Living Wright: It all started with a scary guy in a puffy jacket
BY JASON ASHLEY WRIGHT World Scene Writer
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
9/25/12 at 6:43 AM
Go to Jason Ashley Wright's BlogOriginal Print Headline: Mr. Puffy almost inspires a police call
I almost called the police on Sunday night.
While hanging out at Lord V's with his niece, Phoenix, we traipsed outside to help him unload groceries from his car. That's when we found him chatting with a passerby on the other side of the fence. And by "chatting," I mean arguing, and exchanging the occasional off-color barb.
Turns out the guy, who was a total stranger, wanted to engage V in an impromptu religious discussion, to which V responded with something along the lines of "not at this moment" - to which the guy replied with a string of expletives, then something about homeless children.
That's when I sidled up to V and asked if he'd like me to call the police. It takes a lot to faze V, but it only took the stranger's puffy jacket and track pants to frighten me. I mean, seriously, it was 70 degrees, and he was dressed for an Arctic expedition.
But let's move on to another topic - several, perhaps. I know it's not the first Tuesday of the month, but I feel an ADHD-fueled, segue-free conversation via lagniappe coming on.
Pancakes and Mayans
Mr. Puffy Jacket eventually went his way, yammering on like a crackhead into the night. But it made me uneasy the rest of the evening, as I'd seen something similar to V's situation on a "Law & Order" rerun, and I totally wasn't prepared to meet Mariska Hargitay in this fashion - or non-fashion, as I was wearing flip-flops, plaid shorts, a 12-year-old Tulsa Park Department T-shirt and a paisley do-rag. I looked like Rolf the Muppet and Aunt Jemima's love child.
Speaking of Aunt Jemima, we are rapidly approaching pancake season - i.e., fall, which I equate with eating flapjacks. But I'm going to have to find a Dubya Dubya-friendly version of my beloved blueberry pancakes, which I'll have to top with fresh fruit in lieu of points-hogging syrup.
Does anyone around here call pancakes flapjacks? I know they're different from hoe cakes and johnny cakes, neither of which I've had. Anyone an expert on these with a recipe to share? Oooh, what about a waist-friendly hoe cake? Or, perhaps, a less unfortunate sounding name?
Not that I need pancakes, as I'm quite happy with my oatmeal and banana each morning, which makes me feel better in the morning than my Diet Coke. However, having cut down on my DC consumption dramatically, I find that my head starts hurting by 11 a.m. and 4 p.m. during the week. I'm told to wait a week, keep drinking my water, and the pains should subside. So I'll test that theory in 2013.
That's assuming we live to see it. Of course, I'm mostly joking - nothing against the Mayans, whose descendents are lovely people with fabulous all-inclusive resorts on the Yucatan. But I refuse to believe the world's just going to implode or figuratively go to hell because of a calendar.
I'm hoping it's like Dan Piraro's Bizarro cartoon from a few years back, with a Mayan holding a round, stone calendar, saying, "I only had enough room to go up to 2012." And another Mayan said, "Ha! That'll freak somebody out someday."
So let's assume the Mayans were pranksters. Might not hurt to get those blueberry pancakes checked off the bucket list, though.
