My wife and I are sitting here having coffee early this fine November morning and listening to the sound of our neighbor Bill putting the garbage out for tomorrow’s collection. Bill is always the first person on the street to get the garbage out. He gets it out a full 24 hours before the garbage men actually come to get it, despite the fact that you’re not supposed to put your garbage out until the evening before collection.
In a moment of utter boredom this morning, I was contemplating my navel lint. Every evening, after a day of wearing one shirt or another, I manage to accumulate a certain amount of lint in my navel. I know it comes from the shirt I’m wearing, as it is inevitibly the color of the current day’s shirt. The big question is why don’t all my shirts have a little hole wear my navel lies.