Feeling fried? Perk up with Doughnut Day

Doughnut Dollie

(Public Domain)

Don’t let your coffee be lonely: It’s National Doughnut Day.

The first Friday in June is wholly designated in homage to the power of doughnuts. You might think the observance was cooked up as a modern marvel, but it wasn’t: Doughnut Day has been around since June 1938. Folks were still tangling with the Great Depression, and doughnut makers brightened their day with a freebie.

The day recalls a string of events that began during World War I when a military doctor brought doughnuts to wounded soldiers. One of the beneficiaries of this largesse liked the gesture so much, he proposed raising funds to give a doughnut to every wounded soldier. The Salvation Army got involved, then afterward began stocking its overseas canteens, or “huts,” with freshly fried doughnuts. It held the first stateside civilian Doughnut Day as a fund-raiser in Chicago.

In 1938, of course, the future still held many military Doughnut Days to come.

Today as a civilian, you can collect a free doughnut at Dunkin Donuts, Krispy Kreme, Tim Hortons and numerous other purveyors of fried dough. Mind your manners, though — collect them all, and you’ll begin to resemble a doughnut. Just one is enough as a sweet taste of thoughtfulness and generosity during hard times.

Red, white and blue all over

Don’t ask me who won the California primary elections Tuesday. I’m on only my first cup of coffee.

Yesterday, politics was none of my business. I was a first-time election clerk, sworn Election worker-1 to uphold the Constitutions of the United States and California, bound by law to keep ballots secret and safe and bound by rule not to discuss candidates, political parties, surveys or any of the other topics that fuel front-porch bickering as the big day nears.

I was one of a staff of five, each with specific duties. If you voted on the mountain, it could have been me who set up your voting booth at 6 a.m., who tore the ballot off the ballot pad and wrapped it in a privacy sleeve for you, then helped to secure the voting materials after 8 p.m., when polling places closed.

It’s a small mountain: Stick around long enough, and you realize that everybody knows half of everybody else. Yesterday, we had to be reminded that it wasn’t enough to recognize the person coming through the door; voters officially have to state their first and last names and their street addresses before voting. One of the county’s official poll observers scribbled furiously on a clipboard whenever that was followed by things like “How’s your mom doing?” and “I heard your More

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