The other day I misread the service-marked Salvation Army slogan (Doing the Most Good) on the side of one of their delivery trucks as: "Doing Mostly Good." Late onset dyslexia? There has to be a name for this phenomena or syndrome or whatever, so I googled "misreading words seeing letters that aren't there" and came up with a number of hits including the topic "I see words that aren't there" under the "I love words" forum on: www.experienceproject.com/stories/Love-Words/128412)—a site devoted to building "the largest living collection of life's experiences." Some day, I will poke around the site more. I am just glad, dear Rose, that I am no longer writing headlines or having to sign off on news pages before the printing press spits it out (in black and white and read all over). And I don't appear to suffer from Irlen Syndrome (from a cursory look at the self-test at www.irlen.com/long_self_test.php). One of the many work anxiety dreams from my newspaper days/nights featured a headline written, by me, announcing that the actress Elizabeth Taylor was dead. The old girl is still with us, making bad perfume.
A few days ago, UPS rang with a delivery and, as I was signing for the package, a man on a bicycle rode by with bags of cotton candy hanging from a stick. My camera was up on the third floor. I was so distraught at this missed visual opportunity that my man in brown offered to flag cotton candy man down for me in his truck. But no, no, thank you, no, "cinéma vérité," I think I muttered. Sweet man in brown shrugged.
I was looking out the window this morning to look at the sky and...
Viva Mexico! The Mexican consulate is just a few blocks from my home. In the summer, paleta vendors park their pushcarts on the corner for hours. Walking to the mailbox is a good excuse to enjoy a nice coconut popsicle on the way home. Bravo to this man who is working his ass off, selling coloful spun sugar in the dead of winter.