Speculation Binge

I guess it could be said, accurately enough, that I am a storyteller. That I have a penchant for makin’ shit up. Actually, most of my stories are just rants and descriptions, sometimes colorful, sometimes not, of actual events in my life. I am tempted, now and again, to stretch’em out a bit, but I do refrain from lying. Mostly, it’s not necessary, since life is stranger than fiction anyway.

But I do admit to a vivid imagination, one that is even sometimes a bit of a problem, since I tend to go off in my mind to God knows where, just at the wrong time. Like when I am needing to concentrate on making the devilled eggs. Like when I am having a conversation with someone. Like when I am watching the news. “Whut, huh, I didn’t know a 747 crashed in Portland, uh, whut, you say I was sitting here watching the news with you the whole time, and they showed that story just two minutes ago, oh, uh, I guess I was dreaming.”

Sometimes, walking the dogs around the block with my perfect wife Marie, I entertain her with my theories about our neighborhood’s residents, like if I notice someone’s lawn hasn’t been mowed for a decade, I will tell her all about the family member that died in Duluth, and how they had to go there for the funeral, but their daughter Katy didn’t go, she is staying next door, but she’s too young to mow the lawn, that sort of thing. Typically, she humors me, while I take a bit of twisted pleasure, watching her roll her eyes as I vehemently draw unfounded conclusions.

Those of you who visit here often, know that my wife Marie is apt to occasionally come up with some new phrase that knocks my little vocabular socks off. Today, once again while walking our pet puppies, Pippi and Poppi, I spied a house whose “For Sale “ sign had been removed, even though it just went up last week. Did they already sell the house, we wondered, and then with further ado, I began my diatribe on the rather obvious impending divorce that had been called off, and made the conclusion that, of course, they had gotten back together, and had taken down the sign, since they won’t be moving anyway. Marie, God bless her soul, gives me her perturbed look and giggles out, “Now Ric, don’t you start goin’ off again on another “speculation binge”. Is that not ripe?