This is a little reminiscent of the film “The Producer” with Zero Mostel and Gene Wilder. At one point, Wilder goes berserk with total frustration and jumps on Mostel’s back, yelling various forms of the word FAT.

That rant didn’t help. I need to just go around repeating this post title over and over and over again until I am hoarse. That sort of helps. There is something comforting about repetition, and not just in venting emotion. I think Sesame Street started it for me: The guys would sing “On Wisconsin” but replacing every syllable with “street.” Try it; I started doing it 49 years ago and I still do it. I’ve even branched out to using some designated word to replace a lot of the words in other songs.

We were streeting along on streetlight bay . . .

Time to move on. But NOT into the kitchen.