More Ramblings

Folks, it’s time for another of my rambling columns. This is where I put in my two cents worth (as if I even get paid that much) on a variety of mostly non-related topics. Sit back, fasten your seat belts, and enjoy the ride.
The Sacred Cow
I was in the grocery store the other day and came close to having a heart attack. Have you seen the price of meat? It gives new meaning to the term “sacred cow.” I told my wife that road kill will soon be on the menu. And with the ever-increasing cost of electricity from SCE&G, I’ll save even more money by cooking the possum, armadillo, or whatever on my truck’s engine block on the way home. It’s referred to as Car-B-Que in my social circle.
If the Shoe Doesn’t Fit
Speaking of things seen along the roadside, have you ever seen a discarded shoe? I don’t mean a pair of shoes, I mean just one. I cannot recall ever seeing a matching pair. This mystery has puzzled me for some time. Surely someone would notice their newly acquired lopsided gait. Perhaps the one shoe did not fit and the person decided not to wear it.
Sorry, You’re a Loser
I have nothing against the state lottery or those who play it. However, it’s annoying to be standing in line at a gas station waiting for the person at the counter to decide on which game to play. Additionally, the machine that scans the submitted ticket could use an upgrade. Must we have to listen to “Congratulations- you’re a winner!” every time someone beats the odds and actually gets a return on his or her money? I would like to hear, “Sorry, you’re a loser” when a non-winner is produced for verification.
Putting the Low in Lowcountry
This area is called the “Lowcountry” for a good reason — parts of it are below, just about, or just above sea level. We all know downtown floods whenever it rains more than one quarter of an inch. But the new construction on Bee’s Ferry has also caused parts of it to be underwater during a rain shower. This did not used to happen. I hope the problem corrects itself once the last orange and white traffic cone is removed. If not, maybe we should try to resurrect old Mr. Bee and his transport barge to carry us from Highway 61 to Savannah Highway.
The Telepathic Turn Signal
We, as a whole, have allowed ourselves to be duped for some time now. If appliance manufacturers can get away with selling dryers without cords and some new pickup trucks do not come with tailgates, I wonder if steering wheels will be optional in the future? It appears to me that turn signals have already hit this threshold. I’ve noticed that it seems that drivers of newer vehicles must use telepathy to alert us of lane changes. Maybe drivers of older cars can less likely afford repair bills. Falling into the latter category, I guess I will have to remove my tin foil helmet the next time I go for a spin. I’ll take alien mind control over a repair bill any day..
James David Altman lives in West Ashley and has been a contributing columnist for several publications. He’s the son of the late former S.C. Republican House of Representative of John Graham Altman III. You can reach him at rabidreb@gmail.com.