Talk of the Town Ernie Anderson
Please don’t throw your underpants
Last week, to accompany my weird Sunday column, warped and talented artist Ernie Anderson sketched a pair of empty coats having a domestic squabble in the middle of a grocery store. It was a fun and hilarious image and yet it leaves me deeply troubled even a week later. Ever since I read Dr. Seuss’ story about a pair of “pale green pants with nobody inside ’em” as a kid, I’ve had a crawling dread of empty clothes items that are nonetheless animated in a human manner. I mean, you do NOT want to be near me at a Goodwill on a breezy day because I will run outta there screeching. So, I looked it up and — waddaya know? There’s actually a named phobia for this specific feeling of dread. Vestiphobia, it’s called, and it’s defined as “an overwhelming, irrational fear of clothing. The vestiphobic person can experience anxiety and emotional turmoil that is completely compromising to their ability to function.” That’s me all right: scared of clothes. I’ve gotta get to a nude beach at once!
Kaboom! and whatnot
Whoa! It’s the Fourth of July already? Why it’s the “Gunshots or Fireworks?” season and I haven’t even prepared my world famous bean dip yet. If I can make it through this year’s holiday unscathed, it’ll be the record third year in a row that I haven’t managed to step barefoot on a lit sparkler. Wish me luck, but keep the Bactine close just in case.
The rain in Maine is mainly a pain, Jane
Seriously, bruh? How can it possibly rain this much without the entire state turning into a swamp? It rains ALL THE TIME. I was just out standing in the road (I have my reasons), and while it was hot and the sun was blazing brightly, it was nonetheless pouring rain upon my head. It’s like living in a car wash, but without the borderline scary brushes and guys who come out to buff your bumpers at the end. Not that I want anyone buffing my bumpers, mind you.
Fallout boy
Driving around downtown Lewiston on Thursday I saw the most unsecured load in the history of unsecured loads in the back of a pickup truck. We’re talking three or four office chairs, a couple buckets and random other items perched precariously upon mounds of cardboard that threatened to slide out of the truck at any moment. I mean, how that load stayed put was a marvel of advanced physics. I was so fascinated, I rode behind the truck for a mile or so to watch one of those office chairs come tumbling into the street. It never happened, which is why I’m still sitting in this hard crappy chair. Stupid physics. I never get nuthin.
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