Such a funny word, regular, stemming from the Latin root, regula or ‘rule.’
regular |ˈregyələr; ˈreg(ə)lər|adjective (of a person): doing the same thing or going to the same place with the same time between individual instances.
All I know is that my trip to the donut shop this past Sunday morning (to celebrate donut month) became a significantly richer experience because of two “colorful characters” bantering with the the lady behind the counter as well as my son and I. While the experience emphasized my own lack of ‘regularness’ (being newly transplanted to Nampa, Idaho), it also illustrated the critical need American society has for such irregular regulars.
Stemming from my high school addiction to late-night reruns of Cheers (“Where everybody knows your name”), I’ve always longed for regular status (even while I ‘raged against the machine’). Not necessarily a Cliff or Norm, but someone who could simply nod to the establishment for a quick cup or bowl of ‘the regular.’ Who hasn’t craved such status? (only asocial loners, I assure you.)
Today’s post is intended to encourage all of us apoc-junkies to step back from the brink while time still permits. During apocalypse month The Green Porch has brought the blogosphere many great posts such as: