" ... If a man finds himself car-less and clueless in a full parking lot, whatever he does, he cannot look like it.  He will hike the perimeter, maintaining a purposeful stride, refining his search into concentric, narrowing paths until said vehicle is discovered.  Or, he will assume it’s been towed or stolen.  Or, he will convince himself he’s prematurely inherited grandpa’s dementia, and when all this is over, he’s checking in for that brain scan.  Or, all of the above.

          A woman will not care if anyone notices she is obviously sans automobile and in search of same; she in fact will make a show of her haplessness, hoping inquiries will be made to this effect, thus forming impromptu marathon support groups for the dispossessed near the handicapped space starting line.

          I know a woman who did this once, and right away met another accidentally-pedestrian female and they both went off in search of each other’s cars, each one ultimately finding the other’s.

          This last time though, she did the supremely logical thing:  It was late in the day, so she went to a nearby restaurant, sat in a booth facing the parking lot --- and waited for everyone else to drive away.

          High and lo and behold, her car eventually materialized.

          Now --- where did I put those keys?

          Better check the refrigerator .... "

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Born on Halloween, 1924.

  Died too soon, 1972.

  Thank you for my male pattern baldness, my sense of humor, and my balls.  Spook softly, Dad.