They're People Too

"Corporations are people, too", according to Mitt Romney. Just like us flesh and blood Americans, corporations have the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of governmental largess by making unlimited, anonymous campaign contributions. Thank you, 2010 Supreme Court.

Let's compare a flesh and blood American like yours truly to an American corporation, say General Electric. In the second quarter of 2011, I "earned" about $10,000 between my pension and Social Security and paid about 25% of that in Federal taxes. In the same quarter, GE earned $3,7 billion and paid zero in Federal taxes. If corporations are "people, too", shouldn't they be paying at least something for the rights and privleges of being an American?

"Not so fast," reply the Republican candidates. "Corporations are Job Creators. They need every penny of those profits to drag the country out of this recession. It hasn't happened for three years now, but it will come. Look at all the jobs that GE has created for Tax Attorneys to make sure that they can take advantage of every loophole in the Tax Code. Surely, GE and other corporations will get around to creating jobs for you common folk soon."

"Until then, you people "people" will have to pick up the tab for:

National Defense - About 60 cents of every dollar you pay to Washington goes for the jets, tanks, and aircraft carriers that provide friendly foreign governments so that Exxon, Halliburton, GE and the like can haul in those off-shore profits. Your life might not be impacted if the Saudi people overthrew their King, but Dick Cheney's stock options from Halliburton would take a hit. You can't expect our corporate "people" to stand still for that. They shouldn't have to pay for it, though.

The State Department - You may never need our ambassador to Kazakhstan to pressure the locals for a zoning permit for that McDonald's in downtown Astana, but the Golden Arches won't be quite as golden if they can't spread the American Way there and haul in a few rubles in the process. Of course, Ronald McDonald shouldn't have to pay for the privilege.

The Agriculture Department - Those subsidies and price supports that keep our food prices high enough to support "the family farmer" mostly go to the corporate agribusinesses that put the family farmer out of business. You can't expect agribusiness to pay taxes on that. You people "people" have Food Stamps and $5 foot-longs. What else do you want?

The Justice Department - Your tax dollars are financing The War on Drugs. We can't have "hopheads" coming in late for work, spending their money on drugs instead of food for their families, beating their wives and children, and driving under the influence. Of course, it's OK for alcoholics to do the same. Alcohol is legal and, oh by the way, Anheuser Busch, Miller, and Coors sponsor race car teams and stadiums out of their profits. Kevin Harvick's #29 Budweiser racing car, and sponsorship of Miller Park in Milwaukee or Coors Field in Denver is a much better use for corporate money than alcohol awareness or even, heaven forbid, paying taxes to fund Federal prisons where abusers of their product reside.

So, you see, corporations are people, too. Except for the paying taxes part. That's up to you people "people"."

Homestyle

Food labels assault us with adjectives - "Natural", "Lite", "Organic", "Lo-Cal", "Free Range, Grass Fed, Humanely Slaughtered. This cow volunteered to be eaten!". We take these advertising claims with a grain of salt. Every now and then though, a food label goes beyond the pale.

Kibbles & Bits Dog Food is now "Homestyle With That Home-Cooked Taste". These words conjure the image of Mama Lassie wielding a spoon over a savory pot filled with all of Fido's favorite foods from puppyhood. So warm, so comforting. Wait a minute. We're talking kibble here - dried chunks of meat by-products. Mama Lassie was cooking up this crap? No wonder Fido left home.

How does Kibbles & Bits know that its product has "that home-cooked taste"? Unless K&B has a Pet Psychic on staff to translate doggie taste testers' tail-wagging and drooling into human language, how can they make this claim? There is a law requiring Truth in Advertising after all.

Kibbles & Bits must hire humans to determine whether their Homestyle product is truly that. Is it a coincidence that K&B dares make this claim at a time when people are desperately seeking employment of any kind? "Help Wanted - Taste Testers for an exciting new Homestyle product. Preferred applicants will have strong teeth and bitter childhood memories."

"This kibble tastes just like the Hamburger Helper that Mama forgot to put meat in and left on the stove overnight. It's Homestyle, all right."

What Makes Neutrino Run?

Hot Scientific News Flash! The speed of light has been broken!

Researchers at CERN that mammoth atom-smashing tunnel beneath the Alps clocked a neutrino at a speed exceeding Warp 1. Take that, Albert Einstein. You had postulated that the speed of light could not be exceeded, but we Star Trek fans know that the Enterprise could go to Warp 9 and we Star Wars fans know that the Millennium Falcon could achieve hyperspace when Han and Chewie got it all together. It just took a while for 21st century scientists to catch up to Gene Roddenberry and George Lucas.

By the way, isn't neutrino a cool name for a subatomic particle or anything else for that matter? When I first studied science all we had were boring protons, neutrons and electrons. You could never name a sports car "The Proton" and expect it to sell. But if Ferrari brought out the new 2011 "Neutrino", buyers would be lined up outside the dealership. The name just sounds funky and fast.

This is probably why modern parents with boring names like Mark and Carol name their offspring Connor and Tiffany. The names sound cool. No doubt the proton and neutron that gave birth to the speedy CERN subatomic particle last week shared Mark and Carol's thoughts. "We lived our lives with dull, common names. Let's give the little guy a name that folks will remember. We'll call him Neutrino."

But why is little Neutrino so fast and why did we just find out about it now? By definition, a neutrino looks just like an electron but carries no electrical charge. Normal "hetero" electrons carry a negative charge and are attracted to those sexy positively-charged protons. Neutrinos are the LGBT (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgendered) of the subatomic world.

Until last week, "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" might have been the law in subatomics as well as the US Military. When those closeted neutrinos saw American soldiers, sailors, and Marines publicly "coming out", they may have decided to do the same. Alas, protons, electrons, and neutrons were less broad-minded than the US military brass. Only the fastest neutrinos survived their wrath and exceeded the previously inviolable speed of light in their escape.

Don't feel bad, Albert Einstein. Hetero subatomic particles still can't exceed the speed of light.

What's In A Name?

"What is in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet." True enough, Mr Shakespeare, but the wrong name can get you beaten like a rented mule.

I read every line of the newspaper sports section. Hope springs eternal that good (the Phillies, Eagles, Lafayette) will triumph over evil (the Yankees, Cowboys, Lehigh). The sports section also provides amusement. How many ways can high school field hockey players spell Kaylee, Kayleigh, Kylee? Why are high school boy soccer players either named something precious like Channing or Keegan or something foreign like Luis or Vladimir?

Then there is the name that just jumps off the page. Scoring a goal for Northampton HS yesterday was Romeo Gaye. Mr and Mrs Gaye had it in for you, Romeo. With a surname like that, you've got to have a Christian name like Marvin for the musically-inclined or Gordon for fans of alliteration or Mike or Jack or some other "k" name to up your macho quotient. Romeo exposes you to both first and family name mockery.

"Yo, Romeo, where's Juliet?"

"Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou? Losing this game, that's where."

"Don't ask. Don't tell. Romeo Gaye can go to..."

"My Gay-Dar picks up that kid from Glee and Romeo."

Of course, Mr and Mrs Gaye may have taken Johnny Cash's "Boy Named Sue" literally. Romeo must "grow up quick and grow up mean. His fists must "get hard and his wits get keen." Will mockery of Romeo land one "kickin' and a-gougin' in the mud and the blood and the beer"? By the way, "the mud and the blood and the beer" is almost Shakespearean.

Come to think of it, young Mr Gaye is better off as Romeo than as Channing or Keegan.

Acne Apps

I don't own a smart phone. I am therefore deprived of all those swell "apps" that would allow me to simultaneously read the Great Works of Western Literature on a tiny screen while ordering a pizza and texting to my friends while driving my car. How did humanity muddle through before smart phones?

Not all "apps" are what they appear to be. The Federal Trade Commission stopped "Acne App" and "Acne Power" from advertising their product last week. After downloading the "app" and paying $1.99, customers were told to hold their smart phone display screen near their skin for a few minutes each day while its colored lights treated their acne. Hey, it's cheaper than Clearasil and doesn't leave that greasy film. You may develop brain cancer from holding your smart phone near your head, but you'll have clear skin.

Those killjoys at the FTC found the acne-fighting claims "unsubstantiated". Typical of interfering, overregulating big government, they forced the acne apps from the marketplace no doubt causing many tax-paying Americans to lose their jobs. Do the Tea Partiers and the Republican presidential candidates know about this?

Nearly 15,000 people purchased the acne "app". "Build a better mousetrap and the world will beat a path to your door." Actually, provide a useless product, market it properly and people will buy it. I fondly remember Pet Rocks and Mood Rings from the '70s. These products helped push America out of the Carter "stagflation" and Oil Shocks. Would acne "apps" have provided the consumer spending binge that we need to get out of the current economic hard times? Thanks to the FTC, we will never know.

Macho Macho Man

Last Monday was National Talk Like a Pirate Day. Arr-r-r and I missed it. Me one chance each year-r-r to sound salty and tough and have nary a landlubber lookin' funny at me.

Using language and tone to sound macho not only commands respect o'er the Seven Seas but in the political arena as well. Pundits credit Rick Perry's rise to the top of the polls in part to his twangy, down-home debate performances reinforcing his fearless cowboy image. Mitt Romney cannot adopt a manly West Texas drawl at this late date (Perry has that shtick sewn up), but he can upgrade his Macho Quotient by talking like a pirate.

"Guvner-r-r Perry, ye claim that if Ben Ber-r-rnanke keeps on printin' all that fool money ye Texans would know how to handle him. We Massachusetts Yankees would keelhaul that scurvy rat and hang 'im from the yard arm! Out-macho that!"

"Guvner-r-r, the only gun control ye believe in is to use both hands (pause for cheers and applause). Ye go a-joggin' in Texas carryin' yer pistol with holler-point bullets to shoot coyotes. When I set sail with me crew of hearties, we need both hands and both feet to aim our ship's cannon and we shoot at killer-r-r whales not bilge rat size coyotes. Who's more manly now?"

"Guvner-r-r, landlubbers like yer cowboy boots with "Liberty" stitched on 'em. Ar-r-r, look at me new pirate eye patch. It'll show up in every campaign photo not just full-body shots. And in case I ferget, the patch has "I'm anti-government health care and pro-life now" stitched inside."

Politics aside, since I missed National Talk Like a Pirate Day would someone please remind me when National Walk Like an Egyptian Day comes around?

Really Real Housewives

"The Real Housewives" franchise is inescapable. The "reality" TV series featuring wealthy, well-dressed, perfectly-coiffed women who depart their McMansions and gated communities to "do lunch" with their friends and complain about the vicissitudes of their lives has series set in New York, New Jersey, Atlanta, Beverly Hills, and Orange County. Alas, more program slots are available than there are wealthy gated communities in which to set them. Bravo considered "The Real Housewives of Macungie" wherein the ladies spend the morning making apple butter and "schnitz und knepp" then gather for lunch at Shankweilers for a hearty bowl of chicken and waffles, but it bombed with test audiences.

"Real Housewife" Taylor Armstrong really did have something to complain about last month. Her husband Russell committed suicide. This was Taylor's opportunity to guest on "Entertainment Tonight" and "Today". She tearfully revealed that Russell was abusive. He once "grabbed her by the neck, shoved her against a wall, and threatened to kill her if she ever again made pizza without vegetables for the family."

What a brute! How could he expect her to stop at Whole Foods for arugula and sun-dried bean sprouts when that was the Day of the Triple Whammy? The cook called in sick. It took forever for that new bartender to make mimosas at lunch and the plastic surgeon ran out of botox just before her appointment. Life isn't easy in Beverly Hills.

And they call "Real Housewives" reality TV.

Pickle Tech

News Item - "When Wendy's decided to remake its 42 year old hamburger (You'd think it would have sold by now. Of course, it's been stale since the Nixon Administration), the chain agonized over every detail. A pickle chemist was consulted. Customers were quizzed on their lettuce knowledge. And executives went on a cross-country burger-eating tour."

This item should be framed and posted in high school Guidance Counselors' offices nationwide along with the classic "Pursue your passion and you'll never 'work' a day in your life." September is the busy season for Guidance Counselors. Seniors must decide their futures. Do they go to college? What do they study there? How about vocational training? Is the military the right choice? Many kids have no idea.

Guidance Counselors can now point to the Wendy's article. "Do you like hamburgers, Josh? Have you ever wondered about the chemistry involved in pickle-making? If you can taste the difference between a kosher dill and a sweet gherkin on an all-beef patty, there's a future for you in the Fast Food Industry. Let's see if you qualify for the Pickle Technology curriculum at the local Community College. "

"Uh-oh, you failed Chemistry last year. Pickle Tech is out. But you still like those burgers, don't you? And you want to 'help people'. Let us (forgive the pun) look into Lettuce Education at State U. Most Americans can't tell the difference between a bibb and an arugula. The Wendy's survey proved that. You can help raise our Lettuce IQ. The USA may rank below Malaysia, Finland, and Togo in math and science, but with your help we will stomp those foreigners in the next Vegetable Olympics."

"Whoops, you don't like green stuff on your burger. Lettuce Ed. won't work then. The Wendy's article lists one final opportunity. Why not become an executive and spend your time on a cross-country burger-eating tour? It's a tough job, but someone has got to do it. Study Business Admin. in college, carefully avert blame while taking credit as you rise through the corporate ranks, dress the same way as the higher-ups, get an executive-style haircut, and you can spend your well-compensated executive career on a burger-eating road trip."

"You like that one, Josh? I thought you would."

Eye of Glass

I learned many lessons from my co-workers at a meat packing house in the summer of '65.

Handsome young Joby taught me that it is best to keep one's wife and two girlfriends separate and unaware of each other's existence. Slovenly Delmo taught me that leaving one's lunch on the kitchen counter overnight leads to a plague of ants in the workplace lunchroom. Truck Driver Smokey taught me that binocular vision and depth perception are not an absolute requirement for safe driving. Smokey had a glass eye after a childhood accident.

Those lessons served me well in the ensuing years. I never had to limit romantic encounters to dimly-lit restaurants and the back row at the Drive-In movie. I never felt the crunch of a masticated insect when I bit into my luncheon sandwich. I did, however find occasions when a glass eye would be advantageous.

"Who wants to explain the effect of viscosity on the Bernoulli Effect? Anyone?" Should the student who partied the weekend away and failed to do the assigned reading make eye contact with the professor? Bad idea. How about staring down at the desk? Also a bad idea. It looks like the student is avoiding the question. With a glass eye, one can do both thus confusing the professor who will certainly call on someone else.

Then there is the dreaded semi-annual Dental Checkup. What do you look at while the Hygienist is painfully scraping away at a six month build-up of tartar on your teeth? You can count the ceiling tiles only so many times. The number of lighting fixtures doesn't change after the first count. Never stare at the Hygienist! She might be self-conscious about that zit near her ear and punish your impudence with indescribable oral agony.

With a glass eye, you have a built-in excuse. "Sure, one of my eyes is staring at your nose hairs, but that's my glass eye!"

Come to think of it, of all the guys in the meat packing house, Smokey had the best cared-for teeth. Now I know why.

Polka Floyd

The Lehigh Valley hosts an increasing number of musical festivals. The Grandaddy of Them All, The Great Allentown Fair begat Musik (with a k) fest which begat Mayfair which begat (Drum roll, please) the inaugural, new for 2011 Oktoberfest at Steel Stax (with both a k and an x).

As the new kid on the block, Oktoberfest organizers need to make a splash on a limited budget. They can't afford to host the latest Disney-manufactured Tween Idol (Musikfest had a Jonas brother! Not the cute one, but a Jonas brother nonetheless.) or the Reunion Tour of a rock band no one has heard of since the 70s. Even a big name polka act is beyond their means (Jimmy Sturr is a regular at Musikfest and the Allentown Fair, but a bit pricey for a first year start-up).

The Oktoberfest folks got creative. The best way to accommodate the diverse musical tastes of the Lehigh Valley is to meld them into one act. The Valley loves classic rock. The Valley loves polka. Oktoberfest brings you Polka Floyd! Yes indeed, boys and girls, the classic sounds of Pink Floyd replete with stage pyrotechnics to a polka beat! You've marvelled at "The Dark Side of the Moon" as the soundtrack to "The Wizard of Oz". It will blow your mind backing "The Beer Barrel Polka". Join us as "Another Brick in the Wall" accompanies "You Can Have Her. I Don't Want Her. She's Too Fat For Me." Do the Chicken Dance (at a slower pace than usual) to "Comfortably Numb".

When I first heard an advertisement for Polka Floyd as the feature act at Oktoberfest, I thought it was a prank. Unless the Internet is lying, Polka Floyd is a "rock band with a polka edge" out of Toledo, OH that covers more than 40 Pink Floyd songs.

This is perfect for the Lehigh Valley. The only thing that could possibly surpass it would be bacon-infused funnel cake. We like our classic rock and our polka, but we really love our deep-fried festival foods. Offer Bacon Funnel Cake at a Polka Floyd Concert and the new Oktoberfest is sure to be a success.

Bad Dad

I'm a bad Dad.

When my daughters were of age for "destination" birthday parties, our Care Bear invitations stated "Join us at Chuck E Cheese for pizza and games". It was nearby, inexpensive, and, I now realize, totally inadequate. This week's Sports Illustrated reports that international (and possibly intergalactic) soccer star David Beckham (AKA Mr Posh Spice) is renting the British castle used in the Harry Potter Movies as Hogwart's for his son Brooklyn's 13th birthday party.

As we all know from "Deathly Hallows Part 2", the castle absorbed considerable damage during the final assault by Voldemort's minions, but even a ravaged Hogwart's beats the crap out of Chuck E Cheese or even McDonald's as the site for a kid's birthday party. Let's see Chuck E or Ronald McD make gargoyle statues come to life to fight off the bad guys.

There is a down side to Hogwart's as Party Central. Imagine the personal injury lawsuits if Brooklyn's guests get too close to the Whomping Willow or stumble into The Chamber of Secrets. Imagine the psychic damage if some poor little girl is joined in the castle potty stall by Moaning Myrtle. Even David Beckham can't carry enough liability insurance for that.

But the soccer star obviously loved his kid enough to take those risks. 13 year olds now realize that the extent of their parents' devotion can be measured by the location of their birthday party. In ascending order, McDonalds, Chuck E Cheese, the roller rink, the ice rink, Madison Square Garden, and, top of the list, Hogwart's.

What's On the Radio?

"Music hath charms to sooth the savage breast", but it will cost you, $309 in fact.

Patrons of the Lopatcong, NJ swimming pool enjoyed music played over the radio this past summer. When the American Society of Composers, Authors, and Publishers got wind of this, they mailed a bill to the Township Supervisors to cover "copyright law". The $309 is the minimum for a Local Government Entity Base License Fee. The fee can go as high as $61,652 depending on population. If the swimming pools and playgrounds of Tokyo, Mexico City or Calcutta want American music, we can balance the trade deficit. Send us oil. We'll send you Lady Gaga's Greatest Hits.

Township Supervisors were understandably up in arms. "We will play the radio in the Municipal Building and everywhere else in the township to get our $309 worth."

But there's radio and there's radio. Which station should the various arms of the township be tuned in to? The Public Works Department has a reputation for lethargy. "The tree leafs from last autumn are still on my street and this year's have started falling." Tune that Vacuum Truck radio to the Punk Rock station. A little "Hey Ho, Let's Go" by the Ramones and those streets will be cleared in no time.

The Police have trouble clearing the town square of gathered youth on weekend nights. Rather than wading in with threats and nightsticks, the gendarmes can remain in their cruiser and disperse the crowd by blasting the Easy Listening Station on their loudspeaker. "That was the 1,001 Strings with their version of Theme From a Summer Place. Next up, the Mantovani Orchestra with Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White." That teen rabble will flee immediately.

We can't forget the fine folks at the Senior Citizens' Center. What better ammunition for their diatribes about "the damn government" than the sound system tuned in to Conservative Talk Radio. "This is Rush Limbaugh. The Lamestream Media doesn't want you to know this but not only does Obamacare include Death Panels but anyone accepting Social Security COLAs is put on top of the Death Panel List even if they're not sick." Attendance at the Senior Citizens Center is sure to increase. Pinochle Tournaments and Quilting Bees don't give the thrill of of Limbaugh rant.

Conversely, you don't want to rile up the inmates at the Township Prison. Its sound system should be tuned to NPR. "Next on Fresh Air, an interview with the author of the latest best seller about adorable puppies followed by a BBC newscast." Lethargy will descend on those hardened criminals.

Considering the benefits, that might be the best $309 the Township can spend.

The Twitterr Criterion

I am not on Twitter mostly because I would be embarrassed by having only two or three "followers", one of them a dog. Tweeting "Time for kibble, a walk and a dump" seems redundant when the dog arouses instantly from the deepest slumber when I come within twenty feet of the kibble bucket. Also, his tweets would be boring. "Slept. Licked myself. Barked at nothing in particular."

Twitter is of sociological value, however. It reveals what is of prime importance to the American Public.

On August 28, Twitter traffic set an all-time record of 9,000 tweets per second when Beyonce revealed her pregnancy on the MTV Music Awards. The previous record was a mere 5,000 tweets per second last May with the death of Osama bin Laden. Results have not been announced for last week's shocking revelation that Madonna can't stand hydrangeas, but that probably will take over #2 on Twitter's all-time Hit List. After all, the "Today Show" devoted a segment to The Material Girl's denunciation of the blue flower.

They say that traditional journalism is dying with the advent of social media like Twitter. Why doesn't The New York Times utilize social media to decide what makes its daily headlines? Clearly, almost twice as many folks care about a pop star's pregnancy than the death of the man responsible for 9/11. More people would buy a newspaper headlined "Beyonce Preggers" than "Osama Dead. Troops Can Come Home". Twitter never lies. Circulation would spike.

Going back in history, "Don't Send Hydrangeas to Madonna" would trump "Japanese Bomb Pearl Harbor". The NY Times with its stodgy old "All the news that's fit to print" could probably find some space for the Day of Infamy, but not a headline had the Twitter Criterion been available in 1941.

One wonders if those Islamofascists might consider scheduling their next attack on America for the day that Beyonce gives birth. "It won't even be a suicide mission, Abdullah. You can get away before everyone is finished tweeting about the baby."

Ration Cards Rule

With the War in Libya winding down, US Congressmen are now concerned about retrieving the firearms that magically appeared in the hands of the rebels. All the weapons that someone with the cryptic initials "C.I.A." handed out to the Afghani mujaheddin when they fought the Russians and to the Iraqi Army when they fought Iran ended up being used against us. So much for gratitude. They didn't even send a thank-you note.

Fortunately, the US military has a proven means to prevent Black Market re-sale of strategic items - the Ration Card. Every GI stationed in Korea back in my day received that precious card each month. The PX clerk punched the appropriate box every time we purchased:

1. Liquor. This was limited to five "fifths" per month at $0.90 to $3.00 tax-free and the Army wondered why it had an alcohol problem.

2. Beer or soda. Beer was cheaper than Coke, $2 vs. $2.50. Running low on money this month, soldier? Drink Schlitz instead of Pepsi.

3. Cigarettes. We could only purchase five cartons per month at $2.00. This came to nearly two packs of butts or about $0.30 per day. Fortunately, medical care for lung cancer was free!

4. Hand Moisturizing Lotion. Are your hands rough and red after scrubbing pots all day on KP duty? Buy Jergen's Lotion for quick relief.

Actually, the Hand Moisturizer was a bigger item on the Black Market than booze, beer, or butts. After the first of the month when new ration cards were issued, the PX's stock of Jergen's would magically find its way to the shops in the village just outside the post gate. Considering that outdoor, cold water bathing with lye soap was common in rural Korea in those days, moisturizing lotion was a hot seller.

Why not issue ration cards to weapons-seeking insurgents?

"You've come to the right place, Abdullah. The CIA Weapons Superstore has everything you will need to overthrow that dictator who we used to support but don't like anymore. Our 2011 model weapons are a lot better than the 1995 model weapons that we gave to him. Just ask Saddam what happened when our 2003 tanks from George Bush's War came up against our 1980s model tanks that we gave him for the Iran - Iraq Conflict.

One thing, though. Here's your Ration Card. You can only buy 5,000 assault rifles at a time. Come back next month and you'll get a new card for 5,000 more unless, of course, you've turned Radical Islamist. In that case, we want all our guns back."

It worked for Jergen's Lotion. It's got to work for AK-47s.

Legacy

I promised myself that I would never be the old crank who complained about "that crappy music that kids listen to today". I'd be the cool older guy who could at least identify if not necessarily appreciate the recording artist blaring out of the doorway as I walked past The Gap.

That lasted through the 80s thanks in large part to MTV. Music videos added choreography, costuming and sex making mediocre music memorable. Golden Earring's "When The Bullet Hits The Bone" wasn't exactly early Springsteen, but add dancing girls in skimpy leather Nazi-inspired outfits and you've got a hit.

Alas, MTV no longer shows music videos. Apparently, "Jersey Shore" and "Teen Moms" get higher ratings. MTV still sponsors the VMA Awards though which is like Chevrolet sponsoring the Annual Buggy Whip Award.

"This year's winner of the MTV Video Vanguard Award honoring her video legacy is (drum roll, please) Britney Spears!"

Apparently, Britney has established a "legacy" worthy of commemoration. Athletes have to be retired for five years before entering the Baseball or Football Halls of Fame. Statesmen and military heroes have to be dead before they can be honored on a postage stamp or a coin. But a 29 year old singer can win a Legacy Award?

This is why I have become that old modern music hating crank. For my generation, Chuck Berry provided a legacy as did the Beatles, Rolling Stones, and Beach Boys. You don't see MTV giving them any awards. Fifty years from now, Chuck, the Fab Four, the Stones and the Beach Boys will still be known while Britney, Video Vanguard Award notwithstanding, will likely be an obscure footnote in some musicologist's PhD thesis.

And don't get me started on the clothes and tattoos on today's young whippersnappers.

Incentive for Taxpayers

Opponents of Obama's plan to reduce the deficit by raising taxes on the wealthy in addition to cutting spending point out that a shocking 51% of Americans pay no Federal income taxes at all. What's worse is that 99% of these deadbeats own a refrigerator! Also, 70% own a microwave and nearly 50% have air conditioning! How dare Obama propose raising taxes on our job-creating wealthiest fellow citizens when fully half of the population is riding the gravy train.

Of course that 51% of the populace hauls in only 1.5% of roughly $100 trillion National Income. In other words, 150 million Americans average $10,000 annual income, about $200 per week. Thank God for McDonalds' Dollar Value Menu.

The problem is getting convincing these deadbeats to pay taxes. A sure solution is requiring a filled-out Form 1040 as documentation before buying a refrigerator, a microwave, an air conditioner, or any of those other exotic appliances that the poor seem to like so much. You have to show ID and prove that you are not a felon before you can buy a gun. Why not have to prove you are a taxpayer before you can buy that flat screen TV?

If you don't want to pay taxes, you can just live a 19th century lifestyle. There was no Federal Income Tax then. Pay taxes and advance to the 21st century. It makes perfect sense.

E.T., Archeologist

A recent article in The New Yorker debunked our widely-held belief that Neanderthals were knuckle-dragging subhumans. Neanderthal DNA is found among European and Asian homo sapiens DNA, but not that of Africans which must come as quite a shock to racists. More to the point, the original Neanderthal bones discovered in the 19th century may have been atypical. The hunched-over, ape-like skeletal structure that we assumed for "cavemen" may have been determined from a diseased Neanderthal.

Hey, it could happen even today. If Armageddon struck in 2011 and all earthly life was snuffed out, imagine a visit from extraterrestrials thousands of years in the future.

"E.T., you've been on this planet before, but you said it was crawling with human-like life forms."

"Yes, I was in what they called a "movie" until I was rescued. It's all changed now, barren and lifeless"

"Let's excavate at this "shopping center". You said that humans used to congregate here. Here's "Food 4 Less Discounted Groceries". There are a lot of human remains here."

"Oh my, their skeletal structures indicate that they are invariably obese. Those skin remnants have curious ink markings. Many are missing teeth. Those clothing fragments were stretched to the maximum when those poor humans wore them. This is not the way I remember earth humans. Maybe all those years of consuming Reese's Pieces finally left their mark."

"Let's excavate over here at "Whole Foods" to confirm our original findings."

"This is more like what I remember. The skeletal structures here supported slender, erect bodies. Those ink markings appear on more discreet patches of skin. The teeth are numerous and straight. Their clothing must have been organic because it's all gone unlike the indestructible polyester at the other site."

"E.T., what are we to report? Were Earthlings obese, tattooed, toothless beings or slender dashing creatures much like ourselves?"

"I thought that earthlings resembled Angelina Jolie more than Roseanne Barr, but it's been a while and my memory isn't what it used to be. Let's go with the obese, tattooed, toothless concept. That way we can feel better about ourselves. Whoa, look what we dug up at the Harley-Davidson dealer. Oh yeah, it's definitely the first option."

Fargo, Transylvania

Our beloved Lafayette Leopard gridders had best be checked for puncture wounds in the neck and aversions to sunlight, crucifixes, and holy water. Commentary during Saturday's webcast of their 42 - 6 loss at North Dakota State shows stunning parallels between the Leopards' trip to Fargo and Jonathan Harker's ill-fated journey to Transylvania in the original "Dracula":

1. North Dakota State provided the charter flight for the Leopards. It took them direct to Fargo thus avoiding commercial airline weather delays. Count Dracula provided the coach that delivered Harker direct to his castle despite storms and miscellaneous flying bats and howling wolves.

2. ND State fed the Leopards and put them up in cozy rooms upon their arrival. Drac did the same for Harker. Was the Fargo dining room dusty from lack of use and did the doors unlock only from the outside? "It's for your safety, Leopards. Ve don't vant you vandering these dangerous halls at night. Bwahh-ha-ha-ha."

3. According to the Lafayette webcast team, the streets of Fargo empty after dark on football nights "because everyone goes to the game." When Harker stopped at that Transylvanian Inn, he was warned not to go out after dark for fear of the undead. "Darn it, Margie! I'm tired of spending every night locked up in our house. Let's join the crowd headed for the football game. The vampires will only pick off the weak and infirm from our pack."

4. The Leopards put up quite a fight early trailing only 0 - 7 with a minute left in the first half. Harker also resisted the blandishments of the Count for a while. Bloodsucking took its toll in both the game and in the novel though. "There's all kinds of stuff going on in those pile-ups after tackles. The Leopards seem to be weakening."

5. After the game, the Lafayette gridders were unceremoniously loaded onto a night flight that returned them to Easton around 3 AM. The blood-drained Harker was likewise shunted to the castle's dungeon never again to see the light of day.

Santayana famously noted, "Those who fail to learn the lessons of history are doomed to repeat it." Had the Leopards studied Bram Stoker's "Dracula", they would never have journeyed to Fargo.

On a positive note, Lafayette's next game is a night contest. Look out, Georgetown. These Leopards are now much stronger in the dark.

Not So Fast, Ron

Much of what Ron Paul says makes sense.

"Legalize, control, and tax drugs." Forty years into The War on Drugs and all we have are overflowing prisons, incredible wealth to the criminal underclass both here and abroad, and no real decrease in drug consumption. On the other hand, we have some great movies like "Scarface" and "Winter's Bone",

"Avoid foreign military adventures." Four thousand Americans died in Iraq. Five times that many suffer wounds from that conflict. One trillion dollars were spent, and for what? Saddam didn't have Weapons of Mass Destruction after all which is exactly what the UN Inspectors told us before we went in. At least, Donald Rumsfeld and Dick Cheney got big book contracts out of the deal.

"Abolish FEMA. Let the people re-build after storm damage. It worked in Galveston back in 1903." Not so fast, Ron.

Hurricanes Connie and Diane flooded "The Flats" alongside Scranton's Lackawanna River back in 1955. I had friends who lived in "The Flats" and their houses were either swept away in the floods or damaged so severely that they had to be torn down. I lived four blocks away (fortunately uphill) and I remember the stench of mold and decay after the waters receded. There were rumors of "rats the size of small dogs" foraging in the debris. We kids eagerly anticipated hunting them with our BB guns.

FEMA's 1955 equivalent spoiled our fun by essentially levelling all structures on "The Flats". The Corps of Engineers then built flood control structures along the river. "The people" simply could not have done this on their own. They were trying to re-construct their lives from FEMA-supplied house trailers. Once "The Flats" were habitable again, our Capitalist System swept in and built a shopping center that stands to this day.

Ron Paul might look at that shopping center and say, "See how private enterprise resurrected this disaster area." Not without the government clearing it first, Ron.

Taxes are the price we pay to accomplish things as a society that we can't do alone. Even if all those folks from "The Flats" chipped in $1,000 from their insurance claims (assuming they had insurance), by the time the claims were paid and a contractor hired, those rats would have been the size of Dobermans and hauling off small children for brunch.

When Hurricane Agnes swept through in 1972, the 1955 flood control structures held. The South Side Shopping Center remained dry and ready for the hordes of panic-driven shoppers stocking up on milk, bread, and toilet paper. Another triumph for Capitalism though one that would not have been possible without "our hard-earned tax dollars".

Rivals

As a Lafayette guy, hatred toward Lehigh is embedded in my very DNA. It is not necessarily rooted in the fact that Lehigh has thumped us in football for the vast majority of the 45 games since I matriculated on College Hill. (Doesn't "matriculate" sound like advice from "Cosmopolitan". "The key to simultaneous orgasms is five minutes of mutual matriculation")

It is Lehigh's superior attitude that gets my goat. When I wrote letters to both Lehigh and Lafayette requesting admissions applications, Lafayette quickly responded with a cover letter addressed to "Mr Edward Dufton" marking the first time I had ever been addressed as such. Lehigh sent me a brochure titled "Are You Really Sure You Want To Go To College?" and promised an application later. "Sure, Lehigh. I'll just work at the Car Wash after high school graduation until I get drafted. I'd much rather dodge bullets around a rice paddy than catch flying beer at a Lehigh fraternity party."

Lehigh's superior attitude has not waned in the 21st century. In today's newspaper, football Coach Andy Coen took a shot at first game opponent Monmouth."We know some guys on their team through recruiting. They are guys who may not have fit academically here, but are thriving there. They are going to be a very physical football team."

In other words, "We know their players. They are dumb and play dirty. They couldn't cut it here academically, but will probably be Phi Beta Kappas there. It's a game between guys who have passed Calculus and guys who can't even spell it."

Guess which team I will be rooting for come Saturday?