Before I go to bed at far too late of an hour for any living organism, I just wanted to discuss a rather strange incident that happened while I was at Borders tonight. I was in the art and design section, minding my own business, when from the middle of the store I heard some of the most God-awful cacophonous laughter I have ever heard in my life. I had no clue what in the hey-hi-howdy-ho was going on, so I more-or-less discreetly observed what was happening from my section.
Old Man Winter, unfortunately, is upon us, and while I know that at least four of you live in the nice and roasty-toasty warm South (relatively speaking, anyway), the season is bearing down on us here in the Northeast already, just like a fat lady who accidentally sat on a Pomeranian. Already we’ve had something like thirty-eight feet of snow. I mean, I live on the fifth floor of a building. I shouldn’t be able to open my window and jump out and land only a few inches below my windowsill into an icy pile of snow and slide all the way down to ground level, but I practically can.
It’s interesting living in what is, essentially, a shopping district. I live on 86th Street in Brooklyn on a block of the 86th Street B.I.D. A “B.I.D.,” for those of you who don’t know, is a “business improvement district.” This name implies that somewhere there’s some agency or something that would try and improve business on 86th Street, but as far as I can tell, the only thing they do is provide the guys who empty the garbage along the street with coveralls that say “86th Street.”
My, how the times have changed. I can remember Laffy Taffy from when I was little, and I specifically remember that the wrappers included riddles to keep you occupied while you tried to gnaw through this particularly sticky and viscous mess of candy.
Well, I discovered today that Laffy Taffy is in fact still made, but it’s not really “taffy” anymore, as it’s now sort of a soft, enlarged version of a Starburst but with more of a plasticene flavor. And the riddles that at some point used to bear at least a minor semblance to something entertaining have become pathetically bad.