“If a rooster crows three times on the tail of a beaver, don’t take a bath.”

That was advice that a guy named Vern told my buddy Dave and me when we were in middle school. It seemed reasonable at the time. In fact, I still find times to use that memorable quote…  like right now.

I thought of Vern and his words of wisdom after reading an article from a few years back on The Guardian websiteabout the “world’s dirtiest man.” Now, I realize your brain may have just taken you in another direction, but this story is truly about a man who had not bathed for 60 years. His name was Amou Haji, and he resided in the village of Dejgah in the southern province of Fars.

Haji was a 94-year-old Iranian hermit who, maybe not surprisingly, also ate roadkill and smoked a pipe filled with animal excrement, according to the story.

A photo of Haji shows him covered in soot, and the story states that he lived in a cinder-block shack. The villagers said Haji experienced “emotional setbacks in his youth” that led him to the lifestyle of abstaining from showering or bathing. Haji said he believed that cleanliness would make him ill.

The villagers apparently persuaded Haji to wash for the first time — and then he died. Not immediately, but he did pass away just a few months after cleaning up.

Now I don’t know if a beaver was anywhere close, or if a rooster was crowing or not, but I do think it was a mistake for Haji to bathe. I know that sounds odd in our world of obsessive hand washing and sanitizing, but if he lived to be 94 and spent the last 60 years avoiding soap and water, well, maybe he knew something we still don’t. 

As far as eating roadkill and smoking a pipe filled with animal excrement, I am going to just assume those were coincidences. 

Have a terrific Tuesday, and thanks for reading.

Shane Goodman
Editor and Publisher
Times Vedette digital editions
shane@gctimesnews.com
641-332-2707

Cooler temperatures are on their way starting next week, and that means one thing for me: flannel. 

Yes, my inner-Elmer-Fudd will come out as I don my favorite flannel shirts once again, only to be way too warm for a few more weeks. This is that awkward time of year in Iowa when the furnace is on in the morning and the AC in the afternoon. I will take it, though, as we all know what the weeks ahead will bring — and that brings me back to flannel. 

The origin of flannel can be traced back to 16^th-century Wales, according to popular flannel-seller and one of my favorite clothing catalog publishers, Lands’ End. The early version of flannel was a “warmer and sturdier alternative to the wool garments that they wore at the time.

The same information says flannel made its way to France and Germany throughout the 17th and 18th centuries until finally showing up in the United States during the Industrial Revolution in 1869. We Americans are seemingly always late to the party — but we look good. 

The expanding railway system apparently created a need for shirts made of a worthy fabric “for the harsh working conditions and long hours of the American laborer.” By the early 20th century, the logging, railroad and construction industries dominated the workforce in America. As such, men’s flannel shirts became synonymous with blue-collar workers.

By 1950, flannel shirts were “the working man’s shirt and considered a symbol of American hardworking ruggedness, which was only illustrated further by the introduction of the fictional character of Paul Bunyan.” And let’s not forget Elmer Fudd, who first graced cartoons in 1937.   

Flannel found a newfound popularity in the 1990s with the grunge scene, led by bands Nirvana and Pearl Jam. As the grunge look faded, the hipster movement with “its earthy and artisanal feel” discovered flannel, too. 

I wasn’t into the grunge scene, and I am certainly not a hipster, but I do appreciate the warmth of flannel in Iowa’s fall and winter seasons. Flannel shirts. Flannel-lined pants. Flannel sheets. Flannel-lined slippers. I can’t get enough flannel.

Lands’ End says the future of flannel is “looking soft and cozy,” and that sounds wonderful to me — as long as it’s not 80 degrees in October. 

Have a fantastic Friday, and thanks for reading.

Shane Goodman
Editor and Publisher
Times Vedette digital editions
shane@gctimesnews.com
641-332-2707

Take it easy. That phrase became common in the 1970s with the Eagles hit song of the same name. Jackson Browne co-wrote the lyrics in 1972 with Glenn Frey and put Winslow, Arizona, on the map. But what exactly does it mean to “take it easy”?

Lionel Ritchie told us he was “easy like Sunday morning” in the Commodores’ 1977 ballad. I don’t know about you, but Sunday mornings were not always easy for me. Trying to get three daughters out of bed and ready for church was a time challenge each week in my younger years. After the service — and during times when our business needed each and every dollar to survive — the whole family pitched in to help clean our office. Our youngest daughter, Abby, was eager to help and would crawl underneath the work stations and move wires aside while I vacuumed. The system worked well, until I caught her hair in the vacuum rollers. That Sunday morning, particularly, was not easy. 

Easy as pie. This phrase is used to describe the simpleness of a task. Obviously, the person who came up with this never attempted to bake a pie. Pie is not easy. Ice cream is easy. Unfold the carton. Scoop. Eat. It doesn’t get much easier — unless the carton was edible, which isn’t a bad idea. 

Easy on the eyes is a phrase used to describe someone who is attractive. Now, let’s be honest. If we saw someone strikingly beautiful, we would likely look twice or focus more, which certainly would not be easy on the eyes. Something or someone bland or hardly noticeable would be easy on the eyes. 

Easy come, easy go. This one I agree with, as most things in life that come along easily are also lost easily. The most meaningful things usually take a great deal of ongoing work, and then we hold them dearly.

Meanwhile, Jackson Browne may have been onto something about taking advantage of every moment when he wrote, “We may lose or we may win, but we will never be here again.”

Have a terrific Tuesday, and thanks for reading.

Shane Goodman
Editor and Publisher
Times Vedette digital editions
shane@gctimesnews.com
641-332-2707

“Oh, what a beautiful mornin’, oh, what a beautiful day. I’ve got a wonderful feeling, everything’s going my way.”

My friend Jim brightened my morning by singing that song during a vacation our families spent together a few years ago. I told him I loved his attitude. His son, Jack, gave me an eye roll and said his dad sings that song every morning. And why not? 

Some of you know that “Oh, what a beautiful mornin’ ” is the opening song for the “Oklahoma!” musical and premiered on Broadway in 1943. It was written by Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II and sung in the original musical by Curly McLain. Personally, I prefer my friend Jim’s take. Regardless, you are likely going to struggle to get any version of this song out of your head for the remainder of the day — and that’s a good thing. 

One of my original goals in creating this Times Vedette newsletter was to bring a smile to the faces of our readers. Meanwhile, I receive orders from a handful of you telling me I need to tackle contentious subjects locally and from around the world. Sometimes I do, but more often than not, I simply want to make you smile by sharing something other than wars, assassinations, and the general hatred that is spewed on social media. There is enough anger and division in the world today, and you have hundreds of “news” sources to find that. We might all do better by listening to the words of author and motivational speaker Zig Ziglar: “A positive attitude will have positive results because attitudes are contagious.”  

How about you? Do you have a song, phrase, prayer or meditation that starts your day off right?  I hope you do and that you will join my friend Jim and me and try to have a beautiful morning every morning. I have a wonderful feeling that everything will go your way. 

Have a fantastic Friday, and thanks for reading.

Shane Goodman
Editor and Publisher
Times Vedette digital editions
shane@gctimesnews.com
641-332-2707

Jim Croce asked for help from a telephone operator to place a call in his 1972 hit song “Operator (That’s Not the Way It Feels).” And in 1972, using a telephone operator for assistance was common. But what about today? When was the last time you spoke with an operator? Even the term operator seems antiquated now. Sounds more like a surgeon. 

Do you remember when 1-800 numbers became mainstream? They launched in 1967 with a goal to cut down on labor-intensive collect calls that often required live operators. By the 1980s, every company seemingly had a 1-800 number, and my childhood buddies and I enjoyed dialing as many of them as we possibly could. We spent countless hours searching for and calling the 1-800 numbers on household products and telling the company representatives that we were doing a science fair project and were wondering if they would send us some free samples. We then provided our fellow-jokester-friend Dave’s name and address. His parents’ mailbox overflowed with samples and promotional materials every day, leaving his mother to wonder what in the world was going on. I can’t remember my own zip code today, but I can tell you Dave’s exact and complete home mailing address. 

The practical jokes intensified. Most every TV infomercial back then had a heavily promoted 1-800 number to call and order products and have them shipped COD (cash on delivery). No pre-payment or credit cards were required, and there was no ability (that we knew of then) to track where the orders came from. So, the orders to Dave’s home started. Ginsu knives. Armourcote pots and pans. The Pocket Fisherman. Chia Pet. Mr. Microphone. But wait, there’s more. The Egg Scrambler. Time Life books. The Abdominizer. The Thighmaster. And a wide assortment of feminine hygiene products, gold coin collections and K-tel Records. We thought it was funny. Dave’s mother didn’t. 

I realize now that ordering these types of products under another person’s name is illegal, immoral and some other things that start with an “i.” I am also not sure if a statute of limitations applies, so let me be clear: I was appalled that my friends Ian, Tommy and Mark would engage in such activity.

With that in mind, I close this column with the words of Jim Croce: “Oh, operator, let’s forget about this call. There’s no one there I really wanted to talk to. Thank you for your time. Oh, you’ve been so much more than kind. You can keep the dime.”

Have a terrific Tuesday, and thanks for reading.

Shane Goodman
Editor and Publisher
Times Vedette digital editions
shane@gctimesnews.com
641-332-2707

Those of you who were — and maybe still are — regular viewers of the popular TV comedy series “Seinfeld” may recall the episode that included George Costanza’s stuffed (and eventually exploded) wallet.

That was season 9, episode 12, when George was toting around a wallet so thick it was causing him back pain. It was crammed with things he deemed important including old receipts, Irish money and Sweet ’N Low packets. Can you relate? 

Meanwhile, I am amazed how many men today don’t even own a wallet. Since they don’t use cash, they don’t see a need to carry anything other than a credit/debit card and a driver’s license. Everything else is stored in their phones. Not me. I counted 14 cards in my wallet ranging from credit cards to my driver’s license to my health insurance cards to a COVID vaccination card. I wish I could tell you my wallet is also stuffed full of cash, but that’s not the case. Sometimes a bunch of $1 bills feels like a lot of money, but then George Washington’s recurring mug appears as I thumb through the bills. Sigh.

My wallet isn’t just for cash and cards, though. I, much like George Costanza, also keep receipts in my wallet, at least until the credit card statement shows up and I can match them up — or until the Costanza crunch happens. 

You may have heard the phrase “as comfortable as an old shoe.” Well, old wallets are comfortable, too. That’s why those of us who use them dread buying new ones. Fortunately, a good leather wallet can last for years. 

I don’t believe I have ever asked anyone to search for something in my wallet, although my daughters discovered some cash there in their youth. My wife often asks me to find items in her purse. It’s a tedious task that usually ends up with me frustrated and dumping the contents of her purse onto the table. Jolene then gets frustrated and bumps me alongside the head. On a rare occasion, I actually find the item she asked me to locate, but, more often than not, I end up empty handed. There are a lot of pockets, zippers and compartments in purses. Too many.

I often say the human brain can only hold so much information, but the same is true for a purse. And, unfortunately, that goes for a wallet, too. George Costanza proved it. 

Have a fantastic Friday, and thanks for reading.

Shane Goodman
Editor and Publisher
Times Vedette digital editions
shane@gctimesnews.com
641-332-2707