By Stan Bargmeyer, lifelong Coma resident and intern for Coma News Daily

There’s a real epidemic going on in Coma and I can not, for the life of me, get a handle on it.

Many people seem unable to figure out handles, or specifically, how to properly use them.

They’re called handles, which implies that hands should be used to manipulate them. However, these days I see people use every part of their bodies but their hands to open doors around town.

And don’t even get me started on teenagers using their feet to kick doors open. They’re not called foot-les!

I’m not the only one who’s perplexed about our town’s misuse of handles.

Eric Murphy wrote me after my last column on handle-related concerns to note that if he has things in his hands he sometimes uses his rear end — “whether it’s a push or pull door.”

Well, I don’t even know where to start with that.

Maggie Goldman of Coma’s Tara neighborhood wrote me that sometimes she tries to open both double doors with a “scissor kick.”

To which I ask, ‘Are we people or are we ninjas?’

Maybe the answer lies in more of us getting the door for our fellow Comatons. If you see someone who needs a hand, help them out.

Maybe this way we’ll all get a “handle” on neighborliness, together.

Follow

Share on Tumblr

comments feed

Bob Smith-Smith, writes Opinions for Coma New Daily that focus on Baby Boomer parenting of children with a focus on 35 year olds who still live at home. Bob Smith-Smith is a former councilman and also runs Bob’s Mart which specializes in employing his current and ex wife as well as providing artisanal food such as foraged leaves for Coma residents. The views expressed do not reflect the views of Coma News Daily.

I have slowly started to relax after Jon’s near-death experience.

My 35-year-old son, who we’re blessed to have living in our basement, fell prey to a mysterious illness about a month ago, its cause I’ll likely never know.

But whatever Jon ate or otherwise was exposed to made him so sick he couldn’t really stomach food, and what little he ate was due to my insistent pestering and sometimes forcing his fastidious nature by wiping baby food on the sides of his mouth to annoy him enough so he would clean it off with his tongue.

It was a difficult three days. I spent as much time as I could letting Jon curl up on my lap and stroking his long locks or scratching his beard. My independent little boy sought out the attention, too.

Slowly but surely, Jon regained his strength.

It took a long time before he spoke, though, and the house didn’t sound right without his grumpy-old-man mumblings or his morning belch-bellows.

I wondered how long it would take before his voice returned to the cacophony of the house.

Then one day, I sneezed. And Jon yelled at me for it. That’s when I knew he was back. For reasons unbeknownst to me, he hates sneezes. Maybe it’s the sudden, unexpected nature of the noise that bothers him. Who knows?

One thing that has changed is Jon’s appetite.

He’s always enjoyed food, but now he becomes so impatient for me to bring fresh food down to his “apartment” every morning that he has started using a broom handle to hit the kitchen floor from underneath.

It makes sense. After all, he was so sick that he couldn’t stomach much of anything.

For a young man to be unable to eat, even for a day, is bad news. Children–even adult children–can starve to death in a matter of two to three days and even faster if they are sick.

It seems as though the experience has left Jon with a new appreciation of food. He has always been large for his height. More than one doctor has looked at him and told me he needs to go on a diet, only to weigh him and find he is in an acceptable range. I’ve even called him “chunky monkey.” But only once.

He’s never had a weight problem, but I wonder with his voracious appetite if that will remain the case. But, for now, I’m just happy he is eating.

And a tiny part of me misses the cuddle bug he briefly turned into. Just a tiny part.

He’s always been an independent boy while living in my basement.

But I’ll gladly take the son who is running around the house, “yelling” at his younger siblings, stealing my food, and constantly burning incense.

Follow

Share on Tumblr

comments feed

By Thomas Steven John

We’ve been thinking about buzzards all week. No not the adorable Coma Youth baseball team, but our majestic winged friends that live off the flesh of dead animals.

Specifically, we’re thinking about the town’s latest construction site located so close to the nest of two of the birds.

It is worth noting that state wildlife officials have said the work is not disturbing the birds, which seem intent on protecting their egg and an adjacent McDonald’s dumpster.

Coma News Daily journalists have thoroughly inspected the egg and found no damage (a second egg we accidently dropped into the dumpster was likely unfertilized).

So after some thought and debate, we don’t see any reason why construction should be held up until the baby buzzard (let’s call him Buzzby) has hatched and left his nest later in the summer.

But Coma is a small town full of people who pay attention, talk, dream about flying, and vote.

Moving forward with construction for the sake of efficiency doesn’t seem worth the risk to the town’s reputation or ruffling the feathers of powerful bird watching activists.

On the other hand, town leaders shouldn’t let their constituents’ enjoyment of a new nature center be delayed for months to satisfy the whims of one powerful faction.

On the other, other hand, as journalists, we often help fan the flames of such controversies and will most certainly do so in this case.

So we conclude that the town would be better off delaying the multimillion dollar project but we really, really hope they do not. If not for the sake of Buzzby, then for our otherwise boring editorials.

Follow

Share on Tumblr

comments feed

Editors’ note: The following is the opinion of a Coma resident and does not reflect the views of Coma News Daily.

Bob Smith-Smith
A growing number of people have approached me in recent weeks with some version of “Bob, how does an old dog like you reach these crazy young people today?”

It’s honestly a question I’ve struggled with since my establishment, Bob’s Mart, recently moved to only employ Millenial cashiers.

The answer is as simple as it is complex. As a proud lifelong member of the “Baby Boom” generation responsible for things like bra burning, medical advances that allow seeming immortality, and never-ending rules to try to keep the knuckleheads of this town from hurting themselves, I’ve realized some hard truths. For instance, our never-ending desire to work may have cost countless marriages and led innumerable children to grow up without parents but the flip side is we have so much professional know-how to share and have gathered the retirement savings necessary when you live forever.

This personal drive to contribute has other dark sides, like keeping boomers from seeing when we’re not wanted or needed. Case in point, my first wife, Allie, who started the business with me won’t accept that its time for her to retire and make room for my new wife Claudia, who is 24 and recently gave birth to my 7th child, Hector.

I’m so proud of Claudia but she’s a great example of a younger generation that appears more comfortable in social media than in a “bor-ring” job.

Answer: Make them work together. There’s nothing like close, interpersonal interaction to help people realize their potential.

I’ll admit it’s been slow going and the main subject of communication between my two star employees appears to be sharing the things that annoy me, but hope springs eternal that a young supple worker bee will soon find her job groove while the other will soon buzz off for good.

So stop by Bob’s Mart, where the air may be full of my dirty laundry but your cart will be full of savings.

Follow

Share on Tumblr

comments feed

Natalie Peters
Good morning Coma!

Happy Valentine’s Day or how about happy Heart to Heart month helping families secure needed music. The wonderful folks in Coma’s own Save the World band need your help in their preparation for next season (full disclosure: I’m a member!). We  need muscles to help us reorganize the warehouse where we store instruments, costumes, stage props, wind and smoke machines, as well hold an occasional practice.

Volunteers are needed every Saturday in February from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m. Duties include taking items off shelves, moving shelves to new locations and searching for rodent infestations.
Volunteers should be able to lift up to 25 pounds and not be over-awed by proximity to our town’s leading entertainers (and politicians).
Groups are welcome–but no one from A Home for Those Guys, please!

Here are some other volunteer opportunities:

* Tiny House for Humanity needs volunteers to make both minor and critical repairs for families so they can continue to live with dignity in our 120 sq. ft.-homes. Please visit their website at www.tinypaupers.org for all the info and to sign up for a specific project.

* AARP Coma needs volunteers to lead workshops to help individuals fully enjoy life after 50. Old age is no reason for these valuable members of our community to stop marrying people 25 years younger and starting new families. You can learn more at aarp.org/needamericanhusbands. They also need volunteers for their Stop Giving Your Social Security Number to Every Stranger Who Calls program.

* Fancy Cats Rescue Team needs volunteers age 19 and up to work at adoption events throughout Coma.
Come help give these abandoned long hair kitties the titles and resplendent nom de plums that they so richly deserve. Email info@fancycats.org.

Follow

Share on Tumblr

comments feed

The following is the opinion of a local resident provided as a community service by Coma News. The opinions expressed are not necessarily the opinions of Coma News Daily.

Stan Bargmeyer, Retired Widower and Coma News Intern

Contrary to my expectations, I have found that if you practice hard enough, cartoons aren’t so scary. When I was little I saw illustrations of a ghost in a cartoon and it terrified me.

Santa was not hurt in the creation of this cartoon.

I told my friend Bob Smith-Smith about some of the scary cartoons while we ate some sausage and grits at Bobby’s Diner in Coma. Bob told me that there are cartoons about fat cats, ones that make fun politicians and that there’s nothing bad that happens when you read them because cartoons aren’t real.
It also feels scary when I see that boy in Calvin and Hobbs ride his sled off a cliff with his pet tiger. But thanks to Bob I now know no child was injured in the making of that cartoon. “Cartoons aren’t real. It’s just a pencil on paper. Bad people are real but cartoons and illustrations are not.”

Even though Dinosaurs are scary they were apparently not at the last supper and did not eat the actual disciples’ faces in this picture.

There was a cartoon I saw that had a cannon ball on a guys head. Now I know that doesn’t mean a man’s head somewhere really blew up.
Even though the people in the cartoons aren’t real, apparently sometimes the points they are making are real. Or funny. Bob says that a lot of cartoons are funny and saying something. I don’t know what that fat cat Garfield  is saying he’s always eating lasagna with that not too smart dog.
But the great thing about cartoons is that with enough practice and the bravery to keep looking at them, you will find cartoons aren’t even scary.

Follow

Share on Tumblr

comments feed