Mountain Views News, Combined Edition Saturday, November 4, 2023

14

OPINIONOPINION

Mountain Views-News November 4, 2023 

RICH JOHNSON 

NOW THAT’S RICH

STUART TOLCHIN

MOUNTAIN 
VIEWS

NEWS

PUBLISHER/ EDITOR

Susan Henderson

PASADENA CITY 
EDITOR

Dean Lee 

PRODUCTION

SALES

Patricia Colonello

626-355-2737 

626-818-2698

WEBMASTER

John Aveny 

DISTRIBUTION

Peter Lamendola

CONTRIBUTORS

Stuart Tolchin 

Harvey Hyde

Audrey Swanson

Meghan Malooley

Mary Lou Caldwell

Kevin McGuire

Chris Leclerc

Dinah Chong Watkins

Howard Hays

Paul Carpenter

Kim Clymer-Kelley

Christopher Nyerges

Peter Dills 

Rich Johnson

Lori Ann Harris

Rev. James Snyder

Katie Hopkins

Deanne Davis

Despina Arouzman

Jeff Brown

Marc Garlett

Keely Toten

Dan Golden

Rebecca Wright

Hail Hamilton

Joan Schmidt

LaQuetta ShambleE

PUT THE LIGHTS ON

POST HALLOWEEN THOUGHTS


BEFORE I SPEAK, I HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY

I delayed writing this column until today because I 
wanted to share my post-Halloween trick or treating 
experiences with you and see if we had much in common. 
This morning my daughter took the trouble to 
phone and let me know what a difficult night she had 
because her barely four year old daughter claimed to be 
so frightened that she could not get to sleep and required 
that she be able to sleep in bed with her parents. I believe she might have 
been faking the fear but who knows what’s real and what isn’t especially 
during Halloween.

 During that hour before real darkness set in my granddaughter, 
daughter, son, my wife and I and the two family-dogs all met up to go trick 
or treating together. There is a well-known one block area nearby which 
is cordoned off to accommodate the great multitude of trick or treaters 
going from house to house and walking in the street from one highly 
decorated house to another. The evening did not begin well as I tripped 
getting out of the car on the passenger side, thankfully, and fell flat on 
my back. I am now very close to eighty years of age and well over two 
hundred pounds. My wife, also in her seventies, attempted to raise me up 
but had difficulties and fortunately a man who saw her struggling came 
to her aid. Together they got behind me and lifted me off the ground. As 
they lifted me I thought to myself that I did not want to know how badly 
I was injured and sort of wished that everyone would just go off and trick 
or treat or whatever and just allow to lie there and come back later if they 
felt like it. 

 Well, despite my worry and hesitation they got me to my feet. I 
was able to stand, and experienced some pain particularly in the tail-bone 
area. Really though, the pain was much less than I feared and I assured 
everyone that I would be able to carry-on. I picked up my “fishing pole” 
and the attached fish. Pursuant to my request, my wife had magically 
created them ten minutes before we left the house. I happened to be wearing 
bib overalls already as these pants with their attached suspenders had 
reminded me of my only 
remembered trick or treat 
costume. Shortly after arriving 
in California, when 
I was almost nine, my 
family stayed at my Aunt 
Rosey’s and Uncle Harry’s 
house. He created a Huckleberry 
Finn costume for 
me. The costume consisted 
of a stick and attached 
string with cut-out cardboard 
fish. I wore a straw 
hat and overalls and, with 
my wife’s help, was able to 
duplicate my remembered 
costume of seventy years 
ago.

 Back to last night. 
Off we all went aged injured 
me trailing behind. I don’t know if my granddaughter actually saw 
me fall but she walked back to me and demanded that she have the fishing 
pole claiming it to be hers. I told her she was wrong and that the fishing 
pole and fish were mine. Hearing that she reached up and grabbed the 
fishing pole at the bottom and actually said. “We can share it”. At that 
moment I immediately thought how creative she was and wished that Israelis 
and Palestinians could negotiate such an agreement. I was proud 
of my granddaughter’s creative attempt at a solution but learned from my 
daughter this morning that “sharing” was something talked about in her 
expensive pre-School. My granddaughter talks about “sharing” all the 
time but really isn’t very good at it. Not surprising since that’s the way the 
rest of us seem to continue to be. 

 In case you are wondering, my back still hurts today and I am told 
it might get worse. Tomorrow I go to see my primary care physician and 
hope that the Doctor has the remedy for all my fears and confusion. Now 
that would be a surprise!

My birthday, Halloween, 
rushed by again this year. 
So sad this most sacred 
holiday so quickly disappears. 
Congress should 
pass legislation making “Halloween” the 
first two-day holiday. Who’s with me? I do 
personally find great satisfaction and pleasure 
knowing, on my birthday, millions of 
people dress up to look totally weird, and 
consume empty calories centering on sugar, 
salt, starch and fat. We need a second 
day to recover from the sugar rush!

Sadly, but true we’re suddenly faced with 
another dismal, dreary November. November, 
like several other months is broken. 
How is it broken you ask? It’s very name! 
“Novem” means “nine” in Latin. Yet, November 
is our eleventh month. “Septem”, 
our ninth month means “seven”, “Octo” 
“eight” describes our tenth month, and 
“Decem” means “ten” not twelve. No wonder 
we’re off kilter.

I’m not alone with my disdain for November. 
You know who also was no fan? The 
Bard himself, William Shakespeare. Yep! 
In the 37 plays and 154 sonnets written 
by “Willy”, the word “November” is never 
mentioned once. Shakespeare knew something 
was screwy with November.

November even starts out weird and surreal 
in our culture. November 1st, itself is 
our national “Day of the Dead” celebration. 
What? Probably related to October 31sts 
candy consumption?

On the good side of the ledger, we do get 
one sliver of an extra hour of sleep when we 
turn the clocks back ending Daylight Savings 
Time On Sunday, November 5th…yay 
for small favors!

Among the relatively few noteworthy 
events occurring in November, President 
Lincoln delivered his Gettysburg Address 
commenting on our Civil War in progress, 
November 19, 1863. Now most politicians 
are known for their “verbosity”: Using 
more words than needed. Why speak 500 
words when you can speak 5,000? One element 
of Lincoln’s brilliant Presidency is he 
was not “verbose”. He was known for his 
“brevity” or briefness. Hence, the 272-word 
“Gettysburg Address” is one of the most 
memorable speeches in American History. 
It took two minutes to deliver. Politicians 
will never take note!

Let’s us take a lesson from Abe: If you are 
ever asked to speak, think KISS (Keep it 
short…stupid). Inversely proportional 
rules of the universe tell us the shorter we 
speak, the smarter our audience will think 
we are. And they just might remember 
what we said.

In conclusion everyone’s favorite Greek 
philosopher, Epictetus the Stoic once said: 
“He is a wise man who does not grieve for 
the things which he has not, but rejoices for 
those which he has!” (Stoicism by the way is 
enduring without showing emotion.)

There are always extraordinary reasons to 
be thankful: Every November I’m thankful 
I’m not a turkey.

Speaking of turkey, I’m thankful for Saliva. 
Hey, it comes in handy at Thanksgiving 
Dinner. Shhhh, don’t tell the turkey.

Thankful for color: Imagine a black and 
white world. Yuck!

Fingernails! I love having my back 
scratched. You? Wanna scratch my back?

Spoons! Ever eat raisin bran with a fork?

Toilet Paper: During COVID I purchased 
a lifetime supply of TP. I considered the alternatives. 
Not gonna run out of TP on my 
watch.

Duct Tape: One of civilization’s greatest inventions. 
Thank you, Mr. Duct!

Tofu, Oops, wrong list!

Salt! 14,000 known uses for salt like preventing 
weeds from growing in patio 
cracks.

Scissors. Try to get a pair of scissors out 

of its packaging without using a pair of 
scissors.

Hair? So overrated! Just ask Yul Brynner!

Finally, I am most thankful for…my 
friends, family, pets (past, present, future), 
faith, music, my opposable thumbs and my 
big toes (not necessarily in that order).

Oh my, almost forgot taste buds. That’s 
what drives this machine called Rich Johnson. 
Have a good week. Sit around and pontificate 
on thankfulness.

Speaking of the something important I 
have to say… One of my favorite musical 
groups, the Doo Drops are playing Saturday 
night, November 18th at Nano Café. 
6:30-9:30. Everything from 50’s and 60’s 
Doo Wop, Motown, and rock and roll. I’m 
not gonna miss it! Make reservations (626) 
325-3334. Nano Café, 322 W. Sierra Madre 
Blvd., Sierra Madre!


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DINAH CHONG WATKINS

CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE 
WRONG KIND


SIXTH SENSE

There’s an infamous street in the neighborhood 
where mobs of ghouls, ADHD goonies, Party City 
costumed superheroes and their children roam on 
Halloween. 

Larger than life skeletons, witches and spiders bolt 
out from the shadows, the result being Mom and Dad will have to do an 
extra load of laundry later.

The scariest encounter I had recently was not bumping into Freddy 
Krueger in a dark, lonely alley or an overgrown marsh after midnight. After 
all, this is a guy who in LA could take full advantage of a good Beverly 
Hills plastic surgeon and a luxury manicure. 

No, it was courtesy of the United States Postal Service. The plain white 
legal size envelope came right to my door, as innocent as the Von's weekly 
flyer. It was fortunate when I opened the letter I was sitting down rather 
than standing near a large body of water or a raging fire pit. 

I read the letter, bureaucratic mumbo-jumbo followed by a list of numbers 
and ending in a highlighted box with an unspeakable amount of digits 
marked PAYMENT DUE, it was my property tax bill. Bloodcurdling? Michael 
Myers, take a number.

In horror movies, the hero is usually saved by a premonition. An intuition, 
a knock on their inner door that saves them just in time from the 
monster's steel-edged claws. 

I have had premonitions. Ones in the middle of the night that goad me to 
call a friend or relative to check that they’re alright. Ones that make me 
say a prayer for their safekeeping after being told not to call after 9 pm 
EST. Ones that make me buy what the analysts clearly say is a mediocre 
performing stock. 

I am that teenager who ends up in the movie body count. My premonitions 
are as fool-proof as a “bear resistant” trash can. Like the Texas Rangers, 
I’m batting 0-39. I try to ignore my premonitions, knowing my track 
record but it’s hard to dismiss that inexplicable heaviness that haunts me, 
I run over to Cinnabon to lift my spirits.

But like our hero's journey, I too have the knack for being in the Wrong 
Place at the Wrong Time. During the beginning of my career, after months 
of grueling, nonstop negotiations with the team consisting of Me, Myself, 
and I, I took an unauthorized three day tropical weekend. It was relaxing, 
refreshing, rejuvenating until on the flight back to work, my boss boarded 
the plane. I’m pretty sure he didn’t see me as I generously switched my 
aisle seat with the person in the middle. Back in the day, airlines would 
give out blankets, I used mine as camouflage for the next four hours.

While visiting the managed chaos of Times Square in Manhattan, of the 
tens of thousands of pedestrians streaming on the avenues, I literally 
bumped into my Ex. This was especially awkward on his part as he was 
my ex-brother-in-law, fortunately for me, no heartstrings were involved. 
He squirmed like a fresh bait worm caught on a rusty fish hook. After a 
few minutes I let him go when the sweat beads were clearly visible on his 
forehead. As I walked towards Nathan's Famous Hot Dogs I thought, take 
that Texas Rangers, I’m batting 1-39!

Dinah Chong Watkins column appears every 1st and 3rd Saturday of the 
month.For more Close Encounters Of The Wrong Kind go to www.ceotwk.
com


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Mountain Views News 80 W Sierra Madre Blvd. No. 327 Sierra Madre, Ca. 91024 Office: 626.355.2737 Fax: 626.609.3285 Email: editor@mtnviewsnews.com Website: www.mtnviewsnews.com