A late-summer story in the Wall Street Journal talked about individuals and companies that benefited financially from COVID-19—and presumably will continue to as we deal with COVID-20 and its anticipated sequels (oops: variants).
Like anyone who drives a vehicle old enough to be served a cocktail in most of the United States, whenever I need to drive somewhere more than three hours away, I rent a car.
See if you’ve had a recent exchange like this one, though with different names:
The advent of autumn in two days, and return of wool suits entirely too soon, reminds me that when it comes to men’s styles, I may well be fashion-backward.
Since I know how to ask people if they’re enjoying their meals when their mouths are full—and can also ignore people trying to get my attention— I’m thinking this might be a good time for me to get a job as a restaurant waiter.
If today is a day off for you, please accept my congratulations. I plan to spend the day pretending I enjoy beer’s acrid taste and men’s-room aroma. Also, like so many of you, I plan to char defenseless fauna on my Weber grill.
A number of you (three being a legitimate number) have asked if I plan to write about Bitcoin. The no-longer-dewy-fresh crypto-currency may very well be the harbinger of a new era in money or the financial equivalent of the low-rise jeans trend—which proved a major disappointment for fashion designers and retailers. (As I continue to be, on a daily basis. But I digress.)
Welcome to September! Until the past few years, this month’s arrival always had these comforting signifiers:
My sister and I never met. She died of encephalitic polio in the early 1940s. I wasn’t born yet. She was a year and-a-half old.
Some researchers recently theorized that our body parts are BFFs. “Maybe, they speculated, muscles and fat chatted together amiably after a workout.”
