I love pie.
Alas, in our modern health-conscious world, pies have gone low-calorie, gluten-free, high-fiber, and tasteless. The holiday issues of magazines feature recipes for pie "that is good for you". Well, that's not really pie. I want unhealthy. I want to feel the full blast of a guilty pleasure. I want to say, "I have just abused my body, gained three pounds, put myself in a sugar coma and given myself diabetes, but, by God, I loved it."
This is where fruit comes in. Be it apple, cherry, or blueberry, I can claim that amidst the sugar and spices, I did get my RDA of Vitamin C and anti-oxidants. When I am wheeled into the ER for a jolt of insulin, I will be clear-eyed and wrinkle-free.
Furthermore, purist pie lovers reject "ice cream on the side", whipped cream, or, horror of horrors, artificial whipped toppings. Do connoisseurs of single malt Scotch mix it with ginger ale before tasting? Do wine snobs add club soda before sipping? Real pie is best eaten "straight"..
The final qualification for real pie is how it tastes "the morning after". If a slab of last night's pie straight from the refrigerator makes the best breakfast you've ever had, that is real pie. Let's see some Ladies Home Journal low-calorie gluten-free abomination pass that test.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Air Travel Technology
The Thanksgiving Holiday is “the most heavily-travelled time of the year”. Always one to follow the crowd, my wife and I joined the throngs traversing the Friendly Skies this weekend.
Air travel has changed since my first experiences in the early 70s. In those days, airlines treated passengers as honored guests showering us with honey-roasted peanuts (insert Seinfeld joke here) and even changing those funky little headrest napkins between flights. Seats were spacious and aisles were roomy. We had to entertain ourselves with (gasp) books or magazines instead of DVD players and iPads, but at least we were comfortable.
That’s all changed now. Flights are crammed to the gills and seats are spaced the same as a Kindergarten classroom. For this trip, I was assigned a center seat in coach. On both legs, the person seated in front of me decided to take full advantage of that wonderful new invention, the reclining seat.
The 21st century has seen some technological wonders. Smart phones, fracking to retrieve natural gas, and Mitt Romney's hair come to mind. Still, the reclining seat trumps them all. The fine folks seated in front of me apparently had never encountered this marvel before and only returned to that so-20th-century full upright position when threatened with bodily harm by the flight crew.
I miss those honey-roasted peanuts and especially the headrest napkin, but the thing I’d really like to see again is adult-compatible seat spacing.
Air travel has changed since my first experiences in the early 70s. In those days, airlines treated passengers as honored guests showering us with honey-roasted peanuts (insert Seinfeld joke here) and even changing those funky little headrest napkins between flights. Seats were spacious and aisles were roomy. We had to entertain ourselves with (gasp) books or magazines instead of DVD players and iPads, but at least we were comfortable.
That’s all changed now. Flights are crammed to the gills and seats are spaced the same as a Kindergarten classroom. For this trip, I was assigned a center seat in coach. On both legs, the person seated in front of me decided to take full advantage of that wonderful new invention, the reclining seat.
The 21st century has seen some technological wonders. Smart phones, fracking to retrieve natural gas, and Mitt Romney's hair come to mind. Still, the reclining seat trumps them all. The fine folks seated in front of me apparently had never encountered this marvel before and only returned to that so-20th-century full upright position when threatened with bodily harm by the flight crew.
I miss those honey-roasted peanuts and especially the headrest napkin, but the thing I’d really like to see again is adult-compatible seat spacing.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Bieber Fever Cured
Bieber Fever is about to become a thing of the past.
How can this be when that whole paternity thing was swept under the rug and when scores of pre-teens are camping out at Rockefeller Center in the cold and rain for the Canadian Heartthrob's appearance on tomorrow's "Today Show"? The NYPD can pepper-spray Occupy Wall Street protesters downtown, but they dare not risk the wrath of Bieber fans.
Alas, the very flower of maximum popularity holds the seeds of its own destruction. This morning, the Today Show's Al Roker interviewed a pair of ladies holding a sign declaring "Moms 4 Bieber". "He's so cute. I could just hug him to death."
No self-respecting teen can idolize someone also appreciated by her parents! Look at the history of Teen Idols. Donnie Osmond was the Justin Bieber of the early 80s until his fans' parents jumped on the bandwagon and he hasn't been heard from since. David Cassidy next ascended to the title of Boy Most Likley To Be Pictured On Middle School Trapper-Keepers until Moms across America decided he was "cute". Where has he been for the past thirty years? More recently, the Jonas Brothers were The Boys We Would Most Like To Crash Tiffany's 13th Birthday Sleepover. Then, Mom said, "I'm a fan, too. Those boys are so wholesome." Kevin, Joe, and Nick, we hardly knew ye.
Still, history provides hope for Justin Bieber. When the Beatles threatened to become cross-generational idols and descend into Dave Clark Five or Gerry and the Pacemakers anonymity, they put out "Sgt Pepper". Now perceived by parents as drug-addled, Mahareshi-worshipping wackos instead of cute guys with odd haircuts, they regained their popularity with rebellious youth. The Beatles have probably sold more records in the forty years since they broke up than anyone.
Of course, there is another path. Elvis went from the swivel-hipped, sideburned rebel feared by parents and beloved by teens to those horrible movies and eventually to Vegas headliner. It kept him in blue suede shoes for a lot of years.
Justin, if you want to be relevant in 2041, get grungy, get rebellious or maybe even develop a Vegas Revue. It's not too late.
How can this be when that whole paternity thing was swept under the rug and when scores of pre-teens are camping out at Rockefeller Center in the cold and rain for the Canadian Heartthrob's appearance on tomorrow's "Today Show"? The NYPD can pepper-spray Occupy Wall Street protesters downtown, but they dare not risk the wrath of Bieber fans.
Alas, the very flower of maximum popularity holds the seeds of its own destruction. This morning, the Today Show's Al Roker interviewed a pair of ladies holding a sign declaring "Moms 4 Bieber". "He's so cute. I could just hug him to death."
No self-respecting teen can idolize someone also appreciated by her parents! Look at the history of Teen Idols. Donnie Osmond was the Justin Bieber of the early 80s until his fans' parents jumped on the bandwagon and he hasn't been heard from since. David Cassidy next ascended to the title of Boy Most Likley To Be Pictured On Middle School Trapper-Keepers until Moms across America decided he was "cute". Where has he been for the past thirty years? More recently, the Jonas Brothers were The Boys We Would Most Like To Crash Tiffany's 13th Birthday Sleepover. Then, Mom said, "I'm a fan, too. Those boys are so wholesome." Kevin, Joe, and Nick, we hardly knew ye.
Still, history provides hope for Justin Bieber. When the Beatles threatened to become cross-generational idols and descend into Dave Clark Five or Gerry and the Pacemakers anonymity, they put out "Sgt Pepper". Now perceived by parents as drug-addled, Mahareshi-worshipping wackos instead of cute guys with odd haircuts, they regained their popularity with rebellious youth. The Beatles have probably sold more records in the forty years since they broke up than anyone.
Of course, there is another path. Elvis went from the swivel-hipped, sideburned rebel feared by parents and beloved by teens to those horrible movies and eventually to Vegas headliner. It kept him in blue suede shoes for a lot of years.
Justin, if you want to be relevant in 2041, get grungy, get rebellious or maybe even develop a Vegas Revue. It's not too late.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Don't Know Much About History
It's OK for Sam Cooke to sing, "Don't know much about history. Don't know much biology. Don't know much about a science book. Don't know much about the French I took", but Sam isn't running for President. Michele Bachmann is running though and a course in Remedial History might do her some good.
Appearing before an Iowa church group this weekend, Michele said, "Probably the greatest amount of censorship today occurs in the pulpits of churches because we have a law that limits pastors from what they can say about politics in the pulpit. That's not the American way."
Actually, Michele, it is very much the American way. In fact, "free exercise of religion" is the very first sentence of the Bill of Rights. The Founding Fathers were very clear that religion and politics do not mix. Roman emperors declared themselves gods so any word against them was not only treason but blasphemy. Savonarola stopped the Florentine Renaissance in its tracks from the pulpit. Ferdinand and Isabella killed or exiled all non-Catholics from Spain. King Charles, head of the Church of England, exiled those dissenting Pilgrims to Holland and eventually to America. The Pilgrims, in an act of hypocrisy, then exiled dissenting Roger Williams to Rhode Island. Rhode Island, Pennsylvania, and Maryland were specifically established as a haven for persecuted Baptists, Quakers, and Catholics.
Pastors can say anything they want from the pulpit (good old Bill of Rights again). They can urge parishioners to send in those Right To Life postcards conveniently displayed in the narthex. They can decry segregation. They can espouse voting rights. But they cannot tell you who to vote for. If they do, their church becomes a political organ and is no longer tax-exempt.
That's the extent of "the greatest amount of censorship today", Michele. It has worked out pretty well since 1789 and I think we ought to stick with it.
Appearing before an Iowa church group this weekend, Michele said, "Probably the greatest amount of censorship today occurs in the pulpits of churches because we have a law that limits pastors from what they can say about politics in the pulpit. That's not the American way."
Actually, Michele, it is very much the American way. In fact, "free exercise of religion" is the very first sentence of the Bill of Rights. The Founding Fathers were very clear that religion and politics do not mix. Roman emperors declared themselves gods so any word against them was not only treason but blasphemy. Savonarola stopped the Florentine Renaissance in its tracks from the pulpit. Ferdinand and Isabella killed or exiled all non-Catholics from Spain. King Charles, head of the Church of England, exiled those dissenting Pilgrims to Holland and eventually to America. The Pilgrims, in an act of hypocrisy, then exiled dissenting Roger Williams to Rhode Island. Rhode Island, Pennsylvania, and Maryland were specifically established as a haven for persecuted Baptists, Quakers, and Catholics.
Pastors can say anything they want from the pulpit (good old Bill of Rights again). They can urge parishioners to send in those Right To Life postcards conveniently displayed in the narthex. They can decry segregation. They can espouse voting rights. But they cannot tell you who to vote for. If they do, their church becomes a political organ and is no longer tax-exempt.
That's the extent of "the greatest amount of censorship today", Michele. It has worked out pretty well since 1789 and I think we ought to stick with it.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Triumph of the Geeks
What inspires the techno-geek to trade in his current iPhone for the new iPhone 4S? Does he have several hundred dollars burning a hole in his pocket? Is he anxious to tie himself into a two-year contract to a particular carrier? Even the geekiest among us recognize those as disincentives.
The iPhone 4S's "must buy" feature is "Siri, the built-in personal assistant that responds to your voice in a soothing, robotic female tone." No longer must you key in your Internet requests. Siri will schedule your meetings, text your friends, give you GPS directions, rate restaurants, preview movies, and more. You simply "speak to the phone". In fact, Siri is a female version of HAL, the computer from "2001, A Space Odyssey", presumably without the homicidal tendencies.
But here's the feature that clinches it for the techno-geeks out there. When you say "Thank you" to Siri, she responds with "That's nice of you to say" or "Your wish is my command." The guys who were ignored by girls in high school, who spent their collegiate nights playing "Dungeons and Dragons" instead of partying at the frat house and who spend their workdays typing out computer code in a lonely cubicle can now flick out their iPhone and have a conversation with a "soothing female voice". That is certainly worth a couple hundred dollars and a two year contract. Better yet, Siri ends the conversation with "Your wish is my command". Even Joe Jock from high school never heard that from Tiffany the Cheerleader.
Steve Jobs, you saved the best for last. Thank you from geeks everywhere.
The iPhone 4S's "must buy" feature is "Siri, the built-in personal assistant that responds to your voice in a soothing, robotic female tone." No longer must you key in your Internet requests. Siri will schedule your meetings, text your friends, give you GPS directions, rate restaurants, preview movies, and more. You simply "speak to the phone". In fact, Siri is a female version of HAL, the computer from "2001, A Space Odyssey", presumably without the homicidal tendencies.
But here's the feature that clinches it for the techno-geeks out there. When you say "Thank you" to Siri, she responds with "That's nice of you to say" or "Your wish is my command." The guys who were ignored by girls in high school, who spent their collegiate nights playing "Dungeons and Dragons" instead of partying at the frat house and who spend their workdays typing out computer code in a lonely cubicle can now flick out their iPhone and have a conversation with a "soothing female voice". That is certainly worth a couple hundred dollars and a two year contract. Better yet, Siri ends the conversation with "Your wish is my command". Even Joe Jock from high school never heard that from Tiffany the Cheerleader.
Steve Jobs, you saved the best for last. Thank you from geeks everywhere.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Workplace Ecology
A newspaper ad from Warren County Recycling urges us to "Cut down on waste and get some extra mileage out of your holiday by packing up your post-turkey-day detritus as ecologically-sustainable workday meals". "Detritus", really? To me, detritus is the drumstick that Uncle Stanley spit out when his dentures failed. Detritus is the pumpkin pie crust that little Tiffany The Picky Eater left on her dessert plate or the stringy sweet potatoes that even the dog refused. Call me a Despoiler of the Earth, but that sort of stuff goes in the garbage.
Even good old Thanksgiving dinner "leftovers" pose a hazard when recycled into workday meals. When I began my journey through Cubicle Land in the early '70s, we either ate a cold brown-bagged lunch or departed the premises to a restaurant. Then microwaves appeared alongside the coffee, soda, and snack machines. The buttery scent of microwave popcorn would waft over the workplace. It was far more pleasing than the scent of smoldering Marlboros from the ashtray in the adjacent cubicle. (This was a lo-o-ong time ago).
Then lunchtime would arrive and the microwave would spew forth the odor from whatever Bob from Accounting couldn't finish at dinner last night. Bob was being "ecologically-sustainable" all right, but the fumes from his pork and sauerkraut leftovers overpowered not only the odiferous cloud from boss's pipe smoke but the secretary's cologne which had been known to cause the potted plants next to her desk to wilt.
Despite signs urging microwave users to clean up after themselves and the best efforts of the cleaning crew, splatter built up over time and re-cooked itself into a medley of odors. Bob's sauerkraut would combine with Chang's Chinese and Pradeep's curry residue for a "We Are The World" symphony of smells. At that point, the Marlboros weren't so bad.
I encourage our friends in Warren County to pack those "ecologically-sustainable workday meals". Just avoid pre-masticated "detritus" (You never know what caused Uncle Stanley's teeth to fall out in the first place) and please clean the microwave after use.
Even good old Thanksgiving dinner "leftovers" pose a hazard when recycled into workday meals. When I began my journey through Cubicle Land in the early '70s, we either ate a cold brown-bagged lunch or departed the premises to a restaurant. Then microwaves appeared alongside the coffee, soda, and snack machines. The buttery scent of microwave popcorn would waft over the workplace. It was far more pleasing than the scent of smoldering Marlboros from the ashtray in the adjacent cubicle. (This was a lo-o-ong time ago).
Then lunchtime would arrive and the microwave would spew forth the odor from whatever Bob from Accounting couldn't finish at dinner last night. Bob was being "ecologically-sustainable" all right, but the fumes from his pork and sauerkraut leftovers overpowered not only the odiferous cloud from boss's pipe smoke but the secretary's cologne which had been known to cause the potted plants next to her desk to wilt.
Despite signs urging microwave users to clean up after themselves and the best efforts of the cleaning crew, splatter built up over time and re-cooked itself into a medley of odors. Bob's sauerkraut would combine with Chang's Chinese and Pradeep's curry residue for a "We Are The World" symphony of smells. At that point, the Marlboros weren't so bad.
I encourage our friends in Warren County to pack those "ecologically-sustainable workday meals". Just avoid pre-masticated "detritus" (You never know what caused Uncle Stanley's teeth to fall out in the first place) and please clean the microwave after use.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Pulitzer, anyone?
Journalism is a tough racket. Young reporters must suffer through endless City Council meetings or high school field hockey games and then interview the principals for a newsworthy story. Is this how Woodward and Bernstein started?
Lehigh Valley news reporters will face their most challenging interviews yet this coming weekend when Comic Con comes to Allentown. Alas, this is a minor league Comic Con. Instead of an appearance by Captain Kirk or Mr Spock from the original "Star Trek", the best that Allentown can do is the doctor from "Star Trek - Voyager". Now, an interview with Dr McCoy from the original or with the sexy redhead doctor from "Next Generation" might be a career-maker for a local journalist, but Pulitzer-seeking reporters would be better served interviewing the guy dressed like a Klingon who lives in his parents' basement in Macungie.
There is hope for local scribes, however. Also appearing at Comic Con are the guy who played Chewbacca and the guy who did Yoda's voice in "Star Wars". It's not exactly "What did the President know and when did he know it?" but these probing questions could lead to a Page 1 by-line:
Q - "Chewbacca, is it The Force that makes Imperial Storm Troopers such crappy shots while every blast from you and Han drops a bad guy?"
A - "A-a-agh."
Q - "Yoda. you are three feet tall and have hands the size of a Kindergartener's. Still, you wield a full-size light saber and slay adult-size bad guys. How is that?"
A - "Matters not size. Special effects overcome."
Q - "Chewie, you are bigger, stronger, and a better pilot than Han Solo yet he's the one who gets all the glory and, no surprise, the girls. What do you have to say about that?"
A - "A-a-agh."
Q - "Yoda, Luke wasn't fully Jedi trained, yet George Lucas killed you off in "Return of the Jedi", why did he do that?"
A - (Out of character) The Department of Education claimed that kids across America were mangling grammar while claiming that it was part of their Jedi training. Verbal SAT scores were plummeting. The Feds threatened to give future "Star Wars" movies an X rating unless George killed me off. Then George killed off the franchise anyway by introducing Jar Jar Binks. Instead of hauling in millions doing Yoda's voice, here I am in Allentown working for peanuts. Thanks, George."
Now, there is a Pulitzer-winning interview.
Lehigh Valley news reporters will face their most challenging interviews yet this coming weekend when Comic Con comes to Allentown. Alas, this is a minor league Comic Con. Instead of an appearance by Captain Kirk or Mr Spock from the original "Star Trek", the best that Allentown can do is the doctor from "Star Trek - Voyager". Now, an interview with Dr McCoy from the original or with the sexy redhead doctor from "Next Generation" might be a career-maker for a local journalist, but Pulitzer-seeking reporters would be better served interviewing the guy dressed like a Klingon who lives in his parents' basement in Macungie.
There is hope for local scribes, however. Also appearing at Comic Con are the guy who played Chewbacca and the guy who did Yoda's voice in "Star Wars". It's not exactly "What did the President know and when did he know it?" but these probing questions could lead to a Page 1 by-line:
Q - "Chewbacca, is it The Force that makes Imperial Storm Troopers such crappy shots while every blast from you and Han drops a bad guy?"
A - "A-a-agh."
Q - "Yoda. you are three feet tall and have hands the size of a Kindergartener's. Still, you wield a full-size light saber and slay adult-size bad guys. How is that?"
A - "Matters not size. Special effects overcome."
Q - "Chewie, you are bigger, stronger, and a better pilot than Han Solo yet he's the one who gets all the glory and, no surprise, the girls. What do you have to say about that?"
A - "A-a-agh."
Q - "Yoda, Luke wasn't fully Jedi trained, yet George Lucas killed you off in "Return of the Jedi", why did he do that?"
A - (Out of character) The Department of Education claimed that kids across America were mangling grammar while claiming that it was part of their Jedi training. Verbal SAT scores were plummeting. The Feds threatened to give future "Star Wars" movies an X rating unless George killed me off. Then George killed off the franchise anyway by introducing Jar Jar Binks. Instead of hauling in millions doing Yoda's voice, here I am in Allentown working for peanuts. Thanks, George."
Now, there is a Pulitzer-winning interview.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Pretentious Cannibals
Advertising is the art of convincing consumers to purchase things that they neither want nor need. An effective advertising ploy is pretension. "Your appreciation of this product makes you a better person than the guy in the next cubicle."
Wine labels are the perfect vehicle for pretension in advertising. An actual chardonnay label reads, "Aromas of peach and melon greet you with slight hints of spice and vanilla. On the palate, white fruit and nectarine with spice lead to a crisp, dry finish. This is a perfect summer wine and matches well with shellfish or with friends on the patio."
Why, yes. My refined nose picked up those peach, melon, spice, and vanilla scents immediately and distinguished between them though I really couldn't determine which melon (perhaps muskmelon?) or which spice (definite indications of Sumatran cardamon). My trained palate sensed white fruit (from the apartheid tree?) and nectarine with spice (Let's see, there was Scary, Posh, Baby, and Nectarine with Spice, right?). I can't wait until summer to enjoy this wine while eating shellfish and especially while nibbling on friends on the patio. So few wines go with both shellfish and human flesh. Shrimp on the Barbie or Bob From Next Door on the patio grill, this wine is the perfect complement.
Maybe that is not what the wine advertisers meant. Still, one imagines pretentious cannibals flocking to purchase this particular vintage.
Wine labels are the perfect vehicle for pretension in advertising. An actual chardonnay label reads, "Aromas of peach and melon greet you with slight hints of spice and vanilla. On the palate, white fruit and nectarine with spice lead to a crisp, dry finish. This is a perfect summer wine and matches well with shellfish or with friends on the patio."
Why, yes. My refined nose picked up those peach, melon, spice, and vanilla scents immediately and distinguished between them though I really couldn't determine which melon (perhaps muskmelon?) or which spice (definite indications of Sumatran cardamon). My trained palate sensed white fruit (from the apartheid tree?) and nectarine with spice (Let's see, there was Scary, Posh, Baby, and Nectarine with Spice, right?). I can't wait until summer to enjoy this wine while eating shellfish and especially while nibbling on friends on the patio. So few wines go with both shellfish and human flesh. Shrimp on the Barbie or Bob From Next Door on the patio grill, this wine is the perfect complement.
Maybe that is not what the wine advertisers meant. Still, one imagines pretentious cannibals flocking to purchase this particular vintage.
Monday, November 14, 2011
President Pat or Alex
All it takes is one brilliant idea to achieve fame and fortune. Edison ran electricity through a filament in an evacuated bulb and next thing you know he is one of the wealthiest men in America. Bill Gates decided that typing in a few lines of MS-DOS code was no way to get on and surf the Internet, developed Windows, and earned enough money to eradicate malaria worldwide. But what great idea did Silvio Berlusconi come up with to earn billions and become Prime Minister of Italy?
According to an NPR segment yesterday, Silvio was a struggling TV game show producer in Italy when he decided to spice up the competition by having an attractive model remove a piece of clothing each time a contestant correctly answered a question. Ratings soared and Silvio took full advantage. Eventually, he bought out pretty much every TV network in Italy, entered politics, and the rest is history.
Would this work in America? Would Pat Sajak be our President today if Vanna White had to strip after every successful spin on the Wheel of Fortune? "I'd like to buy a vowel, Pat. Check that. I don't really care about the puzzle. I'd rather have Vanna remove her bra."
Would Alex Trebek be trading verbal ripostes with Mitt, Newt, Herman and the other candidates today if the correct answer to "Potent Potables" as a Daily Double offered the option of doubling one's winnings or removing the blouse of a rival contestant? The normally passive "Jeopardy" audience would become a frenzied "Jerry Springer Show"-like mob. Ratings would soar and Canadian Alex would become wealthy enough to obtain one of those fake US Birth Certificates enabling him to run for the presidency.
Based on Silvio Berlusconi's success, it could happen here. Republicans seeking a poised telegenic candidate need look no father than Pat Sajak or Alex Trebek. It's not too late to add gratuitous nudity to "Wheel" or "Jeopardy". The new and improved quiz shows would certainly draw higher ratings than the GOP Debates.
According to an NPR segment yesterday, Silvio was a struggling TV game show producer in Italy when he decided to spice up the competition by having an attractive model remove a piece of clothing each time a contestant correctly answered a question. Ratings soared and Silvio took full advantage. Eventually, he bought out pretty much every TV network in Italy, entered politics, and the rest is history.
Would this work in America? Would Pat Sajak be our President today if Vanna White had to strip after every successful spin on the Wheel of Fortune? "I'd like to buy a vowel, Pat. Check that. I don't really care about the puzzle. I'd rather have Vanna remove her bra."
Would Alex Trebek be trading verbal ripostes with Mitt, Newt, Herman and the other candidates today if the correct answer to "Potent Potables" as a Daily Double offered the option of doubling one's winnings or removing the blouse of a rival contestant? The normally passive "Jeopardy" audience would become a frenzied "Jerry Springer Show"-like mob. Ratings would soar and Canadian Alex would become wealthy enough to obtain one of those fake US Birth Certificates enabling him to run for the presidency.
Based on Silvio Berlusconi's success, it could happen here. Republicans seeking a poised telegenic candidate need look no father than Pat Sajak or Alex Trebek. It's not too late to add gratuitous nudity to "Wheel" or "Jeopardy". The new and improved quiz shows would certainly draw higher ratings than the GOP Debates.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Sometimes Losers Win
The news release stated, "In Viet Nam, the first Gap franchise opened in Ho Chi Minh City at the end of September and two more will follow in the city's commercial hub by the end of the year. "Asians are very aspirational. They have always wanted this," said a Gap spokesperson. The store opening featured trays of champagne and mint vodka with famous Vietnamese actors, models, and singers on hand."
So forty years after 60,000 young Americans of my generation died over there it turns out that the Vietnamese weren't really trying to topple the first domino that would lead to the spread of godless, monolithic Communism throughout Asia and then to the rest of the world. All they really wanted was to buy comfort fit, boot-length jeans. Instead of sending the 101st Airborne over there, we should have built a few Levi's Factory Outlets.
We veterans shouldn't be bitter on Veteran's Day. Still, it is interesting that young men (and women) have their lives shattered by war while corporations (who are people, too) survive and prosper even when they are on the losing side. It's no coincidence that Indiana Jones hung for dear life from a Mercedes-Benz hood ornament during that harrowing chase in the first movie. M-B manufactured many Wehrmacht vehicles and survived the war to put 350SLs on the driveways of our McMansions today. Bayer developed the gas used at Auschwitz and survived the war to put aspirin in our medicine chests. Mitsubishi built the Zero airplanes that strafed my father on Okinawa and survived to build cars and to can tuna. Meanwhile, Bethlehem Steel manufactured much of the armament that enabled us to win WW II and today is out of business. Maybe it's better to lose the war if you're a corporation.
Newscasters urge us to "thank a veteran for their service and sacrifice" today. Let's limit that to flesh and blood veterans who risked life, limb, and mental health. Our corporate (who are people, too) veterans will make out OK regardless.
So forty years after 60,000 young Americans of my generation died over there it turns out that the Vietnamese weren't really trying to topple the first domino that would lead to the spread of godless, monolithic Communism throughout Asia and then to the rest of the world. All they really wanted was to buy comfort fit, boot-length jeans. Instead of sending the 101st Airborne over there, we should have built a few Levi's Factory Outlets.
We veterans shouldn't be bitter on Veteran's Day. Still, it is interesting that young men (and women) have their lives shattered by war while corporations (who are people, too) survive and prosper even when they are on the losing side. It's no coincidence that Indiana Jones hung for dear life from a Mercedes-Benz hood ornament during that harrowing chase in the first movie. M-B manufactured many Wehrmacht vehicles and survived the war to put 350SLs on the driveways of our McMansions today. Bayer developed the gas used at Auschwitz and survived the war to put aspirin in our medicine chests. Mitsubishi built the Zero airplanes that strafed my father on Okinawa and survived to build cars and to can tuna. Meanwhile, Bethlehem Steel manufactured much of the armament that enabled us to win WW II and today is out of business. Maybe it's better to lose the war if you're a corporation.
Newscasters urge us to "thank a veteran for their service and sacrifice" today. Let's limit that to flesh and blood veterans who risked life, limb, and mental health. Our corporate (who are people, too) veterans will make out OK regardless.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Disclaimers
Disclaimers are interesting. The classic, of course, is "Seek medical attention if your erection lasts four hours or more" for Cialis. How do you explain that one to your child? "Well, Timmy, those people not wearing shirts and holding hands while sitting in adjacent bathtubs located outdoors for no apparent reason may catch a cold after four hours and need a doctor."
The disclaimer for protein-booster Muscle Milk states, "Contains no milk". Actually, this disclaimer might be a ploy to enter the lactose-intolerant market. "Tired of being picked on by those milk-swigging bullies in the cafeteria? Get on the Muscle Milk regimen. You'll be a Schwarzenegger in no time and free of gastric distress in the bargain."
Then there is the print advertisement lauding Panama as a tourist destination. To allay fears of disease while in-country, Panama offers free 30-day medical insurance to visitors. Clever tourists might take advantage of this. "My rheumatism is acting up again, Clara, and our HMO doesn't cover it anymore. Let's go to Panama. I'll get treatment and you can frolic in the Canal."
"Wait a minute. Here's a disclaimer. (The medical insurance) doesn't cover injuries as a result of foreign enemy invasion (war being declared or not), civil war, revolution, rebellion, insurrection, or other incidents or offenses against the country's internal security. In other words, come to Panama to relax and to get healthy unless there's a revolution in which case, you are out of luck. Darned lawyers and their disclaimers."
Muscle Milk's disclaimer probably will increase their business. Panama's will likely scare people away. Cialis's is just odd.
The disclaimer for protein-booster Muscle Milk states, "Contains no milk". Actually, this disclaimer might be a ploy to enter the lactose-intolerant market. "Tired of being picked on by those milk-swigging bullies in the cafeteria? Get on the Muscle Milk regimen. You'll be a Schwarzenegger in no time and free of gastric distress in the bargain."
Then there is the print advertisement lauding Panama as a tourist destination. To allay fears of disease while in-country, Panama offers free 30-day medical insurance to visitors. Clever tourists might take advantage of this. "My rheumatism is acting up again, Clara, and our HMO doesn't cover it anymore. Let's go to Panama. I'll get treatment and you can frolic in the Canal."
"Wait a minute. Here's a disclaimer. (The medical insurance) doesn't cover injuries as a result of foreign enemy invasion (war being declared or not), civil war, revolution, rebellion, insurrection, or other incidents or offenses against the country's internal security. In other words, come to Panama to relax and to get healthy unless there's a revolution in which case, you are out of luck. Darned lawyers and their disclaimers."
Muscle Milk's disclaimer probably will increase their business. Panama's will likely scare people away. Cialis's is just odd.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Secret Santa
I dreaded the Secret Santa Gift Exchange back in my working days. Invariably, I received a gift I had no use for but would have to display at least through January. "Oh wow! A paper weight with a jolly winter scene inside! Thanks a lot."
Secret Santa visited the Department of Homeland Security last week bearing three new surveillance drones. The problem is that DHS doesn't have operators or satellite band width for the seven drones that they already possess. In fact, the existing drones can only fly five days per week, so if you're planning to smuggle drugs or enter the country illegally, you really want to do it on weekends. Car rental and border hotel rates are cheaper then, too.
An anonymous Homeland Security official stated, "We didn't ask for these drones." How, then, in this time of burgeoning Federal deficits and threats to shut down the government if the debt ceiling is not raised. did DHS receive $32 million worth of aircraft that they can't operate anyway? Was $32 million the Secret Santa Gift Limit between Washington departments this year? "Darn, I drew Justice in Secret Santa, where can I find $32 million worth of gavels? Those things never wear out, but our judges will need them eventually, won't they?"
Actually, Homeland Security's Secret Santa is the Congressional Unmanned Systems Caucus. These fifty congressmen all have drone manufacturers or suppliers in their districts and those manufacturers expect some return for their $1.6 million in campaign contributions. Apparently, the $240 million spent for drones since 2005 isn't enough.
Homeland Security can always do what I did with my unwanted Secret Santa gifts. Hide them away for a few years and re-gift them. I can imagine the scene at the Department of Agriculture just before Christmas, 2015. "Oh wow! Three surveillance drones! Thanks so much, Homeland Security. We can use them as tiny, tiny grain silos until we figure out how to operate them."
Secret Santa visited the Department of Homeland Security last week bearing three new surveillance drones. The problem is that DHS doesn't have operators or satellite band width for the seven drones that they already possess. In fact, the existing drones can only fly five days per week, so if you're planning to smuggle drugs or enter the country illegally, you really want to do it on weekends. Car rental and border hotel rates are cheaper then, too.
An anonymous Homeland Security official stated, "We didn't ask for these drones." How, then, in this time of burgeoning Federal deficits and threats to shut down the government if the debt ceiling is not raised. did DHS receive $32 million worth of aircraft that they can't operate anyway? Was $32 million the Secret Santa Gift Limit between Washington departments this year? "Darn, I drew Justice in Secret Santa, where can I find $32 million worth of gavels? Those things never wear out, but our judges will need them eventually, won't they?"
Actually, Homeland Security's Secret Santa is the Congressional Unmanned Systems Caucus. These fifty congressmen all have drone manufacturers or suppliers in their districts and those manufacturers expect some return for their $1.6 million in campaign contributions. Apparently, the $240 million spent for drones since 2005 isn't enough.
Homeland Security can always do what I did with my unwanted Secret Santa gifts. Hide them away for a few years and re-gift them. I can imagine the scene at the Department of Agriculture just before Christmas, 2015. "Oh wow! Three surveillance drones! Thanks so much, Homeland Security. We can use them as tiny, tiny grain silos until we figure out how to operate them."
Monday, November 7, 2011
Brown Shoe Army Blues
7-Eleven is saying thanks this Veteran's Day with free Slurpees. Active duty, retired, and veteran GIs with proof of service get a frosty treat at no charge. In fact, Slurpee trailers will visit US military bases across the country this week. "All right, Private. You will consume that Slurpee by the numbers. 1 - Insert straw; 2 - Suck deep; 3 - Freeze that pea brain of yours."
From time immemorial, veteran soldiers have informed recruits that the Army was much tougher back in the day. Those of us who served in the 60s constantly heard about "the brown shoe Army" of the 40s. "You think that crawling through mud under barbed wire with live machine gun fire over your head is tough? In the brown shoe Army, that mud had hungry alligators in it." "You complain about running a mile in combat boots with your weapon held over your head? In the brown shoe Army, you ran that mile barefoot over broken glass holding a cinder block in each hand."
Actually, today's Army does seem like a kinder, gentler organization than I remember. Drill Instructors are no longer allowed to physically or verbally abuse recruits. In my first day of Basic Training, I stopped counting after 300 push-ups assessed for such infractions as "not standing close enough to my razor" and a loose thread on a buttonhole. Verbal abuse was actually educational. I never knew that four letter words could be strung together like that.
The Army has abolished KP. Recruits no longer rise at 0330 hrs and spend 18 hours washing and scrubbing the mess hall and its appurtenances with scalding hot water and bleach. To this day, my fingers are wrinkled and ghostly white.
And now, thanks to 7-Eleven, soldiers can sidle up to the Slurpee Mobile after a tough day for a frosty treat. Our brave lads (and lasses) in uniform deserve it, but back in my day, we didn't have anything like that. We drank warm tap water with salt tablets and were happy to have it.
Brown shoe Army guys, I know what you meant. They have it too easy nowadays.
From time immemorial, veteran soldiers have informed recruits that the Army was much tougher back in the day. Those of us who served in the 60s constantly heard about "the brown shoe Army" of the 40s. "You think that crawling through mud under barbed wire with live machine gun fire over your head is tough? In the brown shoe Army, that mud had hungry alligators in it." "You complain about running a mile in combat boots with your weapon held over your head? In the brown shoe Army, you ran that mile barefoot over broken glass holding a cinder block in each hand."
Actually, today's Army does seem like a kinder, gentler organization than I remember. Drill Instructors are no longer allowed to physically or verbally abuse recruits. In my first day of Basic Training, I stopped counting after 300 push-ups assessed for such infractions as "not standing close enough to my razor" and a loose thread on a buttonhole. Verbal abuse was actually educational. I never knew that four letter words could be strung together like that.
The Army has abolished KP. Recruits no longer rise at 0330 hrs and spend 18 hours washing and scrubbing the mess hall and its appurtenances with scalding hot water and bleach. To this day, my fingers are wrinkled and ghostly white.
And now, thanks to 7-Eleven, soldiers can sidle up to the Slurpee Mobile after a tough day for a frosty treat. Our brave lads (and lasses) in uniform deserve it, but back in my day, we didn't have anything like that. We drank warm tap water with salt tablets and were happy to have it.
Brown shoe Army guys, I know what you meant. They have it too easy nowadays.
Friday, November 4, 2011
Bang for the Buck
The debate rages on regarding tax rates. From the left, we hear, "The wealthiest 1% has a lower tax rate now than at any time in history." "Warren Buffet's secretary pays more to the IRS than he does." "General Electric paid zero taxes last year." From the right, we hear, "This is class warfare." "Increased tax rates will stifle job creation." "Higher taxes will limit the genius of a Steve Jobs or a Bill Gates and all the ensuing economic progress." "A 9-9-9 Plan or a 20% flat tax will solve all our problems."
But what does all this sound and fury mean to the common American? I'm reminded of a conversation I had with my father back in 1964. I had just learned how to fill out a Federal Income Tax form in Problems of Democracy class at school. The family Form 1040 that year showed that we owed the IRS a few bucks (and that on a whopping income of less than $5,000). When I gave my Dad the bad news, he said, "We will pay it because we have to. It is too bad, though. My tax dollars help to build an aircraft carrier or buy a bomb that will keep those Russkies on their side of the ocean and you know what? If Khruschev was in the White House, it wouldn't make a damn bit of difference to me. I'd still be spending ten hours a day loading and unloading sides of beef. Maybe my boss would be speaking Russian, but that's it."
Putting it in the simplest of terms, who gets more bang for his tax buck - the common man or the wealthiest 1%? Who benefits more when we spend $1 trillion to "stabilize" Iraq - the guy loading sides of beef or the executives at Exxon? Who loses more money if billions of tax dollars do not rescue those banks that are "too big to fail" - the guy living from paycheck to paycheck or the bankers who will miss out on their bonuses? Who gets richer when the government builds a "bridge to nowhere" in Alaska - the Walmart greeter in Cleveland whose tax dollars paid for it or the contractors whose political donations made it happen?
Fox News repeatedly informs us that 50% of taxpayers pay no tax at all (and a lot of them have cable TV and dishwashers!). Maybe that is at it should be. Updating my Dad's argument, if the Chinese call in their IOUs and take over, Dick Cheney and his Halliburton buddies have a lot more to lose than I do. Maybe they should pay to maintain the status quo.
But what does all this sound and fury mean to the common American? I'm reminded of a conversation I had with my father back in 1964. I had just learned how to fill out a Federal Income Tax form in Problems of Democracy class at school. The family Form 1040 that year showed that we owed the IRS a few bucks (and that on a whopping income of less than $5,000). When I gave my Dad the bad news, he said, "We will pay it because we have to. It is too bad, though. My tax dollars help to build an aircraft carrier or buy a bomb that will keep those Russkies on their side of the ocean and you know what? If Khruschev was in the White House, it wouldn't make a damn bit of difference to me. I'd still be spending ten hours a day loading and unloading sides of beef. Maybe my boss would be speaking Russian, but that's it."
Putting it in the simplest of terms, who gets more bang for his tax buck - the common man or the wealthiest 1%? Who benefits more when we spend $1 trillion to "stabilize" Iraq - the guy loading sides of beef or the executives at Exxon? Who loses more money if billions of tax dollars do not rescue those banks that are "too big to fail" - the guy living from paycheck to paycheck or the bankers who will miss out on their bonuses? Who gets richer when the government builds a "bridge to nowhere" in Alaska - the Walmart greeter in Cleveland whose tax dollars paid for it or the contractors whose political donations made it happen?
Fox News repeatedly informs us that 50% of taxpayers pay no tax at all (and a lot of them have cable TV and dishwashers!). Maybe that is at it should be. Updating my Dad's argument, if the Chinese call in their IOUs and take over, Dick Cheney and his Halliburton buddies have a lot more to lose than I do. Maybe they should pay to maintain the status quo.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
The Bladder's Revenge
During my working life, November was the cruelest month. Mornings involved crawling from a warm bed to a chilly bathroom, hopping into a shower that ranged from cold to hot in a heartbeat and the dreaded scraping frost from the windshield. Still, the worst part was waking up when it was still dark outside. The birds aren't even up yet, why should I be? When I'm retired, I will sleep until dawn at least. My diurnal clock insists on it.
Now I'm retired and guess what? I'm still fumbling around in the pre-dawn November darkness. Oh, I don't want to and I don't have to, but my aged lower back has other ideas. "There's no comfortable position for you in this nice warm bed. I will ache until you must arise and walk off the stiffness. By then, you will be properly chilled and totally awake. Bwahh-Ha-Ha!"
Then my bladder chimes in, "Even if you go back to bed just to warm up, I will magically re-fill and you will be popping up for a bathroom break in 5 minutes. Resistance is futile."
My brain cries out in anguish, "Why have I done to deserve this, lower back and bladder?"
They reply in unison, "You may not remember guzzling beer all night long then sleeping past noon on a lumpy couch or the bare, hard floor back in your college days, but we do. Do you have any idea how much stress that put on us? Now is the Time of Our Revenge"
Truly, "What goes around, comes around", not only in human-to-human interactions but also in the intra-human conflict.
Now I'm retired and guess what? I'm still fumbling around in the pre-dawn November darkness. Oh, I don't want to and I don't have to, but my aged lower back has other ideas. "There's no comfortable position for you in this nice warm bed. I will ache until you must arise and walk off the stiffness. By then, you will be properly chilled and totally awake. Bwahh-Ha-Ha!"
Then my bladder chimes in, "Even if you go back to bed just to warm up, I will magically re-fill and you will be popping up for a bathroom break in 5 minutes. Resistance is futile."
My brain cries out in anguish, "Why have I done to deserve this, lower back and bladder?"
They reply in unison, "You may not remember guzzling beer all night long then sleeping past noon on a lumpy couch or the bare, hard floor back in your college days, but we do. Do you have any idea how much stress that put on us? Now is the Time of Our Revenge"
Truly, "What goes around, comes around", not only in human-to-human interactions but also in the intra-human conflict.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Career Counseling
It's not too soon for high school seniors to begin pondering career choices. Straight to the work force or to college is just part of the decision More relevant is the Ultimate Goal. Wall Street or Occupy Wall Street? Athletics or Reality TV?
Recent news reports give some direction:
Obama's Jobs Bill appears to be dead in the water. All those "Job Creators" on Wall Street can pocket their multi-million dollar holiday bonuses without fear that Uncle Sam will take a larger chunk in taxes. Let's say that the average Wall Street top executive salary with bonuses comes in at about $2 million. That's about $5,000 per day. The average Occupy Wall Street remuneration is about $0 per day. It's a tough choice, but I'll take an office on Wall Street over a spot on the pavement outside it. The pay is better.
CC Sabathia signed a contract extension with the NY Yankees granting him a $30 million average annual paycheck over the next several years. There are about 200 days in the baseball season, so CC hauls in a cool $150,000 per day. The financially-astute among us should turn in that Wall Street pinstripe suit for Yankee pinstripes. And you don't have to wear a tie to work. That makes the decision even easier.
Kim Kardashian and Kris Humphries split up after 72 days of marriage. Reportedly, they were paid $12 million for the televised ceremony plus $2.5 million for exclusive photos. Rounding off, Kim and Kris averaged $200,000 per day of Reality TV wedded bliss. Take that, CC Sabathia!
So there are your career choices, Youth of America, along with the training you will need:
Occupy Wall Street - $0 per day. Prerequisites - Ability to sleep on cold pavement and forage for food. Recommended Training - Army Ranger Survival School.
Wall Street Executive - $5,000 per day. Prerequisites - Lack of conscience and overwhelming greed. Recommended Training - Top-ranked business school or viewing Michael Douglas' "Wall Street" until memorized.
NY Yankee - $150,000 per day. Prerequisites - Outstanding athletic ability or a friendly pharamacist. Recommended Training - If the guys pick a girl for their team before they pick you in grade school Dodgeball, you had best become acquainted with a Dominican pharmacist. Those muscles will get you to the big leagues and "steroid rage" will be a good legal defense when you are arrested after pulverizing those grade school bullies.
Reality TV Star - $200,000 per day. Prerequisites - None really. Significant cosmetic surgery helps and a viral You Tube sex video can't hurt. Recommended Training - Are you serious?
There you have it, Youth of America. Kim Kardashian is available now as is one of her sisters. Can you put up with her for $200,000 per day?
Recent news reports give some direction:
Obama's Jobs Bill appears to be dead in the water. All those "Job Creators" on Wall Street can pocket their multi-million dollar holiday bonuses without fear that Uncle Sam will take a larger chunk in taxes. Let's say that the average Wall Street top executive salary with bonuses comes in at about $2 million. That's about $5,000 per day. The average Occupy Wall Street remuneration is about $0 per day. It's a tough choice, but I'll take an office on Wall Street over a spot on the pavement outside it. The pay is better.
CC Sabathia signed a contract extension with the NY Yankees granting him a $30 million average annual paycheck over the next several years. There are about 200 days in the baseball season, so CC hauls in a cool $150,000 per day. The financially-astute among us should turn in that Wall Street pinstripe suit for Yankee pinstripes. And you don't have to wear a tie to work. That makes the decision even easier.
Kim Kardashian and Kris Humphries split up after 72 days of marriage. Reportedly, they were paid $12 million for the televised ceremony plus $2.5 million for exclusive photos. Rounding off, Kim and Kris averaged $200,000 per day of Reality TV wedded bliss. Take that, CC Sabathia!
So there are your career choices, Youth of America, along with the training you will need:
Occupy Wall Street - $0 per day. Prerequisites - Ability to sleep on cold pavement and forage for food. Recommended Training - Army Ranger Survival School.
Wall Street Executive - $5,000 per day. Prerequisites - Lack of conscience and overwhelming greed. Recommended Training - Top-ranked business school or viewing Michael Douglas' "Wall Street" until memorized.
NY Yankee - $150,000 per day. Prerequisites - Outstanding athletic ability or a friendly pharamacist. Recommended Training - If the guys pick a girl for their team before they pick you in grade school Dodgeball, you had best become acquainted with a Dominican pharmacist. Those muscles will get you to the big leagues and "steroid rage" will be a good legal defense when you are arrested after pulverizing those grade school bullies.
Reality TV Star - $200,000 per day. Prerequisites - None really. Significant cosmetic surgery helps and a viral You Tube sex video can't hurt. Recommended Training - Are you serious?
There you have it, Youth of America. Kim Kardashian is available now as is one of her sisters. Can you put up with her for $200,000 per day?
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
The (British) Empire Strikes Back
Fox News created a great brouhaha a couple of years ago when national retailers instructed their salespeople to wish customers "Happy Holidays". "They're taking the 'Christ' out of Christmas! This is another sign of America's decline!" Apparently, Fox News remembers when the Schuylkill Expressway was jammed with traffic on a Sunday morning headed for church instead of to the Eagles game. Ah, the good old days. They didn't actually exist, but they were terrific anyway.
Bill O'Reilly and Sean Hannity have a new bone to pick this year. Macy's announced yesterday that it will open all its stores at midnight on Thanksgiving for the first time ever. It will be offering Black Friday Specials starting at that time.
Macy's plan is actually more insidious than it appears on the surface. Its prime Black Friday Special, sure to draw families from fellowship over pumpkin pie, is a $65 Justin Bieber limited-edition fragrance gift set including a 3.4 ounce eau de parfum spray and the singer's new holiday CD. This is totally un-American! "3.4 ounces" is 500 grams. It's a blatant attempt to indoctrinate American youth into the metric system. "Eau de Parfum" sounds French to me. What ever happened to good old Americanized "Toilet Water"? Lastly, Justin Bieber is Canadian. What sort of holidays from The Great White North is he singing about? "We Wish You a Merry Boxing Day"? "Joy to the World. Victoria Day Is Come"? "Good King Wenceslas Looked Down on the Feast of Canada Day"?
I can hear Bill O'Reilly now. "First, they secularized Christmas. Now they're going after Thanksgiving. We kicked those Canadians' behinds in the War of 1812 and this is their revenge. Wake up, America!"
Bill O'Reilly and Sean Hannity have a new bone to pick this year. Macy's announced yesterday that it will open all its stores at midnight on Thanksgiving for the first time ever. It will be offering Black Friday Specials starting at that time.
Macy's plan is actually more insidious than it appears on the surface. Its prime Black Friday Special, sure to draw families from fellowship over pumpkin pie, is a $65 Justin Bieber limited-edition fragrance gift set including a 3.4 ounce eau de parfum spray and the singer's new holiday CD. This is totally un-American! "3.4 ounces" is 500 grams. It's a blatant attempt to indoctrinate American youth into the metric system. "Eau de Parfum" sounds French to me. What ever happened to good old Americanized "Toilet Water"? Lastly, Justin Bieber is Canadian. What sort of holidays from The Great White North is he singing about? "We Wish You a Merry Boxing Day"? "Joy to the World. Victoria Day Is Come"? "Good King Wenceslas Looked Down on the Feast of Canada Day"?
I can hear Bill O'Reilly now. "First, they secularized Christmas. Now they're going after Thanksgiving. We kicked those Canadians' behinds in the War of 1812 and this is their revenge. Wake up, America!"
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