Lori Borgman finds the funny in ev­ery­day life, writ­ing from the heart­land of the US. Now, if she could just find her car keys...

Friday - - Contents -

Our colum­nist Lori Borgman won­ders how house­hold ob­jects man­age to get Hall of Fame sta­tus.

Last week we vis­ited a Base­ball Hall of Fame. It was a grand slam. I hope you didn’t miss the base­ball hu­mour in that last sen­tence. The Base­ball Hall of Fame was loaded with pho­to­graphs, mem­o­ra­bilia and sta­tis­tics of base­ball play­ers who set amaz­ing records. It even had in­struc­tional videos demon­strat­ing ways to im­prove your game.

I watched all the tips and now have com­plete con­fi­dence in my bat­ting stance. I’m not say­ing I could hit a ball, but at least I now know how to stand.

My brother-in-law re­cently men­tioned pass­ing the RV Hall of Fame. An RV, recre­ational ve­hi­cle, con­denses ev­ery­thing a house has – kitchen, fam­ily room, bed­rooms, bath­room – into a large box on wheels. In­stead of leav­ing home to go some­where else, you ba­si­cally go some­where else and take a minia­ture ver­sion of your home with you.

It is un­der­stand­able how an ath­lete with great phys­i­cal skills and ac­com­plish­ments gets into a hall of fame, but how does an RV qual­ify for a hall of fame?

I would nom­i­nate an RV for hall-of-fame sta­tus if an en­tire fam­ily trav­elled coast to coast and the kids never fought for a win­dow seat.

Maybe RVs are nom­i­nated to the Hall of Fame for the num­ber of miles trav­elled, most miles per gal­lon or the fewest ar­gu­ments be­tween driv­ers and spouses.

Award­ing inan­i­mate ob­jects hall of fame sta­tus is a fas­ci­nat­ing con­cept.

I think most of us own a thing or two that be­longs in a hall of fame.

What woman doesn’t have a pair of shoes she’d like to nom­i­nate to a hall of fame? Mine were from 20 years ago and felt like I was walk­ing in clouds.

The hus­band has a sports jacket in a rough, scratchy fab­ric in a big, loud or­ange plaid print that dates back to his col­lege days. He is banned from ever wear­ing it, but he would tell you that it be­longs in a hall of fame.

We had an air con­di­tion­ing unit that should have been sent to a hall of fame. When a tech­ni­cian came out to look at it in its fi­nal days, I told him it had been in­stalled long be­fore we moved here – back in 1976. He gave me a look of disbelief and went out to check the unit. He came back shak­ing his head and said, ‘You’re wrong, lady. It was in­stalled in 1974.’

Twice we have driven past the World’s Largest Mu­seum of Vac­uum Clean­ers, which is first cousin to a hall of fame, but both times it was closed.

I would NOM­I­NATE a Recre­ational Ve­hi­cle for HALL-OFFAME sta­tus if an EN­TIRE fam­ily trav­elled COAST TO COAST and the kids never FOUGHT for a WIN­DOW SEAT

As some­one who has spent a good deal of my life vac­u­um­ing, I can’t help but won­der what mar­vels might be in a vac­uum cleaner mu­seum. We re­cently took an­other trip in that di­rec­tion and in­tended to stop, but changed routes at the last minute and by­passed it.

The dis­ap­point­ment that per­me­ated the ve­hi­cle was felt by – ab­so­lutely no one. Ex­cept me.

I’ll al­ways won­der.

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