Here it is, June of 2010 already. Isn't that crazy?
Hmm, perhaps I shouldn't be so liberal with the use of that word. I mean, most of us toss it around quite inefficiently and honestly, without the compassion and humanity that we need to consider when referencing genuine mental illness.
That said, some things are just ridiculously kooky - as are some people.
For instance, take my neighbor, please.
I digress. My niece and I were going for a 5K run the other day, as we often do, in anticipation of the start of her high school cross country training sessions this summer.
Anyway, as we wound around a street adjacent to my neighborhood and began admiring some of the houses on it, we noticed a woman - let's just call her "Morticia" for the sake of discussion - zipping out of her driveway.
Other than noticing the stark contrast between her cherry black hair and pale complexion, I didn't think much of it.
That is, until she was circling back around and heading - directly for me.
At first I thought, "Oh, she doesn't see me." Within four seconds, it was clear that she not only saw me, she was gunning for me.
"That's right, YOU MOVE!" said Tish, as she Detroit-leaned to her right, nearly clipping my foot in the process.
Flabbergasted, I threw my hands up in the air and said, "Gee, thanks for sharing the road!"
As soon as I heard her brakes squeal, I knew my niece and I were about to enter Kooky Town.
"You got something to say to me?" yelled mad-as-a-hatter Morticia.
"Well, yes, you came awfully close to us," I gently replied.
"Oh, oh, and you think I don't know you were laughing at me in front of my house? And you think I didn't see you giving me the finger?" she shouted as neighbors began to gather their young and their dogs close to them.
I stifled the urge to explain that, on Earth, waving your hands is not an obscene gesture, not to mention the fact that the comments my niece and I were making about her house were, um, complimentary.
"Ma'am," I said, not making any sudden movements, "none of those things happened "
"Oh, so now I'm BLIND?" spat Tish, storming off, presumably back to her planet of origin.
Yikers. Blind? No. Kooky and a little scary? Affirmative on both counts.
But there's plenty of kooky coming from the male persuasion, as well, as evidenced by the gentleman I encountered running through the park last week.
I'm sure we all remember the day on which a tornado came eerily close to touching down in the Mahoning Valley last week - yikers, again.
Anyway, after ensuring that Kyle was safe and sound with my other niece in the basement of our home, I nervously left the gym (where we'd been banned from the machines) and started searching the park for my husband, who was running into a twister, as it happened.
I never found him, though I later learned he was actually driving around looking for me as well. But in the interim, I met a gentleman running against Mother Nature.
"Can I give you a ride to your car?" I said through biting winds and deafening thunder.
"No, thanks," said Kooky Kookerson.
"But there's a tornado coming!" I argued.
Ever the runner, he sheepishly replied, "OK, but no thanks, anyway."
There's a fine line between dedication and complete kooky-dom, people.
Oh, hey, one other example. Did you hear about the couple who got up in the middle of the night to take their daughter to the airport for her early morning flight to Chicago recently?
That's right, my mom and dad got up at 3 a.m. to take me to the airport on Friday, so I could be there well in advance of my 7:25 a.m. boarding call.
Hey, I didn't say all the kooky was bad kooky.
Thanks, Ma and Pop! And chill out, Kookersons.
Kimerer is a Tribune Chronicle columnist. Contact her at firstname.lastname@example.org.