Mostly miscellany

Here comes another “Mother Hubbard” column. 

That’s how preachers sometimes describe their sermons--comparable to “Mother Hubbard” dresses. 

They cover everything but touch nothing.

Why are we not surprised? Researchers claim that many companies are taking advantage of the inflationary climate. 

Their deception is called “shrinkflation.” 

Some devious practices are “double-whammies,” with prices going up and product size going down.

An egregious example is found on candy aisles, where Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup miniatures tempt many. They’re even “more miniature” now and cost more; prices have skyrocketed 68% in five years. 

Admittedly, higher prices abound on the other aisles, too. 

Manufacturers of paper products have tricked us, too. Most eyes cross when customers try to figure the real cost for rolls of towels and bathroom tissue. “Squeezing the Charmin” may soon be a punishable offense.

A political academician used the color wheel describing the recent election, generally resulting in a “deeper shade of red.” 

This is similar to an old Oklahoma State University ad that jabbed the University of Texas, known for its “burnt orange” school color. 

The ad claimed OSU’s to be “a brighter shade of orange.”

Former Texas A&M Coach R. C. Slocum--an all-time great--turned 80 on November 7. The winningest coach in the history of both Texas A&M University and the old Southwest Conference was flooded with hundreds of birthday wishes. 

This coaching legend “bleeds maroon.” 

But he was born in Orange, TX. I doubt that the shade was burnt.

We’re used to athletic teams having “official” connections with specific companies, as if their endorsements mean anything. 

Here lately, though, the hair on the back of my neck stiffens when I see the ad claiming Southwest Airlines to be the “official airline of the Southeastern Conference.” It reminds me of the gutted Southwest Conference, its death knell sounding when Arkansas, Texas, Oklahoma and Texas A&M bolted for the Southeastern Conference. I don’t think the SWC had an “official” airline. An “official” bus line? Maybe. Several of the schools were located too close to each other to justify flights. Oh, well, if regional rivalries are ever needed again, the TV/NCAA moguls will tell us. 

Come Nov. 30, Texas and Texas A&M renew a football rivalry that never should have ended. They’ll hook up in  College Station. It won’t be on Thanksgiving like yesteryear, when kick-off starting times of the teams’ nationally-televised games dictated turkey-carving time.

I rarely eat pie, mostly for caloric reasons, but a sad memory surfaces when I do. 

For many years, I ate desserts with abandon. One Thanksgiving, finding the pecan pie to be exceptional, I slipped into the kitchen to scarf down the remaining sliver of pie. Using the spatula-like thingy that looked like a mortar trowel, I stuffed the shiny object into my mouth, licking it clean before returning to the dining room. 

There, I was questioned about blood running down my chin. I was “found out,” clueless that pie servers  are serrated.

It was Sunday lunchtime when Southlake’s Philip Odette ordered “take-out” food for his family. “Be right back,” he assured. 

Before arrival at the restaurant, however, he noticed a “FOR SALE” sign on a ritzy home he’d always admired, and two more equally bold words--OPEN HOUSE--were too much. He stopped, entered the open front door and moved about freely, the aroma of candles luring him from room to room. How fortunate, he thought, to be the only one touring the home. Then, immediate mortification set in. He was standing in the doorway of the master bathroom, discovering a woman--amply covered in a large bath towel--applying eye make-up. 

Saying nothing, he ran from the premises, floor-boarded his car and glanced once more at the sign. In small type under the large, bold letters--proclaiming “FOR SALE/OPEN HOUSE”--the sign read: “2-4 p.m.” It was 12:30 at the time.

Dr. Newbury, longtime university president, continues to speak and write. The Idle American, begun in 2003, is one of the nation’s longest-running syndicated humor columns. Contact: 817-447-3872. Email: newbury@speakerdoc.com. Website: www.speakerdoc.com.