Crazy week filled with inspiration

Wow, what a crazy week.

But you know, sometimes I like the crazy weeks because it gives me so much material to write about. But this week it was almost overload with all the different things I saw. Must be because it’s spring. So as I sat down in front of the computer to bang out another column, the thought hit me, “Why not just spit ‘em all out?” So I offer you the following list of people — some of whom I don’t even know — but I’d like to say, thank you for all the inspiration:

• To the cheapskate lady at our garage sale: After picking out a handful of CDs that were selling for a whopping $1 each, you spotted a brand-new hardbound Dr. Seuss book and asked, “How much?” Apparently, another dollar was all it took to send you over the edge because you proceeded to berate me and my fourth-grade daughter for being “greedy” over the lousy $1 book. You were upset and loudly exclaimed, “Garage sale books are .25 cents!” before literally dropping it where you stood. Wow. All Portia and I could do was look at each other over the show you gave us. Portia rolled her eyes a little and I smiled at her. Apparently, we both failed to obtain a copy of the mandated garage sale prices for items. Heck, I didn’t even know there were “garage sale rules.” And for that, I apologize. But truth be told, I would have let you have it for less if you hadn’t been so darned angry about it. Perhaps I should have let you have it; I think you could use more Dr. Seuss in your life.

• He’s baaaaaaack! Spring sees the return of the birds — the geese, the swans and the loons. As I sat at the light, I saw a familiar loon we all know standing at the corner by the Chevron in Palmer. You know him; the guy who looks like a real-life Prospector doll from “Toy Story 2.” He spends all day holding up an “Impeach Obama” poster, complete with devil’s horns and a Hitler mustache on Obama’s picture. (I locked my doors.) I caught him looking at me, so I looked back and he gave me a thumbs up. Oh dear. I did my best to give a weak smile and gave him a thumbs up back. (I figured it’s probably best to stay on his good side.)

• Driving around, take two: Not too long ago I wrote a column about some of the funny things I see while driving around our fine Valley. But I missed a one. Or at least, it didn’t occur to me until this week. I want to ask why of those of you who make the decision to get into the right lane when you know darn well that lane ends in mere feet. I’m talking about the Palmer-Wasilla Highway where it crosses over Seward Meridian. We’re all at the red light and I see you jump into that right lane, wait for the light to turn green, and then drive through only to hit your turn signal and attempt to shoe-horn your car back into the left lane. Why do you do that? And you’ll do it again when the Palmer-Wasilla dumps us into downtown Palmer. Why are you in that right lane when you know darn well it becomes right-turn-only in a few feet and … yep … there you are again, hitting your left turn signal and jamming your rig back into the left lane. Was the extra .06 seconds of extra time you gained by passing four cars worth it?

• The obnoxious guest who refuses to leave: I anticipate your arrival with less and less enthusiasm every time you come around. But with patience and understanding, I can usually just barely make it without going crazy until it’s time for you to leave. You’re a blowhard, a problem maker and you force me to make excuses with my wife about why you’re tolerable. But not this time. No, this time you truly wore out your welcome because you just stayed and stayed and stayed! You just … wouldn’t … leave. And each time we thought you were getting ready to leave, you ended up staying longer! It drove us batty! You’re not wanted! Leave! Who am I talking about? Why, Old Man Winter of course! At this rate I’ll be poking holes in the ice to go dipnetting in July. As I drove home on Tuesday, I encountered flakes falling hard. There’s a good chance the people around me in traffic thought there was a nut in the Jeep next to them; I was slapping the steering wheel and cursing quite loudly at nobody as I watched them hitting the windshield. Although, in the past day or two, I found out I wasn’t the only one. A co-worker was seen standing in the parking lot violently shaking her fist at the sky.

• There is no finer sandwich shop on the planet: I’ve encountered one too many people recently that either have never heard of Krazy Moose Subs in Wasilla or just haven’t got around to going yet. To which I say; you’re nuts! There are no sandwiches anywhere that can come close to matching them. None. It’s just science that it physically cannot be done. To eat a Krazy Moose sub is to transcend merely eating and discover a new realm of taste bud nirvana.

So there you have it, some of the many silly, random things that popped into my head during the past week. Any one of these items would have been good for a column entirely unto itself, but I thought a potpourri of goofy Ben Compton thoughts would be fun. Have a great weekend!

Ben Compton is a Palmer resident and publishes his column as “Compton’s Corner,” the same title used by his grandmother, Phyllis Compton, a longtime Frontiersman columnist.