Small adjustments, big results

My wife didn’t like her pancakes much.

Her problem was that they sometimes came out a little burned, and while I don’t have a problem with slightly burned pancakes, she doesn’t like them, plus she just likes doing things the right way.

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And now, we hunker

The snowblower is in the garage, and the shovels are nearby.

The gas cans — even though they’re actually plastic — are full. The salt for cleaning ice from the driveway is at the ready.

The grocery shopping is done.

Yes, a snowstorm is on its way.

Now, we wait.

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What’s my greatest fear? (And some other questions)

If you read Vanity Fair, you’re familiar with the question-and-answer at the end of the magazine. It’s known as the Proust Questionnaire, and here’s Jane Fonda’s as an example. (No, we’re not related, much to her chagrin.)

Since I’ll never be famous enough to be in Vanity Fair, here’s mine.

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Advice to my 10-year-old self

If memory serves me right, being 10 was pretty cool.

My birthday was at the end of fourth grade, so I was mostly 10 in fifth grade. School was still more fun than not, and it was a couple years before the great sorting of adolescence, where kids drifted into the Cool and Not Cool tribes that persisted through most of high school. (I was definitely in the latter group.)

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The music that plays when the music stops for good

It’s probably not in the top 10 or 20 of things that annoy me (hmmm… have to keep that in mind when I have nothing to write about!), but I want to say “Noooooooo!!!!!” whenever I see people use “bucket list” when they mean to-do list or list of goals.

The main reason isn’t either semantic or pedantic, but because a “bucket list” is things you want to do before you die

… and I hate contemplating dying.

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Photo gallery: Being a Chargers fan

Whether the team is in San Diego or Los Angeles, if you’re a Chargers fan, disappointment happens.

You either have the disappointment of the team being lousy, or the disappointment of them being good, and it still ending badly.

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At least my glasses are clean

For some reason, I read the directions on the back of the box my lens-cleaning wipes came in when I opened it.

The last line of the directions — before the warning that the wipes are flammable and should be kept away from fire or flame (what exactly am I cleaning my glasses with, anyway?) — grabbed my attention.

”Do not flush.”

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Inside jokes … they’re what’s for dinner

Every week, my wife and I have a dinner party.

Sometimes, it spills into more chairs than fit our dining room table, and it can last for hours, if not days.

And when it ends, the next one is only a few days away.

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