sometimes its a problem

Ting's partner Dave finds 4-leaf clovers all the time. It's ridiculous. They stick out, he says. They look different, he says. He sees them, without looking for them, while we are walking anywhere.

Recently we were telling some friends about Dave's quirk/talent as we all drove to one of those fabulous farm dinners Connecticut has in late summer. We pulled the car into the makeshift parking lot -- a clover field adjacent to a hill of clover, overlooking another rolling field of clover. Dave hopped out of the minivan and said, "here's one," and plucked a four-leaf clover out of the clovery ground. He can't help it.

I'm like that with typos. They stick out. I can be reading a wonderful book written by a wonderful and knowledgeable nutritionist, say, and then...and then, he or she says "if the body has inadequate nutrients, it will produce odd carvings..." and suddenly everything is in doubt. Oh, I know what they meant. Of course! Of course. But it's like finding a gnat in your soup. You know there's no harm done, but all you can think about is the gnat, and you begin to doubt the whole enterprise of your lunch.

Maybe we all have something like this. For Dave, it's 4-leaf clovers. For Laura, it's the tiniest editing glitch in a movie, like the door was open at a different angle just a moment ago. We have spent many hours rewinding and replaying videos so she can show us that the mug was in fact full a second ago and now it's empty.

For me (and for Ting -- likely a matter of both nature and nurture), it's typos. Seeing them while not looking for them is distracting, and sometimes I wish I didn't notice them. I see gnats.

Tonight I'm trying to find a restaurant in Manchester, New Hampshire, where my mother-in-law might take her friends that are driving through. She's not one to google things herself, but has learned that it is possible. Asking me to google something is like asking a bloodhound to follow the scent on the old shirt. Go find her, girl. Go find Emmy Lou. Awooooo! I'm off.

But it's a tough call. Do I really want to send my mother-in-law to the place with the "chick atmosphere"? Or how about the one that says patrons can "Thrill to memorizing music all night long." That sounds absolutely exhausting to me, no matter how good the music might actually be.

In our town there is a dog grooming place called "Bow's and Bandana's," and I still wince as I drive by. We take 16-year-old Bear there every so often so someone else can shave around his bumpy little body. I knew it might not be the right thing to do to say anything, but when you have an Issue with correctness in language, you think people might want to know, because you would. When I've made a typo in this blog, Ting catches it immediately and I'm always immensely grateful. I would like to know when there is toilet paper stuck to my blog's shoe. But the people at Bow's and Bandana's? Really not an issue for them.

I am torn between admiring that quality and thinking that the sky is falling. Do you know how painful it is for me to leave the title of this post as it is?