Potpourri: Reporter’s Notebook

Every now and then it is a good thing to revisit the odds and ends, thoughts and observations that fill one of the notebooks that I stumble upon in a search for something else. This happens with books, as well. A search for one book leads to reading another and at the end of a page or two the title of the first book has escaped into the stratosphere. But that’s okay. There’s never a shortage of things to read.

Anyway, my list of head-scratchers is as follows.

There are all sorts of games on the internet for which one may earn points. What are those points for? Can I use them to buy stuff, or maybe they can only be used to buy more points? And who keeps track of these points, anyway? And where are these points kept?

The three largest makers of single-use plastic (mostly used to bottle sodas, fruit drinks and water) are placing their lack of responsibility into the laps of the consumer. That’s right. In a fairly modest television ad campaign, those companies suggest that it’s incumbent on the consumer to make sure to recycle those bottles. What would seem more prudent would be for those companies to create a 100 percent recyclable material. Or perhaps we should stop buying their products altogether.

Who knew? I read the following on a jar of peanut butter: Contains Peanuts.

The House select committee investigation of the 1/6 Capitol insurgency has drawn attention to our still-prudish use of the English language. Little progress has been made since 1972, when comedian George Carlin compiled his “Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television” monologue. The words, in the order Carlin listed them, are: “shit”, “piss”, “fuck”, “cunt”, “cocksucker”, “motherfucker”, and “tits”.

I suspect the last four will still be whispered or bleeped for at least another generation or two. But now, we’ve heard members of the House pronouncing the first two, while a variant of the third word is still used as if the television audience is largely made up of holdovers from the Victorian Age. “F…ing” is barely whispered, with the whisperer lowering her/her eyes as if in shame.

Unprovoked shark attacks. Are there any other types of shark attacks? And, if so, what must one do to provoke a shark? More significantly, why would one do that?

Mesothelioma is a terrible disease that is the result of long-term exposure to asbestos. People who have worked in the shipbuilding industry and those who actually mined asbestos are most susceptible. Naturally, a cabal of ambulance chasers are soliciting those who might actually have the disease. There’s money in them thar hills, after all.

Part of their television campaign involves distributing a book about the disease. An elderly woman, pictured next to, presumably, her husband, pleads that the audience ask for the book.

“Call for a free copy of the book and receive so much more.”

I want to know what the “much more” part means. Do you get a box of Bit O’ Honey candy bars? Or a lifetime supply of amoxicillin?

These are confusing times we live in.

There’s a new hospital in Bozeman. It looks pleasant enough—lots of steel and glass. And the company, which has its headquarters in Billings, has a marketing department that is presumably spearheading its advertising campaign. What strikes me as odd is that it is typically up to the doctor to recommend any sort of hospital visit. At least I don’t think you can walk into the lobby and request blood tests or an MRI.

One of the idiots who remodels houses on HGTV while his brother stands around explaining how a $375 improvement can result in a $7,000 raise in property value. Here’s how he starts a commercial for ADT, a home protection company: “Fact: We all love video doorbells.”

Let’s be clear about this. I don’t love video doorbells because I’ve never seen one. We don’t even have a non-video doorbell. If there are people who want access to our house, their best bet is to knock on the door.

Then he goes on to talk about an imaginary woman who accomplishes such tasks as playing my favorite Jethro Tull tunes when I direct her to do so. Oops. We do not have any such technology. And I’m not sure I want to have such technology. I certainly don’t care to listen to Jethro Tull.

Another sign of aging was pointed out to me. I double space at the end of typing a sentence which, apparently, is something of a sure sign of my fast approaching dotage.

It is abundantly clear to me that warning labels need to be affixed to books. Placed somewhere on the back of the dust jacket—between the author blurbs and synopsis—these warning labels will serve to forewarn potential readers of the dangers that lie within: thought, challenges to the status quo, possible exposure to new ideas, laughter, tears, violence, sex, et cetera. In other words, stuff you might find in the Bible.

Photo illustration by Courtney A. Liska

Black Bean and Corn Salad

It’s time start making refreshing side dishes for any number of outdoor dining events. This is one of my favorites.

2 cans, 14 ounces, black beans, rinsed and drained
2 cups frozen corn
1 small red bell pepper, seeded and chopped
1 red onion, chopped
1 avocado, chopped
1 Tbs. ground cumin
2 tsp. hot sauce
Juice of one lemon
2 Tbs. olive oil
Small bunch of fresh basil or cilantro, coarsely chopped

Combine all ingredients in a bowl. Let stand at least 15 minutes for corn to fully defrost and flavors to combine, then toss and serve.