The Slice: It’s a chip, it’s a burrito, no, it’s Taco Man

Last week’s “Cheney Man” discussion reminded Pullman’s Dick Fry of a long-ago moment of confusion.

“Back in the ’70s, Ann Murphy – now of Spokane – was our secretary in the old Washington State University News Bureau. One of her added chores was to scan regional newspapers for mention of WSU and clip the articles.”

Well, one day while Ann was going through some newspapers, she came across something that puzzled her.

“What’s a Taco Man?” she asked.

As Dick recalls, Al Ruddy, who had just joined WSU after having worked in TV in Spokane, asked to see the newspaper.

“They mean TACOMA’n, Annie, like a guy from Tacoma,” he explained.

Oh. Tacoman. Not Taco Man.

Thanks for sharing that, Dick. Now I’m hearing the Village People’s “Macho Man” – with predictably revised lyrics – playing in my head. Over and over.

Taco, taco, taco

I gotta be a Taco man

Fragrance crimes, No. 2: This comes from my friend Fran Menzel.

“Your question about too much perfume brought to mind an experience I had years ago. It wasn’t a case of being young and stupid as the ladies involved were up there in age. Nevertheless, here it is.

“I was attending the monthly Altar Society meeting at my church. We were meeting in a smaller room than usual and things were pretty tight. One of the last ladies to arrive sailed in on a tornado of rose-scented perfume. Immediately heads came up and tissues came out. Coughing and sneezing followed.

“One lady, however, started to wheeze and proceeded to have a full fledged asthma attack. We had to remove her to another room.

“Unfortunately ‘Rose Tornado’ was quite concerned for her friend and kept coming into the room to see how she was doing. Efforts to shoo her out were useless and she was heard loudly questioning what possibly could have sparked such a serious attack. We didn’t have the heart to tell her!”

I told Fran that I suspected some Slice readers would have been happy to inform ‘Rose Tornado’ her fragrance overkill was a menace.

“We were kind of hoping she would notice and figure it out herself,” Fran replied. “But apparently her nose had become numb to it. The wheezing gal ended up being taken home by her daughter.”

Today’s Slice question: Do marriage counselors ever have to resist the urge to burst out laughing in the middle of a session?

Write The Slice at P.O. Box 2160, Spokane, WA 99210; call (509) 459-5470; email pault@spokesman.com. Coming in Tuesday’s Slice: Third-graders come up with slogans for Spokane.