I walked past the local playground this morning and noticed something that set my Cranky Senior Citizen juices flowing. Loads of freshly-groomed sand sat beneath the sliding board and swings. We are molly-coddling our kids nowadays. First, it was car seats, then bicycle helmets, and now we're afraid that Tyler and Tiffany will skin their knees at the playground.
How are today's kids to experience the joy of soaring off the swings, skidding across asphalt paving, shredding their clothes, and picking chunks of gravel out of their bleeding brush burns? An asphalt-encrusted scab was the macho tattoo of yesteryear. Unlike the real tattoos that kids get today, it disappeared before age, gravity, and one-too-many beers caused it to sag embarrassingly.
The sand bed at the foot of the slide would slow down that final burst of speed that enabled us to run up the board and just barely reach the top. It was the defining mark of Big Kid Status to surmount the big sliding board. Today's mark of Big Kid Status is achieving mastery of "Grand Theft Auto".
Assuming they can tear themselves away from their video games, the "best and brightest" modern kids might scatter that sand at the bottom the slide on its surface and encourage their naive younger siblings to slide down a few times, polishing the surface for maximum speed before they take over. We would have done the same back in the day except it was a long walk to the Jersey shore for sand. We ingeniously lubricated the sliding board surface with a vigorous rub of waxed paper. Mom always wrapped out lunchtime sandwich in waxed paper, so using it on the slide was an early form of recycling.
Placing a sand cushion beneath playground equipment leads to kids getting tattoos, achieving status with video games instead of healthy exercise, and wasting our precious natural resources. Let's keep our playgrounds on asphalt where they belong.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Bike to Work Day
May is National Bike Month and its sponsor, the League of American Bicyclists, designated last Friday as Bike to Work Day.
Alas, it didn't really catch on. Route 22 was not jammed with bicyclists in spandex pedaling their way to work, laptops securely fastened to the handlebars, cell phones to their ears. By the way, don't text and pedal. A distracted bicyclist can easily become an unwilling hood ornament on a speeding 18-wheeler.
Perhaps the reason why Bike to Work Day failed was a lack of fashionable accessories. For women, the League of American Bicyclists recommends:
A skirt garter - Skirts are a summer office staple, but they make biking to work a gauntlet of leering passers-by. Simply fasten an elastic skirt garter to your leg and clip it to your skirt and it won't fly up when that redneck in the pick-up truck breezes by you in the passing lane. The skirt garter's Scottish cousin, the kilt garter, has protected the modesty of Highlanders for years. It was endorsed by Mel Gibson in his "Braveheart" days.
A helmet overlay - No one looks good in a bicycle helmet. You might as well insert your head in half of a hollowed-out bowling ball. And does anyone really believe that the little "wing" on the back really gives you downdraft and allows greater rear wheel traction (and hence speed)? Now, if bicyclists could wear a Darth Vader - type helmet, they would not only get head protection but they could intimidate motorists not unlike rogue motorcyclists. For the ladies, the League recommends a fabric helmet overlay that transforms your helmet outline to a bucket hat with brim. After all, Queen Elizabeth wears that sort of hat all the time. It must be the height of fashion.
Guys are not forgotten in the realm of bicycling fashion accessories:
Cycling shoes - These beauties have an indent on the sole to lock on to your pedals and a stiffening plate for efficient cycling. The only side effect is that wearers tip forward when walking. "Did the boss cycle to work today or is he leaning into the wind because of a three martini lunch?"
Biking Trousers - Spandex shorts do not comply with most Corporate Casual dress codes. The bicycle commuter can opt for these trousers with built in clips to keep them from flapping into the chain and with reflecting panels for safety. "What's with these sparkly lights? Is that Charlie the Biker from Accounting walking down the hallway or did someone turn on the disco ball again?"
Biking Shirt - Most workplaces do not have locker and shower facilities. Bike commuting in summer can be a sweaty proposition. Enter the Biking Shirt. It is not only lightweight and wrinkle-resistant, but it features "sweat wicking" material and has a mesh panel in the back shoulder area so all that perspiration can migrate there and evaporate away. The mesh panel can then be covered with a snap-fastened matching fabric. "Charlie, please snap on your mesh panel cover! I don't care if you're not done sweating. Your back hair is grossing out our best customer."
Maybe Bike to Work Day needs a bit more than fashion accessories to catch on.
Alas, it didn't really catch on. Route 22 was not jammed with bicyclists in spandex pedaling their way to work, laptops securely fastened to the handlebars, cell phones to their ears. By the way, don't text and pedal. A distracted bicyclist can easily become an unwilling hood ornament on a speeding 18-wheeler.
Perhaps the reason why Bike to Work Day failed was a lack of fashionable accessories. For women, the League of American Bicyclists recommends:
A skirt garter - Skirts are a summer office staple, but they make biking to work a gauntlet of leering passers-by. Simply fasten an elastic skirt garter to your leg and clip it to your skirt and it won't fly up when that redneck in the pick-up truck breezes by you in the passing lane. The skirt garter's Scottish cousin, the kilt garter, has protected the modesty of Highlanders for years. It was endorsed by Mel Gibson in his "Braveheart" days.
A helmet overlay - No one looks good in a bicycle helmet. You might as well insert your head in half of a hollowed-out bowling ball. And does anyone really believe that the little "wing" on the back really gives you downdraft and allows greater rear wheel traction (and hence speed)? Now, if bicyclists could wear a Darth Vader - type helmet, they would not only get head protection but they could intimidate motorists not unlike rogue motorcyclists. For the ladies, the League recommends a fabric helmet overlay that transforms your helmet outline to a bucket hat with brim. After all, Queen Elizabeth wears that sort of hat all the time. It must be the height of fashion.
Guys are not forgotten in the realm of bicycling fashion accessories:
Cycling shoes - These beauties have an indent on the sole to lock on to your pedals and a stiffening plate for efficient cycling. The only side effect is that wearers tip forward when walking. "Did the boss cycle to work today or is he leaning into the wind because of a three martini lunch?"
Biking Trousers - Spandex shorts do not comply with most Corporate Casual dress codes. The bicycle commuter can opt for these trousers with built in clips to keep them from flapping into the chain and with reflecting panels for safety. "What's with these sparkly lights? Is that Charlie the Biker from Accounting walking down the hallway or did someone turn on the disco ball again?"
Biking Shirt - Most workplaces do not have locker and shower facilities. Bike commuting in summer can be a sweaty proposition. Enter the Biking Shirt. It is not only lightweight and wrinkle-resistant, but it features "sweat wicking" material and has a mesh panel in the back shoulder area so all that perspiration can migrate there and evaporate away. The mesh panel can then be covered with a snap-fastened matching fabric. "Charlie, please snap on your mesh panel cover! I don't care if you're not done sweating. Your back hair is grossing out our best customer."
Maybe Bike to Work Day needs a bit more than fashion accessories to catch on.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
If a Tree Falls
After Tuscaloosa and Joplin, tornadoes are on everyone's mind. What to do when a twister is bearing down? Retreat to the storm cellar? Is a regular cellar with a few windows good enough? Climb in the bath tub? There may not be room for all family members plus pets. Frankly, I'd rather stretch out next to Fido than Aunt Sally. Fido smells better. How about being pulled up by the twister, house and all, and landing in Oz?
Last night, a funnel cloud passed over, but thankfully did not touch down on, the Lehigh Valley. 68 mph winds did rush past our humble homestead though. That crack we heard while huddled in the basement was not lightning, but the death throes of a good portion of the aged maple tree in our front yard. When the worst of the rain had passed, we cleared it from the street as best we could and awaited morning light to finish the job. There was no sign of a deceased, shriveled-up Wicked Witch.
Back in the 1950s, neighbors pulled together in time of need. Nowadays, we only see neighbors when we pull out of our garages simultaneously and exchange nods. I'm pleased to report that neighborly cooperation is not dead in the new millennium. John from across the street bravely pitched in to hack, saw, and cut the storm's detritus. Everyone who walked or drove by offered to help. It restored my faith in human goodness. The Amish may have their cooperative barn raisings, but we suburbanites match that selflessness when a tree falls.
By the way, no one actually saw the tree fall, but I can answer the philosophical question that it certainly made one helluva noise when it did.
Lumberjacking is hard work. Just as I was reaching the limits of my endurance, a Township Public Works truck pulled up. "This isn't a township-owned tree and, thanks to your efforts, it's not blocking the street any more, but I'll tell you what. After we do some clean-up in the parks and such, we'll come by with our equipment and remove that for you."
Those were the most welcome words spoken since Auntie Em called Dorothy out of her daze.
First the neighbors pitch in to help, then our civil servants come through. That poor old tree brought out the best in human nature.
Last night, a funnel cloud passed over, but thankfully did not touch down on, the Lehigh Valley. 68 mph winds did rush past our humble homestead though. That crack we heard while huddled in the basement was not lightning, but the death throes of a good portion of the aged maple tree in our front yard. When the worst of the rain had passed, we cleared it from the street as best we could and awaited morning light to finish the job. There was no sign of a deceased, shriveled-up Wicked Witch.
Back in the 1950s, neighbors pulled together in time of need. Nowadays, we only see neighbors when we pull out of our garages simultaneously and exchange nods. I'm pleased to report that neighborly cooperation is not dead in the new millennium. John from across the street bravely pitched in to hack, saw, and cut the storm's detritus. Everyone who walked or drove by offered to help. It restored my faith in human goodness. The Amish may have their cooperative barn raisings, but we suburbanites match that selflessness when a tree falls.
By the way, no one actually saw the tree fall, but I can answer the philosophical question that it certainly made one helluva noise when it did.
Lumberjacking is hard work. Just as I was reaching the limits of my endurance, a Township Public Works truck pulled up. "This isn't a township-owned tree and, thanks to your efforts, it's not blocking the street any more, but I'll tell you what. After we do some clean-up in the parks and such, we'll come by with our equipment and remove that for you."
Those were the most welcome words spoken since Auntie Em called Dorothy out of her daze.
First the neighbors pitch in to help, then our civil servants come through. That poor old tree brought out the best in human nature.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Goodbye, Ronald
No one is immune in this Era of Downsizing - even Ronald McDonald.
Last week, a group called Corporate Accountability International petitioned McDonald's to scrap the iconic clown with full-page newspaper ads. "We ask that you heed our concern and retire your marketing promotions for food high in salt, fat, sugar, and calories to children whatever form they take - from Ronald McDonald to toy giveaways."
A McDonald's press release replied that Ronald is "a force for good". It claimed that Ronald is "a balanced, active lifestyles ambassador, an active athletic clown who plays soccer, shoots hoops, and encourages kids to make healthy lifestyle choices." The Golden Arches note that he is the most famous fast-food mascot beating out Jared the Subway Guy and the Burger King".
Still, one imagines the scene at McDonald's World Headquarters when Ronald is given the inevitable boot:
"Ronald, it is time to pack up your personal belongings and hand in your ID Badge and Parking Pass. The jackbooted Security Guard is here to make sure you don't take any corporate property out the door with you. When we ditched Mayor McCheese, he took a stapler and the Hamburglar absconded with boxes of copier paper."
"Why me, boss? Didn't you just tell the press that I'm a force for good and more popular than Subway Jared or the Burger King?"
"Force for good? Habitat for Humanity is "good", but doesn't make enough profits to keep their CEO in private jets and tax-free offshore investments. This is American Capitalism, son! Good has nothing to do with it. As for Jared and the BK, bear in mind that a Cockney-accented, animated talking lizard is the most popular corporate spokesman nowadays. Popularity is merely a matter of exposure. You will be forgotten quicker than Speedy Alka-Seltzer."
"But, boss what am I to do now? I'm 48 years old and pushing burgers and fries is all I know. Can I stay at a Ronald McDonald House until I find something else?"
"Sorry, Ronald. We gave Grimace a temporary job as a turn-down maid at a Ronald McDonald House and he kept spilling the fries when he put them on our guest's pillows. The grease and salt penetrated our guest's scalps and they ended up in the hospital worse off than their sick kids. We had to move a ton of Shamrock Shakes to pay them off."
"I hate to threaten you, boss. If you let me go, I'll reveal the formula for the Big Mac Special Sauce."
"Go ahead, Ronald. Everyone knows that the "Special Sauce" is Thousand Island Dressing. Shout it from the rooftops if you want. But if you do, we have lots of high-powered lawyers here with nothing to do who would love to sue you for revealing trade secrets. We also have a few friends who have molds for very large concrete overshoes and would be only too happy to fit you for a pair and take you diving in Lake Michigan. By the way, have you heard from Mayor McCheese lately? He went for a boat trip with our friends a while ago."
And so it ends. Crestfallen, Ronald removes the make-up, turns in the yellow jumper and fades into history with Bucky Beaver, The Jolly Green Giant, Mr Whipple, The Maytag Repairman, and so many advertising icons of the past
Last week, a group called Corporate Accountability International petitioned McDonald's to scrap the iconic clown with full-page newspaper ads. "We ask that you heed our concern and retire your marketing promotions for food high in salt, fat, sugar, and calories to children whatever form they take - from Ronald McDonald to toy giveaways."
A McDonald's press release replied that Ronald is "a force for good". It claimed that Ronald is "a balanced, active lifestyles ambassador, an active athletic clown who plays soccer, shoots hoops, and encourages kids to make healthy lifestyle choices." The Golden Arches note that he is the most famous fast-food mascot beating out Jared the Subway Guy and the Burger King".
Still, one imagines the scene at McDonald's World Headquarters when Ronald is given the inevitable boot:
"Ronald, it is time to pack up your personal belongings and hand in your ID Badge and Parking Pass. The jackbooted Security Guard is here to make sure you don't take any corporate property out the door with you. When we ditched Mayor McCheese, he took a stapler and the Hamburglar absconded with boxes of copier paper."
"Why me, boss? Didn't you just tell the press that I'm a force for good and more popular than Subway Jared or the Burger King?"
"Force for good? Habitat for Humanity is "good", but doesn't make enough profits to keep their CEO in private jets and tax-free offshore investments. This is American Capitalism, son! Good has nothing to do with it. As for Jared and the BK, bear in mind that a Cockney-accented, animated talking lizard is the most popular corporate spokesman nowadays. Popularity is merely a matter of exposure. You will be forgotten quicker than Speedy Alka-Seltzer."
"But, boss what am I to do now? I'm 48 years old and pushing burgers and fries is all I know. Can I stay at a Ronald McDonald House until I find something else?"
"Sorry, Ronald. We gave Grimace a temporary job as a turn-down maid at a Ronald McDonald House and he kept spilling the fries when he put them on our guest's pillows. The grease and salt penetrated our guest's scalps and they ended up in the hospital worse off than their sick kids. We had to move a ton of Shamrock Shakes to pay them off."
"I hate to threaten you, boss. If you let me go, I'll reveal the formula for the Big Mac Special Sauce."
"Go ahead, Ronald. Everyone knows that the "Special Sauce" is Thousand Island Dressing. Shout it from the rooftops if you want. But if you do, we have lots of high-powered lawyers here with nothing to do who would love to sue you for revealing trade secrets. We also have a few friends who have molds for very large concrete overshoes and would be only too happy to fit you for a pair and take you diving in Lake Michigan. By the way, have you heard from Mayor McCheese lately? He went for a boat trip with our friends a while ago."
And so it ends. Crestfallen, Ronald removes the make-up, turns in the yellow jumper and fades into history with Bucky Beaver, The Jolly Green Giant, Mr Whipple, The Maytag Repairman, and so many advertising icons of the past
Friday, May 20, 2011
NFL Lockout Explained
The National Football League lockout is very confusing to most fans. Professional football is the proverbial "goose that laid the golden egg". Both team owners and players are making tons of money while we fans are feeding the goose with $80 ticket prices and high TV ratings. Imagine the foie gras from that baby. Yum!
Pundits claim that the lockout is a battle over money between billionaires (owners) and millionaires (players). The inevitable result is even-higher ticket prices and more commercial breaks during telecasts. Instead of the current three plays, (commercial break), punt, (commercial break), inevitable punt return penalty, (commercial break), three plays, we are sure to see commercial breaks between plays and possibly while the punt is in the air.
This enticing possibility is why I am rooting for the owners in the NFL lockout. As a semi-incontinent (especially with a few beers in me) senior citizen, the more commercial / bathroom breaks during a game, the better. Is the lockout not a clash of billionaires vs. millionaires but truly a battle between the generations? "In this corner, with a prostate the size of a softball and bladder capacity measured in millililters, we have NFL owners and older fans. In the opposite corner sporting a jock strap, a protective cup, and a lace-up fly that takes 10 minutes to loosen and not having urinated since they woke up this morning because they don't have to, we have the NFL players and young fans."
Still, there must be a Point of Diminishing Returns. NFL telecasts cannot be 80% commercials / 20% action, can they?
Ponder this, Hockey and soccer have the fewest commercial interruptions of any televised sports and the lowest ratings. It is not like Wegman's sells out of wings and salsa for Stanley Cup or World Cup parties, but try getting a Giant Hoagie at the last minute on Super Bowl Sunday. More commercial breaks means more bathroom visits and more snacking opportunities.
Oh yeah, I'm rooting for the owners.
Pundits claim that the lockout is a battle over money between billionaires (owners) and millionaires (players). The inevitable result is even-higher ticket prices and more commercial breaks during telecasts. Instead of the current three plays, (commercial break), punt, (commercial break), inevitable punt return penalty, (commercial break), three plays, we are sure to see commercial breaks between plays and possibly while the punt is in the air.
This enticing possibility is why I am rooting for the owners in the NFL lockout. As a semi-incontinent (especially with a few beers in me) senior citizen, the more commercial / bathroom breaks during a game, the better. Is the lockout not a clash of billionaires vs. millionaires but truly a battle between the generations? "In this corner, with a prostate the size of a softball and bladder capacity measured in millililters, we have NFL owners and older fans. In the opposite corner sporting a jock strap, a protective cup, and a lace-up fly that takes 10 minutes to loosen and not having urinated since they woke up this morning because they don't have to, we have the NFL players and young fans."
Still, there must be a Point of Diminishing Returns. NFL telecasts cannot be 80% commercials / 20% action, can they?
Ponder this, Hockey and soccer have the fewest commercial interruptions of any televised sports and the lowest ratings. It is not like Wegman's sells out of wings and salsa for Stanley Cup or World Cup parties, but try getting a Giant Hoagie at the last minute on Super Bowl Sunday. More commercial breaks means more bathroom visits and more snacking opportunities.
Oh yeah, I'm rooting for the owners.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
USA All the Way
Americans are falling behind the rest of the world in many endeavors. Two of the top five basketball prospects in the upcoming NBA draft are guys from Turkey and Lithuania. Hey, we invented basketball! The top-selling cars in the world are Japanese. Henry Ford would be appalled. The Russian AK-47 is the weapon of choice for insurgents. What ever happened to the All-American M-16?
The USA still dominates in Competitive Eating, however. Californian Joey Chestnut will defend his Cheesesteak Eating title this weekend at Dorney Park. He will try to break his record of 19 sandwiches in 10 minutes. Let's see those Turks or Lithuanians top that. USA! USA!
Of course, competitive eating can be a marathon as well as a sprint. Americans rule long-term eating as well. The Associated Press reported yesterday, "A retired prison guard ate his 25,000th Big Mac this week, 39 years to the day after eating his first. Don Gorski was honored after reaching the meaty milestone during a ceremony at McDonald's in his hometown of Fond du Lac, Wisconsin."
Let's put Don's achievement in perspective. 25,000 Big Macs divided by 39 years times 365 days equals about 1.75 double-decker sandwiches every day since May,1972. Old Don has chowed down nearly two Big Macs every day since gas was $0.30 per gallon, and we had to actually get up and turn a knob to change the channel on our TV sets. Dinosaurs may have also roamed the earth in that long-ago era. That is real dedication to The Golden Arches.
Assuming 1/4 pound of meat in each Big Mac and 800 pounds of meat per beef cow, Don has consumed eight entire steers, more or less. Fortunately, Wisconsin, "America's Dairyland", has bovines to spare.
But what about Don's health? McDonald's lists the Big Mac at 576 calories. 3,500 retained calories result in one pound of fat added to the human waistline. If Don didn't exercise over the past 39 years, he would have put on 4,100 pounds. That would be a problem. On the bright side, even the most unruly prisoners would not mess with a 4,000 lb guard.
How much would Don have to exercise to work off those 25,000 Big Macs? Running burns 750 calories per hour. If Don chased his prisoners around the yard for 19,200 hours or about 1.5 hours per day, he could retain the slim, girlish figure that he started with back in '72.
Foreigners may be taking over in basketball, auto manufacture, and weaponry, but when it comes to Competitive Eating, both sprint and marathon, it's USA all the way.
The USA still dominates in Competitive Eating, however. Californian Joey Chestnut will defend his Cheesesteak Eating title this weekend at Dorney Park. He will try to break his record of 19 sandwiches in 10 minutes. Let's see those Turks or Lithuanians top that. USA! USA!
Of course, competitive eating can be a marathon as well as a sprint. Americans rule long-term eating as well. The Associated Press reported yesterday, "A retired prison guard ate his 25,000th Big Mac this week, 39 years to the day after eating his first. Don Gorski was honored after reaching the meaty milestone during a ceremony at McDonald's in his hometown of Fond du Lac, Wisconsin."
Let's put Don's achievement in perspective. 25,000 Big Macs divided by 39 years times 365 days equals about 1.75 double-decker sandwiches every day since May,1972. Old Don has chowed down nearly two Big Macs every day since gas was $0.30 per gallon, and we had to actually get up and turn a knob to change the channel on our TV sets. Dinosaurs may have also roamed the earth in that long-ago era. That is real dedication to The Golden Arches.
Assuming 1/4 pound of meat in each Big Mac and 800 pounds of meat per beef cow, Don has consumed eight entire steers, more or less. Fortunately, Wisconsin, "America's Dairyland", has bovines to spare.
But what about Don's health? McDonald's lists the Big Mac at 576 calories. 3,500 retained calories result in one pound of fat added to the human waistline. If Don didn't exercise over the past 39 years, he would have put on 4,100 pounds. That would be a problem. On the bright side, even the most unruly prisoners would not mess with a 4,000 lb guard.
How much would Don have to exercise to work off those 25,000 Big Macs? Running burns 750 calories per hour. If Don chased his prisoners around the yard for 19,200 hours or about 1.5 hours per day, he could retain the slim, girlish figure that he started with back in '72.
Foreigners may be taking over in basketball, auto manufacture, and weaponry, but when it comes to Competitive Eating, both sprint and marathon, it's USA all the way.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
The Commencement Speaker Who Dared Tell the Truth
'Tis the season for college commencements. Proud parents and hungover graduates swelter in the hot sun as distinguished speakers implore them to "never stop learning" and to "reach for the stars."
By the way, a college's choice for its commencement speaker is a better indicator of its status than its US News & World Report ranking. The more prestigious institutes of higher learning bring in a Nobel Prize-winning artist, writer, or scientist to inspire the new graduates. Less-secure colleges grant honorary degrees to Captains of Industry and local politicos. There is less inspiration, but, hopefully, a hefty financial contribution from the grateful recipient.
What the newly-minted graduates need to hear at Commencement is not high-flying, cliched oratory, but down-to-earth advice as they venture from the ivy-covered Halls of Academe to the Post-It-covered walls of Cubicle World:
"Graduates, your life will change dramatically from this moment on. In college, you could roll out of bed at 7:45 AM, toss on shorts, a tank top, and flip-flops, neglect personal hygiene, stroll across the Quad and still make that 8:00 class. In the Real World (not to be confused with the TV show), you need to rise and shine at 6:00, shower (body odor easily wafts over cubicle walls), shave your face or legs (or both, depending on your gender or sexual proclivity), and don "corporate casual" clothing (including those foot coverings called "socks" that you haven't worn since last winter).
But I can do all that in a half-hour. Why get up at the ungodly hour of 6:00, you may ask. Because your daily commute is not a stroll across the Quad any more. It's thirty minutes of hell in rush hour traffic or on crowded public transportation the stress of which at will likely undo the benefits of that deodorant that you hopefully remembered to apply earlier. Always carry a back-up supply of anti-perspirant in your brief case, kids. Your co-workers will thank you for it.
Your working day in Cubicle World will be very different from your average day here on campus. Instead of dull, boring lectures and seminars leavened by transmitting hilarious You Tube videos and snarky comments on your trusty laptops, you will sit through dull, boring meetings with Corporate IT monitoring your tweets and IMs for anything remotely obscene or non-complimentary toward management. Resist the temptation to photo-shop the head of a talking gerbil onto the body of the Corporate Safety Director no matter how rodent-like his beady eyes and protruding teeth. You achieved everlasting fame when you photo-shopped Yoda's head onto Professor Smith back in Econ 101 and everyone high-fived you after class when you added the caption, "Invisible hand, it is, driving markets to efficiency", but a stunt like that will get you a pink slip in Cubicle World.
Your working day will eventually end. After the homeward commute, you are starving. In college, you waltzed in to a Dining Hall, swiped your meal card, and food magically appeared. In the Real World, there is no Lady in the Hair Net replenishing the trays on the steam table. You are the Lady in the Hair Net and that Hamburger Helper isn't going to cook itself. Or buy itself either.
Sure, this sounds scary, you may say, but I will get paid in Cubicle World. I never got paid in college and it was hard getting credit from the drug dealer down on the corner.
Ponder this, graduates! Your annual starting salary will likely be less than a year's tuition, room, board, and expenses here at college. Is it worth all those early morning wake-ups, forced personal hygiene, uncomfortable clothes, and humorless corporate management?"
At this point, the Class of 2011 might rise as one and demand re-admission to college. The parents of the Class of 2011 rush the dais and dismember the Commencement Speaker Who Dared Tell The Truth. Most juries would consider it an act of justifiable homicide.
By the way, a college's choice for its commencement speaker is a better indicator of its status than its US News & World Report ranking. The more prestigious institutes of higher learning bring in a Nobel Prize-winning artist, writer, or scientist to inspire the new graduates. Less-secure colleges grant honorary degrees to Captains of Industry and local politicos. There is less inspiration, but, hopefully, a hefty financial contribution from the grateful recipient.
What the newly-minted graduates need to hear at Commencement is not high-flying, cliched oratory, but down-to-earth advice as they venture from the ivy-covered Halls of Academe to the Post-It-covered walls of Cubicle World:
"Graduates, your life will change dramatically from this moment on. In college, you could roll out of bed at 7:45 AM, toss on shorts, a tank top, and flip-flops, neglect personal hygiene, stroll across the Quad and still make that 8:00 class. In the Real World (not to be confused with the TV show), you need to rise and shine at 6:00, shower (body odor easily wafts over cubicle walls), shave your face or legs (or both, depending on your gender or sexual proclivity), and don "corporate casual" clothing (including those foot coverings called "socks" that you haven't worn since last winter).
But I can do all that in a half-hour. Why get up at the ungodly hour of 6:00, you may ask. Because your daily commute is not a stroll across the Quad any more. It's thirty minutes of hell in rush hour traffic or on crowded public transportation the stress of which at will likely undo the benefits of that deodorant that you hopefully remembered to apply earlier. Always carry a back-up supply of anti-perspirant in your brief case, kids. Your co-workers will thank you for it.
Your working day in Cubicle World will be very different from your average day here on campus. Instead of dull, boring lectures and seminars leavened by transmitting hilarious You Tube videos and snarky comments on your trusty laptops, you will sit through dull, boring meetings with Corporate IT monitoring your tweets and IMs for anything remotely obscene or non-complimentary toward management. Resist the temptation to photo-shop the head of a talking gerbil onto the body of the Corporate Safety Director no matter how rodent-like his beady eyes and protruding teeth. You achieved everlasting fame when you photo-shopped Yoda's head onto Professor Smith back in Econ 101 and everyone high-fived you after class when you added the caption, "Invisible hand, it is, driving markets to efficiency", but a stunt like that will get you a pink slip in Cubicle World.
Your working day will eventually end. After the homeward commute, you are starving. In college, you waltzed in to a Dining Hall, swiped your meal card, and food magically appeared. In the Real World, there is no Lady in the Hair Net replenishing the trays on the steam table. You are the Lady in the Hair Net and that Hamburger Helper isn't going to cook itself. Or buy itself either.
Sure, this sounds scary, you may say, but I will get paid in Cubicle World. I never got paid in college and it was hard getting credit from the drug dealer down on the corner.
Ponder this, graduates! Your annual starting salary will likely be less than a year's tuition, room, board, and expenses here at college. Is it worth all those early morning wake-ups, forced personal hygiene, uncomfortable clothes, and humorless corporate management?"
At this point, the Class of 2011 might rise as one and demand re-admission to college. The parents of the Class of 2011 rush the dais and dismember the Commencement Speaker Who Dared Tell The Truth. Most juries would consider it an act of justifiable homicide.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Say It Isn't So, Donald
Say it isn't so, Donald.
Donald Trump announced yesterday that he will not run for President. His press release noted that The Donald was confident that he could win the Republican primary and defeat Barack Obama in the general election. Trump noted that a presidential campaign cannot be run on a part-time basis and he would be busy with "Celebrity Apprentice" which had just been renewed for 2012. After all, only The Donald can keep Meat Loaf and Gary Busey in line.
This is the same reason why Ryan Seacrest didn't throw his hat in the ring back in 2008. Ryan could have easily solved the financial crisis that year, but think of the disappointment to "American Idol" fans and contestants. Also, the last three "Rockin' New Years Eves" just wouldn't have been the same if he were in the White House instead of above Times Square.
Apparently, one can better serve the public as a reality television celebrity than as an elected official nowadays. One wonders at the changes in American History if reality TV celebrity had been an option in the past.
"Pilgrims, I know that this voyage has been difficult and you are anxious to get off this tiny ship and establish a colony here in the New World. Before you scatter onto dry land though, we have an offer from BBC TV for a reality show called "Pilgrim Big Brother". We stay cooped up on the ship and really get on each other's nerves. By the end of the season, we'll be burning each other as witches which will get great ratings back home in England. We will probably do the witch burning thing in a few years on dry land anyway, so why not get paid for it now? We can invite a few Indians on board and still do Thanksgiving Dinner. BBC Food Network hosts will prepare all the food. It will be delish!"
"General Washington, there is a crowd of people at the gates of Mount Vernon requesting that you become our first President. There are also eight woebegone tykes at the back door. The Gosselin kids have a special request. After fame and fortune with "Jon & Kate Plus Eight", these kids saw their parents spilt up and make spectacular fools of themselves in public. They desperately need a Father Figure and who better than The Father of Their Country? They even wrote scripts for a few episodes of "George Plus Eight". The little ones mischievously steal your wooden false teeth and learn a lesson when their pet beaver eats your upper plate. The older ones exhaust your entire supply of silver dollars trying to throw them across the Rappahannock, but you forgive them. One of the kids chops down the cherry tree and they refuse to rat on each other until you hit them with the old "cannot tell a lie" line. Come to think of it, they are really bratty kids, but if you do well on this show, you can appear on "Dancing With The Stars" just like their Mom. That has got to be better than dealing with Congress."
"Abe, the nomination is in the bag and President Lincoln has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? Before, you make any hasty decisions though, consider this - "Frontier Judge" starring Abraham Lincoln! The TV landscape is littered with Judge Wapner, Judge Judy, Judge Joe Brown and the like. They get big ratings with with pithy, down-home putdowns of sorry litigants. No one is better at that than you are. "It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt." will even be a hit in the South. "How many legs does a dog have if you call his tail a leg? Four. Calling a tail a leg doesn't make it one." Let's see Judge Judy match that! All we've got to do is get you a signature look. Judge Judy has that lacy collar with her robe. How about a coonskin cap?"
It's a good thing that reality TV didn't come along until now.
Donald Trump announced yesterday that he will not run for President. His press release noted that The Donald was confident that he could win the Republican primary and defeat Barack Obama in the general election. Trump noted that a presidential campaign cannot be run on a part-time basis and he would be busy with "Celebrity Apprentice" which had just been renewed for 2012. After all, only The Donald can keep Meat Loaf and Gary Busey in line.
This is the same reason why Ryan Seacrest didn't throw his hat in the ring back in 2008. Ryan could have easily solved the financial crisis that year, but think of the disappointment to "American Idol" fans and contestants. Also, the last three "Rockin' New Years Eves" just wouldn't have been the same if he were in the White House instead of above Times Square.
Apparently, one can better serve the public as a reality television celebrity than as an elected official nowadays. One wonders at the changes in American History if reality TV celebrity had been an option in the past.
"Pilgrims, I know that this voyage has been difficult and you are anxious to get off this tiny ship and establish a colony here in the New World. Before you scatter onto dry land though, we have an offer from BBC TV for a reality show called "Pilgrim Big Brother". We stay cooped up on the ship and really get on each other's nerves. By the end of the season, we'll be burning each other as witches which will get great ratings back home in England. We will probably do the witch burning thing in a few years on dry land anyway, so why not get paid for it now? We can invite a few Indians on board and still do Thanksgiving Dinner. BBC Food Network hosts will prepare all the food. It will be delish!"
"General Washington, there is a crowd of people at the gates of Mount Vernon requesting that you become our first President. There are also eight woebegone tykes at the back door. The Gosselin kids have a special request. After fame and fortune with "Jon & Kate Plus Eight", these kids saw their parents spilt up and make spectacular fools of themselves in public. They desperately need a Father Figure and who better than The Father of Their Country? They even wrote scripts for a few episodes of "George Plus Eight". The little ones mischievously steal your wooden false teeth and learn a lesson when their pet beaver eats your upper plate. The older ones exhaust your entire supply of silver dollars trying to throw them across the Rappahannock, but you forgive them. One of the kids chops down the cherry tree and they refuse to rat on each other until you hit them with the old "cannot tell a lie" line. Come to think of it, they are really bratty kids, but if you do well on this show, you can appear on "Dancing With The Stars" just like their Mom. That has got to be better than dealing with Congress."
"Abe, the nomination is in the bag and President Lincoln has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? Before, you make any hasty decisions though, consider this - "Frontier Judge" starring Abraham Lincoln! The TV landscape is littered with Judge Wapner, Judge Judy, Judge Joe Brown and the like. They get big ratings with with pithy, down-home putdowns of sorry litigants. No one is better at that than you are. "It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt." will even be a hit in the South. "How many legs does a dog have if you call his tail a leg? Four. Calling a tail a leg doesn't make it one." Let's see Judge Judy match that! All we've got to do is get you a signature look. Judge Judy has that lacy collar with her robe. How about a coonskin cap?"
It's a good thing that reality TV didn't come along until now.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Big Oil Patriots
"Tyler, now that you are entering Kindergarten, it is high time that you decided on a career plan. What do you want to be when you grow up?"
"I'd like to be a professional skateboarder, Dad. Failing that, how about a video game tester? I could just live in the basement here at home until I get really good at it."
"Your Mom and I have a different idea. Why don't you become the CEO of a major oil company? You can make enough money to line your skateboard park in $100 bills and still afford a solid gold video gaming system. Your salary and bonuses are set by your Board of Directors who just happen to be your buddies. They serve on your Board and give you what you want. You serve on their Board and give them what they want. It's like you decide how much allowance your buddy Justin gets and he decides how much you get."
"That sounds great, Dad. But what happens when those nasty US Senators call me and my CEO buddies in on the carpet because we are charging people $4 for a gallon of gas while we suck in $2 billion per year in tax breaks and, by the way, make $35 billion in profits in three months?"
"You're a Big Oil CEO, Tyler! You don't just have to sit there and take that abuse. Last week, James Mulva, CEO of Conoco accused a panel of Senators of being "un-American" for suggesting that he give up his tax breaks. No tax breaks means higher energy prices, fewer oil industry jobs, and more dependence on foreign oil. If we had real patriots in the US Senate like Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, Roosevelt or Dick Cheney, they would know that. You would think that a few billion in campaign contributions would bring these guys to their senses. Clearly, the real Americans are not sitting in the Senate, but in a penthouse corner office in Houston."
"So, as a Big Oil CEO, I not only make lots of money, but I'm a Super Patriot. Is that right, Dad?"
"Sure is, son. There's room for a few more faces on Mount Rushmore, you know. You could join the CEOs of Exxon, Conoco, and the boys up there. Your mom and I would be so proud."
"I'd like to be a professional skateboarder, Dad. Failing that, how about a video game tester? I could just live in the basement here at home until I get really good at it."
"Your Mom and I have a different idea. Why don't you become the CEO of a major oil company? You can make enough money to line your skateboard park in $100 bills and still afford a solid gold video gaming system. Your salary and bonuses are set by your Board of Directors who just happen to be your buddies. They serve on your Board and give you what you want. You serve on their Board and give them what they want. It's like you decide how much allowance your buddy Justin gets and he decides how much you get."
"That sounds great, Dad. But what happens when those nasty US Senators call me and my CEO buddies in on the carpet because we are charging people $4 for a gallon of gas while we suck in $2 billion per year in tax breaks and, by the way, make $35 billion in profits in three months?"
"You're a Big Oil CEO, Tyler! You don't just have to sit there and take that abuse. Last week, James Mulva, CEO of Conoco accused a panel of Senators of being "un-American" for suggesting that he give up his tax breaks. No tax breaks means higher energy prices, fewer oil industry jobs, and more dependence on foreign oil. If we had real patriots in the US Senate like Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, Roosevelt or Dick Cheney, they would know that. You would think that a few billion in campaign contributions would bring these guys to their senses. Clearly, the real Americans are not sitting in the Senate, but in a penthouse corner office in Houston."
"So, as a Big Oil CEO, I not only make lots of money, but I'm a Super Patriot. Is that right, Dad?"
"Sure is, son. There's room for a few more faces on Mount Rushmore, you know. You could join the CEOs of Exxon, Conoco, and the boys up there. Your mom and I would be so proud."
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Cranky Senior Moment
As a bona fide "Cranky Senior", no one pays attention when I note that it was a lot tougher being a high school student back in my day. First of all, girls had to wear skirts even in the winter. Boys had to wear collared shirts and non-jeans pants. Today's kids dress like tarts and construction workers! There was no Pizza Day at lunch. We got a balanced meal of whatever USDA surplus food happened to be available. Like it or lump it! Our English research papers and essays were typewritten. Typos and misspellings were "points off" unlike today's foolproof formatting and Spellcheck.
One change from my high school days is for the better. Drivers Ed. cars today have automatic transmissions. The very definition of terror is sitting in the back seat of a standard transmission Drivers Ed. car while it drifts backward on a hill, traffic is approaching, and the Instructor screams "Up on the clutch!". The terror is amplified by the knowledge that the gas cap is behind the license plate so the fuel tank must be directly beneath you and that is the first thing that the oncoming garbage truck will hit. Worse yet, you are next to go behind the wheel, and you don't know where the "catch point" on the clutch is either.
If the goal of each generation is to make life easier for their children and grandchildren, our greatest contribution to today's teens is the automatic transmission Drivers Ed car. I still think that they should suffer through uncomfortable clothing, USDA surplus food, and manual typewriting though. Otherwise what will they have to complain about when they are Cranky Seniors.
One change from my high school days is for the better. Drivers Ed. cars today have automatic transmissions. The very definition of terror is sitting in the back seat of a standard transmission Drivers Ed. car while it drifts backward on a hill, traffic is approaching, and the Instructor screams "Up on the clutch!". The terror is amplified by the knowledge that the gas cap is behind the license plate so the fuel tank must be directly beneath you and that is the first thing that the oncoming garbage truck will hit. Worse yet, you are next to go behind the wheel, and you don't know where the "catch point" on the clutch is either.
If the goal of each generation is to make life easier for their children and grandchildren, our greatest contribution to today's teens is the automatic transmission Drivers Ed car. I still think that they should suffer through uncomfortable clothing, USDA surplus food, and manual typewriting though. Otherwise what will they have to complain about when they are Cranky Seniors.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Henry and Osama - Brothers?
Apparently, our friends in Pakistan will allow US Intelligence access to the three wives that Osama left behind in Abbotabad. According to a report on "Today", this includes Osama's "favorite wife", a presumably nubile 28 year old, another who holds a PhD in Islamic Law, and a third who probably handled the cooking, cleaning, and other household chores.
Henry Ford sparked the Industrial Revolution with the assembly line and "division of labor". Someone who is good at installing windshields does only that on every Model T that passes on the line. It's quick and efficient. Osama maintained domestic tranquility with wifely "division of labor".
"Number 1, off to the bedroom with you! Number 2, review the script for my latest televised rant. Make sure those Quran references are correct. Number 3, the kitchen is a pig sty and you know what the Prophet thinks of pigs. Clean it up if you ever want to attain Favorite Wife status."
Isn't that the key? Henry Ford promised promotion to foreman to his workers to inspire hard work. Osama had the "favorite wife" carrot on the end of his stick.
And so History's Greatest Capitalist has a lot in common with its Greatest Midevalist.
Henry Ford sparked the Industrial Revolution with the assembly line and "division of labor". Someone who is good at installing windshields does only that on every Model T that passes on the line. It's quick and efficient. Osama maintained domestic tranquility with wifely "division of labor".
"Number 1, off to the bedroom with you! Number 2, review the script for my latest televised rant. Make sure those Quran references are correct. Number 3, the kitchen is a pig sty and you know what the Prophet thinks of pigs. Clean it up if you ever want to attain Favorite Wife status."
Isn't that the key? Henry Ford promised promotion to foreman to his workers to inspire hard work. Osama had the "favorite wife" carrot on the end of his stick.
And so History's Greatest Capitalist has a lot in common with its Greatest Midevalist.
Monday, May 9, 2011
The Reese Maneuver
Proposed state funding cuts threaten art, music, phys. ed. and (shudder!) even Driver's Ed. in Pennsylvania high schools. Frankly, I don't remember a bit of the art or music instruction I received back in the day. One look at my current physique will reveal that phys. ed. instruction didn't exactly sink in, either. Driver's Ed. is a different matter.
I fondly recall Mr Reese cursing the Driver's Ed car cigarette lighter, grasping the steering wheel between his knees, pulling a Lucky Strike out of his pack, retrieving his trusty Zippo, and lighting up all while motoring down Mulberry Street at the 25 mph speed limit. Mr Reese warned, "You guys do this and I'll flunk you!"
Naturally, the Reese Maneuver became the Holy Grail for us neophyte drivers. It took practice. You really had to get it down pat in a parked car. Knees to steering wheel. Get good solid contact. Remove hands. Retrieve cigarette. Place in mouth keeping your eyes on the road. Find lighter. Don't look down! Light it. Many a pubescent beard was singed at this point. Take a drag. Return hands to steering wheel.
The Reese Maneuver was much more difficult in a moving vehicle what with uneven road surfaces and opposing traffic. The highest degree of difficulty was awarded for using book matches with an open window at highway speeds. Legend has it that someone from the Class of '61 accomplished this feat, but some people believe in the Loch Ness Monster, too.
The point is that we could successfully complete the Reese Maneuver because we had seen it accomplished by its master. It takes real, live instructor-led Driver's Ed to capture all the nuances of successful motoring.
What happens when we abandon Driver's Ed.? Last week, a newspaper report stated, "A Berks County woman crashed into a utility pole as she lit a cigarette and tried to steer her car with her knees...She suffered minor injuries from her seat belt and air bag deployment."
She was doing the Reese Maneuver, but without observing it done by the master in a Driver's Ed environment. She had no chance.
Save our utility poles! Restore Driver's Ed.!
I fondly recall Mr Reese cursing the Driver's Ed car cigarette lighter, grasping the steering wheel between his knees, pulling a Lucky Strike out of his pack, retrieving his trusty Zippo, and lighting up all while motoring down Mulberry Street at the 25 mph speed limit. Mr Reese warned, "You guys do this and I'll flunk you!"
Naturally, the Reese Maneuver became the Holy Grail for us neophyte drivers. It took practice. You really had to get it down pat in a parked car. Knees to steering wheel. Get good solid contact. Remove hands. Retrieve cigarette. Place in mouth keeping your eyes on the road. Find lighter. Don't look down! Light it. Many a pubescent beard was singed at this point. Take a drag. Return hands to steering wheel.
The Reese Maneuver was much more difficult in a moving vehicle what with uneven road surfaces and opposing traffic. The highest degree of difficulty was awarded for using book matches with an open window at highway speeds. Legend has it that someone from the Class of '61 accomplished this feat, but some people believe in the Loch Ness Monster, too.
The point is that we could successfully complete the Reese Maneuver because we had seen it accomplished by its master. It takes real, live instructor-led Driver's Ed to capture all the nuances of successful motoring.
What happens when we abandon Driver's Ed.? Last week, a newspaper report stated, "A Berks County woman crashed into a utility pole as she lit a cigarette and tried to steer her car with her knees...She suffered minor injuries from her seat belt and air bag deployment."
She was doing the Reese Maneuver, but without observing it done by the master in a Driver's Ed environment. She had no chance.
Save our utility poles! Restore Driver's Ed.!
Friday, May 6, 2011
Bucklebury Bucklers
My hearing is not what it used to be. Thank heavens for TV closed captioning. It saved me from total embarrassment last Friday.
Last Friday was, of course, the Royal Wedding. I was sure that I heard a commentator mention that Kate Middleton's hometown was "Huckleberry". Well, I thought, maybe they grow blueberries there and named the town after the product that out them on the map. After all, we have Oil City right here in Pennsylvania and Steel City just down the road from Bethlehem. There is Plant City in Florida that touts itself as The Strawberry Capital of the World.
I was about to comment on this when I glanced at the closed captioning and saw that Kate actually comes from "Bucklebury". How quaintly British is that? It sounds like something straight out of "The Lord of the Rings". "After their near-disaster at the Prancing Pony in the village of Bree, Aragorn and the hobbits proceeded to Bucklebury where the Nazgul could not find them."
Southeastern Pennsylvania is chock-full of town names transplanted from England. Reading, Chalfont, Hatfield, Horsham, and St Isadore on the Green (Well, maybe not that one) are towns in both the Old and New Worlds. Why is there no Bucklebury here?
Perhaps it is because Bucklebury does not lend itself to a good nickname for its high school athletic teams. The Red Knights take the field for Reading HS and inspire fear in opponents' hearts much like the Chalfont Chargers and the Hatfield Hatters (Well, not so much for that one). But the Bucklebury Bucklers? They would never make a goal line stand. They would buckle.
Why couldn't Kate Middleton be from Liverpool? There's a unique name that I wouldn't misinterpret until I read the closed-captioning. Also, there's an East Liverpool in Ohio so we have the "Hands Across the Water" connection and any old athletic nickname would do because we all know that liver is full of iron.
Last Friday was, of course, the Royal Wedding. I was sure that I heard a commentator mention that Kate Middleton's hometown was "Huckleberry". Well, I thought, maybe they grow blueberries there and named the town after the product that out them on the map. After all, we have Oil City right here in Pennsylvania and Steel City just down the road from Bethlehem. There is Plant City in Florida that touts itself as The Strawberry Capital of the World.
I was about to comment on this when I glanced at the closed captioning and saw that Kate actually comes from "Bucklebury". How quaintly British is that? It sounds like something straight out of "The Lord of the Rings". "After their near-disaster at the Prancing Pony in the village of Bree, Aragorn and the hobbits proceeded to Bucklebury where the Nazgul could not find them."
Southeastern Pennsylvania is chock-full of town names transplanted from England. Reading, Chalfont, Hatfield, Horsham, and St Isadore on the Green (Well, maybe not that one) are towns in both the Old and New Worlds. Why is there no Bucklebury here?
Perhaps it is because Bucklebury does not lend itself to a good nickname for its high school athletic teams. The Red Knights take the field for Reading HS and inspire fear in opponents' hearts much like the Chalfont Chargers and the Hatfield Hatters (Well, not so much for that one). But the Bucklebury Bucklers? They would never make a goal line stand. They would buckle.
Why couldn't Kate Middleton be from Liverpool? There's a unique name that I wouldn't misinterpret until I read the closed-captioning. Also, there's an East Liverpool in Ohio so we have the "Hands Across the Water" connection and any old athletic nickname would do because we all know that liver is full of iron.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Backhanded Compliments
Backhanded compliments are sometimes endearing. "You are smart to do your laundry on a Saturday night when everyone else is out having a good time, dear." They are also sometimes mean-spirited. "In four years, your brother will be just another college graduate looking for a job, while you will be a McDonald's burger flipper with four years experience. Let's see them outsource that."
Express - Times reporter Kelly Huth experienced a backhanded compliment that might be endearing or, more likely, grounds for justifiable homicide. When she entered a local restaurant to participate in the on-going Cheesesteak Challenge Competition, a patron said, "Hey, I thought you'd be fatter." While not approaching the zenith of mean-spiritedness like the classic "Wow, for a fat girl, you sure don't sweat much", no jury, and especially no jury with female representation, would convict Kelly if she seized a meat cleaver and turned that loud-mouthed patron into steak tartare.
Violence is a desperate last resort however. The optimal response to a mean-spirited backhanded compliment is the snappy comeback. "At least I can put on my own shoes. When is the last time you even saw your feet, Chubb-O?" followed by "I'll try being nicer if you try being smarter." as you reach for the meat cleaver. Self-defense is always a good idea.
Express - Times reporter Kelly Huth experienced a backhanded compliment that might be endearing or, more likely, grounds for justifiable homicide. When she entered a local restaurant to participate in the on-going Cheesesteak Challenge Competition, a patron said, "Hey, I thought you'd be fatter." While not approaching the zenith of mean-spiritedness like the classic "Wow, for a fat girl, you sure don't sweat much", no jury, and especially no jury with female representation, would convict Kelly if she seized a meat cleaver and turned that loud-mouthed patron into steak tartare.
Violence is a desperate last resort however. The optimal response to a mean-spirited backhanded compliment is the snappy comeback. "At least I can put on my own shoes. When is the last time you even saw your feet, Chubb-O?" followed by "I'll try being nicer if you try being smarter." as you reach for the meat cleaver. Self-defense is always a good idea.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Halloween 2011 Will Be Different
"Up here, anywhere around here, when you don't leave, you get a warning shot. Just get the (expletive) out of here."
This was the explanation given by Rhonda Kalapach when her husband was arrested Saturday for firing four rifle shots at a carload of Jehovah's Witnesses who had tried to visit the Kalapach home. Rhonda noted that the evangelists ignored repeated demands to leave and forced her husband to react the way that he did. "They just weren't moving fast enough," she said.
What effect will the Kalapach Incident have on the future of door-to-door solicitation? Will those pesky cookie-selling Girl Scouts be forced to don bullet-proof vests and track shoes for a faster exit? Will those ubiquitous trick-or-treaters be admonished to check for live ammo in their candy? Will those sneaky meter readers have to look out for snares and booby traps when they stumble through the household shrubbery? Will those irritating UPS deliverymen have to sprint back to the truck after ringing your doorbell in the middle of dinner and scaring the bejesus out of the dog?
How can one little incident like this create long-lived hysteria, you ask?
Ponder this. Every Halloween in my lifetime, parents have insisted on inspecting their little trick-or-treaters' loot before it is consumed. "Some mean people put razor blades in candy trying to hurt kids," they say. "I have to check it out first. By the way, Timmy, you don't really like coconut candy, do you? I'll just keep these Mounds and Almond Joys for myself."
In my 63 years of existence, I never heard a verifiable report of razor-laden Halloween candy. Still, every year, the Halloween edition of "Action News" or "Eyewitness News" ends with the local news anchor sternly admonishing parents to beware of torn wrappers on that trick-or-treat loot.
Perhaps the Halloween 2011 edition of "Eyewitness News" will end with - "Kids, if you get a warning shot instead of a Snickers bar from that house down the block, just get the (expletive) out of there."
This was the explanation given by Rhonda Kalapach when her husband was arrested Saturday for firing four rifle shots at a carload of Jehovah's Witnesses who had tried to visit the Kalapach home. Rhonda noted that the evangelists ignored repeated demands to leave and forced her husband to react the way that he did. "They just weren't moving fast enough," she said.
What effect will the Kalapach Incident have on the future of door-to-door solicitation? Will those pesky cookie-selling Girl Scouts be forced to don bullet-proof vests and track shoes for a faster exit? Will those ubiquitous trick-or-treaters be admonished to check for live ammo in their candy? Will those sneaky meter readers have to look out for snares and booby traps when they stumble through the household shrubbery? Will those irritating UPS deliverymen have to sprint back to the truck after ringing your doorbell in the middle of dinner and scaring the bejesus out of the dog?
How can one little incident like this create long-lived hysteria, you ask?
Ponder this. Every Halloween in my lifetime, parents have insisted on inspecting their little trick-or-treaters' loot before it is consumed. "Some mean people put razor blades in candy trying to hurt kids," they say. "I have to check it out first. By the way, Timmy, you don't really like coconut candy, do you? I'll just keep these Mounds and Almond Joys for myself."
In my 63 years of existence, I never heard a verifiable report of razor-laden Halloween candy. Still, every year, the Halloween edition of "Action News" or "Eyewitness News" ends with the local news anchor sternly admonishing parents to beware of torn wrappers on that trick-or-treat loot.
Perhaps the Halloween 2011 edition of "Eyewitness News" will end with - "Kids, if you get a warning shot instead of a Snickers bar from that house down the block, just get the (expletive) out of there."
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Beware The Trick Question
The Pennsylvania Department of Transportation advises motorists to stock their vehicles with jumper cables, spare fuses and bulbs, road flares, a flashlight, snack foods and water before hitting the road. For winter driving, a snow shovel, kitty litter, and blankets should be added. That's all well and good for common citizens. For PA State Senators driving down our mean streets, safety equipment includes a minimum of two handguns.
Our very own State Senator Bob Mensch was cited for disorderly conduct last month for allegedly waving a handgun at a fellow motorist on I-78. The details of the case are of the "he said / she said" variety. Not in dispute is that Senator Bob's state-owned SUV ($4 per gallon gas, so what? The state pays for it anyway. And you never know when Senator Bob might have to go off-roading in pursuit of criminals) had a .22 caliber gun in the glove compartment and a .40 caliber Glock beneath the seat. Senator Bob has a license for both guns and, as he reminds us, is trained in their use and safety.
Some might say that two guns is overkill, but re-loading is so time-consuming and that .22 has no stopping power.
Perhaps it only applies to State Senators driving state-owned vehicles, but young Pennsylvanians should be aware of a potential trick question in the written portion of their Driver's Test:
Which of the following is recommended safety equipment to be carried at all times in your vehicle:
A. Barrels of nuclear waste.
B. Angry wolverines
C. Loaded firearms
D. None of the above
E. All of the above
If you answered C., welcome to Harrisburg.
Our very own State Senator Bob Mensch was cited for disorderly conduct last month for allegedly waving a handgun at a fellow motorist on I-78. The details of the case are of the "he said / she said" variety. Not in dispute is that Senator Bob's state-owned SUV ($4 per gallon gas, so what? The state pays for it anyway. And you never know when Senator Bob might have to go off-roading in pursuit of criminals) had a .22 caliber gun in the glove compartment and a .40 caliber Glock beneath the seat. Senator Bob has a license for both guns and, as he reminds us, is trained in their use and safety.
Some might say that two guns is overkill, but re-loading is so time-consuming and that .22 has no stopping power.
Perhaps it only applies to State Senators driving state-owned vehicles, but young Pennsylvanians should be aware of a potential trick question in the written portion of their Driver's Test:
Which of the following is recommended safety equipment to be carried at all times in your vehicle:
A. Barrels of nuclear waste.
B. Angry wolverines
C. Loaded firearms
D. None of the above
E. All of the above
If you answered C., welcome to Harrisburg.
Monday, May 2, 2011
A Guide for Campus Visits
It's that time of year for high school juniors and their parents to begin planning summer visits to college campuses. Young Brad and Tiffany will want to see what the dormitories look like and how high the piles of beer cans extend. Hey, you can't expect us to study all the time.
Their parents will be more concerned with tuition and room & board charges. At Pennsylvania state schools this year, these are uncertain. Governor Tom Corbett has slashed state aid by a whopping 50%. Pennsylvania faces a multi-billion dollar budgetary shortfall. Governor Tom swept into office pledging "no tax increases". The suffering must be shared. No more reduced-price lunches for grade schoolers. No raises for teachers. No more art, music, or phys ed instruction in the schools.
And no tax on the natural gas drilled from the about-to-be-developed Marcellus Shale Formation. Energy companies are barely limping by with multi-billion profits nowadays and, if we tax them, they may not drill in PA at all. Of course, they pay state taxes on natural gas drilled everywhere else, but we really need those jobs here in the Keystone State. All those kids who can't afford to go to college and get jobs as teachers (not that there are any teacher jobs) can put on a hard hat and solve America's energy problems by drilling for natural gas.
If young Tiffany's parents don't see her spending her working life as a drilling rig roughneck, this summer's college visits are even more important than in the past. Last week, Governor Tom urged PA state college trustees to address revenue shortfalls by tapping the riches of the Marcellus Shale beneath their campuses. "We are not talking about drilling on top of Old Main, but these schools have a lot of land separate and apart from the academic buildings."
There you have it, parents. Look for the drilling rigs on campuses. They are a sure sign of low tuition. The water in the dormitory showers may occasionally burst into flame and the college pool may full of fracking waste, but at least you can now afford to give Tiff that education that will hopefully keep her out of a hard hat for the rest of her life.
Of course, student visitation tour guides will have to be re-trained. "Here is our beautiful campus Quadangle. On the right is our state-of-the art Computer Center. On the left is our Student Gym chock full of squash courts and the latest exercise equipment. Directly ahead is Deepcampus Horizon, the drilling rig that makes all this possible. It hasn't blown up since my freshman year!"
Their parents will be more concerned with tuition and room & board charges. At Pennsylvania state schools this year, these are uncertain. Governor Tom Corbett has slashed state aid by a whopping 50%. Pennsylvania faces a multi-billion dollar budgetary shortfall. Governor Tom swept into office pledging "no tax increases". The suffering must be shared. No more reduced-price lunches for grade schoolers. No raises for teachers. No more art, music, or phys ed instruction in the schools.
And no tax on the natural gas drilled from the about-to-be-developed Marcellus Shale Formation. Energy companies are barely limping by with multi-billion profits nowadays and, if we tax them, they may not drill in PA at all. Of course, they pay state taxes on natural gas drilled everywhere else, but we really need those jobs here in the Keystone State. All those kids who can't afford to go to college and get jobs as teachers (not that there are any teacher jobs) can put on a hard hat and solve America's energy problems by drilling for natural gas.
If young Tiffany's parents don't see her spending her working life as a drilling rig roughneck, this summer's college visits are even more important than in the past. Last week, Governor Tom urged PA state college trustees to address revenue shortfalls by tapping the riches of the Marcellus Shale beneath their campuses. "We are not talking about drilling on top of Old Main, but these schools have a lot of land separate and apart from the academic buildings."
There you have it, parents. Look for the drilling rigs on campuses. They are a sure sign of low tuition. The water in the dormitory showers may occasionally burst into flame and the college pool may full of fracking waste, but at least you can now afford to give Tiff that education that will hopefully keep her out of a hard hat for the rest of her life.
Of course, student visitation tour guides will have to be re-trained. "Here is our beautiful campus Quadangle. On the right is our state-of-the art Computer Center. On the left is our Student Gym chock full of squash courts and the latest exercise equipment. Directly ahead is Deepcampus Horizon, the drilling rig that makes all this possible. It hasn't blown up since my freshman year!"
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