’s this key to, again?
I’m not sure which is more embarrassing: That I accumulate keys and have no idea what they unlock, or that I can’t bring myself to throw away those same mysterious keys.
A week ago, my wife Bridgett assembled the collection that had grown in recent years. We then lined them up these nine objects for a team photo, below.
I’ve since moved them across the living room to the dining room table. There they sit, as I hold out hope—or maybe “procrastinate in fear” is more apt—that a lightning bolt of epiphany will guide me toward all the locks or ignitions that they belong to.
Don’t leave me all alone here—you have mystery keys too, right?
GIOMC #2: Writing outside the (extremely dusty) box
Yesterday, standing in line at the post office down the street, my gaze fell upon that quaint piece of architecture known as the Suggestion Box.
I moved closer. Although hopelessly inept at detecting dust in my own home—that’s my story and I’m sticking to it—even I couldn’t help but notice the thick layer of dust that had invaded the top of this humble structure. It must’ve taken months, years maybe, to become so prominent.
Though the messaging on the box referred to a “form” for the public’s written counsel, nothing of the sort was in sight. Nor did I have a writing utensil. That’s why, when I scrawled my recommendation atop the box, it was with my right index finger. (Read the caption below.)
Seeing the caked-on dust when I got back in line, Bridgett remarked, “Oh! You just did that? That's gross. Go wash your hands.”
GIOMC #3: The Hall & Oates rift strikes me as so sad.
I know this must feel like it’s coming from out of left field, but …what’s up with these two Rock `n’ Roll Hall of Famers?
Daryl Hall has accused John Oates of committing the “ultimate partnership betrayal,” according to this Nov. 30, 2023 story in The New York Times.
The betrayal, the story goes on to say, came “when [Oates] moved to sell off his portion of a joint venture. Oates denies wrongdoing.”
I’ve never met these fellows, but they’ve given me so much joy through their music over the years that I feel a sort of obligation to help them patch things up.
Related: I can’t think about this legendary duo without chuckling at the saga of a few friends who saw them at a concert in Chicago in 2007 as they promoted their “Home for Christmas” release.
Little did my pals know, but the plan on this particular evening was for them to sing exclusively holiday songs. No mixing in a little “Maneater” or “You Make My Dreams” or—and this would’ve been fitting on one level—“Out of Touch.”
Instead, as they began each number, fans increasingly expressed their dismay by calling for these and other Hall and Oates classics. At one point, my buddy who instigated this whole outing (and was feeling increasingly guilty for doing so) bellowed, “Rich Girl!”
It was all in vain.
GIOMC #4: Oddly Enough
About 10 years ago, I learned an odd secret that Bridgett had been keeping from me: she only gets certain produce and fruits in even-numbered amounts.
This peculiarity emerged one day when I brought three apples to the conveyer belt as a last-second addition to our shopping. She instructed me to either go fetch another one or bring one back.
I thought she was kidding.
She couldn’t have been more serious.
Ever since, I’ve generally complied with her wishes, but I buck it from time to time. Check out this courageous act of spousal rebellion from June 2017:
As I wrote at the time on my Facebook page:1
“This may look like a photo of nine apples. But don't be fooled--it's an act of mutiny. Some background: Until a few years ago, I was unaware of my wife Bridgett Baron's odd--well, EVEN habit.
Ever since birthing twins nearly 14 years ago, she's gotten a variety of items, including fruits, in pairs. I was oblivious to this pattern until one day she insisted on me getting one more (or less) apple so that it was an even number. Since then, I have almost always meekly acquiesced to this dictate. But yesterday, at the Whole Foods where much of our paycheck goes, I not only bucked this peculiar mandate, but I chronicled the moment so that I could have evidence to accompany this audacious act.
To top it off, I juggled three of the apples at the check-out for about 15 seconds. Yes, I'm odd too.”
GIOMC #5: Mileage Madness
Who am I to judge my wife’s even-numbered approach to shopping?
Whenever possible, I like to capture when my odometer clicks over to the next thousand-mile mark, such as the time three weeks ago when I was traveling home on I-88.
It’s a childhood fascination that has never gone away. When our previous vehicle was on the verge of 100,000 miles, on Independence Day 2017, you darn well know that I not only took a photo but made Bridgett shoot a meandering, dorky seven-minute video of the occasion.
After circling the Trader Joe’s parking lot for a few minutes, I finally backed into a space to cap the milestone. (Who knew that the act of backing into a space in that same lot would inspire a November 2023 Inside Edge column?)
One more for the road…from March 2015, when I pulled to the side of the road to make sure I captured the magic of 77,777 miles in that Grand Caravan:
Facebook is many things—not all of them great—but it’s one fantastic repository of easy-to-find posts. Just remember a word or two and, moments later, it retrieves that old missive!
I endorse the idea of GIOMC, periodically publishing much shorter pieces and observations. The key situation is unique to each person. In this house, we are going on 30 years of real estate practice and management so keys are the tool of the trade; as are long winded documents. Don't get me started on the piles of both .... (go ahead and give this writer feedback on her careless use of semi colons and ellipses.) The dusty suggestion box leaves me feeling a mix of nostalgic for handwritten and read in real time suggestions and sad for the state of that PO. I agree with a recent comedy bit about how cool the US PO is, it really is, as the comedian says, "I can walk in with a piece of paper in California and say, 'please take this to Alaska' and the response is, 'it will take 2 days and 55 cents.' That's pretty cool."
Good thing you didn't have quadruplets. Yes, I honor the turning of the speedometer. 9 keys? Amateur! Could have written "My suggestion? Dust a minute, I'll let you know" Fun column.