In basic training there was an exercise (i.e. punishment) like that. Lay on your back, arms and legs elevated and stay that way until the drill sergeant got tired. They called it the “Dying Cockroach.”
Never had the desire to smoke weed. Preferred my relaxer neat and single malt. Then again, the barracks hallways in Korea and Germany were s-o-o thick with weed smoke there was probably some residual affect.
My neighbor delivered the San Diego Evening Tribune (late 50s) and I rode with him often enough to know the entire route and subbed for him if he were sick or went on a trip. Learned to fold the paper in on itself so you only needed to use rubber bands for the Sunday paper. A perfect cast would slide up the walk to the front step, and if it landed in the shrubs you’d go back and put it on the front step.
When I was first learning to drive (long, long ago), my mother said to always remember that “Red means ‘Stop.’ Green means ‘Go.’ And yellow means ‘Go like hell.’”
Great image, and I often wondered about that, but all the speeding tickets I’ve gotten in 60 years of driving (five so far for 15mph over the limit) were from highway cops on the ground with speedguns.
Those were great signs. Clever, catchy phrases that took up little space to mar the view yet often provided the best feature on a long, monotonous drive.
My mother’s were better. As for comic strips, I preferred Pogo first, Peanuts, Dick Tracy, Brenda Starr, Fearless Fosdick (strip within a strip), Terry and the Pirates and many others. Even cloying Orphan Annie was preferable to Mary Worthless. But that was from a 6-8-years-old’s perception. Over the years many others have been favored, but Mary never made the cut. Sorry.
In basic training there was an exercise (i.e. punishment) like that. Lay on your back, arms and legs elevated and stay that way until the drill sergeant got tired. They called it the “Dying Cockroach.”