Dear Mr. Answer Man

Dear Mr. Answer Man,
Today at noon I was in a crosswalk walking north, halfway across the street, and a little black SUV coming south made a left turn before I was out of its way. The SUV clipped me and the driver's window was open and I heard the man say "oh!" like he was surprised at the sound of the impact. The SUV spun me around in a counter-clockwise direction but I never fell down. I assume that the driver never stopped or slowed down because he saw in his rearview mirror that I remained on my feet. Is that proper etiquette?
Intact in the Suburbs

Dear Intact,
No, of course it's not proper etiquette. As far as I can tell, you never apologized for hitting the SUV, which, as a vehicle, had the right-of-way. If possible, try to get a witness who can give you the SUV's license plate so that you can track him down and mail a handwritten apology and a small amount of cash, less than $100, as a token of your sincerity.

Dear Mr. Answer Man,
Your lack of empathy makes me wonder how you got that job.

Dear Intact,
Given that we are typing to each other via the fingers of Bill McCluskey, I'd say you have better things to worry about than how I, a figment of his/your imagination, got an imaginary job. Which is about to be farmed out to Bangalore, anyway.

Clive James on nuts

Clive James writes about Macadamia nuts:
When I left Australia fourteen years ago, the only way of getting at the kernel of the Macadamia was with a large hammer, since the nut came equipped with a casing of the same dimensions and consistency as ball-bearing ammunition. If you swung the hammer absolutely vertically the casing fractured and the kernel rolled away. If your swing was even slightly angled, the nut disappeared with the sound of a ricocheting bullet, and you might see an old lady collapse in the street, clutching her forehead.
From the anthology Flying Visits.

Al Franken, boy caddy

In Tom Davis's memoir he passes along a story from his old writing partner Al Franken, from when Al was a boy:
At thirteen, he earned money as a caddy at a country club golf course. One golfer was playing poorly and became cranky with his caddy.

Golfer: "You must be the worst caddy in the world."

Al: "That would be too big a coincidence."
From Thirty-Nine Years of Short Term Memory Loss by Tom Davis

Status update

If that damn cockroach would just step into one of the ten roach motels I've set up around this apartment, I think it would be like winning the Powerball Lottery. UPDATE: He did, and it isn't.

Hypothetical Facebook status settings for my dad:
This country is going to hell in a:
a. handbasket
b. bucket
c. second, because of the Democrats
d. '68 Camaro

I admit that advertising influences how I spend my money. Old commercials for Snickers candy bars said: "Packed with peanuts, Snickers really satisfies." Every couple of weeks I get a jar of peanuts, just because of that ad.

The mother and her three-year-old daughter got on the train and sat down in the seat just ahead of mine. The girl was quiet and looked out the window for a minute until she got bored. She got up on her knees and turned to face me sitting behind her. Tired already, she leaned against her mom and stuck her thumb in her mouth, looking at me the whole time as I read. It had never occurred to me to try this on the morning commute. I could turn around in my seat and stare at the person behind me. I'll let you know how it goes.