CROSSROADS TO SOMEWHERE: When Does a Quandary Become a Quagmire?

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By W.T. WIMPY HIROTO

I’m sitting here fearful my quandary is slowly sinking into a quagmire. Not really. Just wanted to see how those two oddball words would look in the same sentence. [Not too good.]http://rafu.com/news/wp-admin/post.php?post=55462&action=edit&message=9

But, hey, yes I do have problems. Just like everybody else. Maybe not as pressing or worrisome as yours, but who’s counting? Mine are neither earth-shattering nor a Fujiyama of woe.

Like for example, I’m concerned about 46-page Los Angeles Times (Monday) editions; saddened I am by a 64-page Time Magazine arriving in Friday mail. It’s all a matter of gravity. Maybe I should pay more attention to Syria than a few strands of hair in the wash basin; global warming rather than the inconvenience of no a/c for a weekend. And typical of a self-centered Jappo mensch, I’m bothered by peanut brittle at $15 a box rather than a gallon of gasoline at $4+.

So why should I be in a quandary over a pair of publishing behemoths destined for a media graveyard? It means no one takes the time to read any more. Commercial television is experiencing this same disregard: Fewer people sit and watch. Everything these days is immediate, rapid, condensed. There is no place for dangling participles or split infinitives. If it’s not 140 characters, SOY [A CR2S original: “Shame On You!”] #Ashton Kutcher? Give me a break. Why in this convoluted world do people waste precious time following the antics of entertainers and athletes? Their vocabulary is nothing but initials and phonetic misspellings.

🙂 (: and @ to you, too!

Okay.  So maybe I wasn’t left wrapped in swaddling clothes. At the starting block. In the dust. At the gate. Alas, left at the altar. Other than insurance companies and AARP, there isn’t much interest in old(er) folk. But I’m not complaining. My Bucket List is growing shorter by the month. Meaning I’m having a whale of a time doing crazy things while running out of wannados and can’tdonomores.

We find time to worry about a shrinking, bankrupt newspaper, fercryin’outloud! Oh well, compared to those having an anxiety attack over when Tiger is ever going to win another Major or, NBA forbid, Kobe is soon to become just another has-been, I reckon ole WTH still has some wiggle room left before becoming #inconsequential.com.

CR2S seldom entertains suggestions from readers. [As Horse’s Mouth and Rafu Shimpo might reconsider their policy.] When it’s a sincere, well-intentioned public service, there is a difference.  When asked if I would point out (to the public) that Keiro Intermediate Care Facility (ICF) is a separate entity from the nursing and retirement homes, I agreed the separation was important.

ICF is that all-important mid-station between KRH and nursing home. All three are under the health care umbrella and function as a campus trio, but stand alone operationally. Which means if your interest and support is with ICF, you should make a monetary donation directly to it. [Which should not misdirect attention from the current Friends of Keiro benefit raffle drawing. The tickets arriving in your mailbox benefit the Keiro Retirement Home.]

While we’re at it, why not salute all of the dedicated volunteers at all the facilities; they could not function without them. And a special shout-out for the talented ladies who serve at the sewing center. They keep everyone neat, fitted and mended.

Instead of rib-ticklers, CR2S relies on personal travails to keep its readership (a) smiling, (b) laughing, (c) crying or (d) whispering “You gotta be kidding!” The most current embarrassing moment involves my computer. You know, that dastardly contraption that has you jaw-dropping in awe and a minute later making you feel like an idiot. My story:

I send my column to a select group of six for critique and criticism. I also use the same word processor “cut & paste” method when sending personal letters. Guess what, do I have to confess the “Oops” bonehead mistake that ensued? Instead of the column, a very personal letter mistakenly went through the e-atmosphere to the sextet! [There is a reason why private correspondence is termed “personal,” especially when addressed to a female.]

My two sons were recipients of the wayward words. They merely smiled and reminded dear ole dad that e-stuff cannot be retrieved, detritus or unrequited. As for kid brother, bless his puritan soul, he immediately noted the grave error and deleted, without so much as a peek. So that left three (including a sister-in-law) who were somewhat uncomfortable and inquisitive. Chagrin is not acceptable, especially to the person the letter was meant for.

I tell you, in all humility: What CR2S won’t (un)do for the sake of a column!

W.T. Wimpy Hiroto can be reached at [email protected] Opinions expressed in this column are not necessarily those of The Rafu Shimpo.

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