Umbrellas
I rarely use umbrellas. I think their main value is for women and the English. If I had to walk for hours in the rain, as the English do, it would make sense. When I am darting from the car to the store, it doesn't. I won't melt. Women's hair, I am told, does indeed melt when it gets wet. They spend hours doing their hair and make-up, and a good rainstorm kills both. Van Morrison sang, "All the girls walk by dressed up for each other -- While the boys do the boogie-woogie out in the street." Rain doesn't hurt real men. It's just water, right? In a few minutes it will evaporate. So if you aren't English, or female, and if your race through the storm is less than thirty seconds long -- be a man, and leave the umbrella in the car.

Family
This is the time of year when we think more about, and spend more time with, our families. If you have a good family, that’s nice. If you don’t, that can be tough. Working in a hospital, I see lots of different kinds of families. Some families are very close, and easy to work with. Other families are so close, that we have to call security to escort them out of the building. I grew up thinking my birth family was a pretty average one. In college I discovered that my family was, instead, very unique and special. Most families didn’t have what mine did. My wife and I have tried to make our own family a special one, too. Most of the times, it seems we did a pretty decent job of it. I thank God for my (two) normal families, and hope you have one, too. Merry Christmas!

Hotels
How a hotel sets fees for lodging and amenities is a mystery to me. Last weekend, I stayed in a very nice hotel. It only cost $50 bucks but included – indoor heated pool and whirlpool, a reception with free drinks and snacks in the evening, a constantly on popcorn popper, a pop dispenser available 24/7, free in room wireless internet, free (real) hot breakfast in the morning, and a really nice room. I have stayed in the same city, paid $20-30 more for a room, received almost no amenities, and had to pay an extra $10-20 a night for parking. It seems like the higher the room, the less fun you receive. What’s up with that? Would you buy a car that came with less stuff, as you spent more? Preposterous! Explain, please.

Smallerized
I think it is cool when traditionally large things get smallerized. The Hummer H3 is a ridiculous car that was shrunk to be slightly less offensive. I can’t fit in one, but Mini Coopers are cool. My Honda Fit is essentially a minivan that has been shrunk by half. Cars aren’t all, either. I like my phone book that is one-third the size of others. I enjoy eating M&M minis. On Jurassic Park, they created an elephant the size of a mouse – wouldn’t that be a cool pet? My wife has a pen that is about half the regular size. New half-sized laptops, called netbooks, are available. OK, I’m easily entertained – by halves.

Conspiracy!
I have no use or patience for conspiracy theorists. Their biggest assumption is this or that group huddles together on a regular basis to make sweeping decisions for the rest of us. Let me elaborate. Cancer doctors do NOT assemble to squash cures and keep cancer going, so they can be rich. Media folks do NOT assemble and spin the news so they all come to the same conclusion. Oil producers do NOT assemble to buy out or kill folks that are designing ultra-fuel-efficient cars. Christians do NOT gather and plan ways to monopolize the government. Liberals do NOT gather and scheme about tearing family values away from conservatives. Muslims do NOT (ALL) huddle and plan to kill the citizens of the U.S. There are at least two terms for those who believe in such gatherings – paranoia and schizophrenia. Therapy and medication is available for both.

Universal health care

Mike (name changed) was two years older than me when he died a few months ago. He died from a massive brain bleed, caused by high blood pressure. Though Mike worked 50 hours a week as an auto body specialist he could not afford doctors, health insurance, or medicine. Aside from high blood pressure, Mike was in otherwise very good physical shape. Generic blood pressure medicine would have cost maybe $100 a year, plus a $150 doctor visit to get the prescription. Instead he died, leaving behind a wife and two children. Let’s be honest. Let’s get past the liberal vs. conservative labels. Let’s sidestep the them-vs.-us arguments. If we can afford to spend $5-10 billion per month on a war that has no direct benefit to us, we can afford to insure Mike and everyone else like him. Not to do so is a moral and ethical travesty.

Auto faucets

I hate automatic faucets. Most the time, they simply won’t turn on. I wave my hands in front of them, clap like a maniac, genuflect like a Catholic – nothing! I go down the line to other faucets till I find one that works. Then the water is either burning hot (in summer) or icy cold (in the winter). On top of those indignities, the thing stops before all the soap is off my hands. What is this technological piece of crap, to decide when I’ve had enough water? Am I not the better judge of that? Then I go to the auto towel dispenser, and it won’t do anything, either. You’re supposed to wave your hands in front of it, but I normally have to tap, punch, or kick it. Then with my newly sterile hands, I touch the plague-laden door handle to exit the room. What’s the sanitation value of all this, I ask you?

Trash Day

Trash day drives me crazy. You gotta have your trash out to the curb by 6am, or you miss the truck. So you wake up before 6 to haul it out there, or you have to put it out the night before. If you do that, the dogs and mongeese scatter it around the ‘hood. If it’s a holiday, it will run a day late – unless it doesn’t and you missed a whole week because they weren't in the mood. And how about recycling? I’m trying to be responsible, and keep Al Gore happy, but who knows what they do with that stuff – really? Are we sure they don’t just throw it in the pile with all the other stuff? Then they laugh at us, and spend our extra recycling fees on beer and pizza. On the positive side, I’m glad somebody takes it away and does something with it. The banana peels and tuna cans are smelling a bit ripe. Stinky!

Amanda Jones

Amanda Jones is the 109 year old black woman that Obama referenced in his acceptance speech. She is a woman of deep faith (according to NPR), with framed Bible verses all over the walls of her home. She believes in God, even though scores of horrible atrocities she has experienced could have removed that faith from her. She feels that God himself had a hand in this process, and that Barack’s election is a “blessing.” I agree with her. God bless you, Mrs. Jones, and rest well. God knows you have earned it.

One more week

One more week until the big election – what will we do after that to entertain ourselves? Run in fear, possibly, if the wrong person is elected. Honestly, though, our country has enough checks and balances built into it that we might not see a whole lot of difference right away. Let’s be honest too – a president really can’t do much, if his peeps aren’t behind him. George Carlin said there are enough crazies in California, Texas, and Wyoming to keep us entertained for years. Interesting days ahead, yo!

Idiopathic

The word idiopathic is medical-speak for “we don’t know.” Amazing to me that with all our toys, tools, and training – the answer is often still “dunno.” Add in a cool sounding word, and the inability to figure something out still sounds intelligent. “What would you do with the state of our economy, senator?” “Well Bob, I’m a little idiopathic on that right now.” “As president, what would you do about dependence on foreign oil?” “I would assemble all the geniuses, and determine the idiopathic response, Bob.” I like it! Let’s all try to use the word in casual conversation this week. For something so easy, it sounds really bright.

Overheard at the hospital:

Nurse 3: The wrinkly skin that covers the elbow is called the weenis.
Nurse 4: The what? The weenis?
Nurse 3: Yeah, the weenis. A very interesting part of the body. There are no nerves in the weenis. It doesn’t hurt if you injure it, or pull it.
(All the nurses started pulling on their elbow skin, to find out if that was true. So did I.)
Nurse 1: I can feel it when I pull on my weenis.
Nurse 3: I didn’t say you couldn’t feel it. I said it wouldn’t hurt.
Nurse 2: Wow, I pinched my weenis, and really couldn’t feel a thing!
Nurse 4: It hurts when I pinch my weenis.
Nurse 3: There’s no way – you have no nerves there. Maybe you can feel it, because you are pulling the skin around your weenis, and not just the weenis itself.
(Conversation accurate, but edited for space considerations)

Stiff drinks

Why has the cost of non-alcoholic drinks (soda and iced tea) gotten so expensive in restaurants? Most charge $1.60 and up now. Zios charges $2.19! A family of four could drop eight bucks before they even order food! Of course you could drink water, but why the high cost? I would guess that soda costs a restaurant less than a dollar a gallon, and iced tea must be even less. McDonalds’ has 42 oz. drinks for under a dollar, and most convenience stores do, too. I think it must be the terrorists. Everything is blamed on them now, or on one of the two political parties. I don’t want to argue politics, so let’s just agree that it must be the terrorists. This newest offense is an outrage! Where is John Wayne when we need him?

Childbirth and photography

Mary brought forth a son, and they named him Jesus. "Brought forth" – I like that! “Produced” sounds too mechanical, and “gave birth to” sounds too animal. Brought forth gives the sense of “I made this for us – do you like it?” Yes, as a matter of fact I do! My wife has brought forth twice, and she did a great job both times. Sometimes modernism is better, and some time it isn’t. That’s like saying the photographs of Ansel Adams would be better if they were in color. Poppycock! Adams brought forth black and white, and it rules!

Loft Life

This weekend, my wife and I took a tour of seven cool lofts. The stairwells were torture, but the homes themselves were great. Odd thing, though – in all seven cases, the residents of the lofts were artists – photographers, designers, architects, etc. Do artists have to live in lofts to be taken seriously? Is there something about a loft that calls out to artistic types? Am I by definition non-creative because I don’t live in a loft? Would I be a better writer if my living room was all windows, and overlooked the railroad tracks? So many questions to ponder! Exhausting – think I’ll go take a nap in the dark bedroom of my one floor house, in my standard neighborhood.

Mouseflipper

I have a mouseflipper in my garage. Most folks would call it a shovel, but I use mine to flip mice over the back fence. Our cat brings us this little flaccid offerings of joy, expecting praise and wanting to bring them – flopping – into our living room. Cat shrinks (they exist) say we should not scold her, because she is only doing what comes naturally. I guess that is the real difference between humans and our pets – we are expected to act on higher impulses, rather than always just doing that which our baser natures would dictate. Otherwise, we would all be built like Karl Rove and act like Paris Hilton. So why do they get paid so much?

Dreams

Last night I dreamed I was given a plastic blister pack of The Top Nine US Marshals Play Set. Where does this stuff come from? The theory I subscribe to is that during the day the brain collects random bits of flotsam and jetsam, then weaves it all into a story to entertain itself. May not be true, but I like that explanation. On the old Jetsons TV show, you could program a little machine before going to bed, to direct your dreams. I prefer it the natural way – the randomization is great. Shakespeare said “To sleep, perchance to dream.” Dream on!

Lane pigs

I really, truly dislike lane pigs. Folks that design store layouts work very hard to make each aisle exactly two carts wide. When a single person with one cart clogs up the whole aisle, I get angry. Halls in most public buildings are at least three people wide. When two people clog up a whole hall so I can’t walk by, it makes me angry. These folks don’t straddle the white line when driving down a road – why on earth do they find it acceptable to do so in a grocery store, or while walking down a hall? Do we need to paint white stripes inside all buildings, so they wake up and walk straight? Infuriating!

The REAL oil problem

We’ve been fooled – the whole nation of us. Thousands of shops around the country have trained us to change our car’s oil every three thousand (3K) miles. Quite frankly, we are idiots. The manufacturers themselves, who built the cars, recommend oil changes every 5K – 7.5K miles. Who knows these cars better – the manufacturers, or folks getting rich off of us? Auto makers have for decades been making our cars LESS needy – fewer tune-ups, better longevity, etc. This 3K thing is a bad joke. My car has an “oil life indicator” that says the oil has over half of its life left, even after 5K. The bigger issue, though, is that changing too often wastes crude oil that could be made into gasoline instead. Honest - wouldn’t we rather have more gas, for a lower price, than overlubed cars? What a crock!

Olympics #2

Can you imagine eating 12,000 calories per day? Can you imagine being required to do that? US Olympic swimming hero Michael Phelps averages 12,000 calories per day while he is in training. That’s how much fuel his body needs just to keep going at that pace. Phelps eats between four and six times as much as most folks do. The point? The next time I’m accused of overeating, I’ll just say I’m prepping for the Olympics. Phelps and I are in such similar shape, that I’m sure no one would question it. What a deal – wish I had thought of this years ago!

The Olympics

“I’d give anything to have a body like that!” I’ve said that – have you? I wrote down a goal to have a flat stomach by 40, and I’m not there yet, twelve years later. The truth is, we wouldn’t “do anything” or “give anything” to be in shape. If so, we would do it. Getting thin and in shape is incredibly hard – I’m beginning to think it’s one of the hardest things on earth to do. That’s why I so admire the Olympians. Funny that McDonalds is an official sponsor – how many meals at McDonald’s would you guess the athletes eat per week? I know most of them don’t have to bother with jobs and such while training, but it’s still tough work. They get props for their dedication. Thanks gang – we’ll be watching!

BOGO

Bogo is grocery store-speak for buy one, get one free. It is cool to get two packages of grilled albatross for the price of one. Just this week a car dealer here raised the bar. If you buy a 2008 Chevy Suburban (they can’t give them away now), you get a 2008 Chevy Aveo for free. Where else can this be used? If you buy a $20 meal, dessert could be free. If you buy a dog, you get a free kitten. McDonalds invented the combo meal many years back, when people quit eating their french fries. Buy a sandwich and drink, and the fries are free. Linus once told Charlie Brown that when a baby is born, he should be issued a banjo. Pay your taxes, and you get an extra vote in the local elections. What bogo bargains can you think of?

Bonafide

One of my favorite movies is "Oh Brother, Where art Thou?" The title character (played by George Clooney) gets replaced in his wife's affections by another guy because the new guy is "bonafide," whereas Clooney isn't. A definition of bonafide is never given, but we all have a basic understanding of the concept. I just got stamped as bonafide -- I passed a major hurdling with credentialing in my field. I won't make any more money, and it won't make any real difference in how I do my job. But last week I wasn't bonafide, and now I am. I like it. It feels good to be bonafide. Wish I had done it before. You should get bonafide, too. We could all be bonafied together.

Overpriced

I know that I’m old. But still, some things really should be cheaper than they are. Water shouldn’t cost a dollar a bottle – it’s water. Air for your tires at a gas station should be free, or .25 tops – never fifty or seventy five cents. If you buy gas, you should get a free token for air. Blue jeans should never cost more than $40/pair. Women’s swim suits have less fabric than men’s, so they should cost less. A haircut should never cost more than $20. Plumbers shouldn’t make more than school teachers. And that’s as far as we’ll go this time.

Troponin

My car (and yours) has idiot lights that are supposed to fire up, warning you before the car explodes. Wouldn’t it be cool if our bodies did that, too? Turns out, they do – if you are having a heart attack an odd enzyme named troponin shows up in your blood. It doesn’t get in the blood any other time except for heart damage. (Well OK – it also lights up if you are stung by an Egyptian scorpion, but that isn’t likely to happen to most of us) When an ER doc sees troponin in your blood, you are quickly whisked away for a heart procedure. Scary for sure, but pretty cool. I think my blood also lights up when I am low on cheesecake, but there isn’t a blood test for that yet. A shame, truly.

On Holiday

Americans go on vacation, but Europeans go on holiday. Have you noticed that you are always exhausted after a vacation? You gotta see everything you possibly can, right? Normally you wouldn’t stop, but on vacation you just might stop at “Cock Roach City.” Where else could you see a 5,000 pound cement roach, purported to be the biggest in the world? You could read about 10 little known roach facts, the ten most famous roaches in history, and all the ways in which cockroaches benefit mankind. Which areas of the country and the world have the most and least cockroaches? On vacation, you’ve got the time – go ahead and stop. You’ll be glad you did.

Citizen's Arrest

Wouldn’t it be great if anyone could issue a traffic ticket? They could be “provisional violations,” but when you got five of them, they would become a real ticket with a real fine. Just yesterday, a driver cut across an intersection so close it practically tore the nose off of my car – and I had just spent two hours hand waxing it! Don’t people remember the concept of turning “square corners” from driving class? And what about those buffoons that swing WAY out like the Titanic before turning into a street or driveway? Wouldn’t you love to put a ticket on those huge trucks that park so they take up three spaces? Remember the “citizen’s arrest” episode of Andy Griffith? Where is Barney when we need him? I could issue ten tickets a month, easy. Just being helpful.

Gas prices

“I’m tired of hearing about gas prices,” my wife said recently. “It’s the current excuse for everything.” I agree. Nobody likes to pay more for anything, but let’s admit that we are a bunch of spoiled brats on this subject. Practically EVERYONE pays more for gas than we do. During WW2, folks learned to do without. Coffee, sugar, chocolate, and gasoline were rationed. When is the last time you and I were told there simply wasn’t enough of something for us to get what we wanted? As I see it, we have two basic choices – shut up, or stay home. We all have TVs and books. There are public busses to take you to work, and to the store. If you choose to drive, don’t complain about it.

Obama

Knowing the massive readership this blog generates, I feel fairly safe departing this one time from my normally light and generic themes. I am truly astounded that Obama has won the Democratic nomination. Only fifty years ago – in my personal lifetime – blacks in America had separate water fountains, cafes, and assigned seating on public busses. While I was in college one of my professors was going to preach a weekend revival in a church where the people literally believed that blacks did not have souls – they were simple creatures, like dogs and chipmunks. We still have a long way to go in this country, in so many areas. But on race, we are starting to wake up. MLK’s goal of a day when his children “would be judged by the content of their character rather than the color of their skin” is within reach. I am crying while I write this. I find this remarkable, and so should you.

The Earth is Flat

One of my heroes died in 2001, but I didn’t know about it till recently. Charles K. Johnson was the leader for the Flat Earth Society in America. The movement actually began in England as the Universal Zetetic Society, before “jumping the pond” a few decades ago and having Johnson pick up the mantle. Johnson honestly, seriously believed the earth was flat. He also believed that Moses, Columbus, and George Washington were Flat Earthers, as well. Zetetics teach that the world is flat as a phonograph record, and the north pole is at the center. The internet has a lot of stuff about Flat Earthers, but most of them are just there to make fun of the idea. Johnson believed it. He was a loon, but I give him credit – not too many folks will stand when everyone thinks you are wrong. Here’s to you, CKJ!
http://tafkac.org/science/flat_earth_society_flyer.html

Chapstick King

My family knows I am the chapstick king. I always – always – have a chapstick in my pocket. Thinking back on it, I always have – at least since my high school days. It’s probably all in my head, but when I leave my chapstick at home my lips start hurting right away and in a few hours they are a mess. A doctor would probably tell me to drink less caffeine, or something like that. I’d rather just carry a chapstick around. Lots of men carry a pocket knife. Most women carry makeup and Kleenex. I carry a chapstick. Someday the president of the company (Mr. Chap) will ring my doorbell, and hand me the keys to a new moped - for being their most faithful customer. It might even be shaped like a giant chapstick. I would ride it.

Rubber pants

I love to ride my bicycle, but I’m not manic about it. I don’t ride it when it is raining, or snowing, or when I would get heat stroke after a few miles. My feeling is that my bike is there for me to enjoy, and not the other way around. I also haven’t bought any rubber bicycle clothes, nor do I plan to do so anytime soon. Gotta give props, though, to a couple I met a few weeks ago. They came into my hospital’s ER from a bike crash, wearing matching rubber clothes. For some this might seem silly, but this couple was in their early 70’s! They are doing fine, but some of their rubber clothes got chopped up by the scissor-happy nurses in the ER. If you don’t know about that, it’s because of a closely guarded secret about hospitals. Here’s all you need to know – always wear clean underwear, just like your mom told you to.

Postage Increase

Postage rates are going up again, causing the regular ranters to go at it again. I won’t join them. Like you, I wish postage and everything else would stay the same price. It never has, though, so let’s get over it. Postage is still one of the biggest bargains in the country. For less than fifty cents someone will come to my actual home, take a card out of my mailbox, fly it on a multi-million dollar airplane anywhere – get this – anywhere – in the nation, then hand deliver it to the person I choose. Not in six weeks, not even two weeks, but in two or three days! Amazing! I don’t know about you, but there are precious few things I would do for fifty cents. The US mail would be a bargain even if it cost a dollar per letter. So, please, spare me the whiners that cry over spending an extra penny. They need to get a life.

Compu Love

For years, I’ve thought I could be Amish – for a two week period. The discipline of hard work, an unplugged lifestyle, hearty food and fellowship – that seemed attractive to me. I’ve changed my mind. I couldn’t do it. I would miss my current lifestyle so much, but mainly I would miss my computer. It’s tragic, but I am addicted to my computer, and I admit it. It is very hard for me to go one day without using a computer. When ours crashed recently, it was torture. It isn’t just searching the internet, either. I love it all – the email, the constant news, the political buzz. I love to write and read, and prefer to do both on the computer. I love that my world is pre-digested, and feed to me in small bits. I often sit in front of my computer and ask, “What can you tell me today?” On TV, content is fed at their speed. On my computer, I set the speed and content. I love that. I’m a tech-type pig, but the Amish only eat meat-type pigs – so I’m cool with that.

Pistols as tools

You probably heard about it on the news a while back. A man was arrested for using a pistol as a tool. The guy was installing a satellite dish, and used his gun to blast a hole through the wall of his home, to run the cable through. I guess it was faster than getting out the drill and an extension cord. Sadly, his wife was on the other side of the wall. The bullet hit her, and she died. The husband was not charged with a crime. The thinking was, I guess, that he wasn’t bright enough to have done that on purpose. Probably true. I know some folks who shot a snake with a pistol. Unfortunately, the snake was in their kitchen at the time. The bullet went through the snake, through the floor, and through a water line under their home. In movies, people shoot locks off doors, using pistols. Seems to me the bullet would ricochet off the lock and burrow into your neck. I admit it – I’m no expert on pistols. Truth is, I have never fired one in my life. You don’t have to be a gun expert, though, to know pistols were never meant to be used as power tools. Otherwise, they would come with rechargeable batteries.

American Idol

My wife and I love American Idol, consistently ranked the most watched show in the nation. I prefer the beginning of each season, when the truly horrible contestants are auditioning. My wife prefers the end of a season, when the cream of the crop has risen to the top. We are both amused by the folks that seem astounded when told they cannot sing. “What you mean I cain’t sang? Everbody knows I can sang. I sang in the church choir every week! I give lessins, learnin’ other folks how to sang!” An article I read awhile back says that many young adults in the 15-30 age bracket (AI contestant range) are part of the “empowerment generation.” Parental psychology then was to tell your precious child that everything he/she did was perfect, so as not to crush their little dreams or stifle their creativity. Piffle! A child’s crayon art can be praised and displayed on the side of the fridge, without suggesting it deserves a place in the Guggenheim. My two adult children are strong and self-sufficient, and neither one feels slighted for not being on American Idol. Empower that!

Hospital tricks

We all love shortcuts. Here are a few to try, the next time you have to go to a hospital’s emergency room. 1) At the check in desk, ask them how long the wait time will be. If it’s longer than having your house repainted, how bad do you really feel? 2) To get quicker service in an ER, come in through the back door instead of the front. Ambulances and helicopters trump everyone that drove up. Of course, that requires your being injured bad enough to require back door delivery. I can’t solve all your problems for you. 3) The words “chest pain” and “dizzy” will get you seen quicker. If they think you’re lying, though, they will put you in the back corner till you rot. 4) Don’t eat or drink anything while waiting to be seen. Tests have to be done when you are empty and dry. 5) Never specifically ask for pain medication, and never/ever ask for medicine of a particular type or strength. If you do, you’ll be labeled a “drug seeker,” and will still be in the waiting room when the housekeeper comes in the next morning to clean up. 6) Be patient, and don’t threaten the desk crew. Your life is in their hands – literally, and they know it. 7) Lastly, and this goes for places besides ER waiting rooms – If you push and hold the floor number button at the same time you are pushing the close door button, most elevators will close up and get under way immediately, leaving others running toward you with their arms flailing about. What fun!

Gizzard Man

I recently stood in line at the grocery store, waiting behind a red-faced man who was returning some fried chicken gizzards. He was livid about said gizzards, and was quite impatient with all the other customers who were wasting his time by buying postage stamps and money orders. I really thought he might have a stroke before his turn came up. When it did, he threw down the package and ranted about having paid for chicken LIVERS, and receiving GIZZARDS instead. “I can’t imagine anybody being so stupid,” he railed, “as to not know the difference between livers and gizzards!” I found myself thinking that anyone who eats either chicken livers or chicken gizzards probably doesn’t have the most discriminating palette, anyway. She refunded his purchase – I swear this is true – a whopping $1.05! As I stepped up next and tried to comfort her, Gizzard Man went up to another employee and starting ranting to him. Now picture this – this clown discovers the problem, turns off the COPS show he’s watching, climbs into his truck, drives clear back to store, smelling the offending fried chicken innards all the way there, to get back $1.05? He spent three times that in gas to just have something to complain about. Some people ought never to have been born. I think scripture says something like that.

Spring

Spring is my favorite season. I like to see things waking up, turning green, coming back to life. I don’t understand how autumn, when everything is dying, can be anyone’s favorite time of year. I love being warm, and despise being cold. Part of being tall is having poor circulation to the extremities, which means numb fingers and toes when I’m outside. I hate that. I also don’t like wearing a knit cap to keep my head warm, then taking it off and having my hair look horrible. I don’t carry a comb or brush with me, so I hope that doing my hair once in the morning lasts me for the whole day. I feel sorry for women that always have to redo their hair, but I am glad that they do it. Another great part of spring is that I’m a guy. For guys, spring means power tools – mowers, blowers, edgers, weeders, sprinklers, etc. Most guys are happy when they tools to play with, and spring does that for us. It smells good and feels good to get oil, gasoline, and grease all over ourselves. Men were made to smell like petroleum products. Women were meant to smell like perfume and cookies. God set us up like that. I don’t question it, I just go with the flow.

Caffeine

I recently gave up pop for Lent. I’m not Catholic, but seeing if you have the discipline to give up something you like is an interesting exercise. Since I quit pop short-term, I’m considering making it a permanent deletion. Having more money in my pocket, and less chemicals in my body, seems like a good idea. I am cheating a little, though, by drinking more iced tea than ever. I can make tea at home, but can’t produce diet Dr Pepper in my kitchen. Years ago, I had some minor success with making homemade root beer. I quit that, though, because root beer doesn’t have caffeine in it. That’s why Mormons avoid pop, but drink gallons of root beer. For them, Mountain Dew is “right out” (Monty Python). I truly love caffeine. It is the one thing I will admit being addicted to. Caffeine is Magical Stuff. I tried to quit caffeine a couple of times, but the constant yawning was embarrassing. “No, you don’t bore me. I just haven’t had any pop yet, today. OK, you do bore me – but only a little.” I don’t understand the point of coffees and teas that are decaffeinated. Neither taste that good naturally, without being doctored up a little. They are acquired tastes, to give us a delivery vehicle for caffeine. Most of us did way too much caffeine in our college years, but the body can shunt more abuse when we’re young. If caffeine was your only abuse in college, you did far better than most.

Hello, goodbye

“Have a day,” the cashier quipped as I picked up my bag to leave. I didn’t think about it till I got to the car. What does that mean? Is it too difficult to add one more word – like “nice” or “good?” Since then, several others have generically wished me “a day.” It’s supposed to be witty, I guess, but it irritates me. The reality is we don’t always know how to say hello and goodbye to each other. Mostly we are in too big a hurry to get gone. What’s the point of asking, “Fine, and how are YOU?” if we don’t stay around to hear the answer? Should we change our hellos and goodbyes to “Yo!,” “Wassup,” and “Later?” Do we want to go back to “fare thee well” and “may the devil take thee, then?” The Beatles sang, “I don’t know why you say goodbye – I said hello.” Groucho Marx sang, “Hello, I must be going.” Well, I guess that’s about . . .

Favorite ER Diagnoses

I work in a hospital. Patients that come to our ER are given a brief but clear diagnosis for why they came in for treatment. Here are my current favorites:
Vomiting alone
Bit by bat on head
Fever, funny nose
“I just feel like crap”
Cyanotic toes
Pain of biblical proportions

Reigning cats and dogs

My wife says when she was growing up, if the cat was in your chair then you sat somewhere else. My raising was slightly different. My dad once said we should feed the cat to the dog, then shoot the dog. We all grew up with animals, though, and our lives are the richer for it. I find it tragic to see a child who is afraid of animals. One of my brothers said you shouldn’t be allowed to raise a child, until you have proven you can raise a well-adjusted puppy.
When you are gone for two hours, your dog will greet you like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen. He will also sniff you all over, to determine what experiences you have encountered since he saw you last. If you take a two week vacation, when you come home the cat won’t notice you’ve been gone. “Oh, did you step out for a while? Didn’t notice. The water bowl could use a little refreshing, though.” The catbox became my duty when my wife was pregnant with our first child. “Hey, there’s a disease in there that could kill our kid!” Now it’s 25 years later, and I still have catbox duty. Maybe my dad was partially right after all.
We said goodbye this week to one of our dogs. I still see her all over the house, and keep thinking I hear her walking around. I miss her. Rest well, Mysti. You were a joy!

Rant - Nasty food

One of my brothers coined the phrase “nasty food” a while back. It refers to food that tastes great, but is very unhealthy – bacon cheeseburgers and raspberry white chocolate cheesecake, for examples. Though I don’t eat as much of it as I used to, I do love nasty food. My guess is that you do, too. Let’s be honest – salt, sugar, and fat are the three ingredients that make food taste so good. Without salt, your food is bland. Without sugar, your food is less satisfying. Without fat, you’ve got food that tastes like cardboard. Without all three, you have Kashi breakfast cereals (a personal rant for another day). Medically, you should eat as little nasty food as possible. I understand that. What I don’t understand, and won’t accept, is for this to be an ethical or political issue. I have a niece who is a vegan. She is also a beautiful, intelligent, educated woman. She doesn’t try to guilt those around her who eat nasty food. As a human, as an American, it is within our rights to eat what we want to eat. I hope no one ever tries to protect us to death, by limiting what we are allowed to buy and to eat.

Neckties

I have almost 70 neckties, and most of them are silk. They hang artfully in my closet on an electric, illuminated, rotating tie rack. Nothing in my life makes me feel more like an American. I bought less than ten of them, the rest came as gifts from a dear sister in law. Though I complain about wearing ties 5-6 days a week, the truth is that I enjoy dressing well. Mark Twain was once asked why he always wore his signature white linen suits. He responded, “Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society.” A visit to any water park or public pool clearly demonstrates that most people look better dressed up than not.
One does wonder, though, how the practice began. Why humans wear pants and shirts is pretty self-explanatory, but neckties? The internet says Chinese royalty started the practice almost two hundred years before the birth of Christ. Then the practice disappeared for a while, only to start again around the 1600’s. Weird how history works. And who decided the tying process for these things? In the same way that you can’t tickle yourself, you can’t easily tie a necktie for someone else. I’m afraid to even try a bowtie – who knows how those operate? Maybe the aliens that helped build the Egyptian pyramids and those huge heads on Easter Island had something to do with neckties. Your guess is as good as mine.

Elevator Etiquette

The building I work in has many elevators. They seem like a pretty straight-forward means of conveyance to me, but apparently some people are still mystified by them. I was alone in an elevator recently, and stepped out on the ground floor. A college-aged guy stepped in, looked confused and stepped out, looked even more confused and stepped back in. When I asked if he needed help, he answered “does this elevator go back up?”

I’ll give that guy the benefit of the doubt – maybe he was behind on his sleep. What drives me crazy, though, are folks who seem not to understand the most basic rule of elevator etiquette. Here it is – wait for folks to get OFF the elevator, before you get ON. Seems deceptively simply, doesn’t it? Why do folks try to slam into a crowded elevator as soon as the door opens, then seem surprised that they have packed in the people who hoped to get out? Isn’t the whole point of their taking the elevator, and of the door opening, that when the door opened they were hoping to get out? Can those waiting for an elevator not wait ten seconds before boarding? To quote that current ad for soda pop – “Wake up, people!”

Duck Tape

Duck tape isn’t the real name for that silvery do-all stuff, and anybody who calls it that should be slapped. The real name is DUCT tape, and it was invented to seal the joints in air-conditioning and heating ductwork. As we became lazier and more illiterate, the word gradually morphed from duct to duck. We mispronounced it, and ended up misspelling it. To add insult to injury, the MANCO corporation (America’s leading duct tape manufacturer) officially changed the name to duck, and put a cartoon picture of a big yellow duck right on the package! You can’t blame them, really – they were just giving us what we were asking for. They knew better, but the marketing department convinced the suits in the big office that they could sell more tape if there was a duck on the package. So now, when you buy a roll of MANCO duct tape it actually says duck right on the package!

Why does all this matter? Because it supports our tendency to be lazy and ignorant! It wouldn’t be so bad if duct tape was the only casualty, but there are so many more examples. When you buy a bouquet of flowers now after forgetting your spouses’ birthday, the florist shop is likely to have a sign that says “Bokays!” on the wall. It isn’t a bokay, it’s a bouquet – OK?

Wait, there’s more. Twenty years ago, a major brand of honey sold in America was the Sioux Bee label. The sweet nectar was named after the Sioux Indians, a proud part of our Native American heritage. That honey is now called the “Sue Bee” brand, because we didn’t want to bother trying to pronounce the original name. Every once in a while, a group of Native Americans protests the use of an Indian name if they feel it is improperly applied to a sports team. Changing the word to Sioux to Sue would, it seems to me, be an equally offensive degradation of the original tribal name.

When you buy fast food (we all do – get off your high horse!), does the word “drive thru” appear for the take out lane? Why do we allow “through” to be written “thru?” Is it harder to pronounce? Can we not afford the paint for the extra three letters? Can’t the restaurant charge an extra penny for cheese, and spell the word correctly?

Now there is a movement afoot in our country to drop the use of apostrophes. The argument seems to be that it would be easier to drop them, than to educate people on the proper way to use them! Following that logic, why don’t we just close all our schools and universities, and sit around all day in our underwear eating cheetos and watching reruns of “The Simple Life?” That way, there won’t be any resistance when the robots come into our living rooms to take over our lives.

Drop The 9

According to our illustrious government, the price we pay for gasoline breaks down something like this – per dollar spent:

37 cents for the crude oil, from mashed-up dinosaurs

36 cents for state and federal taxes, to support our way of life

14 cents for distribution (from the field to your Ford)

13 cents for refining and processing costs
As you can see, taxes on gasoline cost about the same as does the crude oil. When gas was cheap (29.9 per gallon for folks my age), nine point nine cents of the price per gallon was for taxes. The other twenty cents went for the crude oil, refining, and distribution. Those days have long passed, and the need for a “point nine” has gone the way of the dinosaurs who gave their lives so we could drive to the local WalMart. I vote that we drop the 9, and simply have a non-fractioned price per gallon for gasoline. To give the tax-masters an incentive, we could even curve the current prices up to the next dollar, and let the suits have that point one percent to play with.