The self-incriminators . . . Or: Till death them did part

THE DORYMAN of Prescott, Wis., reports: “Subject: Gotta Know When To Fold ’Em.

“Now that the other couple in this story have both passed away, I can share the awkward moment here.

“Over 20 years ago, the Runabout and I were sitting down to a lovely dinner out with our next-door neighbors at the time. During the course of our conversation, I mentioned that I had finally broken down and rented a boat slip on the Mississippi River in Inver Grove.

“The neighbor man queried: ‘Where is there a marina in lnver Grove?’

“I said: ‘It’s a little ways south of 494, just off Concord.’

“He still was befuddled, but pressed on and said: ‘I just can’t picture where that would be.’

“That’s when I played my final card: ‘You take a left off of Concord onto 66th Street right by the King of Diamonds strip club.’

“It was then that he perked up and, along with his excited involuntary reaction, announced: ‘OH YEAH! I know where that is.’

“Me: ‘What’s taking so long with our food???’”

Our Gargoyles, Ourselves

COS of the East Side: “Gargoyles were once popular statues placed on buildings, particularly churches. Some were purely decorative, while others doubled as water downspouts. All of them supposedly protected the building from evil spirits. Gargoyles have fallen out of favor and are now mostly relegated to lawn ornaments. They serve no particular purpose . . . or so it would seem.

“I have a gargoyle in my yard which became surrounded by pumpkin vines thanks to the copious amounts of rain we received this summer.

“One morning I looked at my gargoyle and it was covered with strange little gray creatures. Having seen too many horror movies over the years, I immediately thought they were baby gargoyles. But alas, they were not.

“They were actually the dreaded squash bugs that can wreak havoc on plants in the squash family, such as pumpkins. The standard way to get rid of them is to wander through the pumpkin patch and spray a mixture of Dawn dishwashing soap and water on them wherever they are discovered. Those suckers die in less than a minute. Instead, all I had to do was spray down my gargoyle a couple of times a day, and eventually there wasn’t a squash bug to be found.

“I don’t know why the squash bugs are attracted to the gargoyle but not to any of the other nearby lawn ornaments. Grasshoppers and other insects aren’t so particular. Maybe it has something to do with the gargoyle’s temperature or color — or the family resemblance.. I’ve tried to find an answer online and even talked to a U of M Master Gardener at the State Fair about it, without any results.

“Anyways, if gargoyles start appearing in pumpkin patches after farmers read this story, you’ll know why. Fun fact: The Dawn/water mixture can also be used to clean lenses in eyeglasses.”

Our pets, ourselves

DENNIS FROM EAGAN writes: “Subject: Living with a shedding & shredding Husky.

“Rocky has to ‘inspect’ EVERY PACKAGE that arrives at our door. He’s personally looking for CHEWY.COM treats or toys, but most deliveries are for us.

“On Wednesday, we got a ‘Minnesota Live’ tote-bag from KSTP-TV. He sniffed the envelope, waited for it to be opened, and then destroyed the packaging on our ‘hairy rug’ — apparently for security reasons (so that nobody knows our home address?)!

“Thank goodness that we’re now SAFE.”

Our theater of seasons

Late-August email from THE GRAND DUCHESS of Grand Avenue: “Subject: Peach pickin’ time.

“It’s that time of year again (well, a week earlier than last year) to pick peaches! We ended up with around 300 peaches again this year, even after trimming branches off last year.

“Yes, peaches grow in Minnesota (a variety produced to be Minnesota-hardy).”

Joy of Juxtaposition — Plus: See world

TWITTY of Como has emailed us a pair of reports: (1) “There I was, minding my own business, adventuring through construction on eastbound Interstate 94, listening to George Straight singing ‘Heartland’ on the radio while idly wondering what happened to the exit I normally take, when suddenly I glanced up at the rear of a big semi about to merge onto the freeway, and there it was, painted in big letters across his rear doors: the word ‘Heartland.’

“I took it as a sign: I had to drive another three miles east to do it, but I got off that durned freeway and headed straight back west. Pun intended.”

(2) Subject: The world around us.

“I have a woodchuck residing under my garden shed. He/she just moved in this summer. Around late June or mid-July is my guess. I think it’s a youngster, as it’s a bit on the small side as woodchucks go and extremely shy. It’s very alert and runs for the burrow at the slightest sound, which I find a bit frustrating since I’d like to observe it more.

“Just now it was sitting on the pavers outside my lower-level door when I came downstairs. It’s the closest we’ve been. I thought I made no sound, but as I moved to the window for a better look, off it went, straight across the yard and into the burrow! Does its shyness mean six more weeks of summer?”

BULLETIN BOARD SAYS: From your fingers to God’s ears!

The Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon (responsorial)

KATHY S. of St. Paul: “Subject: Mae Wests.

“BOB WOOLLEY wrote in about Mae Wests — the nickname for the life jackets used around World War II. I think the idea was that it made a guy look buxom, back then.

“As I understand it, those life jackets lasted only an hour or three — nothing like those we have nowadays. My mom had 60-plus first cousins, many of whom (including one female) served in WWII. One wrote home to his Aunt Norah about having his plane shot down over an ocean, and waiting 12 hours in a raft with his crew before they were rescued. He said he started shaking at times as he waited to be shipped home, and he couldn’t figure out why. But he thanked her for ordering Fannie Farmer candy to be shipped to him.

“Mom lost only one of her cousins in WWII. George was an officer who was married and left behind one child: George Jr. George Sr. and crewmates had to abandon ship when they were attacked. He jumped off the ship with his group — probably in a Mae West — and was never seen again. George Jr. died not long ago. We never met in person, which I regret. I planned to fly to a family event to meet him and his wife, but COVID intervened. Carpe diem!”

Joy (or its opposite) of Juxtaposition

BILL OF THE RIVER LAKE writes: “Subject: Coincidence?

“I’m just finishing reading a book titled ‘Bomb,’ by Steve Sheinkin, about the history of the 1940s development of the first atom bomb in various top-secret places in the U.S. It’s an intriguing and scary story.

“Then, in today’s Pioneer Press is an article titled ‘Film tells U.S. bomb victims’ story.’

“Before we bombed two cities in Japan in August of 1945, we tested one in New Mexico, evidently not realizing that the resultant ash radiation would carry all the way to the East Coast!

“The new documentary is called ‘First We Bombed New Mexico.’

“Another mixed historical moment in our country.

“Sometimes ‘top-secret’ can have very tragic results. Even those uranium miners were not made aware of its risk.”

Oopps! (Spell-Check Was No Help Division)

Email from DONALD: “Subject: It’s a tougher game than I thought.

“This appeared in an article about the Twins on page 4B in the August 26 edition of the Pioneer Press: ‘”I [Zebby Matthews] definitely was happy with the performance out there,” he said. “I left a slider up in the fifth inning that Scott was able to put a barrel on, but for the most part, I executed the pitchers I wanted to.”‘”

The bumper crop

THE RETIRED PEDAGOGUE of Arden Hills: “Subject: Bumper sticker.

“HONK IF YOU LOVE JESUS

“TEXT IF YOU WANT TO MEET HIM”

CAUTION! Words at Play!

AL B of Hartland: “I’d spent the night at a lovely place called the Little Bluff Inn in Trempealeau, Wisconsin. A car parked next to me was covered in bird droppings. If the vehicle had been a Honda, the birds would have done their Civic doody.”

One for the books . . . And: The Permanent Fatherly/Daughterly Record

BIG EEK of Southeast Minneapolis: “I taught statistics at the University of Minnesota for 45 years. Over the decades, I developed stories and jokes for many of my lectures. Some involved props! For my students, those little extras were the spoonful of sugar that helped the math go down.

“One of my best was the fireman’s hat. In my Statistical Methods course, I taught students about spherical bimodal distributions. I told my students that a fireman’s hat is a pretty good representation of the shape of a spherical bimodal distribution.

“One year my students decided to buy me a fireman’s hat. I kept it on my desk at the front of the room. On the day I taught spherical bimodal distributions, I put the hat on my head and wore it for the rest of the lecture. That always got a big laugh.”

And now a story from The Middle Daughter (of Big Eek): “When I was 5 years old, we had Construction Paper Day at school. They gave us stacks of construction paper in different colors. They gave us paper cutters and glue. It was everything I needed to make a very special present for my father.

“I cut strips of construction paper in purple, red and yellow. I folded them together, accordion-style. I chose a large sheet of black construction paper for the base of my sculpture, so the colors would really stand out. I looped the folded springs of paper so they stood up boldly from the base. I glued them down and held them until the glue dried.

“It was beautiful. I carried it home on my lap in the school bus, being very careful not to squash it. I walked into the house and kept it in a safe place until my father came home from work.

“‘It’s a present,’ I said. ‘Do you know what it is?’

“At this point, I don’t know what I thought it was, but I know what he said: ‘By George! You’ve made a perfect model of a bivariate normal distribution!’

“I was thrilled.

“He kept it on his office shelf for the rest of his teaching career. On the day he taught bivariate normal distributions, he would carry my construction paper sculpture into class, blow the dust off it in front of his students, and tell this story.”

BAND NAME OF THE DAY: The Bivariate Normal Distributions

Your stories are welcome. The address is BB.onward@gmail.com.

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