The Slice: Quick thinking helped avoid Doomsday
Let’s go back in time one week.
Joe Kramarz has an 89-year-old friend, Jack Rogers, who does Bloomsday every year. But Rogers had major back surgery not long ago and it did not look like he would be able to take part in the 2012 event.
Finally, he got his doctor’s OK to ride the course in a well-padded wheelchair. Kramarz and several others volunteered to push.
But when Team Rogers got to the starting area last Sunday, Kramarz realized he had forgotten the wheelchair’s foot supports. So Kramarz’ wife, Becky, found a discarded pair of sweatpants in a tree and they fashioned a sling for Rogers’ feet.
With Rogers walking much of Doomsday Hill and again at the finish, their time was 2 hours and 40 minutes.
During peak flow the Spokane River sounds like … : “Thunderous applause,” wrote Melody Edwards.
Secret to not thinking about burglary while camping: “Simple,” wrote Jenny McMaster. “I manage with the three M’s: Margaritas, martinis and mojitos.”
Making it to the end of a challenging exercise session: “I think about giving birth,” wrote Genny McKinley. “In fact, I use that a lot when faced with a difficult task. I think, OK, I’ve been through labor and delivery three times. I can do this.”
Today’s Slice question: One night last week when I was on the phone with my mother, I jotted down a short list of items she wanted from the store. My wife later said she would pick them up the next day.
But when it came time for her to consult the grocery list I had scribbled, deciphering my writing wasn’t easy. My mother had asked for one-quarter pound of sliced deli ham. To my wife’s eye, though, what I wrote initially looked like “14 pounds” — a lot of ham for a light-eating elderly woman who lives by herself. She eventually figured it out.
But I suspect that not all grocery list confusion gets headed off at the pass. So here’s the question.
In your family, what did a misreading of a shopping list produce in the way of unexpected purchases?
Write The Slice at P.O. Box 2160, Spokane, WA 99210; call (509) 459-5470; email firstname.lastname@example.org. Going-to-the-Sun Road doesn’t really get all that close to its proclaimed destination.