The upcoming census will no doubt result in Pennsylvania losing a Congressional seat or two as our population fails to keep out with burgeoning growth in the West and South. Keystone State politicos will lament this state of affairs noting reduced Federal influence and aid as we sink to the level of Wyoming and Delaware (though it may mean a Pennsylvanian as the next Vice President if form holds).
The Lehigh Valley has countered this trend. Some claim our increased population is due to those dreaded New Jersey transplants. I contend that it is due to local folk remaining in the area to avoid anti-"Dutch"itism elsewhere.
The sports results in today's newspaper include the Emmaus vs Salisbury high school rifle match. Emmaus' top scorers were Jared Strawdinger, Tyler Greaser, and Anthony Reichenderfer. Such names cause barely a ripple here the Lehigh Valley where Heffelfingers, Warmkessels, and Sauerzopfs abound, but imagine Jared, Tyler, and Anthony in Army Basic Training. Their Drill Instructor will be unable to pronounce their names and their fellow trainees will bestow uncomplimentary nicknames on them - "Ding Dong" Strawdinger, "Goose" Greaser, or "Derfie" Reichenderfer.
After suffering this humiliation are Jared, Tyler, and Anthony going to tarry in the sunny climes of Ft Jackson, SC? No, it's back to The Land of Fastnachts and Funnel Cakes to set down roots among the Shankweilers and Lindenmoyers! Anti-"Dutch"itism hurts!
Friday, January 29, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
The Bare Necessities
Lee Roy Poole-Smith, age 20 of Bethlehem barricaded himself in his room after police were called to arrest him after he allegedly assaulted his mother.
Back in the day, fugitives would stock their lairs with such necessities as food, drink, weapons, ammo, and some means of body waste disposal for those long stake-outs.
When Lee Roy "went to the mattresses" though, he did it in the 21st century way. Police found him chained to a floor-bolted chair with his trusty TV remote in his hand. "You'll never take me alive, coppers! And while you're trying, I'll keep up to date with the latest celebrity news from Access Hollywood." Lee Roy could survive a lengthy stake-out without food, water, or even a functional toilet, but nothing was going to keep him from "Monday Night RAW". After all, current champion Sheamus, "The Celtic Warrior" was defending his title against John Cena that night.
The police lacked chain cutters but they managed to dissemble the chair and hauled a still chained and seated Lee Roy to the pokey. There was no record of whether Lee Roy got to witness the exciting conclusion of the championship match wherein Randy "The Viper" Orton appeared out of nowhere and rendered both of the participants hors de combat. The Celtic Warrior retained his title by disquaification and John Cena is seething for revenge. Hopefully, Lee Roy's remote works on the prison TV as the saga continues on next week's RAW.
Actually, Lee Roy may be on to something. Connecting one's TV to the Internet would allow "ordering in" of all those stake-out supplies. The delivery people would be made-to-order hostages. Maybe a TV remote in hand is all that 21st century fugitives need. A remote and a good internet connection might be the bare necessities for the modern hold-out.
Back in the day, fugitives would stock their lairs with such necessities as food, drink, weapons, ammo, and some means of body waste disposal for those long stake-outs.
When Lee Roy "went to the mattresses" though, he did it in the 21st century way. Police found him chained to a floor-bolted chair with his trusty TV remote in his hand. "You'll never take me alive, coppers! And while you're trying, I'll keep up to date with the latest celebrity news from Access Hollywood." Lee Roy could survive a lengthy stake-out without food, water, or even a functional toilet, but nothing was going to keep him from "Monday Night RAW". After all, current champion Sheamus, "The Celtic Warrior" was defending his title against John Cena that night.
The police lacked chain cutters but they managed to dissemble the chair and hauled a still chained and seated Lee Roy to the pokey. There was no record of whether Lee Roy got to witness the exciting conclusion of the championship match wherein Randy "The Viper" Orton appeared out of nowhere and rendered both of the participants hors de combat. The Celtic Warrior retained his title by disquaification and John Cena is seething for revenge. Hopefully, Lee Roy's remote works on the prison TV as the saga continues on next week's RAW.
Actually, Lee Roy may be on to something. Connecting one's TV to the Internet would allow "ordering in" of all those stake-out supplies. The delivery people would be made-to-order hostages. Maybe a TV remote in hand is all that 21st century fugitives need. A remote and a good internet connection might be the bare necessities for the modern hold-out.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Football's Popularity Explained
Like most red-blooded Americans, I was glued to the TV last Sunday for "NFL Championship Weekend". After all, for two of the competing teams, "There is no tomorrow." Apparently, the sun did not rise Monday morning in Minnesota or in New York. Old Sol does not spread its beams over losers!
How can one explain the popularity of pro football with the American public? Football has been described as "committee meetings interspersed with violence." What could be more American than that? How we long for the opportunity to shout "Break!" after our Weekly Project Status Meeting, trot over to Accounts Receivable, get down in our three point stance, and commit mayhem on those miscreants.
More to the point, I contend that football's popularity is due to its uniforms - the skin-tight pants that enthrall female (and some male) viewers, the massively-padded shoulders that slenderize the waist and hips, and those cool logo-emblazoned helmets. The difference between football uniforms and those of the other two major sports is like that between a stylish Givenchy gown and the Olsen Twins' shabby chic.
Consider pants. Baseball has gone baggy and gathered at the ankles. The Yankees' CC Sabathia could house a Haitian family inside his pants. Basketball has essentially adopted culottes or "skorts" with knee-length hemlines. Why not add pleats for that Catholic school modest cheerleader look?
Then there are jerseys. Baseball goes with the standard buttoned front which is OK until the team manager bounces out of the dugout and his ample gut spreads wide the gap between buttons exposing his undershirt. Not an attractive sight. Basketball retains the traditional strap-shouldered "wife-beater" top, the better to expose one's tattoos. "Wife-beaters" haven't been en vogue since Brando in "Streetcar Named Desire".
Lastly, baseball helmets seem OK, but who can look at one without imagining it miniaturized and filled with ice cream? That's a fond childhood memory for all of us, but it raises digestive as opposed to competitive juices. Place those macho Eagles wings or those fierce Vikings horns on your hard hat and you're ready to take on the world!
How can one explain the popularity of pro football with the American public? Football has been described as "committee meetings interspersed with violence." What could be more American than that? How we long for the opportunity to shout "Break!" after our Weekly Project Status Meeting, trot over to Accounts Receivable, get down in our three point stance, and commit mayhem on those miscreants.
More to the point, I contend that football's popularity is due to its uniforms - the skin-tight pants that enthrall female (and some male) viewers, the massively-padded shoulders that slenderize the waist and hips, and those cool logo-emblazoned helmets. The difference between football uniforms and those of the other two major sports is like that between a stylish Givenchy gown and the Olsen Twins' shabby chic.
Consider pants. Baseball has gone baggy and gathered at the ankles. The Yankees' CC Sabathia could house a Haitian family inside his pants. Basketball has essentially adopted culottes or "skorts" with knee-length hemlines. Why not add pleats for that Catholic school modest cheerleader look?
Then there are jerseys. Baseball goes with the standard buttoned front which is OK until the team manager bounces out of the dugout and his ample gut spreads wide the gap between buttons exposing his undershirt. Not an attractive sight. Basketball retains the traditional strap-shouldered "wife-beater" top, the better to expose one's tattoos. "Wife-beaters" haven't been en vogue since Brando in "Streetcar Named Desire".
Lastly, baseball helmets seem OK, but who can look at one without imagining it miniaturized and filled with ice cream? That's a fond childhood memory for all of us, but it raises digestive as opposed to competitive juices. Place those macho Eagles wings or those fierce Vikings horns on your hard hat and you're ready to take on the world!
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Nigerian Puppies
Internet users receive periodic pleas from Nigerian princes, political prisoners, churchmen, and lottery winners requesting assistance in getting money out of that benighted land. For our time and effort (plus a small contribution), we are promised a significant financial award along with that warm and fuzzy feeling from performing a mitzvah.
According to a news report last week, we can not only help Nigerian people, but adorable Nigerian puppies as well.. A 54 year old Bethlehem woman wired $450 to Nigeria to bring two AKC-certified puppies to America. Alas, the precious cargo was "held up in transit in London" (Those Brits probably wanted to keep them for themselves). A courier requested $850 more to gain their release.
The woman sensed a scam, refused to pay, and contacted police. But what if it wasn't a scam?
Imagine what those puppies had to go through to get on-line and send the original message. Typing with two fingers (as I do) is tough enough. Typing with four clawed puppy toes is well-nigh impossible.
Having accomplished that, the puppies had to cash the woman's $450 check and purchase airline tickets. Unless Nigerian bank and airline counters are very low, the mere physical act would be remarkable.
Then, there's passing through security. Those eagle-eyed Nigerian airport guards may have let the Christmas Bomber through, but they would be sure to detain puppies attempting to skip the country with god only knows what manner of contraband hidden in their fur.
So now those Nigerian puppies are languishing in British detention. I've seen Dickensian "work houses" for impoverished youth. How can these poor puppies follow Oliver Twist and ask, "Please, sir, may I have more?" They will starve!
Is $850 too much to save adorable puppies from the work house? Let this be on your conscience, Madam!
According to a news report last week, we can not only help Nigerian people, but adorable Nigerian puppies as well.. A 54 year old Bethlehem woman wired $450 to Nigeria to bring two AKC-certified puppies to America. Alas, the precious cargo was "held up in transit in London" (Those Brits probably wanted to keep them for themselves). A courier requested $850 more to gain their release.
The woman sensed a scam, refused to pay, and contacted police. But what if it wasn't a scam?
Imagine what those puppies had to go through to get on-line and send the original message. Typing with two fingers (as I do) is tough enough. Typing with four clawed puppy toes is well-nigh impossible.
Having accomplished that, the puppies had to cash the woman's $450 check and purchase airline tickets. Unless Nigerian bank and airline counters are very low, the mere physical act would be remarkable.
Then, there's passing through security. Those eagle-eyed Nigerian airport guards may have let the Christmas Bomber through, but they would be sure to detain puppies attempting to skip the country with god only knows what manner of contraband hidden in their fur.
So now those Nigerian puppies are languishing in British detention. I've seen Dickensian "work houses" for impoverished youth. How can these poor puppies follow Oliver Twist and ask, "Please, sir, may I have more?" They will starve!
Is $850 too much to save adorable puppies from the work house? Let this be on your conscience, Madam!
Friday, January 22, 2010
What You Need To Know
A popular newscast feature is the Consumer Watchdog. "What You Need To Know".
The intrepid reporters from the Today Show came up with a good one this morning. After an exhaustive investigation, they determined that mail-in buyers pay only about 30% of the true value for their "unwanted gold and jewelry" and that some sellers don't even get their stuff back if they refuse the deal with the buyer claiming that "it got lost in the mail".
In the immortal words of Homer Simpson, "Duh-oh!". It's hard to believe that I would get more for my unwanted gold if I made the effort to go to more than one buyer or if I avoided the middle man and went directly to a smelter. Further, it's hard to believe that a package addressed to "Cash for Gold" or returned from the same outfit would be an attractive pilfering target for the local Artful Dodger.
"Well, Martha, it's time to sell the family car. I'll just mail its title documents to the outfit that has the most commercials on TV and accept whatever they're willing to pay me for it. I'll make it easier for them to pick it up by leaving it outside with the keys in the ignition."
"I don't know, George. The Today Show's Consumer Watchdog says we might get a better deal if we shop it around a little. Who knew?"
What you need to know, indeed.
The intrepid reporters from the Today Show came up with a good one this morning. After an exhaustive investigation, they determined that mail-in buyers pay only about 30% of the true value for their "unwanted gold and jewelry" and that some sellers don't even get their stuff back if they refuse the deal with the buyer claiming that "it got lost in the mail".
In the immortal words of Homer Simpson, "Duh-oh!". It's hard to believe that I would get more for my unwanted gold if I made the effort to go to more than one buyer or if I avoided the middle man and went directly to a smelter. Further, it's hard to believe that a package addressed to "Cash for Gold" or returned from the same outfit would be an attractive pilfering target for the local Artful Dodger.
"Well, Martha, it's time to sell the family car. I'll just mail its title documents to the outfit that has the most commercials on TV and accept whatever they're willing to pay me for it. I'll make it easier for them to pick it up by leaving it outside with the keys in the ignition."
"I don't know, George. The Today Show's Consumer Watchdog says we might get a better deal if we shop it around a little. Who knew?"
What you need to know, indeed.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Fear Factor
The people of Massachusetts have spoken and it is official, "The sky has fallen! Health care is dead. Obama and the Democrats have failed."
Jon Stewart anticipated this development on Monday's Daily Show. He stated, "George W. Bush never had as large a congressional majority as Obama and the Democrats will have even if they lose the Massachusetts seat and he was able to do whatever the (blank) he wanted."
But what did G.W. and the GOP have that Obama and the Dems don't? Fear! Scare the American public and you can get away with anything.
Saddam has weapons of mass destruction honed in on your child's school!
We have to tap your phones and computers (without a warrant) or the Taliban will make your wife wear a burkha!
If we don't keep those terrorists penned up in Guantanamo, they'll be planting IEDs under your Ford F-150.
Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Why not borrow a page from Karl Rove's book and produce a series of TV commercials that show typical American husband Harry coming home to his wife Louise:
Harry - "Well, they down-sized me today. I guess we knew it was coming. I'll get extended unemployment compensation and re-training compensation thanks to the Democrats. What worries me is that when the Company Health Care runs out, we'll have to buy our own and that'll run about $600 per month that we don't have. Still, Rush and the Republicans tell me that it's a small price to pay for the Best Health Care In The World, not to mention avoiding those Death Panels. I'd hate to have a bunch of liberal bureaucrats in Washington decide whether you live or die, Louise."
Louise - "I agree, Harry. It's a lot better to have a bunch of conservative bureaucrats at a for-profit Health Care company decide whether to grant coverage due to my pre-existing condition. We'll probably go bankrupt paying off my medical bills. We'll have to sell the house and live on the streets, but it's the American Way!
Play the Fear Card. It worked for G.W.
Jon Stewart anticipated this development on Monday's Daily Show. He stated, "George W. Bush never had as large a congressional majority as Obama and the Democrats will have even if they lose the Massachusetts seat and he was able to do whatever the (blank) he wanted."
But what did G.W. and the GOP have that Obama and the Dems don't? Fear! Scare the American public and you can get away with anything.
Saddam has weapons of mass destruction honed in on your child's school!
We have to tap your phones and computers (without a warrant) or the Taliban will make your wife wear a burkha!
If we don't keep those terrorists penned up in Guantanamo, they'll be planting IEDs under your Ford F-150.
Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Why not borrow a page from Karl Rove's book and produce a series of TV commercials that show typical American husband Harry coming home to his wife Louise:
Harry - "Well, they down-sized me today. I guess we knew it was coming. I'll get extended unemployment compensation and re-training compensation thanks to the Democrats. What worries me is that when the Company Health Care runs out, we'll have to buy our own and that'll run about $600 per month that we don't have. Still, Rush and the Republicans tell me that it's a small price to pay for the Best Health Care In The World, not to mention avoiding those Death Panels. I'd hate to have a bunch of liberal bureaucrats in Washington decide whether you live or die, Louise."
Louise - "I agree, Harry. It's a lot better to have a bunch of conservative bureaucrats at a for-profit Health Care company decide whether to grant coverage due to my pre-existing condition. We'll probably go bankrupt paying off my medical bills. We'll have to sell the house and live on the streets, but it's the American Way!
Play the Fear Card. It worked for G.W.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Creative Questions
It's not easy being in Corporate Human Resources nowadays. Simple questions to job candidates like, "How old are you?", "Do you have children?", or "What gender are you anyway? That hairdo really confuses me." could expose the company to discrimination lawsuits.
The "HR Specialist" newsletter suggests these "creative" questions. I added what are appropriate (A) and inappropriate (I)responses.
1. What s the most useful criticism you've ever received?
(A) Please save some of those brilliant cost-saving ideas. The company is making too much money this year!
(I) Please take a shower every once in a while. Your body odor is killing the spider plant in the next cubicle.
2. What frustrates you at work and what do you do about it?
(A) The cleaning people turn off the lights when they are done about 2 AM. This frustrated hard-working me until I bought one of those headband-mounted flashlights. Now I can work until dawn.
(I) The cleaning people make too much noise. This frustrated me until I brought in my trusty AK-47. I point it at them and they quiet down considerably.
3. Describe a time you had to sacrifice quality to meet a deadline.
(A) The CEO collapsed right in front of me with acute appendicitis. Realizing that moments mattered, I removed his appendix with my bare hands following instructions from my i-Phone. I love technology! With more time, I'd have sharpened my belt buckle into a scalpel, of course.
(I) The CEO collapsed right in front of me with acute appendicitis. Realizing that moments mattered, I removed his ATM card, made a massive withdrawal and returned it before they hauled him away. I love technology! With more time, I'd have cleaned out all his bank accounts, of course.
4. Tell me about a time when your communication skills had an impact.
(A) The CEO and I were testifying before one of those pesky Congressional committees. They asked why we had flown to Washington on a private jet to ask for a bailout. I saved the day by pointing out that the private jet was fueled exclusively with recycled cooking oil from the Congressman's district! We got the bailout.
(I) The CEO and I were testifying before one of those pesky Congressional committees. They asked why we had flown to Washington on a private jet to ask for a bailout. I pointed out that the private jet was powered exclusively by adorable puppies running on a treadmill. When they got tired we tossed them overboard and put a new team of puppies to work. We tossed the tired, but still adorable puppies directly over pet-loving homes in the Congressman's district! We got the bailout.
Creative questions require creative responses.
The "HR Specialist" newsletter suggests these "creative" questions. I added what are appropriate (A) and inappropriate (I)responses.
1. What s the most useful criticism you've ever received?
(A) Please save some of those brilliant cost-saving ideas. The company is making too much money this year!
(I) Please take a shower every once in a while. Your body odor is killing the spider plant in the next cubicle.
2. What frustrates you at work and what do you do about it?
(A) The cleaning people turn off the lights when they are done about 2 AM. This frustrated hard-working me until I bought one of those headband-mounted flashlights. Now I can work until dawn.
(I) The cleaning people make too much noise. This frustrated me until I brought in my trusty AK-47. I point it at them and they quiet down considerably.
3. Describe a time you had to sacrifice quality to meet a deadline.
(A) The CEO collapsed right in front of me with acute appendicitis. Realizing that moments mattered, I removed his appendix with my bare hands following instructions from my i-Phone. I love technology! With more time, I'd have sharpened my belt buckle into a scalpel, of course.
(I) The CEO collapsed right in front of me with acute appendicitis. Realizing that moments mattered, I removed his ATM card, made a massive withdrawal and returned it before they hauled him away. I love technology! With more time, I'd have cleaned out all his bank accounts, of course.
4. Tell me about a time when your communication skills had an impact.
(A) The CEO and I were testifying before one of those pesky Congressional committees. They asked why we had flown to Washington on a private jet to ask for a bailout. I saved the day by pointing out that the private jet was fueled exclusively with recycled cooking oil from the Congressman's district! We got the bailout.
(I) The CEO and I were testifying before one of those pesky Congressional committees. They asked why we had flown to Washington on a private jet to ask for a bailout. I pointed out that the private jet was powered exclusively by adorable puppies running on a treadmill. When they got tired we tossed them overboard and put a new team of puppies to work. We tossed the tired, but still adorable puppies directly over pet-loving homes in the Congressman's district! We got the bailout.
Creative questions require creative responses.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Gitmo, Illinois
Our very own Congressman Charlie Dent wrote an interesting op-ed piece last week headlined "Closing Guantanamo Bay Would Weaken Our Security". Debate on this issue is certainly timely. Executive Order 13492 mandates closing the Terrorist Detention Facility at Gitmo this month which, of course, is not going to happen.
Charlie lists only one reason for closing Gitmo - "The facility is seen by some as a symbol of torture and as a propaganda tool for al-Quaida." But, Charlie counters, "If it weren't using Gitmo for propaganda purposes, (al-Quaida) would find something else like our religious freedom or women's rights." Further, "This is no Abu Ghraib. While Pennsylvanians struggle to feed their families, detainees get a daily 6,500 calorie diet and most have access to classes, sports, TV, and even video games."
Way to hit the hot buttons there, Charlie! Scum who don't believe in religious freedom or human rights get an all-inclusive "vacation" in a tropical paradise with classes, sports, TV, and video games (not to mention hors d'oevures and an open bar at the Manager's Nightly Reception) all paid for by "Pennsylvanians struggling to feed their families". Of course, the 6,500 daily caloric intake will probably kill them all off eventually. But what a way to go!
Worse yet, Charlie tells us, "President Obama intends to move about 100 of these terrorists from Gitmo, Cuba, 500 miles south of Miami to Thomson, IL (Gitmo II), 150 miles west of Chicago. Charlie concludes, "We have a suitable place for them (the terrorists) at Gitmo. Don't move Gitmo to Illinois."
Good thinking, Charlie. Illinoisans will be beating down the doors for those free classes, sports, TV, video games and lining up for that 6,500 calorie buffet. The terrorists may escape (though I can't see why they would want to) in the confusion.
But seriously, folks, and emotions aside... Even war criminals have the right to a fair, public trial, to confront their accusers and to legal counsel. It's what we did after all our wars. Would a fair, public trial, in-person accusation, and access to defense counsel be as possible in Guantanamo, Cuba as it is in Thomson, Illinois? That is the question.
Until that is decided, this struggling Pennsylvanian wouldn't mind packing my swimsuit and sunscreen for a trip to Gitmo, Cuba. I heard that Lobster Newburg is on the menu tonight.
Charlie lists only one reason for closing Gitmo - "The facility is seen by some as a symbol of torture and as a propaganda tool for al-Quaida." But, Charlie counters, "If it weren't using Gitmo for propaganda purposes, (al-Quaida) would find something else like our religious freedom or women's rights." Further, "This is no Abu Ghraib. While Pennsylvanians struggle to feed their families, detainees get a daily 6,500 calorie diet and most have access to classes, sports, TV, and even video games."
Way to hit the hot buttons there, Charlie! Scum who don't believe in religious freedom or human rights get an all-inclusive "vacation" in a tropical paradise with classes, sports, TV, and video games (not to mention hors d'oevures and an open bar at the Manager's Nightly Reception) all paid for by "Pennsylvanians struggling to feed their families". Of course, the 6,500 daily caloric intake will probably kill them all off eventually. But what a way to go!
Worse yet, Charlie tells us, "President Obama intends to move about 100 of these terrorists from Gitmo, Cuba, 500 miles south of Miami to Thomson, IL (Gitmo II), 150 miles west of Chicago. Charlie concludes, "We have a suitable place for them (the terrorists) at Gitmo. Don't move Gitmo to Illinois."
Good thinking, Charlie. Illinoisans will be beating down the doors for those free classes, sports, TV, video games and lining up for that 6,500 calorie buffet. The terrorists may escape (though I can't see why they would want to) in the confusion.
But seriously, folks, and emotions aside... Even war criminals have the right to a fair, public trial, to confront their accusers and to legal counsel. It's what we did after all our wars. Would a fair, public trial, in-person accusation, and access to defense counsel be as possible in Guantanamo, Cuba as it is in Thomson, Illinois? That is the question.
Until that is decided, this struggling Pennsylvanian wouldn't mind packing my swimsuit and sunscreen for a trip to Gitmo, Cuba. I heard that Lobster Newburg is on the menu tonight.
Friday, January 15, 2010
More Evolved?
The scientific journal "Nature" reported this week that,"The Y chromosome which makes a man male is evolving far faster than the rest of the human genetic code. A new study shows Y chromosomes of humans and chimps are about 30% different while the remainder of our genetic codes differ by a mere 2%."
As a card-carrying human male and long-time chimp observer, I am not terribly surprised. Male humans will occasionally (30% of the time?) re-place the toilet seat lid after use. Male chimps never do. The volume of spilled beer, vomit, and miscellaneous articles of clothing remaining on the floor after a human fraternity party is at least 30% less than the same stuff after a chimp blow-out even accounting for the banana peels. It's estimated that as much as 30% of all human males asked for directions at least once in their lives (though they'll never admit to it). Male chimps would rather drive from Chicago to L.A. by way of Saskatchewan than ask that nice lady how to get to Route 66.
Obviously, this study was completed before the football playoffs. Only human males pay $200 to sit, face-painted and bare-chested ("Gotta support the team!") in sub-freezing temperatures while our simian cousins watch the game in comfort at home. Who is 30% more evolved now, Mister Smarty Pants Human?"
As a card-carrying human male and long-time chimp observer, I am not terribly surprised. Male humans will occasionally (30% of the time?) re-place the toilet seat lid after use. Male chimps never do. The volume of spilled beer, vomit, and miscellaneous articles of clothing remaining on the floor after a human fraternity party is at least 30% less than the same stuff after a chimp blow-out even accounting for the banana peels. It's estimated that as much as 30% of all human males asked for directions at least once in their lives (though they'll never admit to it). Male chimps would rather drive from Chicago to L.A. by way of Saskatchewan than ask that nice lady how to get to Route 66.
Obviously, this study was completed before the football playoffs. Only human males pay $200 to sit, face-painted and bare-chested ("Gotta support the team!") in sub-freezing temperatures while our simian cousins watch the game in comfort at home. Who is 30% more evolved now, Mister Smarty Pants Human?"
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Miley as Spidey?
Sony Pictures announced that they are re-thinking the "Spiderman" movie franchise, turning back the clock to focus on a high school age Peter Parker and giving star Tobey Maguire the boot in the process. The hot question in Hollywood is who will be the new Webslinger - Zac Efron? Nick Jonas? Miley Cyrus in a must-see, gender-bending turn?
This will be "Spiderman 4" and if it follows the path of previous sequels / prequels, trouble may be looming. The "Superman" series went down the tubes as the sequels mounted and Christopher Reeve was no longer the headliner. The "Batman" series tanked as the sequels/prequels mounted and various actors portrayed the Caped Crusader until the latest installment was saved by Heath Ledger as the Joker though no one remembers who played the Dark Knight.
Sony would be wise to look at history. The only movie franchise to maintain its mojo through six entries is "Rocky". The reason for that is probably not whiny Talia Shire as Adrian or irritating Bert Young as Paulie in all six. No, it's that great thespian Sylvester Stallone in the lead role. Sly is not exactly Laurence Olivier, but he can carry a movie franchise.
Modern CGI can do wonders. Surely, Sony can somehow turn Stallone into a teen on the screen. His steroid-infused frame will fill out that red and blue costume nicely. One longs to hear, "Yo, Mary Jane! I did it!" Can Zac Efron or Nick Jonas match that pathos and heart?
Of course, if it is "Spidey 4 - The Musical", all bets are off. If the plot line is "High school student by day - Rock star and Crime Fighter by night, the starring role has to go to Miley.
This will be "Spiderman 4" and if it follows the path of previous sequels / prequels, trouble may be looming. The "Superman" series went down the tubes as the sequels mounted and Christopher Reeve was no longer the headliner. The "Batman" series tanked as the sequels/prequels mounted and various actors portrayed the Caped Crusader until the latest installment was saved by Heath Ledger as the Joker though no one remembers who played the Dark Knight.
Sony would be wise to look at history. The only movie franchise to maintain its mojo through six entries is "Rocky". The reason for that is probably not whiny Talia Shire as Adrian or irritating Bert Young as Paulie in all six. No, it's that great thespian Sylvester Stallone in the lead role. Sly is not exactly Laurence Olivier, but he can carry a movie franchise.
Modern CGI can do wonders. Surely, Sony can somehow turn Stallone into a teen on the screen. His steroid-infused frame will fill out that red and blue costume nicely. One longs to hear, "Yo, Mary Jane! I did it!" Can Zac Efron or Nick Jonas match that pathos and heart?
Of course, if it is "Spidey 4 - The Musical", all bets are off. If the plot line is "High school student by day - Rock star and Crime Fighter by night, the starring role has to go to Miley.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
There Will Be Blood
The quarterly visit from the Bloodmoile was always a highlight in Cubicle World.
Work groups would compete for the highest percentage of blood donors. The boss would sidle up to your desk and say, "Your Annual Performance Review is coming up, and I'd really like to put in a good word for you. I'd also really like to beat out Accounts Payable for the Blood Donor Trophy this time. I know you've had that problem with hepatitis and if you don't mention that hemophilia issue, your pint may put us over the top!"
Actually, the unionized guys from the Shop would win the Trophy every time. Their contract gave them the day off if they donated blood, so they would fill up all the early morning slots and wave derisively as they pulled out of the parking lot on their way home.
This left the late morning slots open and by then, I'd be hungry. The Bloodmobile poster always promised "great snacks and juice". I'd donate a pint of blood and eagerly race to the snack table to find store-bought cookies and what appeared to be Tang. The cookies weren't even real Oreos but some generic Sam's Club brand. My blood was top grade. Why were the cookies and juice Brand X?
They say that all good ideas originate on the West Coast and work their way east. Disneyland, iPhones, and Ronald Reagan come to mind. Here's another. The AP reports, "A Washington State blood center is offering donors a deal - Give a pint of blood. Get a pint of beer. Donors who are at least 21 are given a coupon for a free pint of beer which they must wait four hours to redeem."
Now that beats the crap out of generic Oreos and Tang!
During this era of corporate belt-tightening (except for executive bonuses, of course), one imagines Human Resources announcing, "We really don't have funding for beer at this year's Company Picnic, but if everyone donates blood and saves the coupons, the softball game will be the as alcohol-soaked and hilarious as ever."
Work groups would compete for the highest percentage of blood donors. The boss would sidle up to your desk and say, "Your Annual Performance Review is coming up, and I'd really like to put in a good word for you. I'd also really like to beat out Accounts Payable for the Blood Donor Trophy this time. I know you've had that problem with hepatitis and if you don't mention that hemophilia issue, your pint may put us over the top!"
Actually, the unionized guys from the Shop would win the Trophy every time. Their contract gave them the day off if they donated blood, so they would fill up all the early morning slots and wave derisively as they pulled out of the parking lot on their way home.
This left the late morning slots open and by then, I'd be hungry. The Bloodmobile poster always promised "great snacks and juice". I'd donate a pint of blood and eagerly race to the snack table to find store-bought cookies and what appeared to be Tang. The cookies weren't even real Oreos but some generic Sam's Club brand. My blood was top grade. Why were the cookies and juice Brand X?
They say that all good ideas originate on the West Coast and work their way east. Disneyland, iPhones, and Ronald Reagan come to mind. Here's another. The AP reports, "A Washington State blood center is offering donors a deal - Give a pint of blood. Get a pint of beer. Donors who are at least 21 are given a coupon for a free pint of beer which they must wait four hours to redeem."
Now that beats the crap out of generic Oreos and Tang!
During this era of corporate belt-tightening (except for executive bonuses, of course), one imagines Human Resources announcing, "We really don't have funding for beer at this year's Company Picnic, but if everyone donates blood and saves the coupons, the softball game will be the as alcohol-soaked and hilarious as ever."
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Side Effects
Back in the day, Carter's Little Liver Pills were prominently advertised on TV. There was no mention of side effects and no mention of benefits other than the implied fact that they were, in fact, little and they probably did some good for your ailing liver.
That was then. Nowadays drug advertisements are legally required to list side effects. There's the well-known and somewhat comical "See your doctor for an erection lasting more than four hours". Try explaining that one to little Josh and Tiffany, though it must lead to hilarity during coffee breaks at doctors' offices. "Got another call from Grandpa Jones this morning. He and Grandma must have had a good time last night because he can't get his pants on to go out and milk the cows."
Most side effect warnings are not comical at all and might frighten the potential user. A smoker wanting to quit the habit with the new drug Chantix is warned, "If you develop suicidal thoughts or actions, anxiety, panic, aggression, anger, mania, abnormal sensations, hallucinations, paranoia, or confusion, stop taking Chantix and call your doctor right away."
This would lead to an entirely different "war story" exchanged during that doctors' office coffee break. "Grandma Jones called this morning. Old Grandpa is threatening to jump off the barn roof again and claims that the cows are yelling "Jump! Jump! Jump!" I told her to toss him up a pack of Marlboros and a lighter. This job was a lot easier when all we had to do was explain that Carter's Little Liver Pills aren't really made from liver."
That was then. Nowadays drug advertisements are legally required to list side effects. There's the well-known and somewhat comical "See your doctor for an erection lasting more than four hours". Try explaining that one to little Josh and Tiffany, though it must lead to hilarity during coffee breaks at doctors' offices. "Got another call from Grandpa Jones this morning. He and Grandma must have had a good time last night because he can't get his pants on to go out and milk the cows."
Most side effect warnings are not comical at all and might frighten the potential user. A smoker wanting to quit the habit with the new drug Chantix is warned, "If you develop suicidal thoughts or actions, anxiety, panic, aggression, anger, mania, abnormal sensations, hallucinations, paranoia, or confusion, stop taking Chantix and call your doctor right away."
This would lead to an entirely different "war story" exchanged during that doctors' office coffee break. "Grandma Jones called this morning. Old Grandpa is threatening to jump off the barn roof again and claims that the cows are yelling "Jump! Jump! Jump!" I told her to toss him up a pack of Marlboros and a lighter. This job was a lot easier when all we had to do was explain that Carter's Little Liver Pills aren't really made from liver."
Monday, January 11, 2010
Dream Venue
The legendary band The Who will play the halftime show at the upcoming Super Bowl. Will Pete Townsend destroy his guitar as a musical climax? It's not exactly Janet Jackson's "wardrobe malfunction" or Bruce Springsteen's crotch slide into a camera like Super Bowls past, but it is something to anticipate.
Every band has a dream venue. While the Super Bowl halftime show provides maximum exposure and American Idol can make you the next Carrie Underwood, some bands prefer to play before "their people". Local rockers Pokerface are on a mission "to expose the tyranny and rights violations out of our nation's capital." Their dream venue is the Knob Creek, KY Machine Gun Shoot where "tens of thousands show up for this awesome freedom-loving event."
I love awesome freedom-loving events as much as the next guy so I looked up Knob Creek. Its website states, "The Machine Gun Shoot itself consist of four rounds of firing at a wide variety of appliances, vehicles, pyramids of tires, and barrels of fuel with pyrotechnic charges attached. The pyrotechnic charges are painted orange for the shooter to see. The charges are set off by the impact of the bullets. Creating large and small mushroom clouds and fire balls from hell!! The objective is to destroy everything down range. A wide variety of rare and exotic weaponry will be on display for all to see. Such as quad 50's, mini guns, MG 42's, water cooled Brownings, AK 47's and many others too numerous to mention."
When I think of freedom, creating large and small mushroom clouds and fireballs from hell while destroying everything down range is exactly what our forefathers struggled for in the snows of Valley Forge and on the fields of Gettysburg. Shooting the crap out of a pyramid of tires sends a message to to tyrants in DC who want nothing more than to take my quad 50 machine gun from me.
But what about those of us who don't have a water-cooled Browning sitting in our closet? Knob Creek offers machine gun rentals on Saturday and Sunday. I hope it's "rent to own"!
Does all that noise and vibration from your trusty fully-automatic AK-47 get tiring after a while? Knob Creek offers an ideal change of pace. Flamethrower rentals are available Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Apparently, the "whoosh" of a flamethrower is less disruptive to church services than the rat-tat-tat of an MG-42.
Want that true combat experience? The Subgun Jungle Walk is Friday and Saturday. Just like paintball, but with live ammo and submachine guns! Presumably, it is a target shoot. The liability insurance premiums might be a tad high otherwise.
Best of all, tracer ammunition will be allowed, weather permitting. Firing a machine gun in the dark without tracers is like a Cinemax Late Nite Movie without a topless scene. It's satisfying, but not fulfilling.
The next Knob Creek Machine Gun Shoot is April 9 - 11, 2010. General admission is a mere $10 per day, $5 for kids under 12 (and what grade schooler doesn't dream of creating mushroom clouds and fire balls from hell). It's cheaper than Disney and a whole lot more fun.
Every band has a dream venue. While the Super Bowl halftime show provides maximum exposure and American Idol can make you the next Carrie Underwood, some bands prefer to play before "their people". Local rockers Pokerface are on a mission "to expose the tyranny and rights violations out of our nation's capital." Their dream venue is the Knob Creek, KY Machine Gun Shoot where "tens of thousands show up for this awesome freedom-loving event."
I love awesome freedom-loving events as much as the next guy so I looked up Knob Creek. Its website states, "The Machine Gun Shoot itself consist of four rounds of firing at a wide variety of appliances, vehicles, pyramids of tires, and barrels of fuel with pyrotechnic charges attached. The pyrotechnic charges are painted orange for the shooter to see. The charges are set off by the impact of the bullets. Creating large and small mushroom clouds and fire balls from hell!! The objective is to destroy everything down range. A wide variety of rare and exotic weaponry will be on display for all to see. Such as quad 50's, mini guns, MG 42's, water cooled Brownings, AK 47's and many others too numerous to mention."
When I think of freedom, creating large and small mushroom clouds and fireballs from hell while destroying everything down range is exactly what our forefathers struggled for in the snows of Valley Forge and on the fields of Gettysburg. Shooting the crap out of a pyramid of tires sends a message to to tyrants in DC who want nothing more than to take my quad 50 machine gun from me.
But what about those of us who don't have a water-cooled Browning sitting in our closet? Knob Creek offers machine gun rentals on Saturday and Sunday. I hope it's "rent to own"!
Does all that noise and vibration from your trusty fully-automatic AK-47 get tiring after a while? Knob Creek offers an ideal change of pace. Flamethrower rentals are available Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Apparently, the "whoosh" of a flamethrower is less disruptive to church services than the rat-tat-tat of an MG-42.
Want that true combat experience? The Subgun Jungle Walk is Friday and Saturday. Just like paintball, but with live ammo and submachine guns! Presumably, it is a target shoot. The liability insurance premiums might be a tad high otherwise.
Best of all, tracer ammunition will be allowed, weather permitting. Firing a machine gun in the dark without tracers is like a Cinemax Late Nite Movie without a topless scene. It's satisfying, but not fulfilling.
The next Knob Creek Machine Gun Shoot is April 9 - 11, 2010. General admission is a mere $10 per day, $5 for kids under 12 (and what grade schooler doesn't dream of creating mushroom clouds and fire balls from hell). It's cheaper than Disney and a whole lot more fun.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Elvis at 75
Today would be Elvis Presley's 75th birthday.
For some, it's hard to imagine a 75 year old Elvis. Paul McCartney, Neil Young, and especially Bruce Springsteen can pull off the superannuated rocker thing, but Elvis was more than that to them. There's even a TV commercial running now showing a young, black leather jacket-clad Elvis doing "Jailhouse Rock" and claiming that he changed the face of music just like Richard Pryor changed the face of comedy and Company X is changing the face of financial services or whatever.
I beg to differ. Elvis sold out and I can't forgive him for it. Elvis's first hits, "Hound Dog", "Don't Be Cruel", and "Heartbreak Hotel" came out in 1955 when I was all of 7 years old. Even at that age, I knew that here was music I could believe in. I didn't know that Elvis was plagiarizing black music which no self-respecting radio station in Scranton would even consider playing.. I just knew that "Jailhouse Rock" spoke to me better than "Three Coins in a Fountain".
I loved Elvis and despised his squeaky-clean rival for the airwaves, Pat Boone. White buck shoes and a cardigan sweater, come on now! Give me tight jeans, a biker jacket, and sideburns (as soon as I could grow them).
Before I could grow sideburns though, Elvis went mainstream. For a decade and a half, he put out execrable movies, "Kid Galahad", "It Happened at the World's Fair", "Girls! Girls! Girls!" and the like. He became a slightly-soiled Pat Boone, now palatable to America. He kept the sideburns and the DA haircut, but wore the cardigan sweater when he belted out "Do The Clam" to woo Shelley Fabares in "Clambake". I'll never forget those stirring lyrics:
"You can't get your heart to swim
On the outside looking in.
Aren't you glad that you found out
What the Clam is all about?"
Elvis sold out, indeed. Maybe if it hadn't been for Elvis, America would never have opened itself to Chuck Berry or Otis Redding. I like to think that even if Pat Boone had been the Original King of Rock 'n Roll, Chuck and Otis would have eventually found their way onto the airwaves.
For some, it's hard to imagine a 75 year old Elvis. Paul McCartney, Neil Young, and especially Bruce Springsteen can pull off the superannuated rocker thing, but Elvis was more than that to them. There's even a TV commercial running now showing a young, black leather jacket-clad Elvis doing "Jailhouse Rock" and claiming that he changed the face of music just like Richard Pryor changed the face of comedy and Company X is changing the face of financial services or whatever.
I beg to differ. Elvis sold out and I can't forgive him for it. Elvis's first hits, "Hound Dog", "Don't Be Cruel", and "Heartbreak Hotel" came out in 1955 when I was all of 7 years old. Even at that age, I knew that here was music I could believe in. I didn't know that Elvis was plagiarizing black music which no self-respecting radio station in Scranton would even consider playing.. I just knew that "Jailhouse Rock" spoke to me better than "Three Coins in a Fountain".
I loved Elvis and despised his squeaky-clean rival for the airwaves, Pat Boone. White buck shoes and a cardigan sweater, come on now! Give me tight jeans, a biker jacket, and sideburns (as soon as I could grow them).
Before I could grow sideburns though, Elvis went mainstream. For a decade and a half, he put out execrable movies, "Kid Galahad", "It Happened at the World's Fair", "Girls! Girls! Girls!" and the like. He became a slightly-soiled Pat Boone, now palatable to America. He kept the sideburns and the DA haircut, but wore the cardigan sweater when he belted out "Do The Clam" to woo Shelley Fabares in "Clambake". I'll never forget those stirring lyrics:
"You can't get your heart to swim
On the outside looking in.
Aren't you glad that you found out
What the Clam is all about?"
Elvis sold out, indeed. Maybe if it hadn't been for Elvis, America would never have opened itself to Chuck Berry or Otis Redding. I like to think that even if Pat Boone had been the Original King of Rock 'n Roll, Chuck and Otis would have eventually found their way onto the airwaves.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Lightning Striking Again
What is a better Christmas gift for the cubicle dweller than a desktop calendar? He will think of you every day as he rips off another page and especially when he reveals a little-known fact relevant to the new day.
There are desktop calendars for all interests - those devoted to a particular sports team (On this day, Phillies slugger Willie Montanez personally consumed an entire bag of sunflower seeds) or dog breed (Alsatian mountain hound Fritizie rescued five trapped climbers on Mont Blanc today in 1742).
If you really don't know the calendar recipient, stick with an interest common to everyone - the weather. These are actual weather trivia facts from a 2010 calendar with editorial comment:
Men are the victims of 85% of lightning strikes. (This explains the propagation of the species. Those stupid enough to run about in a thunderstorm do not survive to breed.)
Lightning strike survivors have trouble with short term memory. (What is that flash in the sky? Is it dangerous? Should I let go of this tall pointed metal object?)
Lightining may strike the same place repeatedly in a few seconds. ( My long term memory tells me that lightning never strikes twice in the same place. C-R-A-C-K! What was I saying?)
The odds of being struck by lightning are about 1 in 800,000. (My short term memory is coming back. I'm a guy so those odds are actually 1 in 400,000. If I live to be 80 years old, that's about 30,000 days so my actual odds of being struck by lightning in any particular day are about 1 in 13!)
That is scary. Next year, I want the desktop calendar with facts about cuddly kittens.
There are desktop calendars for all interests - those devoted to a particular sports team (On this day, Phillies slugger Willie Montanez personally consumed an entire bag of sunflower seeds) or dog breed (Alsatian mountain hound Fritizie rescued five trapped climbers on Mont Blanc today in 1742).
If you really don't know the calendar recipient, stick with an interest common to everyone - the weather. These are actual weather trivia facts from a 2010 calendar with editorial comment:
Men are the victims of 85% of lightning strikes. (This explains the propagation of the species. Those stupid enough to run about in a thunderstorm do not survive to breed.)
Lightning strike survivors have trouble with short term memory. (What is that flash in the sky? Is it dangerous? Should I let go of this tall pointed metal object?)
Lightining may strike the same place repeatedly in a few seconds. ( My long term memory tells me that lightning never strikes twice in the same place. C-R-A-C-K! What was I saying?)
The odds of being struck by lightning are about 1 in 800,000. (My short term memory is coming back. I'm a guy so those odds are actually 1 in 400,000. If I live to be 80 years old, that's about 30,000 days so my actual odds of being struck by lightning in any particular day are about 1 in 13!)
That is scary. Next year, I want the desktop calendar with facts about cuddly kittens.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Bowl Musings
The college football bowl season mercifully comes to an end this week. Even this avid pigskin fan is overwhelmed by thirty plus games over the past fortnight. As the color and pageantry of Bowl Season 2010 fades into history, three items stick in my mind:
1. Marching band uniforms must evolve from Napoleonic tunics with bucket hats topped by a feather plume. Nine of ten bands resemble the Mexican Army marching on the Alamo. Let's get into the 21st century, people! Nobody wears spats anymore. Stanford's band has no uniform at all. The kids either wear what they would to class or dress in costume. This Stanfordian free-thinking resulted in Hewlett-Packard and Google which is good and a tree for a mascot which is not so good.
2. The University of Oregon recruits and gives scholarships to its cheerleaders. No longer is a role in the latest direct-to-video incarnation of "Bring It On" the sole career dream for high school yell queen. With great power (or a scholarship) comes great responsibility though. In the Rose Bowl, the Oregon "cheerios" featured the bare midriff look. Their Ohio State counterparts went with the traditional mid-western sensibility of sweater and pleated skirt. Develop that dreaded "belly roll" as part of the "Freshman 15" and lose your scholarship at Oregon! Gain a few pounds after a semester of keggers and cafeteria food at Ohio State and the sweater hides all.
3. Starting football players are "introduced" with a quick scrawl on the TV screen listing name, position, class year, and home town. As expected, most players representing the University of Florida come from Florida, Ohio Staters from Ohio, etc. Then, there's Boise State. Idaho is not exactly California when it comes to putting out high school gridiron phenoms. To fill thir roster, Boise's coaching staff recruited successfully in the Golden State. "Hey, you want to see snow and check out where Brokeback Mountain was filmed? Come to Boise" apparently worked. What surprised me was Boise's best defensive back was a native of Piscataway, NJ. What would bring a kid from North Jersey to the wilds of Idaho? "OK, you've seen snow. Come to Boise, son, and I'll guarantee you all the potatoes you can eat. Try finding straight-out-of-the-ground tubers in Piscataway!"
1. Marching band uniforms must evolve from Napoleonic tunics with bucket hats topped by a feather plume. Nine of ten bands resemble the Mexican Army marching on the Alamo. Let's get into the 21st century, people! Nobody wears spats anymore. Stanford's band has no uniform at all. The kids either wear what they would to class or dress in costume. This Stanfordian free-thinking resulted in Hewlett-Packard and Google which is good and a tree for a mascot which is not so good.
2. The University of Oregon recruits and gives scholarships to its cheerleaders. No longer is a role in the latest direct-to-video incarnation of "Bring It On" the sole career dream for high school yell queen. With great power (or a scholarship) comes great responsibility though. In the Rose Bowl, the Oregon "cheerios" featured the bare midriff look. Their Ohio State counterparts went with the traditional mid-western sensibility of sweater and pleated skirt. Develop that dreaded "belly roll" as part of the "Freshman 15" and lose your scholarship at Oregon! Gain a few pounds after a semester of keggers and cafeteria food at Ohio State and the sweater hides all.
3. Starting football players are "introduced" with a quick scrawl on the TV screen listing name, position, class year, and home town. As expected, most players representing the University of Florida come from Florida, Ohio Staters from Ohio, etc. Then, there's Boise State. Idaho is not exactly California when it comes to putting out high school gridiron phenoms. To fill thir roster, Boise's coaching staff recruited successfully in the Golden State. "Hey, you want to see snow and check out where Brokeback Mountain was filmed? Come to Boise" apparently worked. What surprised me was Boise's best defensive back was a native of Piscataway, NJ. What would bring a kid from North Jersey to the wilds of Idaho? "OK, you've seen snow. Come to Boise, son, and I'll guarantee you all the potatoes you can eat. Try finding straight-out-of-the-ground tubers in Piscataway!"
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Joe "The Plumber" Limbaugh
Our boy Rush Limbaugh was hospitalized for chest pains last week. Rush reported, "They found absolutely nothing wrong. No arterial disease, no coronary disease whatsoever." He also managed some political commentary, "I don't think there's one thing wrong with our health care system."
Of course, the current health care system works for multi-millionaires like Rush. On the other hand, imagine if his identical twin, Joe "The Plumber" Limbaugh applied for health insurance today:
"Joe, I see that you just lost your job and no longer have health insurance. You had chest pains last week. That';s a pre-existing condition. Strike one! You're overweight and smoke cigars. That's strike two! You are a recovering Oxycontin addict. That's strike three! No health insurance for you, Mr Limbaugh, unless, of course, you're willing to pay more than $2,000 per month."
"On the other hand, if you can keep those chest pains at bay until you turn 65 and become eligible for Medicare, that horribly inefficient government-sponsored program will allow you to get treatment. We private insurers wish you well."
America needs to keep its political commentators healthy. A few plumbers more or less don't matter.
Of course, the current health care system works for multi-millionaires like Rush. On the other hand, imagine if his identical twin, Joe "The Plumber" Limbaugh applied for health insurance today:
"Joe, I see that you just lost your job and no longer have health insurance. You had chest pains last week. That';s a pre-existing condition. Strike one! You're overweight and smoke cigars. That's strike two! You are a recovering Oxycontin addict. That's strike three! No health insurance for you, Mr Limbaugh, unless, of course, you're willing to pay more than $2,000 per month."
"On the other hand, if you can keep those chest pains at bay until you turn 65 and become eligible for Medicare, that horribly inefficient government-sponsored program will allow you to get treatment. We private insurers wish you well."
America needs to keep its political commentators healthy. A few plumbers more or less don't matter.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Conveyor Belt of Love
Further proving that no one ever went broke underestimating the taste of the American public, ABC will televise "The Conveyor Belt of Love" tonight. The TV Listings blurb states, "Five women each choose a date from among thirty men presented to them on a conveyor belt."
One imagines the five lucky women clad in white smocks and sanitary hairnets standing alongside the belt efficiently wrapping packages of frozen hamburger when Steve Stunning (presumably unfrozen) rolls by to whisk them off for an evening of dining and dancing. In a cruel, but dramatic twist, one of the women mistakenly takes a Value Pack of ground chuck off the conveyor instead of Bachelor Chuck and spends a lonesome evening browning and sauteing.
Trauma potentially awaits the bachelors as well. After all, there are thirty of them and only five women. To build drama, the young ladies might slip paper strips into the pockets of each suitor as he passes by on the conveyor, much like inspectors in a garment factory. Tension builds as the bachelors reach into their pockets and pull out slips that read, "Irregular. Ship to factory outlet" or "Inspected and approved by #3. Your limo awaits!"
The actual procedure is potentially even more traumatic for the guys. According to The Hollywood Reporter, "If a woman is interested in someone, that man will step aside and wait as the rest of the men go by. But if another man comes by on the belt that seems better than that woman's first choice, she can swap out the man waiting off of the belt as many times as she wants until the last man has passed by." Talk about an ego deflator!
But fate can deliver a cruel twist. "If two or more of the women are interested in the same man, the tables turn and the man on the conveyor belt gets to choose which one he would like to wait for."
"So I wasn't good enough for you on the first trip down the conveyor? I choose Bachelorette #2!"
If this is what 21st century courtship has become, give me Jane Austen. "Pride and Prejudice" and "Sense and Sensibility" have devolved into "Conveyor and Crassness".
One imagines the five lucky women clad in white smocks and sanitary hairnets standing alongside the belt efficiently wrapping packages of frozen hamburger when Steve Stunning (presumably unfrozen) rolls by to whisk them off for an evening of dining and dancing. In a cruel, but dramatic twist, one of the women mistakenly takes a Value Pack of ground chuck off the conveyor instead of Bachelor Chuck and spends a lonesome evening browning and sauteing.
Trauma potentially awaits the bachelors as well. After all, there are thirty of them and only five women. To build drama, the young ladies might slip paper strips into the pockets of each suitor as he passes by on the conveyor, much like inspectors in a garment factory. Tension builds as the bachelors reach into their pockets and pull out slips that read, "Irregular. Ship to factory outlet" or "Inspected and approved by #3. Your limo awaits!"
The actual procedure is potentially even more traumatic for the guys. According to The Hollywood Reporter, "If a woman is interested in someone, that man will step aside and wait as the rest of the men go by. But if another man comes by on the belt that seems better than that woman's first choice, she can swap out the man waiting off of the belt as many times as she wants until the last man has passed by." Talk about an ego deflator!
But fate can deliver a cruel twist. "If two or more of the women are interested in the same man, the tables turn and the man on the conveyor belt gets to choose which one he would like to wait for."
"So I wasn't good enough for you on the first trip down the conveyor? I choose Bachelorette #2!"
If this is what 21st century courtship has become, give me Jane Austen. "Pride and Prejudice" and "Sense and Sensibility" have devolved into "Conveyor and Crassness".
Friday, January 1, 2010
Tournament of Whatever
For more than 100 years, Pasadena, CA has held the Tournament of Roses Parade and reaped the benefits of tourist dollars. As we are constantly reminded during the telecast, every square inch of every float must be covered with vegetative matter, most of it locally grown, providing an even greater impetus to the local economy.
It's time for the Lehigh Valley to initiate our very own New Year's traditions, sparking tourism while bringing our local products national attention.
Easton could begin a Tournament of Crayons Parade at Center Square, each float covered with colorful wax. The Tournament Queen and her Court need not be limited to fresh-faced youth as in Pasadena. A few dabs of Crayola here and there will allow local matrons to maintain that youthful glow for the cameras. There's no age discrimination at the confluence of the Delaware and Lehigh!
Bethlehem missed its chance for the Tournament of Steel. The Kremlin's May Day Parades of armored vehicles would pale in comparison to whimsical floats plated in good old Bethlehem steel if it were still made here. The Christmas City could now sponsor the Tournament of Casinos Parade. Floats would glisten with multi-colored casino chips wetted with the tears of despondent gamblers. The Tournament Queen and her Court would be casino waitresses offering free drinks to the "high rollers" lining the parade route.
Allentown, as the capital of Pennsylvania Dutch culture, could capitalize on its heritage with the Tournament of Fastnachts Parade. Each float would be drawn by a team of groundhogs and be covered entirely by lard-fried potato doughnuts. Multi-colored powdered sugar would allow float designers' imagination to soar. January weather wouldn't impact these beauties. Fastnachts are rock-like even at room temperature.
The Fastnacht Tournament Queen could be chosen by a competitive eating contest. The candidate consuming the most fastnachts in ten minutes (washed down with A-Treat soda, of course) would gain not only the coveted Funnel Cake Tiara but a complimentary stomach pump at Lehigh Valley Hospital - Cedar Crest.
Look out Pasadena, here comes the Lehigh Valley!
It's time for the Lehigh Valley to initiate our very own New Year's traditions, sparking tourism while bringing our local products national attention.
Easton could begin a Tournament of Crayons Parade at Center Square, each float covered with colorful wax. The Tournament Queen and her Court need not be limited to fresh-faced youth as in Pasadena. A few dabs of Crayola here and there will allow local matrons to maintain that youthful glow for the cameras. There's no age discrimination at the confluence of the Delaware and Lehigh!
Bethlehem missed its chance for the Tournament of Steel. The Kremlin's May Day Parades of armored vehicles would pale in comparison to whimsical floats plated in good old Bethlehem steel if it were still made here. The Christmas City could now sponsor the Tournament of Casinos Parade. Floats would glisten with multi-colored casino chips wetted with the tears of despondent gamblers. The Tournament Queen and her Court would be casino waitresses offering free drinks to the "high rollers" lining the parade route.
Allentown, as the capital of Pennsylvania Dutch culture, could capitalize on its heritage with the Tournament of Fastnachts Parade. Each float would be drawn by a team of groundhogs and be covered entirely by lard-fried potato doughnuts. Multi-colored powdered sugar would allow float designers' imagination to soar. January weather wouldn't impact these beauties. Fastnachts are rock-like even at room temperature.
The Fastnacht Tournament Queen could be chosen by a competitive eating contest. The candidate consuming the most fastnachts in ten minutes (washed down with A-Treat soda, of course) would gain not only the coveted Funnel Cake Tiara but a complimentary stomach pump at Lehigh Valley Hospital - Cedar Crest.
Look out Pasadena, here comes the Lehigh Valley!
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