We are all familiar with coming attractions. We take a seat in the theater, munch on some popcorn, slurp a soda large enough to do laps in, and watch one coming attraction after another. At times we wonder whether there will even be a feature film because the coming attractions seem endless.
They do serve a purpose, though. If the coming attraction is good, it whets our appetite, and we vow to come back to see the film and to eat more popcorn and to slurp more soda. If the coming attraction is not so good, we try to avoid the film at all costs.
Since I have many columns already written and waiting in the so-called can, I thought I might do my own version of coming attractions and hopefully whet your appetite by presenting short summaries of what is to come. So here goes!
CILANTRO—I would rather throw it on the floor than eat this soap-tasting herb.
PIE FINGERING—I don’t understand why our councilman Lou La Monte is sticking his fingers into pies.
DYING WITH YOUR BOOTS ON—I do not wish to die wearing any footwear.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME—I explore my first 75 years and look forward to the next 75 years.
NOISY COYOTES—They obviously don’t want me to sleep.
GOOD LUCK/BAD LUCK—I compare the extraordinary good luck of my dad with my own terrible bad luck.
A SLOW LEARNER—I prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am often the last person to figure things out.
NO MORE KITCHENS—I predict kitchens are quickly becoming a thing of the past.
BUCKET LIST—I make it clear I have no bucket list and have no intention of making one.
BREAKFAST ADDICTION—I suffer from a terribly expensive addiction.
IT SURE BEATS THE ALTERNATIVE—I am still trying to figure out what is the right thing to say and when to say it.
ROUGH NIGHT—Something strange is happening while I sleep.
ROSE ROSS—My poor mother had to put up with a most difficult younger son—me.
BRAIN ENHANCEMENT—I certainly need to enhance my brain and the jelly fish is not helping.
MISSION IMPOSSIBLE—Finding where to watch a program can be an impossible undertaking.
I hope your appetite has been sufficiently whetted, that you cannot wait until Thursdays for The Malibu Times to come out in print, and that you enjoy reading these columns half as much as I enjoy writing them.