Ron Paul's campaign could use a boost. All it takes to rise to prominence in the Republican primaries is a concept that those evangelical voters can sink their teeth into. Rick Santorum was wallowing in the depths of the polls until he came up with "Maybe JFK (and the Constitution) were wrong. We need more, not less, church influence in matters of state." Look where he is today. He can now afford a suit and tie as opposed to that sweater vest he sported in Iowa and New Hampshire.
Ron Paul supports, among other things, a return to the gold standard. The dollar will remain strong and the economy will prosper as long as each and every greenback is backed with a little piece of Fort Knox. This concept is too esoteric for the common voter.
Ron should alter his economic policy to appeal to the masses. A news item in yesterday's paper has a great idea - Back the dollar with detergent.
When police raided a suspected drug den in Washington, they found cocaine as usual and something unusual - shelves filled with large jugs of laundry detergent. Druggies were paying for their fix not with cash but with Tide Extra Brightening Formula. Police explained, "Everyone needs detergent. It's easy to re-sell, and it doesn't spoil."
Why not back the dollar with Tide? Unlike gold or oil, we make plenty of it right here in America. Those Saudis will certainly send us all the oil we want if instead of dollars whose value fluctuates, we paid them in detergent. Burkhas get plenty dirty with all that Arabian sand in the air over there. If we slip a few jugs of Tide to Mrs Taliban to ease her laundry day burden, she may convince Mr Taliban not to plant those roadside IEDs. Why should drug kingpins be the only ones with "springtime fresh" and clean clothes?
Ron Paul, the nomination is there for the taking. Think a little further outside the box.
Friday, March 16, 2012
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Muppets on Wall Street
"Too big to fail" financial giant Goldman Sachs recovering from the 2008 Meltdown but still doling out average $400 K annual paydays to its principal employees got a bit of a public relations black eye yesterday. Greg Smith, an executive director of the firm, published his resignation letter in the NY Times. Greg accused Goldman of losing its moral fiber, putting profits ahead of customer interest, and dismissing customers as "muppets".
That is an insult to Kermit, Miss Piggy, and Fozzie Bear, sir! Actual Muppets would not be so stupid as to purchase sub-prime mortgages from Goldman when Goldman covered itself by buying derivatives that profit when the mortgage packages inevitably fail. Actual Muppets would not accept government bail-out money to recover from a financial crisis that they caused. Living up to "The Rainbow Connection" requires a higher morality than complying with 2008 SEC Rules.
Greg Smith is in his early thirties. Take some advice from a 30 year veteran of the Corporate Wars, Greg. There is not now, nor has there ever been, morality in the Boardroom. Andrew Carnegie built all those libraries "to educate the common American" while he called in the National Guard to slaughter innocent strikers in the Homestead Massacre. Leland Stanford founded a wonderful university while building the transcontinental railroad on the backs of imported Chinese labor. As soon as the railroad was complete, he made sure that immigration laws forbade their families to join them here. Nowadays, corporations "declare bankruptcy" to get out from under employee pension and health care costs. Look up American Airlines this year and Bethlehem Steel twenty years ago.
If you seek morality in your workplace, Greg, Sesame Street is the place for you. Wall Street is not.
That is an insult to Kermit, Miss Piggy, and Fozzie Bear, sir! Actual Muppets would not be so stupid as to purchase sub-prime mortgages from Goldman when Goldman covered itself by buying derivatives that profit when the mortgage packages inevitably fail. Actual Muppets would not accept government bail-out money to recover from a financial crisis that they caused. Living up to "The Rainbow Connection" requires a higher morality than complying with 2008 SEC Rules.
Greg Smith is in his early thirties. Take some advice from a 30 year veteran of the Corporate Wars, Greg. There is not now, nor has there ever been, morality in the Boardroom. Andrew Carnegie built all those libraries "to educate the common American" while he called in the National Guard to slaughter innocent strikers in the Homestead Massacre. Leland Stanford founded a wonderful university while building the transcontinental railroad on the backs of imported Chinese labor. As soon as the railroad was complete, he made sure that immigration laws forbade their families to join them here. Nowadays, corporations "declare bankruptcy" to get out from under employee pension and health care costs. Look up American Airlines this year and Bethlehem Steel twenty years ago.
If you seek morality in your workplace, Greg, Sesame Street is the place for you. Wall Street is not.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Subtle Revenge
The new season of "Mad Men" begins this month. A big part of the show's charm is that it accurately reflects corporate life when I began my time in Cubicle Land in 1972. The guys got to smoke wherever and whenever. Many had a bottle of booze in their desk drawer. Long, liquid lunches were the norm for some.
Meanwhile, the "girls" were subject to sexual harrassment and had no chance of advancing beyond Executive Secretary. But they did extract a subtle revenge on "The Man". Even a 110 pound stenographer could exert unbelievable pressure on a very small floor area with her stilleto heels. Tile floors were the norm in the Steno Pool room. It didn't take long for its surface to resemble the pockmarked moon. As a Facilities Engineer, I was replacing floor tile on an annual basis. The carpeted Executive Offices and Conference Rooms fared little better. Drink spills could be cleaned. Cigarette burns could be covered over. Pathways subject to stilleto heel traffic eroded faster than a snowbank in Florida. Again, I had to replace office carpeting regularly.
Is it coincidence that when corporations banned sexual harrassment, established Equal Opportunity based on gender, and curbed some of the "good old boy" excesses in the late 70s that women began sporting large clunky (and weight-distributing) heels? Floor covering life expanded proportionately with opportunities for women in the work place.
"Mad Men" plans to bring Don Draper and his firm through the 70s. I wonder if the show will pick up on this subtle change in teh workplace.
Meanwhile, the "girls" were subject to sexual harrassment and had no chance of advancing beyond Executive Secretary. But they did extract a subtle revenge on "The Man". Even a 110 pound stenographer could exert unbelievable pressure on a very small floor area with her stilleto heels. Tile floors were the norm in the Steno Pool room. It didn't take long for its surface to resemble the pockmarked moon. As a Facilities Engineer, I was replacing floor tile on an annual basis. The carpeted Executive Offices and Conference Rooms fared little better. Drink spills could be cleaned. Cigarette burns could be covered over. Pathways subject to stilleto heel traffic eroded faster than a snowbank in Florida. Again, I had to replace office carpeting regularly.
Is it coincidence that when corporations banned sexual harrassment, established Equal Opportunity based on gender, and curbed some of the "good old boy" excesses in the late 70s that women began sporting large clunky (and weight-distributing) heels? Floor covering life expanded proportionately with opportunities for women in the work place.
"Mad Men" plans to bring Don Draper and his firm through the 70s. I wonder if the show will pick up on this subtle change in teh workplace.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Spanglish
VThe best thing on TV last night was the NBA game between the Chicago Bulls and the N.Y. Knicks. Actually, according to the jersey logos worn by the teams it was between "Nueva York" and "Los Bulls". In an effort to expand their fan base to the Hispanic population (and to sell more jerseys), the marketing geniuses at NBA headquarters dictated that all teams have "Latin Night" games with the special uniforms.
This is about as insulting to Hispanics as those ubiquitous bumper stickers that read "If you want to stay in my country, speak English". Using Spanish adjectives and articles with English proper nouns implies that either Spanish speakers can't figure out where "New York" is or that English speakers don't know that "Toro" means "Bull" not to be confused with "expensive lawn mower". Give us sports fans credit for some intelligence, NBA.
Is the next step to expand the Spanish modifiers on English nouns to play-by-ply broadcasts? "There's a salto (jump) shot by Kobe and los Lakers take a grande siete (big seven) point lead." "Garnett drives to el basket for a corriendo (running) uno (one) hander and it's bueno (good)." Will Spanglish become the lingua franca for sports broadcasts?
If nothing else, it will help struggling high school Spanish students have a painless (sin dolor) immersion into the language. And they say that sports aren't educational.
This is about as insulting to Hispanics as those ubiquitous bumper stickers that read "If you want to stay in my country, speak English". Using Spanish adjectives and articles with English proper nouns implies that either Spanish speakers can't figure out where "New York" is or that English speakers don't know that "Toro" means "Bull" not to be confused with "expensive lawn mower". Give us sports fans credit for some intelligence, NBA.
Is the next step to expand the Spanish modifiers on English nouns to play-by-ply broadcasts? "There's a salto (jump) shot by Kobe and los Lakers take a grande siete (big seven) point lead." "Garnett drives to el basket for a corriendo (running) uno (one) hander and it's bueno (good)." Will Spanglish become the lingua franca for sports broadcasts?
If nothing else, it will help struggling high school Spanish students have a painless (sin dolor) immersion into the language. And they say that sports aren't educational.
Monday, March 12, 2012
A Sign of Home
The Lehigh Valley has many distinctive landmarks. There are the Civil War monuments at the very center of Easton and Allentown not to mention Bethlehem Steel's blast furnaces. For long-time Valley residents, though, the giant heads of Manny, Moe, and Jack - the Pep Boys on MacArthur Road are a welcome sign of home.
Alas, the Pep Boys have suffered the ravages of time. Wind and weather have eroded their visages. Last week, repairs were made, and Manny, Moe, and Jack once more smile down on the Lehigh Valley's main shopping drag in their full glory. I've not seen the 2012 version of MM&J. The originals sported 1940s hair styles and glasses which is appropriate since Pep Boys began just after WW II. Was this Pep Boys chance to update their corporate image to the new millennium? Do the new Manny and Jack sport Justin Bieber sweeping hairstyles? Does Moe now peer down through designer rimless eyeglasses? Moe's original perfectly round glasses are sort of hipster cool, but today's hipsters are probably not Pep Boys' target clientele for discount tires.
Resist the temptation to update Manny, Moe, and Jack's look, I say. George, Tom, Teddy, and Abe up there on Mount Rushmore do not get a makeover every fifty years or so to fit in with current stylistic trends. Those outdated haircuts and glasses on MM&J scream tradition and home.
Alas, the Pep Boys have suffered the ravages of time. Wind and weather have eroded their visages. Last week, repairs were made, and Manny, Moe, and Jack once more smile down on the Lehigh Valley's main shopping drag in their full glory. I've not seen the 2012 version of MM&J. The originals sported 1940s hair styles and glasses which is appropriate since Pep Boys began just after WW II. Was this Pep Boys chance to update their corporate image to the new millennium? Do the new Manny and Jack sport Justin Bieber sweeping hairstyles? Does Moe now peer down through designer rimless eyeglasses? Moe's original perfectly round glasses are sort of hipster cool, but today's hipsters are probably not Pep Boys' target clientele for discount tires.
Resist the temptation to update Manny, Moe, and Jack's look, I say. George, Tom, Teddy, and Abe up there on Mount Rushmore do not get a makeover every fifty years or so to fit in with current stylistic trends. Those outdated haircuts and glasses on MM&J scream tradition and home.
Friday, March 9, 2012
Sleep and Chads
The myth that you sleep worse as you get older is not true according to a study published in the journal "Sleep". (Talk about your niche publications. Is there a sister journal titled "Eat" and another titled "Breathe" all under the "How I Know I'm Alive" mast head?)
The study examined sleep quality in 150,000 Americans. People 80 and older reported the soundest slumber. Oh, really? In my experience at age 64, if it isn't the old enlarged prostate getting me up to urinate every four hours or so, it is the slipped disc causing agony when I flip over the wrong way or the dull throb from my shoulder that doesn't seem to go away. It is definitely lower quality sleep than those 10 to 12 hour slumber marathons that followed all-night study sessions or celebrations in my college days. "A healthy mind in a healthy body" can be extended to "Better sleep when your aged body is not disintegrating".
How can a validated scientific study have reached such a false conclusion? How could Al Gore have lost the 2000 election in Florida with those "hanging chads"? Old people, myself included, do not take well to technology. Surely, the Sleep Study did not invite 150,000 folks to sack out in a single controlled environment. Participants had to log on to their computers each morning and fill in a no-doubt confusing questionnaire on how they slept the night before. Computer literate young folks pointed and clicked on the proper little circles. Like the chads on the Florida ballot, we old-timers missed the mark repeatedly.
The end results were that G.W. Bush became president and old folks became known as champion sleepers. The benefits of technology stop as we age.
The study examined sleep quality in 150,000 Americans. People 80 and older reported the soundest slumber. Oh, really? In my experience at age 64, if it isn't the old enlarged prostate getting me up to urinate every four hours or so, it is the slipped disc causing agony when I flip over the wrong way or the dull throb from my shoulder that doesn't seem to go away. It is definitely lower quality sleep than those 10 to 12 hour slumber marathons that followed all-night study sessions or celebrations in my college days. "A healthy mind in a healthy body" can be extended to "Better sleep when your aged body is not disintegrating".
How can a validated scientific study have reached such a false conclusion? How could Al Gore have lost the 2000 election in Florida with those "hanging chads"? Old people, myself included, do not take well to technology. Surely, the Sleep Study did not invite 150,000 folks to sack out in a single controlled environment. Participants had to log on to their computers each morning and fill in a no-doubt confusing questionnaire on how they slept the night before. Computer literate young folks pointed and clicked on the proper little circles. Like the chads on the Florida ballot, we old-timers missed the mark repeatedly.
The end results were that G.W. Bush became president and old folks became known as champion sleepers. The benefits of technology stop as we age.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Oh, Canada
I have a love / hate relationship with Canada.
On the positive side, our neighbours (Canadian spelling) to the north gave us hockey, round bacon for our Egg McMuffins and two of my favourite (Canadian spelling) comedians in Dan Ackroyd and Mike Myers. Offsetting that, the Great White North sent us those pesky geese, winter chill, and the questionable musical talents of Celine Dion and Justin Bieber. One more chorus of "My Heart Must Go On" or "Baby, Baby, Baby" and I will join Leo beneath the frigid waters of the North Atlantic.
There is a new reason to respect those Canucks. To demonstrate the dangers of not having password protection on iPhones, Symantec (which surprisingly offers such a service) dropped ten phones in four US and one Canadian city. The iPhones contained accessible personal data including another phone number for the apparent owner. They also included tracking softwear. All fifty were picked up and used. Seven of the ten iPhones dropped in Ottawa were expeditiously returned to the apparent owner. Meanwhile, thirty of the forty American finders are still trying to crack the code. "Finders, keepers! I'll get into this clown's bank accounts and empty them. It's the American Way."
Canadians, we apologize for that unpleasantness in the War of 1812. If we had known how honest 70% of you are, we would never have invaded. Just take Celine and Justin back and all will be forgiven.
On the positive side, our neighbours (Canadian spelling) to the north gave us hockey, round bacon for our Egg McMuffins and two of my favourite (Canadian spelling) comedians in Dan Ackroyd and Mike Myers. Offsetting that, the Great White North sent us those pesky geese, winter chill, and the questionable musical talents of Celine Dion and Justin Bieber. One more chorus of "My Heart Must Go On" or "Baby, Baby, Baby" and I will join Leo beneath the frigid waters of the North Atlantic.
There is a new reason to respect those Canucks. To demonstrate the dangers of not having password protection on iPhones, Symantec (which surprisingly offers such a service) dropped ten phones in four US and one Canadian city. The iPhones contained accessible personal data including another phone number for the apparent owner. They also included tracking softwear. All fifty were picked up and used. Seven of the ten iPhones dropped in Ottawa were expeditiously returned to the apparent owner. Meanwhile, thirty of the forty American finders are still trying to crack the code. "Finders, keepers! I'll get into this clown's bank accounts and empty them. It's the American Way."
Canadians, we apologize for that unpleasantness in the War of 1812. If we had known how honest 70% of you are, we would never have invaded. Just take Celine and Justin back and all will be forgiven.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Tourist Magnets
Pennsylvania has much to offer tourists. The Keystone State has historical sites (Valley Forge, Gettysburg), amusement parks (Dorney, Kennywood), outdoor recreation (Laurel Highlands Hiking Trail, Appalachian Trail), and fireworks stores aplenty, all well-marked at exits from I-78 or the PA Turnpike.
I discovered two additional tourist magnets during a drive across the state yesterday. They are a tad off-beat even in comparison to the inimitable Roadside America Miniature Village and PA Dutch Gift Shop with the ominous Giant Farmer Wielding a Pitchfork Statue alongside I-78 in Shartlesville. I still have nightmares about that statue coming to life and wreaking havoc like the Sta-Puf Marshmallow Man in "Ghostbusters".
The first is "World of Pigeons" west of Carlisle. This hidden gem does not rate a mention on the blue "Attractions This Exit" highway sign. In fact, "World of Pigeons, Exit Here" is rather crudely painted on a barn visible from the Turnpike. One's imagination staggers at the possibilities. Is WoP fully-staffed by pigeons? Pigeon cooks and wait staff serving tourists in the restaurant? Pigeon security maintaining order? Pigeon aerobats conducting coordinated fly-overs to the oohs and ahs of the crowd? Precision dropping of pigeon droppings? Pigeons dressed in various national costumes cooing "It's a Pigeon World After All" at the finale of each performance?
The second hidden tourist attraction has no signage, but is sadly familiar to those of us without a CD player or an iPod connection in our car. It is the Place Where Radio Waves Go To Die. We drive through the Turnpike tunnels west of Carlisle singing along to Classic or Soft Rock on our car radios when suddenly static then silence ensue. For 100 miles between the Kittanning and Tuscarora Tunnels, we fiddle with the "scan" feature to no avail. At the higher points on the road, we may catch a faint echo of Rush Limbaugh, but even El Rushmo cannot overcome the Mordor of Radio that is west-central PA.
This could be a tourist attraction for those seeking a return to a simpler time. "Tired of those irritating cell phone calls, text messages, and Tweets that interrupt your solitude? Hoping to entertain your kids the same way that Daniel Boone and the pioneers did in the pre-Electronic Age? Come to the Place Where Radio Waves Go To Die, and it is 1770 all over again!"
Pennsylvania may not have Disney World or Sea World, but Florida doesn't have World of Pigeons or The Place Where Radio Waves Go To Die.
I discovered two additional tourist magnets during a drive across the state yesterday. They are a tad off-beat even in comparison to the inimitable Roadside America Miniature Village and PA Dutch Gift Shop with the ominous Giant Farmer Wielding a Pitchfork Statue alongside I-78 in Shartlesville. I still have nightmares about that statue coming to life and wreaking havoc like the Sta-Puf Marshmallow Man in "Ghostbusters".
The first is "World of Pigeons" west of Carlisle. This hidden gem does not rate a mention on the blue "Attractions This Exit" highway sign. In fact, "World of Pigeons, Exit Here" is rather crudely painted on a barn visible from the Turnpike. One's imagination staggers at the possibilities. Is WoP fully-staffed by pigeons? Pigeon cooks and wait staff serving tourists in the restaurant? Pigeon security maintaining order? Pigeon aerobats conducting coordinated fly-overs to the oohs and ahs of the crowd? Precision dropping of pigeon droppings? Pigeons dressed in various national costumes cooing "It's a Pigeon World After All" at the finale of each performance?
The second hidden tourist attraction has no signage, but is sadly familiar to those of us without a CD player or an iPod connection in our car. It is the Place Where Radio Waves Go To Die. We drive through the Turnpike tunnels west of Carlisle singing along to Classic or Soft Rock on our car radios when suddenly static then silence ensue. For 100 miles between the Kittanning and Tuscarora Tunnels, we fiddle with the "scan" feature to no avail. At the higher points on the road, we may catch a faint echo of Rush Limbaugh, but even El Rushmo cannot overcome the Mordor of Radio that is west-central PA.
This could be a tourist attraction for those seeking a return to a simpler time. "Tired of those irritating cell phone calls, text messages, and Tweets that interrupt your solitude? Hoping to entertain your kids the same way that Daniel Boone and the pioneers did in the pre-Electronic Age? Come to the Place Where Radio Waves Go To Die, and it is 1770 all over again!"
Pennsylvania may not have Disney World or Sea World, but Florida doesn't have World of Pigeons or The Place Where Radio Waves Go To Die.
Monday, March 5, 2012
Gateway Crustacean
The descent into a life of crime begins with a simple gateway.
Shoplifting seems innocent enough. "Wal Mart will never miss this pack of gum and they made plenty of money off me in the past." Then the criminal seeks bigger thrills.
So it was for Charles Shumanis of Allentown last week. Charles walked out of a supermarket without paying for $350 worth of lobster. Confronted by store employees, he fled on foot to a nearby restaurant parking lot. He noticed a 79 year old man getting into his car, leaped into the passenger seat, and ordered the victim to drive. The septuagenarian was having none of it. He tried to exit the vehicle. Charles slid behind the wheel, dragged the poor old man 50 feet before he fell off, and led the police on a merry chase. Charles and his lobsters were quickly apprehended though.
In a statement, police noted that "Many people charged with stealing high end food and health products are doing so to sell the products for cash. That money is then used to support a drug habit." There you have it. Marijuana has long been noted as the "gateway drug" leading to crack, cocaine, and heroin abuse. Apparently, lobster is the "gateway crustacean" leading to carjacking, assault, and even more heinous crimes. Is it now time to criminalize lobster possession? Will shady characters approach innocent schoolchildren with a cup of melted butter saying, "You know what goes great with this? Lobster! Have a sample. All the cool kids are doing it." Was this how Charles began his life of crime?
Even the police are not immune to gateway drug corruption. There are well-documented incidents of drugs seized during arrests "disappearing" from police evidence storage. Surely, evidentiary lobster must also be held pending trial of the accused. Imagine the temptation to sneak just a few succulent crustaceans home for that anniversary dinner. "Charles will be convicted for $300 worth of lobster just as easily as for $350 worth, and I forgot to get a gift for the wife."
Enjoy your lobster while you can. Crustacean Prohibition may be just around the corner.
Shoplifting seems innocent enough. "Wal Mart will never miss this pack of gum and they made plenty of money off me in the past." Then the criminal seeks bigger thrills.
So it was for Charles Shumanis of Allentown last week. Charles walked out of a supermarket without paying for $350 worth of lobster. Confronted by store employees, he fled on foot to a nearby restaurant parking lot. He noticed a 79 year old man getting into his car, leaped into the passenger seat, and ordered the victim to drive. The septuagenarian was having none of it. He tried to exit the vehicle. Charles slid behind the wheel, dragged the poor old man 50 feet before he fell off, and led the police on a merry chase. Charles and his lobsters were quickly apprehended though.
In a statement, police noted that "Many people charged with stealing high end food and health products are doing so to sell the products for cash. That money is then used to support a drug habit." There you have it. Marijuana has long been noted as the "gateway drug" leading to crack, cocaine, and heroin abuse. Apparently, lobster is the "gateway crustacean" leading to carjacking, assault, and even more heinous crimes. Is it now time to criminalize lobster possession? Will shady characters approach innocent schoolchildren with a cup of melted butter saying, "You know what goes great with this? Lobster! Have a sample. All the cool kids are doing it." Was this how Charles began his life of crime?
Even the police are not immune to gateway drug corruption. There are well-documented incidents of drugs seized during arrests "disappearing" from police evidence storage. Surely, evidentiary lobster must also be held pending trial of the accused. Imagine the temptation to sneak just a few succulent crustaceans home for that anniversary dinner. "Charles will be convicted for $300 worth of lobster just as easily as for $350 worth, and I forgot to get a gift for the wife."
Enjoy your lobster while you can. Crustacean Prohibition may be just around the corner.
Friday, March 2, 2012
Side Effects
Daytime TV has plenty of commercials aimed at us seniors. They range from the practical (Cell phones with giant illuminated number keys and none of those trendy options that only kids go for like programmable ring tones) to the dainty (Never again suffer the embarrassment of running into friends in the Adult Incontinence Aisle. We ship your needed items to you in unmarked packages!).
The preeminent product advertised is drugs. "Ask your doctor about our brand name drug before its patent expires and we have to reduce its price by half to match that of generics that are just as good."
That darned over-regulating, job-killing government requires that the commercials mention drug side effects. Everyone knows the classic "For erections lasting more than four hours, seek immediate medical assistance." Everyone tunes out "Side effects include dizziness, drowsiness, and constipation." Hey, I get those from eating rutabaga.
Only Abilify, a drug for schizophrenia, states "Side effects may include death." Now, there's a side effect. Its website notes that elderly patients on Abilify suffered nearly two times the death rate of those on a placebo, 4.5% versus 2.6%.
I will risk a four hour erection. I will take a chance on dizziness, drowsiness, and constipation. I will think twice before taking a pill that doubles my chance of death. Maybe that over-regulating, job-killing government is doing us all a favor by requiring mention of side effects.
The preeminent product advertised is drugs. "Ask your doctor about our brand name drug before its patent expires and we have to reduce its price by half to match that of generics that are just as good."
That darned over-regulating, job-killing government requires that the commercials mention drug side effects. Everyone knows the classic "For erections lasting more than four hours, seek immediate medical assistance." Everyone tunes out "Side effects include dizziness, drowsiness, and constipation." Hey, I get those from eating rutabaga.
Only Abilify, a drug for schizophrenia, states "Side effects may include death." Now, there's a side effect. Its website notes that elderly patients on Abilify suffered nearly two times the death rate of those on a placebo, 4.5% versus 2.6%.
I will risk a four hour erection. I will take a chance on dizziness, drowsiness, and constipation. I will think twice before taking a pill that doubles my chance of death. Maybe that over-regulating, job-killing government is doing us all a favor by requiring mention of side effects.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Musical Snob
Call me a musical snob, but I've always felt that pop music has gone straight downhill since 1967, not unlike my waistline and my hairline. Motown had not yet descended into Jackson 5 bubble gum pseudo-soul. Aretha Franklin and Otis Redding were the vanguard of the Memphis sound. The Rolling Stones were brilliant. And the Beatles gave us "Sgt Pepper".
Still, America prefers its music a bit less threatening than "Midnight Hour", "Time Has Come Today", or "A Day In The Life". During the remembrances on the passing of Davy Jones today, it was mentioned that Davy had the best-selling album of 1967 - "More Monkees". I couldn't believe it. Everyone that I knew back in '67 had "Sgt Pepper" and no one admitted to possessing "More Monkees". Sure enough, an Internet search showed that more people bought an LP featuring "Last Train to Clarksville" than with "Lucy In The Sky". Never underestimate the taste of the American public.
1967 was not an aberration. The best-selling album of 1966 was Herb Alpert's "Whipped Cream", a trumpet-led instrumental. Of course, it outsold such trivialities as the Beatles "Revolver" and the Beach Boys "Pet Sounds". Don't we all go around whistling Herb's "Tijuana Taxi" 45 years later as opposed to "Help Me Rhonda"?
Actually, even a "Music went straight downhill ever since Otis died" snob like me can still recite every word of that catchy "Monkees" theme. RIP, Davy Jones.
Still, America prefers its music a bit less threatening than "Midnight Hour", "Time Has Come Today", or "A Day In The Life". During the remembrances on the passing of Davy Jones today, it was mentioned that Davy had the best-selling album of 1967 - "More Monkees". I couldn't believe it. Everyone that I knew back in '67 had "Sgt Pepper" and no one admitted to possessing "More Monkees". Sure enough, an Internet search showed that more people bought an LP featuring "Last Train to Clarksville" than with "Lucy In The Sky". Never underestimate the taste of the American public.
1967 was not an aberration. The best-selling album of 1966 was Herb Alpert's "Whipped Cream", a trumpet-led instrumental. Of course, it outsold such trivialities as the Beatles "Revolver" and the Beach Boys "Pet Sounds". Don't we all go around whistling Herb's "Tijuana Taxi" 45 years later as opposed to "Help Me Rhonda"?
Actually, even a "Music went straight downhill ever since Otis died" snob like me can still recite every word of that catchy "Monkees" theme. RIP, Davy Jones.
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