This Week's Fluff: Things I Like For Which There is Only a Wobbly Basis

Ahem:

1. Val-Pack coupons. As anyone knows, I am no friend to the mass movement of culture vampires known as marketers sucking dry everything good, creative and right about American life. However, I like Val-Pack coupons. First, they aren't screaming at me. They invite themselves in politely through the mail, rather than whine for attention when I'm doing something else like talking to my friends, or breathing. Importantly, they aren't attached to anything else at all. I flip through them at leisure, amazed at the range of new teeth whitening possibilities in my own area- X-Rays required. Second, although I have no plans to go to the new Mexican restaurant, especially not while waiting for the steam cleaners to arrive, and even if I did, and there is no known method of handing over a 2nd dinner for 1/2 price coupon on a date and retaining a mote of respect from women, I am somewhat comforted by the simple fact that someone thinks enough of my neighborhood to open a new Mexican restaraunt in it. We're down two, and I appreciate the intiative. Well done, Sven!

In my authoritarian state, I am considered limiting all marketing to Val-Pack Coupon form. I think I actually used one once - or maybe I just was planning to.

2. The modest smooth jazz on the Weather Channel. Coltrane it ain't. But somehow, in the realm of smooth jazz, the people who chose this music avoided the cloying smoothness. It's not Michael Hedges or Kenny G. It is without ego. It's music so neutral, so generally acceptable, with out being noticeable so, that it's something of a minor cultural achievement. Our Undersecretary and I have long speculated that the band on the Weather Channel is playing live, forever, in shifts like Parliment, wearing sensible shirts, getting imperceptibly into the groove of the last low pressure system moving in, doomed always to soothe us into simply accepting the weather and not complain about it, even as our house washes down the Missouri to a G Major soprano sax riff.

3. The next one is credited to our President in Exile: the extremely cheap, and only the cheap, brand of twin-popsicles, which are allegedly Orange, Cherry, and Raspberry, but really have no relationship to flavors in actual food. The flavors are red, orange and blue. They celebrate their artificiality, making it a virtue rather than apologzing for it. At this price point - blue flavor is superior to actual raspberry flavor. Orange is the best- creamsicle-like, and I must make this clarification: they are not orange-flavored, they are orange-color flavored. They are $1.75 for 20 or so, and in hot weather - awesome. The freezing process is the trick: a lot of air whipped in I think, making them a little softer than others. If you like them, there are always more. Always. You can busk with the guitar for ten minutes and get enough money for red, blue and orange popsicles.

If you leave a bag of them out, though, you get a curious double bag full of tiny sub bags of bright fluid with wooden sticks in them, whose purpose seems more aesthetic than culinary.

I encourage you to add your own irrational likes here.