Dump! (Freewrite)

The word “dump” is a funny word for me, and despite being four letters, it has no negative connotation in terms of being a curse word. However, it has several meanings for me, and I also wanted to dump some other random thoughts that have been coming out of my head lately. Afterall, I have chosen to make this a Freewrite. (Thus, remember to accept any spelling and spacing errors,  as I will not be using the BACKSPACE key this time!

The word “dump” means to discard, throw away, or get rid of, in various manners. One of my favorite uses of the word is referring to the recycling area. In Lincoln, my family would often take our recyclables to the site at 70/A Street and try to do them in a fast rate. After timing it once, we tried to teat that time and get rewwarded with ice cream. But, the ice cream promise never materialized–go figure!

In addition to being called “the dump”, we furthered this theme by singing “To the dump” in the style of William Tell Overture on our way there. Because who doesn’t have fun adding words to wordless melodies?

Another version of the word “dump” thatt I have seen was at WNUR’s OACR. That is, the studio (the on-air control room, to be precise). On the big transmission machine, there is a yellow button that says “DUMP,” which can be used to delete something that was just said (after ll, there IS a delay between when a person speaks and when it is broadcast on the radio.) I think that the most frequent use of the DUMP button is when a Four-Letter Word is unleashed… in unscripted programming.

It could also be used to mask coughing, but I think that coughing is more of a natural pause than worrying about @*$&%! (Oh, and thinking about that brings up another thing in my mind: a few weeks ago, I was bowling  with a friend, and on the kepboard, one of the buttons was “?!$@” which is  probably intended to be a catch-all special character key. But I joked that it was the button thatsomeone preses after throwing a gutter ball.

While I am rambling and unloading these thoughts  from my mind, I noticed that in this previous paragraph, my typing 2was not particulalry coherent, nor  it it clear that I am very cautious when  typing. Pleas let me know in the comments if I should rethink the iddea  of not using the BACKSPACE key. It probably doesn’t help that my keyboard tends to be a little bick finicky anyway. But this  is the idea of contet  clues!

Another iea which has been on my head lately, and I wanted to get out. This idea may appear in a post on its own in thenear future, but for now I am just dumping it here. When you are stopped ata red light, do you ever look left and right to see the satus of the crosswalk light, and or gain anticipation when the light in the other direction turns yellow?

Another use of the word “dump” that I like, based on the definition of “discard” that I used earlier, is  in bridge. When you can’t follow to the led suit, you may either discard a card of another suit, or if you have any trumps in your hand, you may play a turmp (also called ruffing.) If both hands on a side are out o the led suit, and both also have a trump card in hand, one hand gets to dscard a loser, and the other hand gets to ruff. This is officially called “ruff and discard,” but in the bridge vernacular, it is alsocalled “ruff-and-sluff.” However, I sort of like the rhyme of “Trump-And-Dump” instead.

I am  aware that there is another use for “dump” that has to do with natural processses, but because that is beyond the scope of what I am comfortable discussing, I will just dump that idea and move on to whatever else is swimming around in my head. after all (looks at watch), I still have only 140 seconds left to write.

140 seconds, eh? There will probabbly be more than a character per seocnd, so that the end of this post will fail to fit on Twitter. BUt, there will be the summary of this post. What else should  I write about before time runs out? I don’t know, and I am surprised that this rambling is just going on. When you are just using word association,  it can be nothingness, and trun into  streams of consciousness. At leats I am not William Faulkner, with his novel that “vanquished” me.

Whoops there goes the closet door which always becomes unhinged in my apartment. My time is almost up, and then I have to go  downstairs and fold  laundry, before a tirpleheader of League, Aspie Dinner, and Bridge Club. Sunday is a Funday like…



היום שמונה ימים–שהם שבוע אחד ויום אחד לעומר

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