Making refrigerators safe for lunches

It requires wisdom to understand wisdom: The music is nothing if the audience is deaf.


– Walter Lippman

My weekend comments about the challenges of workplace refrigerators brought out this recollection from Phyllis Britt:

“We had what I fondly termed a ‘refrigerator Nazi’ in our office who would clear out everything in the fridge each Friday afternoon,” she writes. “If it didn’t have a date on it, including the owner’s initials, she threw it out – even the canned soft drinks. A bit extreme? Yes, but effective.

“On the other side, I have a friend who worked at SRS, and when someone kept stealing his lunch, he solved the problem by bringing his daily fare in an airline barf bag. No one ever touched it again.”

REFRIGERATOR TEST: Let me share this.

Milk is spoiled when it starts to look like yogurt.

Yogurt is spoiled when it starts to look like cottage cheese.

Cottage cheese is spoiled when it starts to look like regular cheese.

Regular cheese is nothing but spoiled milk anyway and can’t get any more spoiled than it is already.

Cheddar cheese is spoiled when you think it is blue cheese but you realize you’ve never purchased that kind.

HERMAN REMEMBERED: And speaking of responses, after I wrote last month about the life of Georgia’s late U.S. Sen. Herman Talmadge, I heard from three different readers in three different parts of the state who knew his widow – Lynda Cowart Pierce – quite well. It was a unique and unexpected “social triangulation.”

(I also heard some good Herman stories, which confirms my long-held belief that the politics of the past century were a lot more fun than they are today.)

TODAY’S JOKE: Augusta’s legendary lensman Robert Symms shares this:

Wayne was returning home from a business trip, bags in hand, and slowly making his way to his vehicle in the crowded airport garage. Suddenly a large dark car screeched to a stop in front of Wayne, and the driver pointed menacingly at him. “Get in,” the driver ordered. “I’ll take you to your car.”

Startled, Wayne took a step backward.

“Ah ... no thanks,” he answered. “I can get there myself.”

“No!” the man barked back as he threw open his passenger side door. “Get in!”

Wayne’s eyes now darted around the garage, hoping to find a security guard.

Just then, the driver’s face softened. “Please,” he said, “I’ve been driving up and down for two hours. I can’t find a space to park and I want yours.”

Workplace refrigerators are smorgasbord of half-eaten lunches


Sun, 12/17/2017 - 19:23

Empty Stocking Fund List