Inartfully Worded

As the shock value recedes from "Death Panels For Granny" under the proposed National Health Care Plan, our watchdogs at the Republican National Committee are at it again.

A questionnaire accompanying a recent funding appeal says the government could check voters registration records "prompting fears that GOP voters might be discriminated against for medical treatment in a Democrat-imposed health care rationing system. Does this possibility concern you?"

D'uh, yes! Not only am I a grandparent, but I've voted Republican. "Young Mr Democrat, the doctor will see you in Examination Room 1. You, there, elderly Republican. The morgue is at the bottom of the stairs, first door on the right and don't bleed all over the floor on your way down!"

Katie Wright, a spokesperson for the Republican National Committee said the question was "inartfully worded. The RNC doesn't try to scare people. We're just trying to get the facts out on health care."

My dear Ms Wright, "inartfully worded" is "Actually, that dress does make your butt look fat, dear." It is thoughtless, but ultimately harmless.

"Don't count on health care if you've ever voted Republican" is beyond "inartfully worded". In fact, it's almost as good a scare tactic as the classic "Saddam is pointing Weapons of Mass Destruction at your street", not that you fine folks at the RNC would ever stoop to something like that.

It would appear that the "fact" that you're trying to get out on Health Care is that I'd best change my voters' registration to Democrat on my way to the Emergency Room. Somehow, I don't think that is what you were shooting for.

Barrister's Hall of Fame

The iPod will never replace the radio. Radio may bombard us with music we don't like and news analysis that sets our teeth on edge, but it also provides us with exciting contests. How else can we obtain front row seats and back-stage passes to that sold-out Miley Cyrus concert without being the fortieth caller to "The Voice of the Valley, W-Whatever"? Dutiful parents can secure those impossible-to-get Cabbage Patch Kids or Tickle Me Elmos by doing stunts on-air. Trust me, this was a big item back in the 80s and 90s. I was thisclose to to ensuring the perpetual love and devotion of my two daughters by dressing up as a Kid or as Elmo and camping out on a billboard on Route 22.

Sometimes, radio stations go too far. When Wii consoles were in short supply in 2007, a Sacramento radio station held a "Hold Your Wee for Wii" contest. Participants had to drink water without urinating for three hours. Whoever went to the bathroom was out. Tragically, a 28 year old woman died as a result. Lawsuits ensued.

Even the winner sued the radio station claiming a form of PTSD. She claims that she cannot listen to the radio any more because she is afraid of contests. Even worse, in her job at Wal-Mart, she "experiences an inappropriate emotional reaction when she sees someone put bottled water in their carts."

Not to be cynical, but if she wins her case, her lawyer is a shoo-in for the Originality Wing of the Barristers' Hall of Fame. The radio station's lawyer can counter the woman's claim by moving the court hearing to Niagara Falls. "Your honor, Niagara Falls deposits more water in a minute than Wal-Mart sells in a year. If the plaintiff''s reaction is not 365 times more inappropriate than claimed in this suit, I move for dismissal!" That should get the radio station lawyer into the Nyah-Nyah Gotcha Wing of the Barrister's HOF.

Hospital Slots

We humble engineers constructed airfields and helipads for those dashing military aviators back in the day. We would thrill to their mottoes:

"Live fast. Die young. Leave a good-looking corpse."
"No guts. No glory."
"The pilot's breakfast - a cup of coffee and a cigarette."

Apparently, combining risk-taking and unhealthy personal habits is not limited to aviators. Pennsylvania's eight casinos measured revenue per slot machine in smoking versus non-smoking areas. "Live fast; die young" smokers dropped an average of two times more money per machine than those risk-averse, "hope I live until I'm 100" non-smokers.

The Pennsylvania Gaming Control Board may now authorize casinos to expand smoking areas, but is this wise? Revenues may increase today by opening up more slot machines to those devil-may-care smokers, but what about tomorrow when they are in the emphysema ward piteously coughing and hacking? Casino employees are already up in arms about second-hand smoke.

Here's a win-win scenario. Let's place slot machines in our hospitals! Patients there are no doubt bored to tears and twitchy without their cigarettes. Hospital visitors wouldn't mind some action either. After all, you can only make so many trips to the cafeteria or the gift shop. Hospital slots would be a gold mine.

That Darned Leftist Media

The First Amendment allows us freedom of speech. It does not restrict us to freedom of intelligent speech which is why we were subjected to Jar-Jar Binks in the last three "Star Wars" movies, the Olsen Twins in direct-to-DVD movies, and "According to Jim" on TV.

Today's newspaper contained a full-page ad from "The US Citizens Association" that would make the framers of the Constitution proud. It includes a sign-up form allowing us to "get continuous information on what is going on in government that affects you that you will not get in the leftist news media."

Oh, that darned leftist news media. The US Citizens Association's ad set me straight on the following:

"Barack Obama and the Democrats did not inherit the bad economy. They caused it and made it worse." The leftist Dow Jones Industrial Average, Standard and Poors, and Wall Street Journal had me convinced that the stock market dropped nearly 40% last fall and that financial giants Merrill Lynch and Bear Stearns went belly up in October. The leftist news media erroneously reported that Obama didn't take office until the following January. Apparently, those socialist Democrats were in charge the whole time. That whole Inauguration thing was as fake as the moon landings back in '69!
"Man-made global warming is a scam. Carbon dioxide is not a pollutant. It is critical for sustaining all life on earth because plants use carbon dioxide to produce oxygen. Over 90% of so-called greenhouse gases are not carbon dioxide. They are water vapor." That leftist Al Gore is not really anti-carbon. He is against green and growing, oxygen-producing plant life. By eliminating greenhouse gases, he is really eliminating water vapor which means that it won't rain anymore. No rain, no plants. That Al Gore must really hate vegetation.

"Millions of Americans have lost most of their retirement savings and most of their wealth due to investment losses. Meanwhile, Barack and Michelle Obama's wealth has skyrocketed and they live a life of luxury. The Obamas throw lavish parties on a regular basis at the White House for their socialist friends. These parties include flying in Kobe beef from Japan which costs $100 per pound. Michelle Obama wears designer clothes to these parties which cost thousands of dollars. These exorbitant parties cost the taxpayers millions of dollars." The leftist media don't want us to know that the Obamas are the first occupants of the White House to entertain there. Previously, when foreign dignitaries visited Washington, they were put up at Motel 6 and treated to dinner at the Golden Corral Tuesday Night Buffet (All You Can Eat for $19.95). Churchill especially enjoyed the Dessert Bar. You'll never read about that in the New York Times. Also, First Ladies from Martha Washington through Laura Bush actually chose their clothes from the discount rack at K-Mart. They were real Americans looking to save taxpayer dollars! Those photos of First Ladies garbed in satin and lace that we see in the leftist history books are actually photo-shopped or taken at those old-timey dress-up photo booths at Six Flags.

Thanks, US Citizens for setting me straight.

Definition of Conceit

The Dictionary provides us with handy illustrations to go with its definitions. It's one thing to read "Aardvark, noun, a large, burrowing nocturnal African mammal". It is another to see a sketch of what appears to be a cross between an elephant and a pig with the least attractive elements of each dominant. At the other end of the Dictionary, we have "Zygote, noun, a cell formed by the union of two gametes" and a sketch of what appears to be a portion of my paisley undershorts. How did Merriam Webster get into my underwear drawer?

There is no illustration for "Conceit, noun, excessive appreciation of one's own worth or virtue". Future editions of the Dictionary will, no doubt, have a sketch of Donald Trump there.

The Donald is "co-owner" of the Miss Universe Pageant. Upon its completion last Sunday, he commented, "I think this is the most beautiful group of women I've ever seen. In the old days, you got what you got. Now, Trump picks them. It makes a big difference."

You tell 'em, Trumpster! The bad old days of beauty pageant judges picking the winner based on talent, congeniality, and the ability to handle the dreaded personal interview ("If selected Miss Universe, how would you work toward peace with the parallel anti-matter Universe?") are so over. We rely solely on the unerring eye of Trump for pulchritude!

It's not an easy job, but someone has got to attend 84 national pageants around the globe to choose the contestants for the Miss Universe finals. Thankfully, The Donald is up to the task. What a guy!

If this doesn't get a sketch of Donald Trump under "conceit" in the Dictionary, I don't know what will.

New Coke Redux

"Official Team Jerseys With Your Favorite Player's Name and Number" are popular among young and old, male and female, and, apparently, homonid and canine.

Crowd shots during Phillies or Eagles telecasts show more than half the attendees proudly garbed in team "gear". The fan base for particular players and eras is revealed:

The "tween" and teen female demographic sport "Utley, 28" and "Hamels, 35" jerseys. "Omigod, he's so cute, and that hair!!!"

Fans approaching retirement age wear "old school" "Schmidt, 20" and "Carlton, 32" jerseys. "I've always been a Phillies fan, especially when they were good." There are remarkably few "Hemus, 2" or "Jeltz, 4" jerseys from the 50s and 80s when the Philles were perennial cellar dwellers. (Isn't that a great expression though? It sounds like creature from Hagrid's menagerie. Look out, Hermione, there's a perennial cellar dweller after you!"

"McNabb, 5" jerseys are relatively scarce. "Win us a Super Bowl, and then I'll trade in my Cunningham, 12." Guess what, people? Randall Cunningham didn't win you a Super Bowl either.

I haven't seen them yet, but reports indicate that "NFLShop, the league's merchandising arm, is offering several styles of Michael Vick apparel - including a customizable jersey for dogs."

Did the Texans wear "Santa Ana" jerseys after the Alamo? Did the 7th Cavalry wear "Sitting Bull" jerseys after Little Big Horn? Did Jennifer Aniston wear a "Brad Pitt" jersey post-Angelina? Will Philadelphians dress their dogs in "Vick, 7" jerseys in 2009?

Forgiveness is the most noble of human virtues, but these are the fans who booed Santa Claus at an Eagles game. A "Vick, 7" doggie jersey might be the biggest marketing gaffe since New Coke.

Muzak, RIP

Among the casualties of the recent economic downturn is our old friend Muzak. It filed for bankruptcy this year.

What will Yanni, Zafir "The Master of the Pan Flute", The Ray Coniff Singers, and Kenny G do now? Will these musicians who made elevator riding and non-trendy shopping bearable for past generations bearable be thrown into the dustbin of history? Will we be forced to talk to one another instead of humming along to "Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White" by Perez Prado? Oh, the pain!

Muzak was, for me, a mixed blessing. In 1974, my work group relocated to the Blue Cross Building at 12th and Hamilton in Allentown. Blue Cross provided Muzak throughout the building, intended as "white noise" to drown out the clacking of typewriters and key punch machines. Yes, Virginia, there was a time before a personal computer on every desk.

Unfortunately, my cubicle was directly beneath a speaker. My ears were assaulted by Mantovani and the 101 Strings doing the Beach Boys' Greatest Hits all day long. The upside was that the Muzak tape played the same tune at the same time every day. I didn't have to look at the clock to know that it was lunch time because Percy Faith would play the opening chords of "Theme From A Summer Place" at precisely 12 noon. To this day, my mouth waters and my stomach growls when I hear that song. It was time to don my coat and search for the car keys when Ferrante & Teicher would swing, appropriately enough into "The Theme from Exodus."

The downside was the guy in the adjacent cubicle. Paul was a tad "hard of hearing" and loved to hum or whistle. The Muzak was truly "white noise" to him, barely heard, but sufficiently audible that he would hum or whistle along with it. I had Nat "King" Cole in one ear and Paul humming out-of-tune accompaniment in the other. Curse you, Muzak! May you go bankrupt in 35 years!

Win - Win

The Express-Times website allows readers to comment on its stories. On Monday, the newspaper featured a page 1 article on replica toy guns that are dead ringers for actual weapons. Even criminals have to cut operating costs during this time of economic hardship. A realistic-looking toy gun from Toys R Us is cheaper than a real gun at the Wal-Mart next door thus improving profit margins for criminal enterprises.

Wasting no time, on Tuesday, Mattlick 12 contributed his thoughts. "If everyone was given a real gun by their local government, we wouldn't need to determine if guns are real or fake. This would decrease crime by at least 70% and also uphold our constitutional right to bear arms."

And I thought that Cash For Clunkers was a win-win! The government should give each and every one of us a free gun. We citizens would blow away criminals putting them in the morgue as opposed to in the jails thus saving the government more money than they paid for the guns in the first place! Surely, this was the "original intent" of the authors of the Bill of Rights.

Of course, we would have to limit free guns to "real Americans". Let's issue a 9mm Glock to teens when they pass their driver's test! If the written test is given only in good old American English, those illegal immigrants can't pass it. Anyone over the age of 16 (or 18 depending on the state of residence) not "packing iron" can be swept up by Immigration authorities. Another win-win!

If Obama is so smart, why didn't he think of this?

Freddie, We Hardly Knew Ye

It's a sure sign that your days as a top-flight celebrity are over when reality TV beckons. When "I'm A Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here" or "Big Brother" is your next job, it is a problem. When you find yourself as a "guest host" on pro wrestling's "Monday Night RAW", it is a serious problem.

So it was last night for Freddie Prinze, Jr. The former teen idol entered the ring to announce the tag team championship match coming up later in the show. WWE Champion Randy Orton took exception to Freddie's pairing him with his blood rival John Cena and proceeded to lay a "neck breaker" body slam on the unsuspecting guest host. Freddie remained prone on the mat and was quickly removed "to receive medical attention."

Freddie Prinze, Jr, former teen idol, star of "I Know What You Did Last Summer" (1997), "I Still Know What You Did Last Summer" (1998), "I Have A Fair Idea What You Thought Of Last Shrove Tuesday",(OK, I made that one up), and the unforgettable Scooby Doo movies (2003, 2004) had less than five minutes screen time ON MONDAY NIGHT CABLE TV PRO WRESTLING! To go from co-starring with Jennifer Love Hewitt, to sharing the screen with a CGI-generated dog is bad enough, but to get less screen time than "The Wiz" (the obnoxious, fast-talking pro wrestler, not the obnoxious, fast-talking appliance salesman) is a disgrace.

Fortunately, new career options are at hand for Freddie. The commercial shown immediately after Freddie's body was removed from the ring promised big money and a great future in the exciting world of heating and air conditioning repair. Perhaps, twenty years from now, an older and wiser Freddie will drive up to my house in his panel truck to fix my furnace.

"You know I was the guy who saved Jennifer Love Hewitt from that dude in the raincoat with a hook for a hand."

"Yeah, right. Less talk, more work, buddy. I'm paying $100 per hour for work not conversation."

Defining Moments

The tag line for the movie "American Graffiti" asks "Where were you in the Summer of '62?"

This weekend, the question to those of us of a particular age was, "Where were you in the Summer of '69? At Woodstock? All that peace, love, and sharing. According to the newspapers and magazines, it must have been great. The defining moment for your generation!"

Actually, I was participating in the other, somewhat less-celebrated defining moment for those of my generation lacking a sympathetic draft board that summer - military service. As a Letter to the Editor in Friday's paper pointed out, "Lost in the fine print of celebrating the 40th anniversary of Woodstock are the 109 Americans who died in the Viet Nam War from Aug 15 to 18, 1969. RIP."

If Crosby, Stills and Nash were correct and the Woodstock Nation was "half a million strong", the number of young Americans enjoying their music that day roughly matched the number of young Americans in Viet Nam at the time. Imagine if Woodstock Nation had to remain there for a year's tour of duty and if they suffered casualties at 25 per day or 10,000 per year like our boys in the Nam. If Woodstock Nation continued on, that would truly be a generational defining moment.

The Scientific Method

The current issue of "Time" explores the controversial theory that exercise alone does not result in weight loss. Apparently, exercisers tend to overindulge in calorie-laden foods. Time's cover shows a young lady on a treadmill slathering over a pastry. A trip to Dunkin' Donuts after that gym session is no way to get into swimsuit shape, Missy!

The Scientific Method requires that theories, whether advocated by a prominent national magazine or not, be tested. To validate the "Exercise Makes You Fat" Theory, we need controlled conditions. It's easy enough to set up treadmill sessions to burn a given number of calories on test subjects of varying body masses. The problem is that everyone has different tastes in the "empty" calories to be consumed afterwards. There are glazed donut people, Twinkie people, and probably even Pixie Stick people. Never the twain shall meet.

Fortunately, Domino's Pizza solved the Empty Calorie Enigma. For a limited time, Domino's offers its Bread Bowl Pasta (Carb Heaven! Pasta in cream sauce in a bread bowl) with Lava Crunch Cake (Chocolate cake encasing what appears to be chocolate chunky pudding) for a low, low price. And they deliver! Maybe even to gyms! What better way to prove (or refute) Time's claims than by munching your way through Empty Calorie Heaven right after your workout.

Sign me up for the Test Group. Science has never been so much fun.

Shouts and Whimpers

Amid the shouts (Obama wants to euthanize Grandma!) and whimpers (Papua New Guinea has a lower infant mortality rate than Chicago!) arising from the current Health Care Debate, are two time-proven facts:

1. Health Care Programs will always change and not for the better.
2. People hate change.

In 1978, I endured a five day surgical hospital stay. My corporate medical coverage resulted in a whopping out-of-pocket cost of $10, $2 per day for the TV in my room. In 1988, I endured a 21 day surgical hospital stay. The same corporate medical coverage resulted in a $1,500 bill that had to be paid before I could be released from the tender mercies of the mean nurse/vampire who delighted in drawing blood from me while I slept. I tremble at what my out-of-pocket costs might be today.

What happened between 1978 and 1988? My corporation switched medical insurance carriers several times and with each "Employee Benefits Update", coverage decreased and my contribution increased. Change was invariably bad. I hate change.

The rationale for this is that medical costs increased as well. True enough. In 1978, you had to go to Geisinger in Danville for an MRI. By 1988, there were MRI machines on every other street corner. Those machines and the resulting improved diagnoses don't come cheap. Doesn't matter. Improved diagnostic tool change may be good, but paying for it is bad. I still hate change.

As a reasonable adult, I await the final version of the new Health Care Program before I bring flaming torches and pitchforks to my Congressman's next Town Hall Meeting. I know that change is inevitable. In my gut and based on my past experience, I also feel that this change will not be good. I hate change.

Inspired to Greatness

When Great Britain stood alone against the Nazi scourge and turned back the Luftwaffe in the Battle of Britain, Winston Churchill declared, "This is not the end of the beginning. It is the beginning of the end." His words inspired freedom-loving people to eventual triumph.

Now, with the world's economy remaining in a shambles, we turn to Tiger Woods for similar inspiration. Tiger's triumph in the Buick Open a couple of weeks ago led to this breathless prose from the Associated Press - "When Michigan's battered golf fans needed him most, many have lost their jobs, all will lose their PGA Tour event, Woods rode off as champion in what's expected to be the final Buick Open."

And what has happened in the past two weeks? Inspired by Tiger's triumph, those formerly "battered" Michigan golf fans have come up with an electric car that gets 230 mpg and Ford Fusions are selling like hotcakes under "Cash For Clunkers". All it took to revive the American Auto Industry was to threaten to take away its PGA Tour event!

You can take away an autoworker's job. You can take away his home, bank account, and medical insurance. But never threaten his PGA Tour event.

Our Creator may endow us with the inalienable right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, but that doesn't inspire us to build a better car. The chance to overpay for tickets to a golf tournament at a country club that wouldn't normally let us through its gates except to clean up after its members, the opportunity to wear garish polyester clothing, the thrill of shouting "You Da Man" after a golfer sends a 5 iron to the green - now, that is what will bring Toyota to its knees.

While Tiger may lack Churchill's eloquence and Churchill lacked Tiger's putting stroke, both men inspired a nation to greatness.

Reply For The Ages

There are three classes of replies to typically-asked questions:

1. The polite common response
2. The snappy comeback
3. The exceedingly rare Reply For The Ages

For example, what question is more typical than "How are you?"

Polite Common Response - "Fine. How are you?"
Snappy Comeback - "Better than you." (This originated with a sergeant in my unit in Korea)
Reply For The Ages - Pending

Typical Question - "Is this the end of the check-out line?"

Polite Common Response - "Yes, it is"
Snappy Comeback - "Actually it's an amazing coincidence that all these people are lined up right here facing in the same direction and not moving"
Reply For The Ages - Pending

Typical Question - "Are you excited to appear in Bethlehem?" (Asked of George Thorogood before his appearance at Musikfest)

Polite Common Response - "Yes. I know we have lots of fans here."
Snappy Comeback - "Oh yeah. My idea of a great time is working outdoors in August in front of a bunch of drunks, but I haven't had a hit in 30 years so I've got to tour. What with Internet music piracy my royalties last year were $1.69."
Reply For The Ages - "It's a life-long dream."

The RFTA above was Thorogood's actual response! The college intern conducting the interview couldn't follow up with "Are you serious?" because that would imply that the intern would prefer to be communing with the dolphins down at the shore on this hot August day as opposed to sweating on the mean streets of the Christmas City subsisting on funnel cake, deep-fried Oreos and over-priced beer.

Well done, Mr Thorogood!

Roswell Confidential

Nature provides hints to its mysteries in strange and obscure ways. Sir Isaac Newton observed a falling apple and discovered gravity. Arlen Spector was on some heavy-duty drugs and derived the "Magic Bullet Theory" for the Kennedy assassination.

Today, I watched a TV commercial and figured out what really was found at Roswell, NM back in '47. The perky announcer chided viewers for their reluctance to learn a new language. "With Rosetta Stone software, it's quick and easy. Our software is used by:

The State Department (Makes sense. Those State Department people talk to a lot of them foreigners though the least those people could do is learn to speak good old American English),

The CIA (Makes sense again. Spying must be a whole lot easier if you speak the language)

And NASA. (OMG!!! Why would NASA employees need a second language unless we need to communicate with space aliens? Which language would it be - Romulan or Klingon? Was the "Rosetta Stone" for alien language truly what was found on that "weather balloon wreckage" in Roswell back in '47 and it took until we Earthlings developed personal computers to decipher it? When I send in my $19.95 (includes postage and handling), will I be the first on my block able to communicate with those space aliens when they return to Earth? This offer doesn't even need a "but wait, there's more" bonus. My check is in the mail.)

D'Oh! Moments

The D'Oh! Moment originally popularized by Homer Simpson consists of a foolish action, followed by a "D'Oh" (head slap optional), and completed with a questionably effective remedy.

For example, Homer Homeowner might trip over his backyard grill in the dark, breaking its gas feed line. D'Oh! Homer then flicks his Bic to survey the damage. Ka Boom!

Homer CEO nearly bankrupts his firm via risky highly-leveraged investments in securities that no one understands. The market crashes. D'Oh! Fortunately, Homer's firm is "too big to fail" and the government bails him out.

Jon "Homer" Corzine, NJ Governor signs a law limiting handgun purchases to one gun per month per person. D'Oh! I've got two hands here, Homer. I need a gun for each. The Second Amendment guarantees me the right to clean out Wal-Mart's stock of Glock 9 mm's in one fell swoop if I want. How can I effectively protect my home if I only have one handgun and I have to stop and re-load it while the bad guys just keep on coming?

If "Homer" Corzine were running for re-election as PA governor, signing that Gun Bill would be the same as signing over the lease on the Governor's Mansion. See ya, Home Boy!