A change of fortune

Recently I had lunch in a Chinese restaurant, and with the bill comes the fortune cookie.

Most of the time when you crack open the cookie you get a little slip of paper with some ambiguous words that make you wonder “This is a fortune?” Then you toss it away and either eat the cookie or toss it with the little slip of paper. Some of them just aren’t very tasty.

Comedian Alan King used to have a routine describing his family’s ritual of reading the fortunes from their cookies. He would always read his as “Help! I’m being held prisoner in a Chinese bakery.”

Some sources say that the little cookies aren’t even Chinese. Some say they’re Japanese; others say they were born in America. If one is in position to buy fortune cookies, it’s possible to customize the fortunes. Some are funny, either by accident or design. They’re all gathered together on the Internet. For instance:

The fortune you seek is in another cookie.

A closed mouth gathers no feet. 

A foolish man listens to his heart. A wise man listens to cookies.

You will die alone and poorly dressed.

If you look back, you’ll soon be going that way.

You will live long enough to open many fortune cookies.

He who laughs last is laughing at you.

He who throws dirt is losing ground. 

We don’t know the future, but here’s a cookie.

You will be hungry again in one hour.

Never forget a friend. Especially if he owes you.

It is a good day to have a good day.

That wasn’t chicken.

I am worth a fortune.

You have rice in your teeth.

Avoid taking unnecessary gambles. Lucky numbers: 12, 15, 23, 28, 37

Normally I don’t pay much attention to the fortunes in the cookies. Sometimes I don’t even bother with them. They’re often stale — the cookies and the fortunes.

This one was different. It had a citrus flavor and was fresh. And I loved the fortune.

A pair of new shoes will do you a world of good.

I plan to test that fortune!

Whatever happened to America?

Someone complained yesterday that flags were not at half mast in recognition of Sept. 11.

I don’t know flag etiquette, but it seems to me like it would show reverence and respect to fly the flag at half mast on this particular day. Maybe it isn’t required; I don’t know. I don’t remember what position flags were in a year ago.

What I do remember though is what the country was in the days and months after Sept. 11, 2001. We as a country were outraged. We vowed that the sleeping giant America had been until that date was awake and really ticked off.

Flags started appearing everywhere. On cars. In yards. In windows. It was a riot of red, white and blue.

And the rallies! Oh, my the rallies. I  can recall people marching toward the courthouse one afternoon. There were speakers. Our elected officials promised we would not be messed with. We were going after the people who killed our people in the towers, in that Pennsylvania field and at the Pentagon.

I recall standing on a corner, taking it all in, looking down the street at a crowd of people marching in tune to their outrage. In the midst of the crowd was a guy in a Taco John costume, a huge sombrero bobbing along with the rest of the crowd. It seemed funny, out of place, and yet so right.

On the second floor of the courthouse an elected official and a couple of staffers taped a sign in the window directed toward Osama bin Laden, believed to be behind the attacks of Sept. 11. It wasn’t obscene but it wasn’t something you’d want your grandmother to see. Yet, no one was offended. It was good for a chuckle.

We get offended a lot lately. That day, the sign seemed appropriate. The crowds felt safe. We were united in our sorrow and anger.

Time went on and little impromptu parades with placards on pickup trucks would roar through town – flags flying, horns honking, sabers rattling. Firefighters and police officers became heroes.

Then life went back to somewhat normal. The flags disappeared from the cars, from the yards, no one seemed outraged so much. The patriotism was there; it just got quieter.

Then it seemed like we forgot our anger, our outrage. We marked Sept. 11 as it came and went each year, but no one posted rude messages to the enemy on the courthouse windows, and the parades and rallies stopped. We were no longer united against an enemy bent on our destruction.

And America did an about face. Police became the enemy, rallies were replaced with riots and looters. Flags were burned and trod on.  As Pogo once said (for those old enough to remember Pogo): “We have met the enemy and it is us.”

What happened?

It’s fall – well, almost

Autumn to me has always felt like the beginning of things. Forget leaves falling from the trees signaling the coming of winter and the end of growing things. There’s nothing gloomy about autumn; there’s something fresh and energizing about it.

I don’t know why we celebrate the new year in the dead of winter. Chinese New Year comes at the beginning of spring, when people begin to look forward to all things new and fresh. That makes more sense than going out and celebrating in sub-zero weather, but really fall is when new years should start.

So much begins in the autumn. When I was a kid school started the day after Labor Day. Summer vacation was over, the swimming pools closed, there seemed to be a nip in the air. It was invigorating, and made you feel like getting out and doing something. There were new fall clothes for school, and new school supplies that brought about the determination that this year, you’re going to really apply yourself and get those grades up.

Autumn means eating hearty soup, chili, sipping hot chocolate. Moms would cook more substantial meals like stews and roasts. Fall meant it was cool enough to bake bread and cinnamon rolls without overheating the kitchen. Pies and cookies started appearing on the table. You just feel more ambitious in the fall, full of new zest and ambition.

New cars come out in the fall. The TV programs introduce their new lineups in the fall. Autumn means dragging your feet through the fallen leaves, wearing sweaters, and stepping on acorns and feeling them pop under your feet.

Fall holidays are more fun. There’s Halloween with hot cider, candy corn, and bobbing for apples. Before it got lost in the holiday rush, there was Thanksgiving with turkey and sweet potatoes and gravy and pumpkin and mincemeat pies. Thanksgiving had its own special feeling before Christmas took over later in December and reminded us that winter was coming.

Air conditioners go off in autumn, and people build bonfires outside to keep warm and roast hotdogs and marshmallows.

And best of all — Daylight Saving Time ends and we go back to normal and get that extra hour of snuggling under the covers against the brisk fall air. I can’t wait!

Happy autumn!

Losing track of time

You know why time seems to fly by?

I’ve just figured it out. It has little to do with getting older. It always seemed that the older you get the faster time goes by — once you get over the hill you pick up speed.

I used to think that, but I don’t any more.

Time flies by because people who are involved with mass marketing make us think it does. Case in point: Here it is August. We can still wear white shoes and pants. Pools haven’t closed yet. People are still grilling in their backyards. By all accounts, it’s summer.

But walk into any grocery or mart store and the first thing you see is Halloween candy. It’s out already. So is pumpkin spice flavored everything from chewing gum to cat litter.

That tricks us into thinking it’s fall. So we pick up a bag of Snickers here, and a couple of bags of candy corn there, and the next thing we know time has flown from August to October.

We open the bags of Halloween candy so we can sample one and make sure it’s fresh, and the next thing you know it’s all gone. Gotta get some more to have for the Trick or Treat ghoulies who come begging at the door. So we buy more, advancing the days even farther into fall. We can’t very well give the little beggars stale candy — if indeed any is left — so we buy even more, and that brings us to Christmas.

What happened to what was left of August, September and November?

Christmas stuff comes into the stores sometimes around the same time Halloween decorations arrive, so it can be easy to lose track of time. Then before the outdoor lights even come down, next thing you know the marketers are pushing heart-shaped boxes of chocolates on consumers. So now we’ve gotten all the way to February and the last thing we knew it was August and we were wondering how long this year’s T-shirts could stand another round in the washer.

I bet if we actually figured up all those lost months throughout the years we might realize that we are actually as young as we claim to be.