An extra hour in your day? An extra sawbuck in your wallet? Sure, you could fritter them away on a new paperback copy of “To Kill a Mockingbird,” or a nice chef salad. But really, where's the fun in that?

We firmly believe indulgences should be frivolous — little wastages of your hard-earned time and money that have no redeeming value and absolutely no basis at all in prudence. That's why they're indulgent, no?

Whether it's street food, other peoples' intimate online ramblings or an extra helping of salt, here are a few unsung pleasures that help make life just a bit more fun.

For Better or For Worse
“Peanuts” is forever in reruns. “Doonesbury” is hit or miss. Don’t get me started on the horror that is “Family Circus.” The one comic strip that is as vital to my mornings as coffee is Lynn Johnston’s “For Better or For Worse.” Johnson has been telling the story of Canada's Patterson family for decades now, and unlike most strips, she let her characters grow up on the page. Son Mike went from a baby to a schoolchild to a collegiate journalist to a married father of two. Daughter Liz is now teaching school in a First Nations community. Even young April recently had her first make-out session after eighth-grade graduation. Sure, the strip sometimes drives me bonkers: Do the Pattersons have to be so perfect? How do all Mike’s friends have million-dollar businesses already? What’s with the weird storyline about Liz’s now-married boyfriend and his baby-hating French-Canadian wife, Thérèse? But stop reading? Never! The Pattersons are like family now, and you don’t give up on family. —Gael Fashingbauer Cooper

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Taco trucks
A James Beard award is due whoever took the utter perfection that is the taco and decided to sell it from a vehicle. Some days it’s hard to believe I once led a life in which tacos came from Taco Bell and Old El Paso — a life unenlightened by the joys of fresh masa tortillas handed to me through the slide window of a panel truck. Taco trucks are the retort to every snooty menu ever written, every lousy Tex-Mex chain that darkens the face of our great land. They serve working mens’ food, which means you don’t inquire where the beef came from and you drink Jarritos soda, not Evian. Though you can stay in the shallow end of the meat pool, with chicken or carne asada, a good taco truck’s real pleasures are revealed to the brave: Try the tacos de lengua (tongue) or cabeza (beef cheek). A Seattle taco bus even serves up my favorite tostada de ceviche. One final tip: Wine country is filled with taco trucks, since most vineyards would shrivel and die without Mexican laborers. Next time, skip the frou-frou bistros and head for the convenience-store parking lot. Best $5 meal you’ll ever find. —Jon Bonné

Shark books on the beach
“Jaws” was scary enough to keep beachgoers out of the ocean for decades. But what if there was something so large lurking beneath your flailing legs, it made a Great White look like a sea monkey? That’s the premise behind the three “MEG” books by Steve Alten, which explore what might happen if a 20-ton Megalodon shark survived since prehistoric times by hanging out in the depths of the Mariana Trench, then decided to visit the shallows — a smorgasbord of surfers and swimmers. It’s the pure terror in the concept that makes these books ideal reading at the beach. How can you not tremble a little as you plop yourself down in the sand and crack the spine, letting your eyes lift from the page and stare out into the water, hoping to God you don’t see a fin the size of a sailboat cutting through the ocean? A movie’s in the works, but the most visceral thrills come when you feel the book in your hand, the sand in your toes and your heart jackhammering in your chest. —Brian Bellmont

CONTINUED : Online diaries, ice cream sandwiches

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