Something Completely Different

Sauced

2012-02-08T06:32:00.001-08:00

Denver Broncos running back Knoshawn Moreno was arrested for DUI in the wee hours after the Super Bowl. Lots of drivers probably got nailed after imbibing those specially priced $5 pitchers of beer at a bar during the Big Game. What set Knoshawn apart was:

He was speeding along at 75 mph in a 45 mph Construction Zone. It's always a good idea to read those "Construction Zone - Speed Limits Strictly Enforced" signs, Big Guy.

He was driving his Bentley. It's hard to escape police notice while driving a vehicle that costs more than an officer earns in two years.

Knoshawn lacked car insurance. The man can afford a $200 K car, but "forgot" to insure it. How can you miss all those commercials with the cute little lizard, Knoshawn?

The Bentley's vanity license plate read "Sauced". It could have been more inflammatory to police sensibilities though. A vanity plate reading "Drunk" with a bumper sticker stating "My Other Car Is a Bar Stool" gets you pulled over for sure.

Football commentators constantly remind us that it is a mental as much as a physical game. Playbooks have more pages than "War and Peace" and players must memorize every formation, pass route, blocking scheme, and defensive alignment. Genius whether in particle physics or the finer points of the screen pass does not necessarily imply common sense. Knoshawn failed the common sense test when he barrelled along in his Bentley that night.

Safety-Sensitive

2012-02-07T07:35:00.001-08:00

You know it's an election year when the Florida legislature has passed and the Pennsylvania legislature is considering a bill to require welfare recipients to be tested for drugs. "We are not letting your hard-earned tax dollars be used to support freeloaders' drug habits!" "Your employer requires that you pee in the bottle. Why not make welfare recipients do the same?" "We will clean the welfare rolls of druggies and it won't cost us much because we will require those freeloaders to pay for the drug tests and only recompense them if they pass."

Sounds great, doesn't it?

The problem is that you cannot legislate morality (Prohibition worked so well back in the '20s, didn't it?) and people will always find a way to scam the system. Only 2% of Florida's tests came back positive. Welfare rolls remained at the same levels, and the program ended up costing millions for the compensated drug tests. That part probably won't be included in anyone's campaign literature.

Drug testing may not minimize governmental expenditures on welfare, but it does have some value in the private sector. When Air Products began drug testing in the mid-80s, the stated rationale was to improve safety. We must prevent a drug-addled driver from crashing a trailer full of liquid hydrogen into a Pre-School. It would be worse than the Hindenburg Disaster. We can't have a plant operator sleeping off a heroin fix while the scrub tower runs dry and the resultant hydrogen chloride cloud wafts over a nearby Nursing Home. It would be worse than Obamacare's Death Panel for Granny. We must have a Drug Testing Program. Of course, it will be limited to those in "safety-sensitive positions."

As a pencil-pushing engineer, I was flattered when I was marched off (with no advance notice) for my first drug test. "Wow, the company thinks that I have to power to cause an industrial disaster. I must be important." Then I noticed that the line at the Health Unit included a girl from the steno pool and even the guy whose sole job seemed to be using a feather duster on the potted plants. If I miscalculated the required ventilation rate for a toxic gas storage facility, it could be a big problem, so I guess I had a "safety-sensitive position", but a few misspellings on a specification or dust on the ficus in the corner were not going to pack Emergency Rooms near our facilities.

It turned out that everyone was in a "safety-sensitive position" and the true value of Drug Testing came out when it became the basis for the company's defense against lawsuits for unlawful termination. "Your honor, the plaintiff may claim that he was released from his position as Senior Ficus Duster so I could hire my nephew in his place, but it is a safety-sensitive position and his drug test indicates that he smoked marijuana three months ago."

To minimize the welfare rolls and save that drug testing compensation, all the government has to do is hire the unemployed temporarily, designate their positions as "safety-sensitive", and fire them. Mitt Romney is right. Government can learn a lot from the private sector.

Half-Time in America

2012-02-06T07:46:00.001-08:00

With all the election year talk of America's inevitable decline (if you support my opponent), it was good to take a break, sit back, and enjoy that most patriotic and uplifting of all spectacles, the Super Bowl. Alas, the Super Bowl was held in a domed stadium so we couldn't thrill to a fly-over and a parachute drop delivery of the game ball. We did get both "America the Beautiful" and the National Anthem though and the singers actually knew all the words. This has not always been the case, so the NFL wisely chose country singers as opposed to rock stars for the job this year. The ability to read lyrics from a teleprompter has always been a requirement for country stardom.

I was feeling very Ronald Reagan "Morning in America" until the half-time show. The stadium lights dimmed and a phalanx of muscular young men dressed like extras from "Gladiator" marched onto the field bearing a Cleopatra-clad Madonna. We went from the pre-game Americana of clean-cut patriotic songs in front of giant flags on the field to a half-time reminiscent of the debauchery of the Fall of the Roman Empire. Is the labelling of Super Bowls by Roman numerals a harmless affectation or an ominous bonding of the USA to ancient Rome?

Rick Santorum, here is an issue to reinvigorate your campaign. "When I'm elected President, our new American morality will forbid reproductive rights, gay marriage, and racy Super Bowl half-time shows. I'll insist on stadium sing-alongs to patriotic songs led by Kenny G. and John Tesh."

Newt Gingrich can restore some of that South Carolina momentum. "By the end of my second term, we will not only have an American base on the moon, but I will make it safe for Americans to enjoy Super Bowl half-time with their children by dressing the performers as Sesame Street characters."

Beware, NFL. Abandon the "bread and circus" half-time extravaganza. Maintain the wholesome patriotic feel of pre-game throughout the contest or Big Brother will step in.

1966

2012-02-03T08:10:00.001-08:00

A question on yesterday's "Who Wants To Be a Millionaire?" was thought-provoking. "The $100,000 candy bar introduced in 1966 would be worth how much in today's dollars?" The contestant actually chose the correct answer - $700,000.

In other words what could be purchased for $1 in 1966 would cost, on average, $7 today. Hey, I remember 1966 like it was yesterday. I was 30 lbs lighter, had all my hair, and could sleep all night without urination breaks. 1966 was great. But was 1966 superior to 2012 from a cost of living viewpoint?

As a college kid in '66, my major purchases included:

Beer - A case of domestic, no-frills suds like Schaefer ran about $5 back then. Today you can get it for $20. It should be $35 with inflation, and today's beer cans all come with easy-open tops. Back in the day, it was 50:50 whether the pull tab would break off and lacerate your finger. I have the scars to prove it.

Seagrams 7 - A fifth of decent domestic "hard stuff" was also about $5. Today, it runs $15. Again, booze beats inflation! Of course, many of us joined the military back in '66 to take advantage of the low, low liquor prices at the PX. A fifth of Smirnoff was only $1.25, and the Army wondered why it had a problem with alcoholism.

Hamburgers - By 1966, McDonald's burgers were up to $0.25, a scandal after the $0.15 burgers we remembered from high school. A double cheeseburger is on the 2012 Dollar Menu. Burgers stomp all over inflation.

Soda - Most vending machines offered a can of Coke for a quarter back in the day. Today, we're talking $1.25, still a relative bargain inflation-wise.

It is better to be a college kid today than back in '66 from a food and booze perspective. Alas, other costs exceed inflation big-time.

Movie admission - The latest James Bond flick with Sean Connery cost us between $0,25 and $0,50. Daniel Craig as 007 requires $9. Movie admission is 20X from 1966 and Ursula Andress was much hotter than whoever played opposite Daniel Craig anyway.

College Costs - The '65 - '66 school year at Lafayette cost me about $3,000 complete with tuition, fees, room & board. Today, the whole package runs a cool $50 K. Talk about inflation.

Maybe it is better to be a college kid today, but it really costs to be a parent.

Too Easy

2012-02-02T05:46:00.001-08:00

VNews Item: Facebook employees at their California headquarters have the following amenities:

Micro-kitchens stocked with Red Bull, chips, and snacks. None of that non-caffeinated stuff for these pioneers of e-business.

Vending machines with free soda or computer accessories. "Damn, I pressed the wrong button and got a USB cable. How can I drink that?"

Storefronts including a bike repair shop and a dry cleaners. "Whoops, I crashed my bike on the way to work and ruined by corporate casual outfit. Not to worry. I'll just hang out in my cubicle dressed in my underwear while my bike is fixed and my clothes are cleaned."

A full-service bar. "Tired of being called a computer nerd and getting beat up by rednecks at regular bars? Come to work at Facebook. Bad haircuts, lousy wardrobes, and questionable personal hygiene are all you see at our on-campus bar."

Two gourmet cafes plus roaming food carts. Facebook offers gourmet dinners along with drinks, repair shops, and cleaners. Why even go home from work?

Not to sound like a crotchety old guy, but kids today have it too easy. The Facebook Generation had Pizza Day and soda machines at their high school cafeterias. We Children of the 60s had lunches concocted from government surplus meat and cheese and drank milk. Like it or lump it. Off to college, the Children of the '00s ate at the Dining Commons featuring hot or cold buffets, a Salad Bar, pizza or cereal around the clock, a dessert bar, and even beer at the more progressive schools. We had Beef-a-Roni, jello with entrained fruit cocktail, milk, or Kool-Aid. Not in the mood for Beef-a-Roni? Too bad. The Snack Bar doesn't open until 8 PM. Now the Facebook Generation goes off to work and gets all this good stuff listed above? When I started at Air Products back in 1972, its cafeteria seated 200 (Campus population was about 1,500), but it was never crowded because it served the same crap we so fondly remembered from high school. The classic was "Porcupine Balls", essentially meat balls with embedded rice that led to no end of sophomoric humor.

No question, the Facebook Generation has it too easy.

Prop Bets

2012-02-01T08:42:00.001-08:00

Sports Radio provides what we need to know about the Super Bowl.

Patriots Tight End (Isn't that a great term, tight end? It's invariably preceded by the adjective "big" as in "Manning completed that pass to his big tight end". So few of us manage to have an end that is both big and tight with the possible exception of Jennifer Lopez.) Rob Gronkowski was not wearing a walking boot for his high ankle sprain at practice yesterday. Patriots Tackle Matt Light is suffering from stomach flu. And, oh by the way, in less important news, Mitt Romney won the Florida Primary.

Sports Radio also provides us with some of the "proposition bets" for the Super Bowl. After all, not everyone is a football fan, but it is un-American not to watch The Big Game even if all you care about are the commercials, the anthem, and the half-time show. It is also un-American not to bet on something related to the Super Bowl. Las Vegas is offering the following:

The over / under on Kelly Clarkson's rendition of the National Anthem is 1 minute 34 seconds. Whitney Houston warbled for nearly 3 minutes back in 1991. That's a record that may never be topped, but the smart money is taking the over.

Odds are 2:1 that Kelly will forget a word in the Anthem like Christina Aguilera did last year. This is a classic sucker bet. No American under the age of 50 knows all the words to the Anthem. Kelly will probably botch it, but no one will be the wiser.

Odds are 1:4 that Madonna will be blonde for the Halftime Show. There are also odds on pink or black hair color for Ms Ciconne. The smart money is on blonde. Katy Perry seems to change hair color hourly of late, but those of Madonna's generation like Hillary Clinton and Calista Gingrich tend to stick with the blonde.

There are even odds that Madonna will sport fishnet stockings at some point during her performance. This is a judgement call. Are those fishnets on the 53 year old Material Girl or spider veins?

Alas, there are no odds that the NFL will run out of over-the-hill performers for its Super Bowl Halftime Show. Next year's Halftime Extravaganza will star Lawrence Welk and his Champagne Music Makers!

The Devil's Device

2012-01-31T07:36:00.001-08:00

With the end of January comes the end of our New Year's Resolutions. The good intention to work off all those holiday goodies in the gym is overcome by mid-winter ennui. "I'll go to the gym when the weather is nicer. Right now, I'll tackle that bowl of chips and watch a little TV."

I was doing precisely that last night feeling guilty as reports of The Obesity Epidemic ran on the news. If only there was a quick and easy way to exercise while keeping up with my favorite telecasts. As I switched channels between a college basketball game, "House", "Monday Night RAW", and "Family Guy", it came to me. Eliminate the remote control.

Back in the day, changing channels required getting up, walking to the TV, bending down, twisting the tuner and walking back to the sofa. Those actions have to be a calorie-burner on par with a minute or two on the StairMaster. I had a 32-inch waist, low blood pressure, and more hair back then, so it must have worked. Well, maybe not the hair part.

The remote control is the Devil's Device. It has put more fat around our waists than Twinkies and Frosted Flakes. Ominously, modern TVs with remote control are no longer manufactured in the good old USA. This is clearly a plot by Sony (Japan) and LG (Korea) to make us fat and docile before they take over the world. They could not have done it when we kept fit with remote-less American-manufactured TV sets.

Abandon your remote controls. Do it for your health. Better yet, do it for America.

Eat or Be Eaten

2012-01-27T06:58:00.000-08:00

Even our feathered friends want a shot at the public notoriety that comes with being a part of the Super Bowl.

The National Chicken Council (Imagine White Leghorns in business attire gathered around a large conference table) submitted a press release this week. It crowed that Americans will consume one hundred million pounds of chicken products on Super Bowl Sunday which "if laid end-to-end would circle the Earth more than twice." Saturn has its rings of interstellar dust. Finally, Earth has a ring or two of poultry products and ours goes well with honey mustard dipping sauce..

As a patriotic American, I will, of course, consume my allotted share of chicken products on Super Bowl Sunday. I have a few questions for the National Chicken Council, however. While I chow down on a dozen wings, what happens to the rest of the chicken? Does my gluttony result in six limb-less and traumatized chickens? Are there prosthetic chicken wings for those poor, wounded birds?

It's been a long time since high school Biology and we never really studied chicken anatomy, but where on the bird are the McNuggets? For that matter, where are the Chicken Fingers? Chicken Fingers implies Chicken Hands. Is Foghorn Leghorn developing opposable thumbs? Should we worry that chickens are catching up to us evolution-wise? If birds are truly descended from dinosaurs, can this be saurian revenge after all these millenia? At some future Chicken - Dinosaur Super Bowl Sunday, will they be consuming one hundred million pounds of Human McNuggets?

I will chow down on old Foghorn while I have the chance.

Recycling Day

2012-01-26T11:11:00.001-08:00

Walking the dog on Recycling Day is a great way to get to know your neighbors. The dog must "mark his territory" on these strange green containers that were not here yesterday and therefore pose a threat which must be neutralized. While Fido is doing his business, you can't help but notice the container contents. "Must be hard times at the Johnsons. Harry is drinking Pabst instead of Heineken." "Those wine and liquor bottles explain all the noise from the Smiths last Saturday." "Based on the number of pseudoephedrine containers there, the Browns have the worst cases of sinus congestion or that peculiar chemical smell from their house may be of interest to the DEA."

Far and away, the largest component of recyclables are water bottles. One fell out of an overflowing bin and I retrieved it. The label read "Smaller cap. Less plastic. This is part of our on-going effort to reduce our impact on the environment." Of course, drinking filtered tap water would eliminate the entire bottle, save tons of trash, and really help the environment.

Then, in small print, "Cap is a small part and poses a choking hazard particularly for children." So, we have made the cap smaller to protect the environment and in so doing made it a hazard to our children. We care more for the environment than for our children!

Rather than focusing on Mitt's tax return or Newt's marital follies, here is an issue that the Republicans can run on. Clearly, those Euro-socialists in the Obama Administration placed onerous regulations on the job-creating bottled water industry forcing it to reduce its cap size. What's the end result? Kids are choking to death! Not that those pro-abortion Democrats care anyway. All they want is pristine wilderness without job-creating oil pipelines running through it to spoil the view.

One can learn a lot from Recycling Containers.

Marketing Genius

2012-01-25T08:00:00.001-08:00

Marketing is the art of convincing people to buy something they don't necessarily need at a time they don't necessarily want it. I heard a master stroke of marketing on Sports Radio while walking the dog this morning.

"Buy her that engagement ring now and we'll give you a free big screen TV just in time for "The Big Game". (We can't say Super Bowl or we'll have to pay a rights fee.) Complete your purchase of any diamond ring, $2,995 or more in value, this week and we'll guarantee delivery and set up of that big screen TV in plenty of time for all the action."

The jewelry business is nothing if not seasonal. The diamond ring counter is stacked three deep with customers before Christmas and Valentine's Day. In late January, jewelry clerks catch up on their e-mail and play a lot of Angry Birds. Diamonds can be discounted down to zero, but guys wrapped up in the NFL Playoffs won't notice. Their potential fiancees stew in anger (He got me a Cuisinart for Christmas. He calls that a romantic gift?. I'm cutting him off. Not that it matters with those NFL playoff games going on until all hours while he and his idiot buddies drink themselves into oblivion.)

No one is happy. Jewelers have no business. Potential fiancees are frustrated. Guys (when they sober up) wonder why there are sheets and pillows on the couch.

Enter the marketing genius of the free TV with a diamond ring. Jewelers have a third rush season. Girls get that ring before their friends do on Valentine's Day. Guys move back to the bedroom and sheepishly ask, "Why go to your Bridesmaid's house to plan that Bachelorette Party on Super Bowl Night? I'll just have a few of the boys over to catch the game on my new TV."

Everyone is happy.

Underlyig Lesson

2012-01-23T08:27:00.000-08:00

Everyone has an axe to grind regarding the Penn State situation. With Joe Paterno's death yesterday, the voices are louder and more insistent. "Now that truth can come out!" "Joe died of a broken heart!" "Joe failed in his moral obligation!" "Joe transformed Penn State from a cow college to a respected research university!"

Whatever "the truth" might be, there is an underlying lesson in all of this. Your life, your sense of self-worth, should never be tied to an institution. Joe devoted sixty plus years of his life to Penn State. When things got bad (regardless of whose fault it was), he was dismissed with a phone call.

I devoted thirty years of my life to my employer. I never took all my vacation. I came to work the morning after flying in from a job site at midnight the night before. I worked seven days a week up to eighteen hours a day during construction and start-ups. I never took "comp time". Five days after receiving my 30 year pin, I was "downsized". My boss probably would have preferred to dismiss me with a phone call, but I was sitting in my cubicle at the time wondering why my phone was disconnected.

When times get tough, no matter how much you love the institution, it will not love you back. No matter how many sacrifices you made for it, it will cut you loose if that means its own preservation. As Michael Corleone said in "The Godfather", "It's not personal. It's business."

We all want that Retirement Dinner with the glowing tributes and the gold watch. So few of us actually get it. If anyone in the history of Penn State deserved to be at the head table for that emotional send-off, it was Joe Paterno. But what we deserve from an institution and what we get are often two very different things.

Calling Pod People

2012-01-20T08:13:00.001-08:00

We 99%ers seeking inexpensive lodging when we travel have a new and exciting option. A Hong Kong company offers stackable sleeping pods ("It's like Legos!"). Each pod is slightly larger than a twin bed and, this being the 21st century, is Wi-Fi enabled with a computer table, bed, and air-conditioning. A photo accompanying the article describing the pods shows them stacked four across and two high. The article notes that "Some potential customers expressed doubts about the practicality of the coffin-like pods for long-term residence."

Hey, coffins work for vampires' long-term residence and what is more popular nowadays than The Twilight Saga. "Bella, ignore the advances of that muscular werewolf guy. He will make you sleep in a musty, damp den. Join my vampire brethren in an air-conditioned pod. We have Wi-Fi."

My guess is that those balky "potential customers" experienced the joys of Army Basic Training in a WW II vintage barracks. We Basic Trainees slept in bunk beds about three feet apart. Each barracks floor had 60 bunks crammed inside. Walking down the barracks floor after light out to the cacophony of snoring and emission of body gas from 60 individuals was memorable. Enclosing individuals in "pods" will help, of course, but will the "pods" solve the noise and smell problems entirely?

Even if they do, access to the top tier of pods must be via external ladders. Imagine being awakened by some poor top-tier, irritable bladder syndrome afflicted soul clambering up and down a ladder outside your pod repeatedly during the night.

Maybe stackable sleeping pods will be successful, but I'll pay extra for a conventional hotel room.

One-Upmanship

2012-01-19T08:09:00.000-08:00

Like most Americans, I studiously avoid the Republican Candidates' Debates. "I'll take your wall along the border and raise you to a double wall!" "I'll take your double wall and electrify it plus I'll add an alligator-filled moat!" "Oh yeah, I'll make high school students clean up the school lavatories to teach them the value of work!" "That's nothing, I'll make them do it on their knees with toothbrushes!" I got my fill of one-upmanship on the schoolyards of my youth.

Sometimes though, juvenile one-upmanship goes beyond mildly amusing to dangerous. Rick Perry stated in Monday's debate that the US should eliminate all aid to long-time ally Turkey and kick it out of NATO because it is ruled by Islamic terrorists. Top that for being tough against Islamofascism, Mitt, Newt, Rick S., or Ron.

The Turkish government immediately condemned Perry's allegations as "unfounded and inappropriate". The US State Department responded, "We absolutely and fundamentally disagree with (Perry's) assessment." Well, for the time being, anyway . If Rick Perry becomes President, Turkey automatically becomes infested with Islamic terrorists because he said so and State Department folks don't want to lose their jobs. How many lost their jobs by disagreeing whether Saddam had Weapons of Mass Destruction because George W. said so?

Alas, it is human nature to live up to other's opinion of you. "You say I'm an obnoxious bully? I'll act like one." The Turkish government might reply, "You say I'm ruled by Islamic terrorists? I'll throw out NATO missle bases keeping an eye on Russia. I'll open my border with Iraq so arms can flow in. Gee, I border Syria, too. Maybe, I'll stir up the pot there. What kind of Islamist terrorist nation would I be without threatening Israel? That always gets a rise out of you guys."

One-upmanship is best left on the schoolyards and out of international relations.

Rays Recipe

2012-01-18T07:06:00.000-08:00

Baltimore Ravens linebacker Ray Lewis is 36 years old and is still playing at a high level in his 14th year of pro football. With the average career length for a linebacker being five years, what can be Ray's secret?

Mr Lewis credits his career longevity to diet. Ray hasn't eaten fast food in 13 years (Those Chicken McNuggets go straight to his thighs) and he hasn't eaten any pork products over the same period (I've never seen a fast pig or a slow Orthodox Jew / observant Muslim). If this is all there is to it, the Middle East and certain neighborhoods in New York City would be rife with superannuated bone-crushing tacklers.

The final ingredient in Ray Lewis' recipe for success is water and plenty of it. Ray drinks at least one gallon of water every day before noon. Now, a gallon of water is 168 fluid ounces (8 pounds). Since Ray doesn't gain 8 pounds every day, it must go somewhere. You don't want to stand between Ray and the nearest urinal in the morning. Water also leaves the body through perspiration. You don't want to pay Ray's laundry bill.

My Philadelphia Eagles have not had an all-Pro linebacker since Bill Bergey back in the '80s. Instead of looking to college campuses for the next Ray Lewis, why not think outside the box? Build the Philadelphia Eagles Training Center in Jerusalem offering gallons of water (Free before noon!) and a pork-free diet to all comers. It is sure to pay off better than drafting some fast food-loving, pork rind-munching yahoo from North Central Oklahoma A&M.

Oddball Eater

2012-01-17T07:45:00.000-08:00

I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore.

Burger King insulted me personally with its new commercial. Touting the chain's new french fries, the commercial shows consumers as "dippers" (gently inserting fries into ketchup), "smearers" (swiping deeply into that rich red pool), "nibblers" (taking sweet short bites) and "oddball eaters" (removing the top of a burger bun, placing fries in a cross-hatch pattern, applying ketchup, reassembling the bun, and gobbling away).

Excuse me, Burger King, but this is the very way that I've been eating burgers for years. It is by no means "oddball"! It is a method born of necessity. The original "15 cent hamburgers" of my youth were tasteless consisting of all bun and very little meat. Those "Where's the Beef?" commercials were not far from reality at the time. Consumers inserted french fries atop the meat for a bit of crunch, saltiness, and bulk.

When the Quarter-Pounder, Big Mac, and Whopper came along with more meat, lettuce, tomato, onion, and "secret sauce", we old-timers continued to add fries though they were not, strictly speaking, needed to make the burger palatable. We may be creatures of habit, but we are not "oddball eaters". That is an insult worthy of an abject apology and I will foreswear Whoppers until said apology is forthcoming.

By the way, those 15 cent burgers, 10 cent fries, and 20 cent milkshakes from fifty years ago may have been tasteless, but they sure came in handy. We would get all of $1 "meal money" for swim meets over an hour travel time away. We would stop at a McDonald's or at the late and lamented Gino's or Stop and Go after the meet and purchase thre burgers, three fries, and a shake and get change. Try doing that today.

Granny Grzywacz

2012-01-16T07:33:00.001-08:00

The lot of a substitute teacher is not a happy one. The simple act of reading the class roll is a challenge. We students in the multi-ethnic Scranton school system fifty years ago would guffaw as substitutes would stumble over our surnames. We had the consonant-rich Gryzywacz, the vowel-abundant Ciesielski, and the exotic Giglio in our midst. Try pronouncing those without coaching.

Our Christian names were seldom a challenge back in the day. Everyone was Joey, Jimmy, Billy, or Mary (fill in the blank, Ann? Elizabeth? Frances?). The Diocese of Scranton wouild not baptize a Dylan, Tyler, or Tiffany. Who ever heard of Saint Britney anyway? Our substitute teachers could always fall back on "Joey G-r-z? Oh the heck with it. Is Joey G present?"

Ethnic surnames remain here in the 21st century and substitute teachers the additional challenge of creative spelling on modern first names. Kaleigh, Caley, Cailey, and KayLee come to mind. Now there is a new trend and it may simplify substitute teachers' lives. Parents are naming their children after sports heroes.

The Upper Nazareth Clippers junior pee-wee football team was honored with a captioned photo in a recent newspaper sports section. Honorees included a Peyton (no doubt named for Colts QB Peyton Manning) and two Chases (likely honoring Phillies 2nd baseman Chase Utley). Now there are a couple of names that anyone (even a newby substitute teacher) can read and pronounce. If the Giants win this year's Super Bowl, we can count on a few Elis coming up through the ranks in ten years or so.

Why didn't this trend begin back in the 1950s (other than the whole Diocese of Scranton thing)? The Colts quarterbacks back then were Johnny Unitas and Earl Morral. The Phillies 2nd basemen of that era were Solly Hemus, Granny Hamner, and Sparky Anderson. A parent, Colts fan or not, might choose Johnny as the name for his bouncing baby boy, but one would have to be a real fan to name one's offspring Earl. Even the most avid Phillies fan would hesitate to stick his child with the name Solly, Granny, or Sparky.

Help is on the way, substitute teachers. As long as our sports heroes have easy-to-pronounce first names, those attendance rolls will be easier to read in the future. By the way, Grzywacz is pronounced "Guh-vatch".

Non-Threatening Boy

2012-01-13T06:58:00.000-08:00

In "The Simpsons", Lisa subscribes to "Non-Threatening Boy", a fanzine for tween girls. When pop culture threatens the morality of teen and tween girls, society invariably comes up with a wholesome alternative.

Elvis had those suggestive swiveling hips, that greasy pompadour, and that come-hither sneer. Bursting onto the scene just in time to give "good girls" someone to swoon over was Pat Boone.

The early Beatles were cute and cuddly and just wanted "to hold your hand". No wholesome competition was necessary at first. Then came those scraggly Rolling Stones and the Beatles went all weird with "Sgt Pepper" and that Mahareshi stuff. Riding to the rescue of morality were the Dave Clark Five, Gerry & The Pacemakers, Peter & Gordon and the clean-cut British Invasion. "I like that new British music. I prefer "Ferry Across the Mersey" to "Sympathy for the Devil", but I'm still cool."

When Tipper Gore finally figured out what those rap lyrics meant and her campaign to place an "R-rating" on music failed, it was time for the 'N Sync and New Kids on the Block to provide a white bread alternate to rap. "I don't really know enough to choose between Tupac and Biggie, but Justin Timberlake from 'N Sync is much cuter than Jordan Knight from NKOTB." Then Disney got in the act and raised wholesomeness to stratospheric heights with the Jonas Brothers.

"Non-threatening" may pay off in the short run, but it is a bad idea to get rid of your "bad boy" records at the next garage sale. Elvis (especially young, rebellious Elvis) is still popular today while no one can remember any of Pat Boone's Greatest Hits. Beatles and Rolling Stones CDs continue to sell while Dave Clark Five stuff sits in the Bargain Bin. Music historians will be writing about Tupac twenty years from now when NKOTB is playing before sparse crowds at senior citizens centers.

Thus has it ever been. If we are to believe "Amadeus", Salieri was the toast of 18th century Vienna, but it is Mozart who is still beloved 200 years later.

Bad boy music rules.

Commissioner Butch

2012-01-12T08:12:00.001-08:00

News Item - Baseball Commissioner Bud Selig will be offered a two year contract extension. Selig, age 77, had previously planned to retire in 2012. He currently earns more than $22 million per year and has use of a private jet.

Let's analyze this shocking news in detail:

1. A 77 year old man is still known as "Bud". I stopped going by "Skip" in grade school because I was getting mocked on the playground and beaten up. Mr Selig's given name is Alan which is not so horrible. If his parents had stuck him with Clarence or Aloysius, I could see it, but nowadays "Bud" is reserved for pet Golden Retrievers or beer, not 77 year old men.

2. Bud's salary is about the same as that of Alex Rodriguez and Albert Pujols. A-Rod has a shot at the all-time home run record. Albert has more homers and RBIs than anyone over the past ten years. Still, their salaries are considered scandalous. "If A-Rod has 500 at-bats this year, he will be paid $40,000 every time he comes to the plate. If Albert hits 40 home runs this year, the Angels will be paying him $500,000 per round-tripper. The world is coming to an end!" On the other hand, Alex and Albert possess skills that the rest of us can only dream about and are being paid what the market will bear. About all that Bud Selig has to do is get up in the morning and have a bad haircut. I could handle that even at age 77.

3. Several baseball superstars have contract clauses ensuring that they get a personal hotel suite on road trips. Again, this is considered scandalous. Wait until they hear about Selig's private jet. "OK, Phillies, I'll sign a contract with you if you give me not only a personal suite on the road, but throw in a private jet. Hey, the Commissioner gets one. And, by the way, the team picks up the tab for whatever I take from the minibar."

Soon, American kids will take to the sandlots dreaming of developing into major league baseball players. Fame, fortune, and personal hotel suites await the fortunate few. Smarter American kids will take sports management courses and work on their schmoozing skills dreaming of being the next baseball commissioner. There is not so much fame, but plenty of fortune not to mention hotel suites and that private jet.

The only down side is having to go by an accessible nickname. "Bud" is already taken, so I'd recommend "Butch".

Sarah 2.0

2012-01-11T07:21:00.000-08:00

Mitt Romney won the New Hampshire Primary yesterday. Once again, it appears that Tea Partiers and other "real" Republicans will be forced to hold their collective noses and vote more against a Democratic presidential candidate than for a Republican who shares their values. Sure, Romney in 2012 or McCain in 2008 were better than a certain Kenyan-born Socialist with a suspiciously Muslim-sounding name, but what the GOP needs is a vice presidential candidate who can get their juices flowing.

Someone like Sarah Palin, for example. When she burst onto the scene in 2008, she was the Tea Party's Dream. Pro-life? She had that Downs Syndrome baby. Pro-military? Her son was shipping off to Iraq with the Alaska National Guard. Pro-gun? Merely a Lifetime NRA member with several notches on her rifle barrel for shooting moose. Big hair? Got it. As if any real Republican woman doesn't have big hair. The Imagineers at Disney could not have created a more perfect candidate. The GOP's conservative base was re-energized. The McCain - Palin ticket almost won.

Is there a Sarah 2.0 out there to team with Romney and put the GOP back in the White House in 2012? Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the next Vice President of the United States of America - Tim Tebow!

Only the wholesome, handsome Denver Bronco quarterback can bring in the Religious Right vote plus the NFL Dad vote plus the "I don't know anything about politics. I just vote for the cuter guy." vote. That surely will swing the election to Romney - Tebow.

Pro-life? Tim espouses abstinence until marriage. Pro-military? Tebow is a regular on the USO Athlete Tour circuit. Pro-religion? The guy kneels and prays after big plays. Big hair? Romney has that perfect "helmet head" coiffure, but Tim has an actual helmet on his head.

The Republicans pulled Sarah Palin from political obscurity and nearly stole the 2008 election. Can they spring Sarah 2.0, Tim Tebow on us in 2012 and regain the White House?

Nostradamus McCartney

2012-01-10T07:36:00.000-08:00

I had two thoughts upon first hearing The Beatles recording of "When I'm 64":

1. What a totally Paul song. John must be throwing up in his mouth that this trite piece of trash is listed as "Lennon - McCartney".

2. That's the extent of excitement at age 64? A Valentine? A bottle of wine? A cottage on the Isle of Wight (if it's not too drear and only if we scrimp and save)? I'm 19 years old now with my whole life ahead of me. By the time I'm 64, I'll be as rich as Hugh Hefner and as daring as James Bond.

I turned 64 yesterday. It turns out that Paul McCartney was a lot more accurate in his prediction of life as a senior citizen than I was 47 years ago. "When I get older losing my hair many years from now." Yup, Paul nailed that one. What Paul missed was that the hair that no longer grows on my sexagenarian scalp now sprouts wildly from my ears and nostrils. "When I get older, ha-hair will grow. In unlikely places" may be true but doesn't fit the meter of the song.

"If I'd been out 'til quarter to three, would you lock the door?" In 1967, I foolishly thought that Paul meant 2:45 AM. That is, after all, the shank of the evening for a 19 year old. The only "quarter to three" that we 64 year olds are likely to see is the one in the afternoon just before our nap time. Of course, we lock the door before our post-lunch snooze. Paul is two for two in his predictions.

"Doing the garden. Digging the weeds. Who could ask for more?" Seriously, Mr McCartney? In 1967, the "more" I would ask for was more booze, more music, and more speed from the family's decrepit car that I had to beg to drive. In 2012, a quiet morning puttering around the yard actually does satisfy. Nostradamus McCartney did it again.

Out Of It Old Guy

2012-01-06T07:02:00.001-08:00

I never thought that I would become the uncool old guy who failed to keep up with popular music. "Bah, this modern stuff sounds like two angry cats fighting in a bag. Give me Lawrence Welk any day."

Until recently, I may not have appreciated their music, but I at least had heard of the chart-topping musicians like Justin Bieber, Katie Perry, and The Black-Eyed Peas. I have now descended into full-blown Out Of It Old Guy Mode.

Rolling Stone magazine is staging its first Super Bowl Party. The Feb. 4 concert will be staged in a converted warehouse in Indianapolis, a mere two blocks from the site of the Big Game. It will feature "four of America's hottest acts":

LMFAO, possessing the #1 and #9 songs on the Billboard Top 100
Gym Class Heroes with two #1 hits and another moving rapidly up the charts
Cobra Starship whose "You Make Me Feel" is #31 on the Top 100, and
Lupe Fiasco nominated for three Grammy Awards this year

What do all these groups have in common besides a big payday in February? I never heard of them. But that's OK because I'm an Out Of It Old Guy. What else do they have in common? It will cost $1,000 per ticket to catch them at the Rolling Stone Super Bowl Bash. Now there are probably tons of Out Of It Old Guys who have the will and the means to cough up $1,000 to see, for example, the Rolling Stones. Can there be thousands of LMFAO fans who have $1,000 to spend to catch a 45 minute set of their heroes playing in a converted warehouse in Indianapolis?

Meanwhile we Out Of It Old Guys eagerly snap up tickets to the Super Bowl Game at $2,500 each even though no one knows which teams will play in it. Maybe we really are Out Of It. Those kids going to the Rolling Stone Bash at least know who the performers will be.

Plaigarism?

2012-01-05T05:46:00.001-08:00

Oscar Season is almost upon us. The Producers Guild of America released its top ten nominees for Film of the Year including three that are currently at the local cineplex - "The Descendants", "The Adventures of Tintin", and "The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo". Moviegoers pretty much rejected that list. The top-grossing films for the last week of 2011 were the latest installments of the "Mission Impossible", "Sherlock Holmes" and "Chipmunks" franchises. America was essentially saying, "Don't ask me to think, Hollywood. When I put out my $10 for a ticket, I want something mindless, preferably with characters that I've seen before."

What is a screenwriter to do? What original plots can he devise for Tom Cruise, Robert Downey, Jr. and Alvin in for the upcoming "MI:5", "Sherlock 3", and "Chipmunks 3"? Actually, the scripters for "Mission Impossible:4" solved that dilemma by taking a page from, of all things, professional wrestling.

At the climax of the movie, all appears lost. Tom Cruise is horribly beaten and has a broken leg. It looks like World War III is on the way and it is all the Impossible Mission Team's fault. Then the Bad Guy makes the mistake of mocking Tom and looking away. In that instant, Tom slowly rises despite his infirmities, draws strength from who knows where, overpowers the Bad Guy, undoes his nefarious plot, and we have a happy ending.

This is exactly the plot of a memorable Indian Chief Jay Strongbow wrestling match with Greg "The Hammer" Valentine in 1979. The Chief dominated at the start of the match just like Tom and the MI Team "cruise-d" through any initial difficulties in the movie. Then calamity struck. For the Chief, it was the dreaded "illegal object". The Hammer pulled a steel pipe from beneath the canvas and proceeded to pummel "The Pride of Pohaska, Oklahoma" with it. For Tom Cruise, the Bad Guy blows up the Kremlin, the MI team are the only logical culprits, and a manic chase ensues. Both Jay and Tom put up a brave fight, but the odds were insurmountable.

Strongbow crumpled to the canvas. As The Hammer strutted around the ring, the Warrior Spirit took hold of the Chief. He began a war whoop and a one-legged war dance. Her delivered several tomahawk chops and finished The Hammer off with his patented "bow and arrow stretch".

I've not seen "Mission Impossible 4" and I'm not sure if Tom Cruise invoked his Warrior Spirit, did a war whoop, danced one-legged, and applied his patented "cruise missile smash".

Still, the parallels between the current movie and the 1979 wrestling match are uncanny.

Had the screenwriters for "The Descendants", etc, borrowed a plot line from '70s pro wrestling, their movie might be raking in millions. Best Film Awards are nice and all, but they don't fill seats in the cineplex.

All in the Shoes

2012-01-04T07:33:00.000-08:00

There are few places where this not-so-well-preserved 63 year old can look like the youngest person in the room. Early church services, weekday movie matinees, and "mall walking" at 8 AM come to mind. All are sites for senior bonhomie - sparkling conversation about grandchildren's accomplishments and humorous recollections of medical misadventures. "Then that doctor who looked about 12 years old prescribed this medication that cost an arm and a leg so I just went home and took a physic and was good as new." (Note to Readers under 60 - Physic is senior talk for laxative.)

There is one senior gathering place, however, where bonhomie does not apply - the Medical Testing Waiting Room. We seniors jostle for position outside the door at its 6:30 AM opening time cranky from the required 12 hour fast for our blood test. "That old bag with the walker is not getting to the sign-in sheet before me. I'm starving and the senior breakfast special at the diner is only good until 8 AM."

The people with the walkers set an effective blockade at the door this morning and I ended up number 10 on the sign-in sheet. It gave me plenty of time to look over my waiting room compadres. I realized that looking like the youngest person in the room is not a matter of actually being the youngest (We have to recite our birth dates several times during the sign-in process. About half the folks waiting were younger than I am.) nor is it a matter of being the best-groomed (I dressed in the dark this morning and combed my hair with my fingers as I rushed out the door.)

It is truly all in the shoes. Eight of ten folks sported those velcro-tab, faux-leather "athletic shoes". Only I wore tie-up shoes. I may have a few more miles on the odometer. I may look like I slept in a Dumpster. But, by God, I can still tie my own shoes. I've got to be the youngest-looking of this bunch.

Cool Ducks

2012-01-03T08:22:00.001-08:00

The University of Oregon has the coolest football program ever. Its team is good, but what makes the Oregon Ducks stand out are their uniforms, their cheerleaders, their 4th quarter fan tradition, and especially their band. When your mascot is a sailor cap-clad Donald Duck look-alike, you've got to do something special to strike fear into the hearts of your opponents.

The Ducks took the field in yesterday's Rose Bowl wearing translucent reflective helmets that would not be out of place on the command deck of the Starship Enterprise. "Beam me to the end zone, Scotty." Oregon's uniforms featured a different color scheme for each game this year, but they saved the space age helmets for the Rose Bowl.

Oregon's cheerleaders are on scholarship. Other colleges go with the traditional pleated skirt, letter sweater, build a human pyramid concept of cheerleading. Oregon follows the NFL concept of scantily-clad dancers on the sidelines doing routines that would not be out of place at a "gentlemen's club". While scholarship football players are enrolled in Remedial Reading (of Defenses) 101, the scholarship cheer-babes are probably taking Music Appreciation 401 - The Proper Dance Moves to "Pour Some Sugar On Me".

Oregon's Rose Bowl opponent, Wisconsin, has a cool tradition - the 4th Quarter Jump-Around. As the teams switch ends of the field to begin the final stanza of the game, the Wisconsin band plays House of Pain's "Jump Around". Badger fans rise as one and pogo enthusiastically. Oregon did the Badgers one better in the Rose Bowl. The sound system blared the Isley Brother's "Shout" and Duck fans did the whole shimmy and raise hands in the air bit. I'm showing my age here, but I never heard of "Jump Around" and pogoing would send me to the orthopedist. On the other hand, "Shout" is the anthem of my generation and as they used to say on American Bandstand, "It's got a good beat and you can dance to it." Big picture, even middle-aged Duck fans can participate in the 4th quarter tradition.

Then there is the Oregon band. 90% of college marching bands are clad in uniforms featuring a buttoned-on bib in front (Do they serve lobster for the post-game meal?) with a plumed, inverted trashcan hat that hearkens back to Santa Ana's army storming the Alamo. Stanford and the Ivy League bands go with blazers, un-matched pants, and zany accouterments that scream "My Dad has enough money to send me here, so I can get away with this."

The Oregon band wear pullovers in the school colors and baseball caps. It's always Casual Friday here in the Land of Nike. Duck band members can walk to practice in uniform and not get mocked by the cool kids. "Hey, the War of 1812 is over. Put your uniform away, Winfield Scott."

By the way, Oregon won the Rose Bowl. Coolness triumphs!

2012 Optimism

2012-01-02T07:26:00.001-08:00

As we bid a not-so-fond farewell to 2011, we must look at our champagne glasses as being half-full, not half-empty. The New Year promises some improvement over the old. For those of us whose mailboxes and telephone answering machines are normally empty, Election Year 2012 will fill them with mailed campaign material and robo-calls. Senior citizens will be safe from social security or medicare cuts. What incumbent dares facing attack ads stating "He voted for Death Panels for Grandma!"? For those hoping to strike it rich, Kim Kardashian is single again. By the time her next groom is done counting his slice of 2012's $20 million wedding, the marriage will be annulled. It's better than the lottery.

Of course 2011 paid off for some. CEOs at Fortune 500 firms enjoyed a 36.5% jump in compensation last year. The most lucrative sector for CEO pay was health care. John Hammergren of McKesson Corp. which distributes drugs and health & beauty aids to pharmacies hauled in a cool $145 million.

This may seem like a lot of money, but what business has emjoyed more growth over the past decade than retail pharmacies? Every national chain store (Wal-Mart, Target) has a pharmacy. Every major grocery store (Wegman's, Giant) has a pharmacy. You can't throw a rock in any strip mall without hitting a CVS or a Walgreen's. Apparently, McKesson supplies all these outfits. If Mr Hammergren was smart enough to dominate this market, he deserves whatever he can get.

McKesson's days of glory may be short-lived though. Once the 2012 elections are over and Obamacare kicks in in 2013 and 2014, everyone will be on a mail-in drug plan. Corner pharmacies will go the way of corner grocery stores. "Hammer" Hammergren may want to think about investing some of that $145 million in a few well-placed campaign contributions or "scare tactic" SuperPAC commercials. "Thanks to Obamacare's mail-in pharmacy plan, Josh had to move back in to his parent's basement because he needed a permanent address to receive his prescriptions. His trash metal bandmates moved in as well. Now Clarence and Joyce get no sleep and their cat Snowball ran away. Vote 'No' on Obamacare."

2012 shopuld be interesting indeed.

Sticking It to Distracted Driving

2011-12-30T07:20:00.001-08:00

Distracted driving is a big problem. Waiting out a red light, we can't help but notice that most drivers speed by with a cell phone to their ear or just one hand on the steering wheel as they tap out a tweet. Their vehicles tend to swerve, speed up, or slow down depending on the content of that oh-so-vital conversation or e-message. "Sorry I rear-ended you, but I just had to get all the details on Edward and Bella's real-life break-up. Will this affect the final Twilight movie?"

Since there is no well-heeled lobbying group in favor of distracted driving, our legislators made it illegal to text while behind the wheel. Great idea. lawmakers! Making alcohol illegal sure worked out back in the 1920s. No one drinks anymore. As for the War on Drugs, all that cocaine and marijuana coming in from Mexico will rot away in those tunnels under the border when the word gets out that drugs are against the law.

If making distracted driving illegal doesn't work, what can we do?

There is a simple answer - Replace the automatic transmissions in our vehicles with the classic stick shift. It takes every bit of the driver's attention to engage the clutch and shift (or down shift) to the proper gear. Stall your car by starting up a hill in third gear just once and you'll concentrate more on driving than on the tweet about that rat Justin asking Tiffany to the prom. Burn out your clutch by shifting at 5000 rpm and your next cell phone call will be to AAA for a tow. Drift backward from a stop on steep grade into a burly motorcyclist and the damage to your body may exceed that to your car's body.

This is the classic win - win - win. No more distracted driving means fewer accidents and everyone's insurance rates go down. Replacing all those transmissions means jobs, jobs, jobs. Since standard transmissions increase gas mileage, oil imports are a thing of the past.

It has to work out better than Prohibition, The War on Drugs, a Kardashian marriage and other concepts doomed from the start.

Dire Need?

2011-12-29T07:38:00.001-08:00

There are a number of things for which our Lehigh Valley has a "dire need". A few more traffic lanes on Route 22 during rush hour comes to mind. Low-fat funnel cake would be a boon during Musik (with a k) fest. A Michele Bachmann-designed electrified fence with alligator-filled moat along the Delaware to keep out those Jersey and NY interlopers would not be unwelcome.

A recent addition to that list came from Jerry Deifer, co-founder of Vision Entertainment Group earlier this week. Jerry proposed a dance club for Bethlehem's Sands Casino claiming that "there is a dire need for a new, up-scale night life experience in the Lehigh Valley." Apparently, Jerry has never spent a rollicking Saturday night at Jolly Joe Timmer's Polka Grove. Now there's a night life experience.

Jerry's "Vision Bar" will feature "an enticing blend of sultry decor, dazzling special lighting effects, and amenities that rival the best." It will include "two large marble bars, a private mezzanine level overlooking the entire facility, VIP bottle service, indulgent small plates, an outdoor terrace, and four large TVs featuring state-of-the-art interactive entertainment." It will be similar to Gypsy Bar at the Borgata in Atlantic City also operated by Vision Entertainment.

I hate to burst your bubble there Jerry, but the Lehigh Valley is scarcely in "dire need" of something we already have. Our corner bars already have the sultry decor of pool tables and shuffleboards. And what is more dazzling than neon beer signs especially when they flicker due to a loose power connection? As for "amenities that rival the best", the Osama urinal cakes that dominate the Lehigh Valley bar scene remain a crowd favorite ten years running. Marble bars may go over in Atlantic City, but we can carve our initials into good old Lehigh Valley wooden bars. Mezzanine seating may be handy for overhead views of low-cut blouses on female patrons in A.C., but the effect is somewhat lessened by the preponderance of wife-beater tee-shirts on male patrons in the L.V. As for VIP bottle service, I've never had a problem getting my ice-cold Yuengling in bottles here. Beer glasses are for wimps and Jersey people. Indulgent small plates? Most Lehigh Valley bars will place your Slim Jims on a small plate if you ask. As for an outdoor terrace, the sidewalks and back alleys around our bars are far superior for getting a breath of fresh air, vomiting, or beating the crap out of a fellow patron. There is less damage from the vomiting or fight and they are easier to clean up. Lastly, I'm not sure what televised "interactive entertainment" might be in Atlantic City, but when I'm drinking I want the non-interactive Yankees or Phillies on the tube. I have enough difficulty interacting my brain with my feet as I stumble to the Mens Room.

Perhaps the Vision Bar will be a great success, but it does not fill a "dire need".

Boxing Day Explained

2011-12-27T07:49:00.000-08:00

According to my Daily Calendar, today is Boxing Day in Canada. Our Neighbors to the North have exported many things to us, some good, some not-so-good. Among the good are Canadian bacon (You can't have an Egg McMuffin without it), Dan Ackroyd (That "wild and crazy guy" and pitchman for the Bass-O-Matic), and hockey players with mullets (A never-ending source of amusement). The not-so-good include Canadian geese (Befouling our waters since 1812. That will teach us to invade them.), Celine Dion (Your heart will go on, Celine. OK, we get it), and Justin Bieber (Baby, baby, baby. Enough already).

What are we to make of Boxing Day? Is it simlar to the "Airing of Grievances" and "Feats of Strength" commemorated in the classic "Festivus" Seinfeld episode? Do Canadians settle grievances aired during Christmas dinner by donning gloves and entering a boxing ring? "You both know the rules established by the Saskatchewan Boxing Commission. No blows below the belt. Standing eight count. No grabbing the mullet. Remember we disqualified you for that last year, Grandma."

According to Wikipedia, Boxing Day is a day after Christmas when wealthy people in the UK would give a box containing gifts to their servants. "If you do a really good job cleaning up after our bacchanal on Christmas Day, Jeeves, there may a box filled with goodies for you tomorrow. Hopefully, it will be better than the re-gifted fruitcake that we got from Lady Maude and stuck you with last year."

Our Canadian friends brought socialized medicine and that hilarious custom of arbitrarily adding the letter "u" when spelling from the UK. I guess that Boxing Day is just another remembrance of the good old days when Canada was part of the Empire. Or maybe they like boxed fruitcake north of the border.

An Engineer's Christmas

2011-12-23T06:36:00.000-08:00

Having an engineer around the office at Christmas time is, in general, a good thing. Are half the lights not working on the office tree? Does your computer freeze up when you try to e-mail that hilarious video of a cat singing "Jingle Bells"? Does the office goes dark when you plug in the crock pots for the Holiday Brunch?

The engineer will come to your rescue. That nerdy guy with the bad haircut and questionable personal hygiene will make the holiday bright though you may have to suffer through his explanation of Ohm's Law and the superiority of stranded over solid copper wire. More efficient heat dissipation, you know. Just don't ask him to do any gift shopping. It is not in the engineer's DNA.

My first Christmas as an engineer in Corporate America proved this point. Our engineering group of eight was one of four on our floor. Each group had a secretary in those primitive times before voice mail, personal computers, and even fax machines. As Christmas approached, the secretary hit each of us up to contribute to a group gift to our boss. The day of the Department Christmas Party, we realized that we also had to come up with a gift for our secretary. The other groups had theirs neatly wrapped and labeled "Don't Open Until the Party".

In a panic, $5 (a princely sum in those days) was collected from each of us, and, as the junior guy, I was dispatched to make the purchase. The other groups had someone's wife do the buying, but we had no time. Now, engineers are nothing if not practical. Making work more efficient is what we do. If it was up to lawyers and accountants, office workers would still be using carbon paper and "White-Out". I bought Barbara a desk set with a leather-bound blotter and matching heavy-duty stapler and tape dispenser. Those company-issued desk supplies were crap. She would be the envy of her peers. I just knew it.

After lunch came the grand unveiling of the gifts. The bosses went first and unwrapped their gifts of golf-related items and expensive booze. The other secretaries then oohed and ahhed over their gifts of jewelry and costly perfumes. Our Barbara was somewhat underwhelmed with her desk set. In fact, she made a quick trip to the Ladies Room at that point accompanied by the other secretaries casting nasty glances at The Thoughtless Eight.

It may be a coincidence, but in subsequent years, Christmas gifting was changed to a Secret Santa basis. It defies the Laws of Probability, but we eight always were assigned each other while the secretaries were gifted by the boss or another secretary. In a way, this worked out great. We engineers were thrilled with our oh-so-practical miniature tool sets and drafting supplies. The secretaries also got what they wanted.

Speaking of coincidences, for a month or so after that Christmas, The Thoughtless Eight found those ubiquitous "While You Were Out" phone message slips written in shorthand. When we questioned Barbara about the contents of the message, she would reply, "You're the practical ones. You figure it out."

Still a Wimp

2011-12-21T07:50:00.001-08:00

Everything old is new again - even shaving with a blade. The fastest-growing brand in Proctor & Gamble's Beauty and Grooming Division is Gillette's Art of Shaving, a boutique product line that includes $45 shaving soaps and $150 badger hair brushes (So expensive because plucking hair from a live badger is not for the faint of heart). A P&G spokesman stated, "For a lot of college-age men, there is an element of being a bad ass for shaving with a blade."

Those of us who served in the Army will pass up this opportunity to be a bad ass. We cringe at the memory of shaving with a nicked-up blade that had bounced around our backpack all day either with cold water or no water at all and no soap. The resultant open wounds on our faces then were coated with camo paint which stung or were exposed to tear gas which caused real pain. Then we got to do it all over again the next day. It was an enormous relief to return to the barracks where there was hot water and/or electricity for our electric shavers. It also allowed the scabs extending from our sideburns to our neckline to heal.

Today's college guys may strive for bad ass status with $45 shaving soap and $150 badger hair brushes. I will remain a wimp and shave as seldom as possible and in the most comfortable way.

Do What You're Good At

2011-12-20T08:32:00.001-08:00

The full-page, four-color ad in this week's New Yorker is headlined, "Security and Jobs For Decades to Come". Could it be touting Michele Bachmann's plan to build a double electrical fence with alligator-filled moat along our borders? America is made safe from all those anchor baby moms-to-be plus we get plenty of work for gator wranglers.

Actually, the ad touts the F-35 "Lightning II". It "is more than an innovative leading edge fighter. More than an aircraft with unprecedented capabilities that will help America and its allies defend freedom. It is an advanced technology program that is a cornerstone of our nation's industrial base. Creating direct and indirect jobs for 127,000 Americans...The F-35 Lightning II program. Securing freedom, Securing jobs. Securing America's future."

Macroeconomics tells us that free trade is the optimal condition for everyone. Why spend millions to grow bananas in Alaska when Alaskans can import tropical fruit more cheaply from Honduras? Why spend millions to develop fisheries in Honduras when they can import Alaskan salmon at half the cost? Nations should stick to what they are good at and trade for the rest.

America is no longer good at making automobiles, clothing, or Barbie dolls. Our highways are clogged with Hondas. Try finding "Made in the USA" tank tops or Wii games. But, by God, we lead the world in weapons manufacturing. You don't see nuclear submarines coming out of sweatshops in Sri Lanka.

Some might say that spending billions to develop an aircraft "with unprecedented capabilities" is not the most cost-effective way to protect our shores against a terrorist with a bomb in his shoe. Some might say that those billions might be better spent developing energy-saving technology and upgrading our infrastructure. We would not only get those 127,000 good-paying American jobs, but we would have a reduced dependence on foreign oil and bridges that don't fall down.

Fortunately, our far-sighted Congressmen saw through that fallacy and approved the 2012 Defense Budget which includes the F-35 program. They were not influenced by the New Yorker ad or by "campaign contributions" from Lockheed Martin and Northrop Grumman, but by macroeconomic theory. Do what you're good at, America.

Chase and Me

2011-12-19T06:15:00.001-08:00

Saturday was Chase Utley's 33rd birthday. This makes me sad in two ways.

The logical left side of my brain recognizes that the Phillies second baseman is clearly on the down-side of his career. 33 is a prime, productive age for accountants, auto mechanics, or astronauts (and those are only the "a" careers), but, for major league ballplayers, fast balls are faster and that 90 foot distance between the bases is longer when one is well into one's fourth decade of life. Chase missed the first month of last season with a leg injury. The 30+ year old body doesn't heal as quickly.

Let's face it. The day is coming when #26 will not be batting third for the Phillies. The logical left side of my brain doesn't like this, but remembers that the Phillies survived when age eroded the skills of Mike Schmidt and Steve Carlton. It took 28 years for the Utley-led Phillies to win another World Series after the Schmidt / Carlton triumph in 1980, but somewhere in California or the Dominican Republic, the nucleus of the 2036 World Champion Phillies is being born right now. Of course, the next wives of Donald Trump and Newt Gingrich are being born in 2011 as well.

The emotional right side of my brain takes little solace in this. For one thing, I will be 88 in 2036 and it might be difficult to get a good spot along the Victory Parade route for my wheelchair. More to the point, I am now less than twice the age of Chase Utley. We never think that we are getting older. That wrinkled visage that greets us in the bathroom mirror each morning isn't really us. But when we see a graying, hobbling Chase Utley we recognize our own mortality.

Musicians can age ungracefully, but not ballplayers. Mick Jagger, Keith Richard, and Billy Joel are roughly my age. They can look like a train wreck and that's OK. The sex, drugs, and rock & roll got them, but I'm still good. It's different with ballplayers. As long as Chase Utley can sprint around the bases after a home run (and, by the way, that sort of hustle and lack of grandstanding is what makes him my all-time favorite player), I feel young myself.

Use that Grecian Formula and pile on the wrinkle cream, Chase. You're doing it not only for yourself, but for a certain fan who feels good as long as you look good.

Help Us ALF

2011-12-16T07:07:00.000-08:00

The late 80s TV series ALF was one of my favorites. The zany Alien Life Form from the planet Melmac had many idiosyncrasies - eating cats and, best of all, an affinity for "genuine imitation Naugahyde". Since Naugahyde is itself imitation leather, imitation Naugahyde might very well be real leather to ALF. Oh, those confusing double negatives.

Equally confusing is a toy store advertising circular in yesterday's mail. It recommended the Perfect Christmas Gifts - an authentic replica of Harry Potter's wand for the little boys on your list and genuine faux pearls for that little princess who is so hard to buy for. Since a replica is by definition non-authentic, an authentic replica of a fictional object like Harry's wand could be the very device (phoenix feather included) to keep Voldemort at bay. Similarly, faux pearls come from some sweatshop in China, but genuine faux pearls are either guaranteed to be fake or come from good old American oysters.

ALF, help us resolve these confusing double negatives.

Should the authentic replica wand and the genuine faux pearls prove to be of the same quality as Skee Ball prizes at Chuck E Cheese, Christmas can still be salvaged. The circular also lists the "M-forcer Marshmallow Launcher" (marshmallows not included). What kid wouldn't want to pepper his kitchen walls or a sibling with soft white sugary treats? How long would it take for the more scientifically-minded tyke to figure out that the marshmallow projectiles stick a lot better if they are heated to a semi-gooey mass?

Maybe the authentic replica wand and the genuine faux pearls really are the Perfect Christmas Gifts.

Eclipsing the Sun Belt

2011-12-13T07:48:00.001-08:00

The 2010 Census shows once again that America's population is moving south to the Sun Belt. Arizona, Texas, and Florida are gaining population and congressional seats while Pennsylvania, Ohio, and New York are losing people and political pull.

Logical reasons include the decline of manufacturing in the Rust Belt, lower taxes particularly for retirees in Florida and Texas, and the booming Hispanic population down there. I credit somewhat less logical reasons:

Ubiquitous air conditioning. Immigrants from the Great White North can go from their climate-controlled houses to their air-conditioned cars to 70° shopping malls and never break a sweat in 90° temperatures with 95% humidity. It was not always so. In my Army days down South and in my work days on Florida, Arizona, and Texas projects, I would begin sweating when the sun came up and by the time it set, I would look like Michael Phelps after a workout in the pool. Also, those stories about Louisiana mosquitoes the size of small birds are not far off the mark. What is really distressing is getting mosquito bites in January. Fortunately, the modern, hermetically sealed, air-conditioned Sun Belt lifestyle eliminates the carnivorous insect problem as well.

Readily available cold beer. Gas station convenience stores down South sell cold beer for $1 per can and place the suds in individual brown paper bag so you can blithely drive by state troopers while re-hydrating. Try doing that while wrestling with the six pack minimum purchase in Pennsylvania, plus you have to provide your own single can sized bags.

Cowboy hats. If you wear a cowboy hat in the Sun Belt (especially one of those cool severely-creased leather ones), people accept you as a country music fan. "That man looks just like Tim McGraw." If you wear a Stetson north of the Mason-Dixon line, people think that you never outgrew your childhood Hopalong Cassidy fixation. "That man has issues. Better avoid him."

If the Rust Belt states wish to retain their population and political power, they should mandate compulsory air conditioning, allow drivers to freely guzzle beer, and de-stigmatize cowboy hats. The North shall rise again.

Don't Know Much About History

2011-12-12T07:00:00.000-08:00

Our boy Newt Gingrich is quite the historian. Fresh from accepting a six figure "historical consulting fee" from Freddie Mac (Don't call it lobbying!), Newt delved into his vast knowledge of Middle East culture to state that the Palestinians are an "invented people who are, in fact, Arabs". What gave it away, Newt? Was it the flowing robes and the kaffiyehs or the fact that they speak Arabic?

Newt continued. As we all know, Arabs have an "enormous desire to destroy Israel" and therefore any Israeli - Palestinian peace process is "delusional". Way to set up potential President Gingrich as a non-partisan, even-handed broker of peace in the Middle East there, Newt!

Let's compare the actual histories of Palestine and America. In the 1200s, European crusaders conquered Jerusalem and killed off nearly all its inhabitants. In the 1500s and 1600s, Europeans invaded America and killed off nearly all its native inhabitants. The Turks drove the Crusaders out and for 700 years, Arabs, Christians and Jews lived together in what all three claim as the Holy Land. Regardless of their religion or language, all three could claim that they were Palestinians. After all, they were living in Palestine. What should they call themselves, some "invented" term like Eskimos? Any resident of the Western Hemisphere whose bloodline originated elsewhere claims the "invented" classification of "American".

More to the point, Palestinian and American history tell us that varying ethnicities can live together in relative peace. Problems arise when a third party, be it crusaders, conquistadores, or GOP candidates stir the pot of native rivalry to their own advantage. Israeli - Palestinian peace is "delusional" only if third party powers make it so. Common Israelis and Palestinians (or whatever "invented" term Newt would have us call them) would much prefer to live in peace rather than looking over their shoulders for the next rocket attack.

Just don't accept blankets from those nice visitors from overseas until you get your smallpox vaccination, Palestinians. The Indians didn't get vaccinated and look what happened to them.

Mascot Mania

2011-12-09T07:27:00.001-08:00

The Philadelphia 76ers are seeking a new mascot. Their current costumed character, a giant rabbit named Hip-Hop, fails to instill fear in opponents or enthusiasm in fans. The Phoenix Suns have a costumed gorilla that bounces from a trampoline through a ring of fire. Now there's a mascot routine that scares (or at least distracts) the opposition and gets the crowd into the game. A break-dancing mutant Easter Bunny just isn't the same.

By the way, the Easter Bunny is responsible for a childhood trauma that I still haven't outgrown. I was placed on the lap of a department store E.B. for the requisite Easter photo when I was three or four years old. The Bunny's head was a rigid mesh-like material with painted-on features. From a distance, it looked like a giant rabbit. Up close, you could see right through the mesh to the human head inside. I was convinced that the evil E.B. had swallowed a human and I was next. I responded with screams and tears. The photo did not go well and the trauma lingers to this day. Perhaps this is why I was never a fan of Hip-Hop.

The 76ers plan to go "Philadelphia Heritage" for their new mascot. They showed some variations on Ben Franklin and the Quaker Oats Guy and requested fans to vote for their favorite. Is some clown in knee pants and a funny hat a true reflection of Philly's sports heritage? No way!

These are the fans who bombarded Santa Claus with snowballs at an Eagles game, who projectile-vomited on a little girl in the stands at a Phillies game, and whose drunken antics led to a judge, prosecutor, and court being set up during games at the Old Veteran's Stadium. The new 76ers mascot should reflect the proud tradition of Philly Fandom. We should be choosing between:

A rude, booing Elf who would hurl snowballs at the opponent's bench

A fat, drunken Lout (dressed in team colors, of course) who would chug overpriced warm beer, belch cheers, and vomit when officials make a call against the home team.

A robed Judge carrying an over-sized gavel who would pound the floor in time to cheers of "Dee-Fense". In true Philly legal tradition, fans can bribe the Judge (or "contribute to his campaign") to have him lead the cheer of their choice.

The Phillie Phanatic and the Eagles' Swoop will be easily eclipsed by the 76ers new mascot if it is one of these.

Wardrobe and Other Malfunctions

2011-12-08T05:16:00.000-08:00

The NFL announced this week that Madonna will perform at half-time of the upcoming Super Bowl. Since Janet Jackson's embarrassing "wardrobe malfunction" several years ago, Super Bowl half-time performers have included Paul McCartney, the Rolling Stones, Prince, Tom Petty, Bruce Springsteen, The Who, and The Black-Eyed Peas. What do all these acts have in common? If they suffered a Janet Jackson - like "nip slip", no one would care. In fact, exposure of the aged torsos of any of the above would put most Super Bowl viewers face-down in the guacamole.

The exception to that would have been Fergie of the Peas, but most listeners were cringing with eyes shut due to her vocals and would have missed a "wardrobe malfunction" anyway.

Year after year, the Super Bowl Half-Time Show is an over-choreographed, poorly lip-synched disaster. Still, as a 60+ year old music fan, I looked forward to seeing McCartney, the Stones, the Who and the like. I couldn't afford to see them live back in the day and there were no MTV videos then. The potential for personal embarrassment still exists though. I might come up with a reasonable answer when little Timmy asks, "Why is Janet Jackson's top falling off?", but a response to "What did you ever see in these old guys back in the '60s?" would be difficult. I'm working on my response to "Why is that old lady singing 'Papa Don't Preach' and 'Like a Virgin'?"

On, Wisconsin

2011-12-07T07:12:00.000-08:00

The great state of Wisconsin has been a source of comedy over the years. Television's "Laverne & Shirley" and "Happy Days" showed us the zany side of America's Dairyland in fiction. The Wisconsin State Legislature showed us its wacky side in fact when members denied a quorum for Governor Scott Walker's plan to limit public service employee union bargaining rights by bolting to Illinois. "Nah - Nah, you can't touch us. We're in Illinois." Very mature, legislators.

Wisconsinites may disagree of politics, but they stand four-square behind their beloved Green Bay Packers. A recent poll revealed that Packers QB Aaron Rodgers was viewed favorably by 89% of state residents. Rodgers beat out George Washington who had a mere 86% approval rating. That wig and knee pants make him look a tad gay and Wisconsin is, after all, the home of super-macho Harley-Davidson. Aaron also topped Mother Teresa at 83%. M.T. may have devoted her life to the sick and dying in India, but she had a weak arm and would never have won a Super Bowl.

Aaron Rodgers fell short of only Abraham Lincoln at 91% and Jesus Christ at 90%. Despair not, Aaron, there is hope. The Packers are undefeated so far this season. Bring a second consecutive Super Bowl title back to the Badger State and you are sure to out-poll those two. Preserving the Union and freeing the slaves is nothing compared to hoisting a Lombardi Trophy in each hand. As for that Jesus guy, he turned water into wine, but Wisconsinites prefer Miller or Pabst beer (proudly brewed in Milwaukee) to toast their gridiron triumphs.

Athletic fame is tenuous though. The New England Patriots' Tom Brady probably had similar popularity ratings in Massachusetts after winning four Super Bowls and then he lost one. Abe, JC, George, and MT surely out-poll him nowadays. All he got was a $10 million per year contract and a super-model wife. I guess that's a meager consolation prize if you lose the upcoming Big Game, Aaron.

End Fast Food Addiction

2011-12-06T07:30:00.000-08:00

Like most health-conscious Americans, I shy away from fast food. Desperate times, however, call for desperate measures. Facing a long flight during a layover at the Denver Airport and unwilling to cough up $8 for a packaged in-flight "snack", I queued up to the airport Burger King and ordered a Whopper. The savings weren't all I anticipated. The Whopper price was a whopping $4.40. Oh for the days of $0.15 hamburgers, $0.10 fries, and $0.20 milkshakes at the McDonald's of my youth. In fact, oh for the days of a $3 Whopper at a non-airport Burger King.

Still, the Whopper was a tasty and comparatively economical choice. If I had run to the local grocery store and purchased 1/4 lb of ground beef, lettuce, pickles, onions, mayo and a large bun, could I have done it for less than $4.40? Or, health-conscious person that I am could I have substituted arugula, chopped anti-oxidant vegetables, and a low-cal vinagrette for that price? Probably not. And I received that birthright of all Americans - instant gratification - a burger in my hand within minutes of ordering without the time and mess associated with preparing it myself.

We bemoan the fattening of America due to our fast food addiction. According to the Nutritional Information poster at BK, my Whopper comes in at an impressive 690 calories. Eat two of those rascals and I've made my recommended daily caloric intake. But I've only spent $6 to $9 depending on where I bought the sandwiches and there are no pans to scrub or plates to wash. Fast food may kill me, but it is cheap and convenient.

There is only one way to end America's fast food addiction and it is not Nutritional Posters or scary medical updates on the news. Force customers to prepare their own fast food and clean up after themselves. The prospect of standing over a hot grill, fishing gunk out of the deep fat fryer, and doing the dishes at Mickey D's or BK will cause us to think twice about impulsively picking up a burger on the way home. Nutritional home meals will return and we Americans will once again be svelte and healthy.

The cheap aspect of fast food is a harder nut to crack. Burger King is offering "buy one, get one for free" on Whoppers this weekend. Maybe the money I save on burgers will pay for insulin.

Training and Equipping

2011-12-05T06:58:00.001-08:00

The US Senate, "The World's Greatest Deliberative Body, Advising and Consenting Since 1789" did not have a good week. Our duly-elected Senators failed to reach a majority on extending payroll tax reductions that would either "put money in the pocket of citizens and stop these economic hard times in their tracks" according to supporters or "be a boondoggle that would increase the burgeoning deficit and place an untenable burden on our children" according to detractors. Ah well, it's an election year so let's not make any tough decisions.

One decision that was made, and by a whopping 93 - 7 majority, was passage of the 2012 Military Budget. This $662 billion bill includes $13 billion "for training and equipping Afghan security forces and $400 million for Afghan infrastructure projects." Apparently, money sent half-way around the world to a place that we're bailing out of next year doesn't count against that terrifying deficit. It's not as if $400 million couldn't be better used to upgrade our own infrastructure. US highways and bridges are in great shape.

Actually, the $13 billion "for training and equipping" is an All-American Job Creation Stimulus. The good military armament that the Afghans will get will be proudly made in the USA. As tough as it is for US consumers to find anything on their Christmas list that is not made in China, if you want Santa to come down the chimney bearing tanks, artillery, guns and ammo, you've got to buy American. We don't manufacture TV sets, video games, or clothing anymore, but we remain #1 when it comes to bombs and hand grenades.

American workers may take a bit of a hit if those payroll tax reductions expire, but our friends in the Military - Industrial Complex got a pre-Christmas gift of $13 billion. Lest we think that our Senators are heartless, they did include a big 1.6% pay increase for our brave fighting men and women in that 2012 Military Budget. It doesn't make up for the additional 2% they will cough up in increased payroll taxes, but it's not as if Beetle Bailey and Sgt Snorkel make campaign contributions like General Dynamics and Lockheed do.

The Perfect Gift

2011-12-02T07:14:00.000-08:00

Finding the perfect Christmas gift is a real challenge especially when it is a work group gift for a boss that no one particularly likes. Many a poor downtrodden secretary (or Admin Assistant in today's world) was handed $5 from everyone in the group and went insane choosing between another pen and pencil set that the boss would never use or a briefcase that he would never carry. Wasteful or not, the gift was absolutely required. Non-contributers might suffer the boss's wrath during Annual Performance Review. "You don't seem to be much of a team player, Bob. Let's add that to your Areas for Improvement."

Just in time for Christmas, this week's New Yorker carries an ad for the perfect boss's gift. It says, "Are you petite? Do you sit short? Miss all the action when you sit? Sitting Taller offers a fabulous booster in a slick handbag for adults or backpack for kids! Carry your height in a bag!"

What boss wouldn't love that? Studies prove that tall people are perceived as more commanding. When sitting tall (thanks to the booster) behind his desk, the boss can gaze imperiously over the heads of his minions. His words will sound like Moses on the mount no matter how foolish. When seated at the Executive Conference Table with his peers, his added height will add weight to his comments. "I always thought that Accounting Boss Smith was an idiot, but what he says sounds great."

So if you really want to rid yourself of a tyrannical boss, get him the Sitting Taller Booster in a Bag. He will be promoted out of your hair in no time. It's also cheaper than hiring a hit man.

It's a Natural Gas

2011-12-01T05:15:00.000-08:00

It was a small side note on the Business Page. "Royal Dutch Shell and Mitsubishi paid $17 billion to the Iraqi government for rights to natural gas deposits derived from a new oil field. The natural gas would otherwise be flared to the atmosphere as part of the drilling process." In the same newspaper, Republicans question Obama's decision to remove American troops from Iraq by the end of this year. "Let's stay until the job is finished."

Guess what, GOP? The job is finished now that Dutch and Japanese companies can safely swoop in and haul out that natural gas. After $2 trillion wasted, 4,000 lives lost and many more than that screwed up, the American taxpayer has done his job. There's a certain irony that the Dutch and Japanese are getting their natural gas from Iraq without any domestic pollution while we are getting ours by pressurizing chemicals into our groundwater. Maybe if we spent that $2 trillion on research, we could solve our energy problems without risking flames from our kitchen faucets.

Realistically, that Iraqi natural gas has to be liquefied and transported making it expensive. "Fracked" natural gas is right beneath Pennsylvania and exactly where it can be used so it is much cheaper. Better yet, we can keep it right here now that the Dutch and Japanese won't bid up its price since they have that good stuff from Iraq. What if Bush - Cheney had justified the Iraqi Incursion as "cheap energy" rather than "weapons of mass destruction"?

True Pie

2011-11-30T07:18:00.001-08:00

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.

Air Travel Technology

2011-11-29T07:55:00.001-08:00

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.

Bieber Fever Cured

2011-11-22T07:34:00.000-08:00

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.

Don't Know Much About History

2011-11-21T07:39:00.000-08:00

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.

Triumph of the Geeks

2011-11-18T07:13:00.001-08:00

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.

Workplace Ecology

2011-11-17T07:55:00.001-08:00

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.

Pulitzer, anyone?

2011-11-16T08:33:00.001-08:00

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.

Pretentious Cannibals

2011-11-15T06:47:00.000-08:00

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.

President Pat or Alex

2011-11-14T07:15:00.001-08:00

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.

Sometimes Losers Win

2011-11-11T07:39:00.000-08:00

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.

Disclaimers

2011-11-10T07:46:00.001-08:00

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.

Secret Santa

2011-11-09T06:45:00.001-08:00

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."

Brown Shoe Army Blues

2011-11-07T07:51:00.001-08:00

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.

Bang for the Buck

2011-11-04T07:58:00.001-07:00

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.

The Bladder's Revenge

2011-11-03T05:40:00.000-07:00

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.

Career Counseling

2011-11-02T07:21:00.001-07:00

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?

The (British) Empire Strikes Back

2011-11-01T06:57:00.000-07:00

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!"

The Bacon Theory

2011-10-31T07:35:00.000-07:00

As world population exceeds 7 billion and those old Malthusian concerns about food supply for that many people recur, it is reassuring to know that a Bethlehem restaurant offers the "Bender-Ender". This ten-ounce burger is topped by a fried egg and (of course) bacon and is stuffed in the middle of two grilled cheese sandwiches. This one sandwich includes more calories, protein, and fat than an average village in Bangladesh consumes in a week.

I'll have Diet Coke with mine. I must maintain my slim, girlish figure.

KFC unveiled an addition to its Famous Bowl in numerous TV ads this week. How can one improve on a bowl-ful of mashed potatoes, corn, gravy and crispy chicken bits? "We added bacon!", reply the perky KFC employees in the commercial. "Everything's better with bacon."

So true. Is it the nitrites or the fat or the cholestrol that give the Famous Bowl that extra zip? Who cares?

No to be outdone, Burger King offers the Triple Stacker. It includes three 5 oz beef patties, two slices of cheese, and three bacon strips smothered in Special Stacker Sauce. Note that the Triple Stacker does not contain any of that pesky lettuce, tomato or other "rabbit food" to interfere with its bacon-infused burger deliciousness.

In 1798, Thomas Malthus famously declared that when population growth exceeds grain supply, war, pestilence, and misery will result. Thanks to The Green Revolution, this has (fortunately) not occurred. If Malthus were alive today, he might amend his theory. "When population growth exceeds bacon supply, look out! After all, everything's better with bacon."

No Schwinns to China

2011-10-28T06:42:00.000-07:00

Pundits point to our perilous financial state and the rise of China as harbingers of the fall of America on the world stage. It's actually much simpler than that. America's fortunes began to wane when we went to "English" bicycles.

We Children of the 1950s had two choices when we graduated from tricycles to "two-wheelers" - good old American-made Schwinns with sturdy metal frames and coaster brakes or "English" bikes with flimsy frames, hand brakes, and all of three gears. It was so much easier tackling hills by gearing down with those lightweight "English" bikes. Later, bikes had up to ten gears and American kids grew ever softer. Is it a coincidence that American Schwinn-riding kids of the 30s and 40s grew up strong and won two world wars while English bike riders lost their Empire? Is it a coincidence that after "English" bikes came to America, we fought to a draw in Korea and gave up Viet Nam?

Pedaling that massive Schwinn up the hill not only developed physical endurance, it made us mentally tough. There's no easy way out. There's no low - low gear to ease that pain. Schwinn riders would never package sub-prime mortgages and scuttle the economy while hauling in huge bonuses. They would take their medicine and like it.

All is not lost, however. Our Chinese rivals appear to favor "ten speed" bikes. Much as it would help our Balance of Payments, we must never export Schwinns to China. Let them grow soft physically and mentally. America will rise again.

Rebarkably Refreshing

2011-10-27T06:36:00.000-07:00

I love my dog, but there are limits. I will feed him the finest kibble (all natural, no fillers) and provide him the proper medication (surprisingly expensive), but I will NOT give him trendy bottled water. If tap water is good enough for me, it's good enough for a canine who would just as soon drink from the toilet bowl.

Yet, there is a market for the stuff. I recently saw an internet ad stating:
"K9 Water Co., Inc. is proud to offer you Toilet Water, Puddle Water, Hose Water
and Gutter Water, the world’s first flavored, vitamin fortified bottled water specifically formulated to provide your dog with essential vitamins that contribute to overall
good health and provide the hydration your dog needs.

Our water can be enjoyed in four of the flavors dogs enjoy most: chicken, beef, liver and lamb.
Try all four tasty flavors today and your dog will rave that it is Rebarkably Refreshing!™"

Get that? ReBARKably refreshing? It's not a typo, but a trademarked phrase. Somewhere, an English teacher is wondering why she ever went into the profession.

If my drinking water contains only chlorine (and perhaps a touch of fecal colioform), my dog's water will NOT include "essential vitamins that contribute to overall good health". Which is the dominant species here anyway?

I might buy it though just to taste liver-flavored water. I imagine that chicken, beef, or lamb-flavored water would taste something like diluted soups of the same name, but liver flavor? That would be a taste treat unlike any in my experience. And this is from a guy who once ate a "Pupperoni" doggie treat by mistake (or possibly one too many beers).

My "boy" may whine that "all the other dogs in the neighborhood carry around bottled water" and that "times have changed", but I hereby play the "I'm the master. You're the pet" card. If anyone in this family gets vitamin-fortified liver-flavored water, it's me.

The Power of Advertising

2011-10-26T07:17:00.000-07:00

Chilly October mornings require a hot breakfast cereal.

Back in the day, three cereals divided the market. There was oatmeal, granular, sticky, and reminiscent of those oatmeal baths that we kids had to take when poison ivy attacked. Not my favorite. I had nightmares about drowning in that gelatinous mass. There was shredded wheat, not the glazed, bite size chunks that you see today, but cakes of the stuff. Mom would pour water or hot milk over the shredded wheat to soften it up, but it would be either gloppy like paste or still hard and scratchy when swallowed. Not a taste treat. Finally, there was Cream of Wheat, smooth, consistent, and great with cinnamon or raisins.

You would think that, of the three, Cream of Wheat would be the big seller nowadays. Yet, McDonald's features oatmeal on its breakfast menu. I blame it all on Wilfred Brimley. When a cranky old guy tells you that oatmeal is good for your heart, you believe him. "I'll have oatmeal instead of Cream of Wheat this morning, Alice. I know it tastes like crap and I'm never sure whether to chew it before I swallow, but it kept old Wilfred going all these years."

That is the power of advertising. We pass up Cream of Wheat that tastes better and is probably just as nutritious for oatmeal because an old coot with a white mustache told us so.

Stand up for your rights, America! Eat Cream of Wheat. As an old coot with a white mustache (and a goatee to boot), I volunteer for the advertising campaign.

The Seven Finger Solution

2011-10-25T07:40:00.001-07:00

They say that you should never trust a skinny chef or a mechanic with clean fingernails. To that, I would add that you should never trust a tree surgeon with all of his fingers.

I met with a tree guy to discuss some work this week and was at first appalled that he was lacking three digits on his right hand. Then I felt reassured. Here is a man of experience who has tackled the forest primeval, taken his lumps, and emerged victorious.

The Verizon Yellow Pages conducted an advertising campaign this past summer featuring the "Super Guarantee". Designated "Super Contractors" were backed with a money back promise. In the ads, the contractors wore a flowing yellow cape, not unlike that worn by Superman. In fact, at Musik (with a k) fest, Verizon handed out yellow capes mostly to kids giving Volksplatz the look of a failed "modern sculpture" by Christo and Jean Claude.

Who needs capes to designate proficiency in working with one's hands though? With just one glance, it is easy to discern masters of the mechanical arts. A top-notch carpenter always has flattened fingertips and bruised fingernails. The best electricians invariably have "stick out" hair and a wide-eyed, permanently shocked look. Master plumbers carry the detritus from pipes they have removed on their clothing. Experienced welders proudly bear slag scars. These are not deformities, but badges of honor and experience.

I know that my tree job is in good hands. Only seven fingers, but good hands nonetheless.

Coughlin's Law

2011-10-21T06:32:00.000-07:00

Searching through my tee-shirt drawer yesterday, I realized that my prized Ryan Howard Phillies shirt had settled toward the bottom of the stack. This is the same shirt that had to be literally ripped off my body for periodic laundering during the oh-so-satisfying 2011 regular season or, for that matter, the preceding five glory years. I just couldn't bear to wear it again after the disappointment of this year's playoff failure.

Coughlin's Law states, "Everything must end badly. Otherwise, it would never end." So it is with the recent success of my beloved Phillies. Ryan Howard ruptured his achilles tendon. Cole Hamels is having surgery on his pitching elbow. Rumor has it that Jimmy Rollins, Ryan Madsen, and Raul Ibanez will depart as free agents. Placido Polanco and Chase Utley had injury-plagued seasons and aren't getting any younger. The latest Golden Age of Phillies Baseball appears to be ending very badly, indeed.

But all is not lost. They will come back. The World Champion 1980 Phillies settled into 28 years of mediocrity until they won another title, but they did come back. Unfortunately, if it takes another 28 years for the Phils to win the World Series, it is highly unlikely that I will be alive to see it. I must cherish this moment. I will wear my Ryan Howard shirt until it falls from my body in tatters. I will proudly display Ryan's #6 past throngs of jeering Mets fans. If the 2011 season was my last shot, I will go out with my head held high.

Another World Series win would have been great, though. Damn you, Coughlin.

Trade-Offs

2011-10-20T06:25:00.000-07:00

It was scary growing up in the early 60s. Today's Express-Times notes that on this day in 1961, the newspaper informed its readers what would happen if a 50 megaton nuclear weapon were dropped on Easton's Center Circle. "Virtually all of Easton, Phillipsburg and the contiguous communities would vanish from the face of the earth. The initial violence of fission would vaporize everything within a mile radius of its point of explosion. The ensuing fireball would burgeon out over a seven mile radius consuming buildings and burning to death everyone outside the sturdiest underground shelters."

Whether the school basement area with those scary yellow and black signs qualified as a "sturdy underground shelter" was open to question. Our weekly drill of ducking beneath our school desks with out arms over our heads certainly didn't.

Paranoia increased when 10th grade Hygiene class changed from learning the three bones in the inner ear (hammer, anvil, and stirrup) for the fifth consecutive year to Nuclear Survival. "The Russians will certainly drop a bomb on Bethlehem Steel, so the Christmas City will be vaporized. The greatest danger for the rest of northeastern PA is nuclear fallout." The thing I'll always remember was that we were given wrapped loaves of bread and knives and shown how to carefully cut and peel back its wrapping so that nasty fallout wouldn't get on the bread itself.

Fifty years later, I realize that handing a knife to a 14 year old in a classroom setting might be more dangerous than nuclear fallout. Also, once the wrapper was removed, fallout would contaminate the exposed bread immediately. Still, the manually dexterous among us who successfully completed this task were given certificates and charged with insuring our families' survival.

As a side note, the sandwiches served in the school cafeteria on those days seemed to have more dirty fingerprints on them than usual.

Life is a series of trade-offs. 10th grade Hygiene traded potential stabbings in the hallways and likely post-lunch food poisoning for providing 14 year olds the knowledge to lead their families to post-nuclear safety. And they say that school isn't relevant.

Carnivores on the Loose

2011-10-19T05:49:00.000-07:00

We old-timers remember when it took a veritable blizzard for school to be called off. Unless the snow was over the Kindergarteners' heads and they couldn't breathe, we trudged through snow drifts to the old schoolhouse. Nowadays, a forecast for "wintry mix" (whatever that is) shuts down the Halls of Learning even if roads are dry at 7 AM.

Schools take any excuse to shut down - the First Day of Hunting Season, the Jewish High Holy Days, Teacher In-Service. Four school districts near Columbus, OH found a new excuse - Carnivores on the Loose. The keeper of an Exotic Animal Preserve was found dead yesterday and all the animal pens were opened. There are lions, tigers, and bears (Oh my!) not to mention wolves and other large carnivores wandering the Ohio countryside right now. Experts from the Columbus Zoo recommend that local residents stay indoors. Little Tiffany and Josh waiting at the school bus stop might look like Olde Country Buffet to a hungry lion.

My hometown lacked a zoo or even a nearby Exotic Animal Preserve. Still, I think that a pack of hungry wolves on the loose might have caused even our hard-hearted School Superintendent to call off classes. Many a time, I prayed for a blizzard when I was unprepared for a math or science test. Of course that was only realistic in mid-winter. Kids today have it so easy. They can avoid that test and get school called off any time of the year if there is a Breakout at the Zoo. No wonder the US ranks above only Swaziland and Bolivia in academic performance.

Risky Behavior

2011-10-18T07:00:00.000-07:00

You know it's a slow news day when the Today Show has a feature story on a woman who massages sharks into hypnosis in its first half hour. "Concentrate only on my hand, Sharky. You are getting sleepy...sleepy. Your eyelids are getting heavy...heavy. What do you mean you don't have eyelids? Cousteau, get me out of here before Sharky wakes up!"

The feature story that set my blood boiling though was that of a Michigan man who was jailed for Child Abuse for using his 9 year old daughter as his Designated Driver. A gas station convenience store camera with audio showed him buying the girl a candy apple and bragging that he was drunk and she was his driving his van. There was exterior video that showed the little girl hopping into a Safety Seat behind the wheel and pulling away from the pumps.

The issue here is whether it is better to have a 9 year old (possibly on a sugar high from that candy apple) or a drunk driving down the Interstate. I contend that the Public Safety is improved with the 9 year old. This is not Child Abuse. It is what all those Miller Lite commercial tag lines "Drink Responsibly" urge us to do.

Proponents of raising the Driving Age tell us that 16 year olds lack sufficient brain development to determine "risky behavior". Yet, we have an adult massaging sharks. My guess is that the Michigan 9 year old's brain is sufficiently developed to avoid manual contact with sharks and also to get her drunken Dad safely home.

Just Another Brick in the Wall

2011-10-17T04:07:00.000-07:00

People love to be scared. Halloween ranks only behind Christmas for consumer spending. You can't flip your TV remote without choosing a vampire, zombie, or attractive blonde wearing a semi-revealing outfit in peril show (or in the case of the Twilight trilogy - not-terribly-attractive and modestly dressed. We're Christians here!).

If it works for entertainment, why not use "scare tactics" in politics? Actually, it has worked out quite well in the past. Kennedy used the "Missle Gap". ("Elect Nixon and the Russians will have Sputniks orbiting your kids pre-school!). LBJ used the mushroom cloud behind the little girl picking daisies. ("If Goldwater wins, he will bomb our enemies back to the Stone Age and they might retaliate.") Bush Senior used Willie Horton. ("Dukakis let a murderer out on a prison furlough and he raped and murdered again. How good are your door locks, really?), and Bush, Jr had the whole Swift Boat thing (Sure, Kerry volunteered for dangerous service in Viet Nam while I used my Daddy's connections to go to Texas Air National Guard drills when I felt like it, but he probably didn't deserve those three Purple Hearts. Do you want a liar in the White House?")

Michele Bachmann is now using scare tactics to spur her Presidential bid. Saturday, she promised to build a fence on the US - Mexico border "And it will be every mile. It will be every yard. It will be every inch of that border because the portion you fail to secure is a highway into the US." Michele now kicks in with The Big Scare. "Fifty-nine thousand illegals came across that border this year from nations other than Mexico. They were from Yemen and from Syria. These are nations that are state sponsors of terrorism!"

Fifty-nine thousand crazed Arab terrorists swimming the Rio Grande and showing up on my suburban cul-de-sac each year! OMG! Build that fence, Michele!

Of course, Michele didn't exactly get her facts straight. Yemen is technically not a sponsor of terrorism per the State Dept, but the big one is that those 59,000 non-Mexican illegals were almost entirely Central and South Americans taking the only land path to the US from the south.

Not that the facts matter. We know that Frankenstein was actually a cultivated British actor in platform shoes, but he still scares us. We know that the 9/11 bombers entered this country legally through airports not by infiltrating from Mexico, but a big, honking wall will make us feel more secure. As H.L.Mencken said, "No one ever went broke underestimating the intelligence of the American public" or failed to be elected either.

They're People Too

2011-09-30T08:09:00.000-07:00

"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

2011-09-29T07:33:00.001-07:00

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?

2011-09-28T08:14:00.000-07:00

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?

2011-09-27T07:28:00.001-07:00

"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

2011-09-26T07:45:00.001-07:00

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

2011-09-23T07:17:00.000-07:00

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

2011-09-22T06:32:00.000-07:00

"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

2011-09-21T06:52:00.000-07:00

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

2011-09-20T06:19:00.001-07:00

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

2011-09-19T07:11:00.001-07:00

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

2011-09-16T07:33:00.000-07:00

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?

2011-09-15T08:10:00.001-07:00

"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

2011-09-14T07:30:00.001-07:00

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

2011-09-12T07:05:00.000-07:00

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

2011-09-09T07:29:00.001-07:00

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

2011-09-08T05:46:00.000-07:00

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

2011-09-06T07:50:00.001-07:00

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

2011-09-05T06:53:00.001-07:00

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

2011-09-02T06:11:00.001-07:00

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

2011-09-01T05:27:00.001-07:00

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?

Breakfast of Champions

2011-08-31T05:43:00.001-07:00

Vermont, of all places, appears to have sustained the greatest damage from Irene. The Green Mountain State now features great skiing, Ben & Jerry's, and isolated towns without passable roads, electricity or potable water.

The potable water thing brought back memories. In 1955, Hurricanes Connie and Diane followed much the same path as Irene did this year. As a seven year old in Scranton, I witnessed a helicopter rescuing some poor souls from the roof of a house on a flooded street and rowboats skittering over lakes that used to be baseball fields.

My fondest memory is breakfast during the Great Flood. There was no milk to be had. The municipal water and gas systems had been breached so Mom couldn't cook breakfast. It was cold cereal or nothing. But what to put over the cereal? The sole bottled fluid in our house was Pepsi Cola. My Breakfast of Champions was Pepsi over Frosted Flakes.

This was high octane, fully-sugared Pepsi. Tab, Fresca, and Diet Colas had not made the scene in 1955. A few bowls of Tony the Tiger's favorite cereal soaked in soda and I was on a sugar high that lasted until the Nixon Administration.

This was also before the days of fluoridated toothpaste. My filling-strewn molars are a memorial to those sugary, but so memorable breakfasts during the Great Flood of '55.

Enjoy it while you can, Vermonters!

Lebowski vs. Hannah Montana

2011-08-30T06:52:00.001-07:00

Sports Illustrated reported that "The Big Lebowski" star Jeff Bridges lost out to Miley Cyrus in a vote to induct a celebrity into the Bowling Hall of Fame.

"That's a foul, Donnie!" I demand a recount. The Dude's LIFE was bowling (and drinking White Russians, an exacta to be admired). Maintaining her teen-by-day, rock star-by-night "Hannah Montana" persona leaves little time for crucial "league play" by Ms Cyrus. Miley's "Best of Both Worlds" encompasses high school hi-jinks and sanitized pop music. The Dude's "Best of Both Worlds" is kegling and seeking that rug that "ties the room together". Which of these two appeals more to the average American bowler?

Of course, times are tough for lesser-known Halls of Fame. Fans continue to flock to Baseball's HOF in Cooperstown and Pro Football's in Canton, but even relocating from St Louis to Arlington, TX right next to Six Flags has not boosted attendance at the Bowling HOF. "You kids just stay in line for The Texas Giant, I'll mosey over to the Bowling Hall of Fame."

Lesser-known HOFs need a gimmick. The Boxing Hall of Fame set the precedent by inducting Sylvester Stallone this year. "Sure, Sly never actually set foot inside a real boxing ring, but more people will pay admission to see his plaque than would for Julio Cesar Chavez."

The Bowling HOF folks probably thought, "Having a vote between Lebowski and Miley Cyrus and having Miley win will cause more controversy than the Taylor Swift Grammy win over Beyonce a couple of years ago. People will want to come to Arlington to protest."

Despite this miscarriage of justice, the Dude abides. Ten years from now, "Hannah Montana - The Movie" will be gathering dust on DVD racks while "The Big Lebowski" will be shown on bowling center TVs nationwide.

The Sad Fate of Bob the Tomato

2011-08-29T07:05:00.000-07:00

What better way to put the devastation of Irene behind us than a trip to The Great Allentown Fair? We can forget those hours hunkered down without electricity watching our milk go sour and mold grow in our basements. We can rest our aching muscles after cleaning up storm debris. We can finally watch television programming that does not involve some clown in a windbreaker buffeted by wind and rain warning us of the same thing that we can see by looking out our window.

In an unintentionally comic moment, a Channel 69 reporter standing knee-deep on a flooded Allentown street stated, "Don't go outside and walk around flooded streets. As a trained journalist familiar with this area, I can do this." I was unaware that Journalism 101 gave you X-ray vision to detect storm drains and open manholes beneath rushing water. "We started the semester with 30 Journalism majors, but we lost five of them to drowning during Storm Coverage Lab last week."

This year's Fair has a typical all-star entertainment line-up. Middle-aged rock fans will enjoy Journey. Polka fans get Jimmy Sturr. Veggie Tale fans and aficionados of odd names get "Lucas Lasagna performing the best of Sinatra on Sept 4" according to the Fair's press release

Lucas Lasagna? Perhaps I've been over-exposed to "Veggie Tales", but I can't shake the mental image of an anthropomorphic tray of pasta, cheese, and tomato sauce singing "My Way". "Lucas Lasagna's performance last night was bubbly and perhaps a bit overdone, but when he emerged from that 350 degree oven after 45 minutes, the crowd was hungry for more!"

In fact, Veggie Tales writers could probably use Lucas Lasagna in an upcoming episode. Bob the Tomato disappears without warning. Larry the Cucumber and Jimmy and Jerry Gourd search fruitlessly (or vegetable-lessly) for their pal. They wander into the Allentown Fairgrounds drawn by muted screams of pain to discover Bob trapped under layers of pasta and cheese while Lucas croons "I've Got You Under My Skin".

"Twilight" meets "Veggie Tales". "Cowboys & Aliens" worked. Why not this?

Drunken Prank Gone Awry

2011-08-26T08:25:00.001-07:00

It is a rite of passage for teen-aged boys. Obtain some booze, get buzzed, do something stupid, and re-live the experience every time you get together for the next 50 years. Three Bethlehem lads will re-live their experience in front of a judge soon.

Last Monday, the trio broke into the Bethlehem Police Horse Paddock, chased the horses and tried to ride them. The "horses in blue" did not take kindly to this. One equine kicked an intruder in the head. Of course, "God takes care of babies and drunks" so the injury was not serious. What was serious was that someone (one of the horses?) called the police and the trio was apprehended . Charges included underage drinking, harassing police animals, defiant trespass, and disorderly conduct.

This drunken prank was a bad idea in so many ways:

1. The idea is to avoid police notice when drunk and underage. Breaking into police property will bring the boys in blue on the run.

2. Harassing a 1200 pound animal while lacking complete control of one's senses is an incredibly bad idea. If the creature you are chasing outweighs you by 1000 pounds, can run faster than you can, and has steel-clad hooves, you may want to leave him be.

3. No matter how many times you rode the pony at that Petting Farm, your equestrian ability may not be up to mounting a tired and cranky police horse who does not look kindly on extra duty after a hard day on the mean streets of Bethlehem.

One wonders what the judicial punishment is for "harassing a police animal". Worse yet, what will the other inmates say when your answer to "What are you in for?" is "I tried to ride a police horse, but it kicked me in the head."

Vampire Role Model

2011-08-24T08:23:00.000-07:00

We all need role models - the kindly family doctor who inspired us to a career in medicine, the high school drama teacher who unearthed our appreciation of theater, the grade school bully who eliminated our sense of human kindness.

Even prospective vampires need a role model. With "Twilight", "True Blood", Anne Rice's Lestat, and the classic Dracula out there which sort of vampiredom do we hope to achieve? Are we pretty boys yearning after a frankly unattractive human girl like Twilight's Edward Cullen? Are we sex-crazed, yet noble vamps like the "True Blood" characters? Are we persecuted, vulnerable evil doers like Lestat? Can we turn into bats or wolves like Drac? How cool would that be?

Last week, Lyle Monroe Bensley, 19, of Galveston, TX was found growling and hissing in a parking lot dressed only in his undershorts. Lyle claimed that he was a 500 year old vampire who needed to "feed" after breaking into a neighbor's house and attempting to suck her blood. Clearly, Lyle needs better vampire role models:

1. Dress for Success, Lyle! When Count Dracula showed up at a prospective victim's door in full evening wear plus cape, he got invited to enter. When that same victim looks out through the peephole and sees a guy dressed only in his undershorts, she double bolts the door. "No Type O negative for you!"

2. Growling and hissing are not the way to a victim's heart. "Twilight" readers expect frequent declarations of true love especially as spoken by the guy who played Cedric Diggory in that Harry Potter movie.

3. Don't hang out in a parking lot and expect to score. The "True Blood" vampires, shape-shifters, and werewolves all own bar / nightclubs. Let your victims come to you. "Tonight only at Fangtasia! Type AB-positives pay no cover charge!"

At least Lyle got one thing right. All of your great evil doers go with three names. There's John Wilkes Booth. Lee Harvey Oswald, Mark David Chapman (John Lennon's assassin) and, of course Attila The Hun.

The King Is Dead

2011-08-23T06:22:00.001-07:00

Certain characters freak me out. Clowns, mimes, ventriloquist dummies, and the Burger King "King" head the list. It's easy to avoid clowns, mimes, and ventriloquist acts, but the "King" was ubiquitous in recent Burger King TV ads. This adult with a plastic face wearing white tights and Mary Jane shoes (cute on little girls on Christmas Eve, scary on an August evening in a fast food joint) silently showed up in people's beds, peered through their windows, and surreptitiously slipped money into their pockets. The message was either:

1. Eat at Burger King. We offer great value and return money to your pocket. OR

2. Eat at Burger King and a masked cross-dresser will sneak into your house.

Burger King management wisely decided to scrap the "King" for its Fall, 2011 advertising campaign. Parents breathed a sigh of relief nationwide. We can take our kids to BK, slip that free paper "crown" on their heads and not have to explain that the creepy "King" from the TV commercials will not sneak into their bedroom at night and try to take back the crown.

Now if McDonalds' will only do something about that pesky clown.

The Zombie Prom

2011-08-19T06:49:00.001-07:00

Paraphrasing Cyndi Lauper, Zombies just want to have fun. Being one of the Walking Dead is hard work, rising from the grave and lumbering around in search of fresh brains to eat. They deserve a break.

Last night, Dorney Park gave it to them with its first "Zombie Invasion". From 8PM to midnight, only "Zombies" were allowed to enter the park in an attempt to set a Guinness World Record for the most costumed riders on an amusement park attraction. The goal was to have 250 "Zombies" ride the terrifying Steel Force coaster. Of course, that's terrifying to humans, not necessarily to the Undead.

Dorney Park Night has to be as big an occasion for Zombies as Prom Night is for high schoolers. Makeovers and primping are a must. Dorney offered "Zombie Makeup Artists" at the park for $10 to $40. Price was logically dependent on how moldered away Zombie customers were coming in. "Igor has been in the ground for 50 years. He has rotted away to nothing. Better give him the $40 treatment."

Tickets were priced at $30 and only valid after 3:30 PM. One wonders how a hard-working Zombie is going to come up with $30 plus up to $40 for a makeover. After all, "you can't take it with you" (to the grave, that is). Zombies will have to do what teens have done for years to raise Prom money. Don't be surprised if the attendant at the Drive-Thru Window is missing an ear or a nose. Expect to pick up that new babysitter at the cemetery. It's all part of the Zombie Prom.

Twinkie Log

2011-08-17T06:54:00.001-07:00

The CNN reporter delivered the news of Michele Bachmann's triumph in the Iowa Straw Poll on location from the Iowa State Fair. The gravity of the announcement was somewhat lessened by the signs on the tent behind the reporter that read "Fried Twinkies" and "Twinkie Logs".

CNN broadcasts around the world. Imagine a Paris financier or a Tokyo industrialist watching this coverage and wondering, "The next Leader of the Free World, the Person with His/Her Finger on the Nuclear Trigger took the first step toward that position in front of a Twinkie stand. Our candidates are announced in front of the Eiffel Tower or Mount Fuji. And those Americans wonder why their credit rating tanked. By the way, what is this Twinkie?"

As a red-blooded American, I am intimately familiar with the Twinkie and have even, in a weak moment, consumed a fried Twinkie. The Twinkie Log, however, must be an Iowa thing. How appropriate that native Iowan Michele Bachmann brought this new and exciting gustatory delight to the attention of the nation and the world. Jimmy Carter popularized Georgia peanuts. Ronald Reagan made jelly beans the snack of choice during his administration. G.W. Bush's love of pork rinds is well-documented. Should Michele Bachmann rise to the presidency, it could be Twinkie Log hors d'oeuvres at state dinners.

The problem is that, outside of Iowa, no one knows exactly what is a Twinkie Log. In my travels across the South, I encountered the ubiquitous Stuckey's peanut logs advertised on every other bill board and available at every Interstate rest stop. If the Twinkie Log is anything like the Peanut Log (a 4-inch diameter nougat covered in peanuts, sort of a Pay Day bar on steroids), the Bachmann Administration had best consider retaining Universal Health Care. Loyal Bachmannites will be flocking to the Diabetes Ward of their local hospitals.

Down With The Ampersand

2011-08-16T07:56:00.000-07:00

Interpersonal communication has evolved from face-to-face conversation to telephoning to texting. As it evolved, emotion was tossed aside by technology. Eye-to-eye contact and sympathetic facial expression went the way of the dodo when we progressed from face-to-face conversation to telephoning. We could roll our eyes and have a self-satisfied smirk when we telephoned, "Charlie, you really deserved that promotion that I got" and Charlie would be none the wiser.

The telephoning to texting step eliminated the fake sympathetic tone of voice as we texted, "Charlie, I'm sorry that Britney is going to the prom with someone else" as we chortled gleefully because Britney was going with us.

Interpersonal communications technology needs to add the personal touch. We need a quick and easy way to add emoticons to our texts. Charlie will feel a lot better about losing that promotion if we add the "sad face" :,-( but it takes three key strokes. Let's replace some of those rarely-used buttons on our keyboard with emoticons.

What's with that ^ above the 6? In scientific notation, it means "To the power of" as in 2^3 = 8. There are a lot more texters out there than scientists. Let's change ^ to "happy face" :-). We will wear out that key.

Then there's the ampersand sitting uselessly above the 7. Other than Abercrombie & Fitch or Barnes & Noble, who uses that? Everyone needs a "sad face" emoticon though. Down with the ampersand!

Let's go whole hog. Only old-timers on MS-DOS still use the "F" keys. There's twelve slots for more one-stroke, easy-to-use emoticons.

We may never return to face-to-face communication, but modifying the keyboard will put human emotion into texting.

Oscar at the Fest

2011-08-15T07:58:00.000-07:00

The 2011 version of Musik (with a k) fest had its share of spectacle. There was flooding, lightning, and an appearance by a Jonas brother. In fact, the flooding and lightning may have resulted from the hysteria generated by the Jonas appearance. Had all the Jonases been on-stage, Bethlehem would be totally underwater today as prepubescent shrieks brought down even more torrents of rain from the clouds.

Another icon paid an unexpected visit to the Fest. Police found a garbage can with a pair of legs dangling outside during their 11 PM "sweep" of the grounds. The officer helped Richard Follweiler out of the trash can, but Richard could not stand straight and began stumbling around. He was charged with public drunkeness. Police did not know what Richard was doing in the can. "Maybe he was portraying Oscar the Grouch," the officer quipped.

It takes a sense of humor to sweep up drunks from the Fest grounds, but this comment shows poor police work. Oscar is always portrayed feet-first in his garbage can. This is not a Sesame Street fan gone wild. It is likely the result of violence (or dumpster diving gone horribly wrong).

Richie Colossimo was the Class Clown at my high school back in the 60s. After basketball star Chaz Wozniak missed the lay-up that would have propelled our hoopsters into the state playoffs, Richie made the mistake of mocking the Chazster. Without a word, Chaz picked Richie up in the air, inverted him and deposited him head-first into a garbage can. Could the same fate have befallen Richard Follweiler at Musik (with a k) fest?

The Bethlehem PD should put out an All Points Bulletin for Chaz Wozniak. The man has a record of similar violence toward guys named Richie. The Oscar reference is a red herring. Of course, Mr Follweiler may have had googly eyes and acquired green fur during his sojourn in the can, but the streets of the Christmas City won't be safe until all the facts in this case are known.

The Right to Bear Fowl

2011-08-12T06:47:00.000-07:00

Mark Johnson of Lower Saucon Township gave up his pet rooster this week. The rooster repeatedly escaped from his cage and "bit or scratched passers-by with his spurs". "None of the walkers suffered serious injury, but police cited Johnson under the township's nuisance ordinance." He was fined hundreds of dollars.

Don't give up, Mark! The NRA (National Rooster Association) stands ready to help. Your 2nd Amendment rights have clearly been violated. NRA research shows that the Founding Fathers realized that many Americans back in 1791 could not afford a firearm, but still needed to protect their hearth and home. That is why the 2nd Amendment reads "the right to bear arms" not "the right to bear firearms". In post-colonial times, an "Attack Rooster" was the poor man's sole protector. Only Foghorn Leghorn stood between our forefathers and a capricious government intent on taxation and tyranny. The Founding Fathers knew that.

The courts have repeatedly upheld our fundamental right to self-protection. The "Castle Doctrine" allows us to fire away at intruders onto our property without warning or penalty. Firearms are certainly the most effective means of doing so, but you lose valuable time finding your gun, loading it, and tracking down the intruder. An "Attack Rooster", on the other hand, stands perpetual guard and will immediately fly to your family's defense.

Milquetoast Liberals might claim the same protection from a dog. Pish - Posh! A few Milk Bones and Fido will follow that intruder out the door with his ill-gotten gains. You can't bribe a rooster with food.

Over the years, those misguided Liberals have limited our 2nd Amendment rights with gun registration requirements, limits on carrying concealed weapons, and requiring trigger guards. We can circumvent these by using Attack Roosters for protection. Let Obama and his crowd try registering every rooster in America. Let the Feds frisk us for Foghorn Leghorn under our coat. They'll get a pecking they'll never forget . Let them try to fit a muzzle over Foghorn's beak.

Hang in there, Mark. You had the right idea. The Constitution says so.