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Some odds and ends thoughts come to roost

Lots of odds and ends came to roost in my thoughts this past week before taking flight to settle elsewhere.

Good old TV westerns from the 1960s and ’70s were among them, mainly because I realized how much they make me laugh.

Now they weren’t created to do that, I figure, but I can’t help but chuckle at what happens and what doesn’t during episodes of these shows.

For one thing, the characters get in these awful knock-out, drag-out fistfights, and while there’s a lot of noise generated, they never have a bruise, blood or broken bone to show for it. Furniture gets damaged but never them.

Truly amazing.

Their survival of such things constitutes one medical miracle after another, and all the while their clothes are super duper clean. Brawls or no brawls.

I don’t know who does their laundry or if they use Tide Pods or what, but there must be an efficient dry cleaner within spitting distance for them if not a horse sprint away.

The main character cowboys, meanwhile, are all poster people for good dental hygiene. What straight, white teeth they all have! Cowboys apparently have one heck of a good dental plan.

And in their homes, when they light one little oil lamp in a huge room, you’d think someone had flipped on the switch for stadium lighting it’s so bright.

The old western shows are good because what’s gone sour within the first five minutes of an episode is all said and done and resolved in less than 60 minutes. Order is restored in a timely fashion!

As someone always under deadline pressure, I can appreciate that efficiency.

— Feedback is something I gave thought to as well, mainly that I appreciate it, even if at times it comes with some concern attached.

One female caller said she enjoyed my column very much and looked forward to it. But, goodness, she wondered aloud, when you talk about your husband (a.k.a. Better Half), she wasn’t sure how we managed to stay together in the midst of the printed word in this space sometimes, given some topics covered.

I thanked her for her call and thoughts and tried to reassure her about me and my husband’s longevity as a couple.

Handcuffs seem to do the trick.

— Do you ever get into those conversations where you’re challenged to remember when this was that and something was here but now it’s not?

And you’re stumped?

That happened to me during a conversation with a table of ladies, one of whom was mentioning she had been to Valley Wine Cellar at 825 Main St. in Wintersville for the first time and had enjoyed the experience so much. She said she didn’t realize it was there.

That led to another lady at the table offering a tad of local trivia, mentioning, well, do you remember when that particular building used to be the Wintersville Post Office back in the day?

I made one of my very unattractive, scrunched-up “huh?” faces. It was??!!

That didn’t ring familiar although I was surely around when that was its location. It bugged me a bit that I couldn’t picture it.

But I got over it. A good western is a good distraction from what ails a body.

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