So I just returned from the doctor's office where I had this thing taken off the end of my nose that has been growing unattractively there for awhile. The doctor kept referring to it as "a horn," which did not make me feel any better about my appearance. How would you feel if you'd been wandering around Salt Lake with a horn growing out of the end of your nose?
ANSWER: Not cute.
Anyway, while I was sitting in the waiting room, I heard a man say to his wife, "corn and tomatoes and peaches." So naturally I was interested. In fact, he had me at "corn." Which rhymes with "horn." Which I was growing until the doctor removed it.
I looked over at him and realized he was reading the Trib. A column in the Trib. MY column in the Trib. He was reading it to his wife and I was sitting right there and they didn't even know it because no doubt the nasal horn rendered me temporarily unrecognizable.
But here's the thing. They were smiling.
Not a big deal, really. But it pleased me.
This week's column . . .