Bill Cabage reminded me of this here story: When we lived in Norris, one of the cats had gotten sprayed by a skunk. We soaked her in tomato juice, but the house was still reeking when we got a knock on the door. It was this enthusiastic chap who was selling a three-volume encyclopedia. This was around 92, so rudimentary interweb services for looking up stuff had surfaced. But he asked us all to sit down in our skunk-scented home and listen to his compelling offer. My suspicion is that he signed on for this deal at the end of his college semester, and was desperately trying to get enough commission to buy a bus ticket back home. So he goes into his dog/pony about how the three-volume encyclopedia saves time because it doesnt have knowledge you dont need. And it would help with grammar. He looked at me and said, Do you ever have trouble with commas? Josh and Ian were howling by this time. Ian explained, Uh, no. Hes a writer. (Which got me off the hook from admitting that yes, indeed, I do sometimes have trouble with commas--although Im an Oxford comma man all the way, to the end, and under all circumstances.) The kid knew he was beat at that point. We apologized for the skunkiness. We got him some water. And we wished him well. He then hurried outside to stand in the summer heat and wait for his ride.
Posted on: Fri, 12 Sep 2014 23:41:38 +0000
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