October mail bag
I just realized it has been several months since I went to my fictional mailbox and answered the letters you, my faithful readers, wish you had sent. So, let’s not dilly dally.
Allison in Albany writes, “Dear John what does ‘dilly dally’ even mean? You sometimes use phrases and language that sound ancient. Are you like from the 1800’s or something? What was Abe Lincoln like? Just curious.”
Well Allison, I didn’t know Abe that well but I can tell you his favorite saying was, “A penny for your thoughts.” Now, to your question. Dilly dally has two meanings. For starters it is the name of an alternative rock band from Cananda.
No I’m not kidding, Google it. Second it was a term taught to me by my grandfather before they invented the wheel. It means wasting time, which I just did answering your letter. Moving on.
Bob in Broadalbin has a sports question. “Mr. Gray, the Yankees, Giants and Knicks all stink. Do you have an explanation for why New York teams are so bad?”
I do Bob and it’s a simple answer. God is from Boston.
Sam in Saratoga just wrote a follow-up letter. ‘Dear John, why do you think God is from Boston?”
Hi Sam, I can answer that with a question- have you read your old testament? Every other word there is “Wicked.” Things are always “wicked this” and “wicked that.”
The only people who use the word “wicked” in a sentence that much are from Boston so there you go.
Elsa in East Greenbush has a politlical question, “Hey John I saw that Elizabeth Warren is like 1,024th Cherokee. Do you have any Indian blood?”
Great question Elsa. I’ve never done my DNA with one of those websites because I think the whole thing is a bit goofy. That said I have been able to confirm that I was the only person in America who saw that Lone Ranger movie with Johnny Depp and Armie Hammer and actually liked it. That shows me I probably have some Indian blood somewhere in my history. That or maybe I just like everything Johnny Depp is in. Let me get back to you on that one.
Grace in Glenmont has another political question, “Dear John, I respect your opinion and I’m so confused. I see these TV commercials for these two people running for congress and they both say horrible things about each other. Are they both lying?”
Hello Grace, let me start by saying the word lying is a bit harsh. I’d prefer we go with “big fat fibber.” Now that we’ve softened the language a bit let me tell you everyone running for office anywhere in the country who is saying nasty things about his or her opponent is, to one degree or another, a big fat fibber. Good luck flipping a coin.
I have Mike the millennial writing me now, “Hey Gray. I just graduated college with a mountain of debt and have an office job I hate. Any suggestions on how to feel better about my life?”
Hi Mike, thanks for taking a break from snapchat to reach out and, yes, I think I can help you. I want you to imagine the worst day at your cubicle at work. Got it? OK, now imagine it is 1970 and your “career” is a pin setter at the local bowling alley. Your job is to jump into the greasy dirty pit where the pins go after someone knocks them down and scoop them up with your bare hands. You then have to leap out of the way before a 16 pound ball comes barreling down the lane and breaks your knee caps. That, my sweet Michael, is a tough job. Not yours. Now go finish your soy milk vanilla latte.
Tonya in Troy has a personal question, “John the other night on the news you read a story about Sears closing more stores and maybe going out of business and you seemed so sad. Why?”
Well Tonya I’m old enough to remember when taking a trip with your parents to a big department store like Sears or Montgomery Wards was an actual event. I mean you really looked forward to it. Especially this time of the year because the store’s Christmas catalog would arrive at your house and for the next eight weeks you and your siblings would spend hours looking at the toys and circling the ones you wanted. Seeing those old stores all get destroyed by Amazon and online shopping does make me sad.
I’ll leave you with this. In 1975, when I was just 12, my tiny bedroom in South Troy was cold so my grandfather took me to Montgomery Wards in Menands and bought me the nicest blanket they sold. Forty-three years later that blanket still sits at the foot of my bed. I know things change and some things inevitably go away but I have nice memories going with my family to Wards and Sears and Macy’s and Two Guys department store. You can call me a sentimental fool and I’ll plead, “guilty as charged.”
Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s chilly today, so I’m going to go grab my blanket.