More rain today, and the grass seems glad. Probably not enough to save the beleaguered Illinois corn crop, but at least such a drought won’t trigger a pre-modern sort of famine downstate. Unless Gaia really has it in for us this time, in which case, What Me Worry?
Went on the semi-monthly McDonald’s expedition today. On the Happy Meal bag, I noticed this expression of juvenile excitement: “I got a head rush!” I think that bon mot went with a picture of a girl doing some sort of athletic something not usually associated with McDonald’s.
I got a head rush? Well, maybe that phrase has traveled far since the late 1970s, down more innocent paths. Maybe the copywriter didn’t know its older connotations, unapproved since the time of Nancy Reagan: more than merely high, it involved sensations specific to standing up suddenly. At least, that was my understanding; I didn’t take a linguistic survey of my freshman dorm.
Or maybe the copywriter did understand, and giggled at the thought of putting it on a children’s bag. Giggled like he was feeling a head rush.