Pop goes the memory

During my grandson's Little League game, I bought some popcorn from a booth, and to my surprise it came in a small brown paper bag. Seeing it sent my mind traveling backward to the Common in Salem, Mass., when I was a boy and a popcorn man dispensed his product in the same kind of paper bag. The difference is that after filling the bag, he poured in a generous quantity of melted butter, which was hardly good for us but in this case, ignorance was truly bliss. Although the small bag was rather pricey at 10 cents, never did popcorn taste so heavenly. Sometimes I would splurge and also buy a Coca-Cola in a 6-ounce glass bottle for a nickel. Hot popcorn in a butter-stained bag and a cold Coke in a glass bottle -- it didn't get a whole lot better than that.

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Here's a puzzlement: Fred is 16 years younger than Joe. In 10 years, Joe will be twice as old as Fred. How old are they now?  Answer Saturday.

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This is not the Big Papi I remember.

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Gee, maybe I should have asked for a new rebate form (see earlier items). The DVD collection would have been quite a bargain and maybe this time I would have actually gotten the rebate. (And maybe the proverbial pigs would have flown.)

Step right up and get your money back

I call it Rebate Rage. It's a condition that occurs when you buy a pricey item on the promise that you will get all or most of your money back by mailing in a simple rebate form. At least half the time, it seems that even though you followed the instructions to the letter, you are notified that you didn't qualify for the refund. Either that or you hear nothing. When this happens to me and the smoke is pouring from my ears, I vow never again to buy anything that carries the promise of a rebate. So a while ago, I bought this great DVD set that will cost me only $9.99 when I get my rebate. Haven't heard anything from the rebate folks yet, though.

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Ah, New England, if ever I would leave you it wouldn't be in springtime, when the forsythia is butter yellow and the dogwoods are blooming. No, never in springtime.

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The song that the above entry is based on was popularized by Robert Goulet. Whenever Elvis Presley saw Goulet on television, Elvis would reportedly exercise his good taste by shooting out the TV tube.

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And speaking of TV, I despise those furniture ads in which  wealthy owners with obnoxious voices try to act like jovial regular guys. (I don't mean Barry or Elliot, whichever one that guy is.)

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Today's puzzlement: We know John F. Kennedy is buried at Arlington National Cemetery, but what other president is taking his final rest there? (Answer Wednesday.)

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Until my geezer class yesterday, I knew nothing about Aung San Suu Kyi. Now I am her number one fan. (You could look her up, in Wikipedia for instance.)