As I've already modestly reported, I've decided to devote my recent retirement from the newspaper business to helping mankind.
While I don't have enough money to put much of a dent in my fellow citizens' travails, I do have this time-tested brain, which I'm happy to share with anyone who can find a use for it.
Fresh off the triumph of solving the conundrum of how to transfuse the contents of one tube of toothpaste into another, I'm sneaking up on another breakthrough. Unfortunately, in the meantime, a puzzler of some dimension has arisen unsolicited to becloud my own prospects. Here's how it unfolded:
I've been in the habit the past couple of years of going to my neighbor's house to lug her trash can out to the curb on garbage day, once a week. Oh, don't rush to the phone to put me in for some humanitarian award. The trash can has wheels on it, and the distance is all of about 20 feet. It's simply easier for me to consummate this assignment from over at my house than it is for her, particularly in inclement weather, in which we've specialized lately.
One positive outcome of my voluntary carriage service is that I noticed her trash can is way better than mine. In fact, my two trash cans are smaller than hers and are plagued with holes. (I suspect an industrious skunk, but I can't prove it.) My neighbor's one trash can is far better suited for the job than two of my own.
The truth is that she went away for a couple of months this winter, and (I'd prefer you not mention this next part to her, if you don't mind) I took her trash can for a series of test runs in my own driveway. I fell in love with it.