Are the towers of plastic containers, stacked in descending volumetric order, that sit in kitchen cabinets across America our modern adaptation of Russian Nesting Dolls?

As you can see in the diagram above, we’re seeking input on what we should call the convergence of happiness and unhappiness. What would you call the overlap of these two opposites?

Click each photo for a close up photo of the graffiti

What do you think this graffiti above a bar bathroom urinal says about the community?

If the purpose of the lead is to morph on paper into class notes, shopping lists, rude doodles or anything else we imagine, then it’s the unrelenting mechanical pencil that pushes the lead to meet that potential.

If you think about it, it’s a metaphor for the people in our lives who support us and who egg us on. So if you find us calling you a mechanical pencil in the next few weeks, it’s not because we think you’re lanky, or that you’d look good with an eraser-shaped hat. It’s just our quirky way of saying thank you.

On a recent trip to a child-friendly farm, I was dismayed to learn that mass-produced pumpkin pies don’t use the wonderful, orange pumpkins that we so look forward to every autumn. Instead, the pumpkin of choice for canned pumpkin is bottle-neck pumpkin, and as you can see in the picture above, is more of a squash than a pumpkin.

How disappointing is that? All I need now is for someone to tell me that Santa Claus doesn’t exist.

A clown statue standing at the back of an ice cream shop in small-town Illinois.

And this little sign is standing on the counter beneath the clown.

“Please don’t touch me.”

Let’s just agree that we both go ahead and follow that rule, ok Mr. Creepy Clown?

As an AT&T customer, I was not particularly surprised when I saw the above message pop onto the screen of my iPhone. And, yes, I was using the phone at the time.

Today’s thought: An Apple’s Apple

The scent on the right is Mountain Breeze (with the green stripe), priced at $5.77 at a Walmart in Chicago. The one on the left (with the blue stripe) is clean breeze, priced at $7.54. It seems that the folks at Tide value certain elements more than others.

Or maybe it’s the result of extensive surveys where they found that people would pay more for their clothes to smell like air than spring water. Any thoughts? Do you have an elemental rank list?

(P.S. My mountain spring-fragranced clothes smell just fine.)

The watchful eye of time, keeping an eye on you, rather than you, keeping an eye on time.