Texting while driving is dangerous and illegal. Inadvertently changing stations on your car radio to Rush Limbaugh is equally hazardous to the motoring public.
Yesterday, I was cruising down the road when that irritating toenail fungus commercial came on Sports Radio 1. Yes, I know you had to cover your children's eyes when Bob took off his shoes and socks. Oh the horror! Clearly, it was time to punch the radio button for Sports Radio 2, but hand-eye coordination has never been my strong suit and instead I hit the button that brought The Rush Limbaugh Program to my waiting ears.
Rush noted that The Liberal Media was getting all over Senate candidate and Tea Party favorite Christine O'Donnell. Ms O'Donnell had stated that Darwin's Theory of Evolution cannot possibly be correct. If humankind truly descended from apes then why are there still gorillas out there? Shouldn't they all be people by now? Did some of them not get the memo?
The frightening prospect is that Ms O'Donnell has a 50 / 50 chance of being elected to the US Senate and once there might be assigned as chairman to some committee that oversees science or education. Of course, the late great Senator Ted Stevens was chairman of the committee that oversaw the airwaves and when asked, "What is the Internet?", replied, "Oh, it's just a bunch of tubes." Presumably, the real work is done by staff people who actually understand the business or technology that the committee is supposed to be regulating. But why take that chance? Let's elect Senators with at least a 10th grade grasp of science, math, and reading comprehension.
Rush wasn't about to let a red meat conservative comment like Ms O'Donnell's go by without attaching his spin. "The two most evil men in history are Charles Darwin and Sigmund Freud." Solid thinking, Rush. Clearly, humankind is uniquely created in God's image. Nature doesn't control us. We control it! We have the right to strip the Earth of its resources and pollute it if need be. Darwin and his Galapagos Islands, pish posh. Give me smoggy Route 22 at rush hour. That's what God intended!
As for Freud, why attempt to treat mental illness? Anyone who doesn't agree with me is obviously mentally ill and should be locked away or at the very least sent away to a work farm for "re-education." It worked so well for Stalin and Mao.
This bit of The Rush Limbaugh Program made me so mad, I nearly drove off the road. Texting while driving is probably less hazardous to Liberals than listening to Rush.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Dumpling
The term "dumpling" previously had a positive connotation in my mind. I would picture flaky, tasty apple dumplings from the bakery shelf. I'd imagine the feathery white dumplings that my mother would place over a steaming bowl of pork and sauerkraut. I'd recall those savory, filled pasta-like Chinese dumplings from The Dumpling House in lower Manhattan. Mention "dumpling" and I drool like a certain golden retriever I know over a bowl of Blue Buffalo kibble.
At least, I used to.
The bill of fare at the Steigl Beer Tent during Rupert Fest in Salzburg last Saturday included "Roast Ox with Dumpling". I wasn't real sure about the Roast Ox. Too many readings of "The Grinch" and its depiction of "Roast Beast" will do that. But how bad could it be if it included a dumpling? It took several liters of Stiegl to build up the courage to order the Roast Ox entree. The plate included a golf ball-sized lump of speckled white stuff immersed in gravy alongside a slab o' meat.
I cleverly deduced that the golf ball must be the dumpling and attempted to slice it with a steel knife (no plastic cutlery for Rupert Fest. Salzburg's patron saint insists on period authenticity and Rupie goes back to 600 AD). Knives must have been stronger then because this 21st century device wasn't doing the trick. It turns out that an Austrian dumpling must be based on Tolkien's Ring of Power, forged in the depths of Mount Doom and indestructible.
Equally indestructible was the Roast Ox. Apparently a few decades of pulling a plow (or whatever Austrian oxen do) really toughens you up. "Hans, let's sell ox meat to the tourists. They won't know any better and we won't have to make shoes out of it anymore."
Fortunately, Steigl came to the rescue. The accompanying gravy failed to tenderize either the Austrian dumpling or the ox meat, but good local beer cures all ills.
At least, I used to.
The bill of fare at the Steigl Beer Tent during Rupert Fest in Salzburg last Saturday included "Roast Ox with Dumpling". I wasn't real sure about the Roast Ox. Too many readings of "The Grinch" and its depiction of "Roast Beast" will do that. But how bad could it be if it included a dumpling? It took several liters of Stiegl to build up the courage to order the Roast Ox entree. The plate included a golf ball-sized lump of speckled white stuff immersed in gravy alongside a slab o' meat.
I cleverly deduced that the golf ball must be the dumpling and attempted to slice it with a steel knife (no plastic cutlery for Rupert Fest. Salzburg's patron saint insists on period authenticity and Rupie goes back to 600 AD). Knives must have been stronger then because this 21st century device wasn't doing the trick. It turns out that an Austrian dumpling must be based on Tolkien's Ring of Power, forged in the depths of Mount Doom and indestructible.
Equally indestructible was the Roast Ox. Apparently a few decades of pulling a plow (or whatever Austrian oxen do) really toughens you up. "Hans, let's sell ox meat to the tourists. They won't know any better and we won't have to make shoes out of it anymore."
Fortunately, Steigl came to the rescue. The accompanying gravy failed to tenderize either the Austrian dumpling or the ox meat, but good local beer cures all ills.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Fiery Footlongs
The commercial on Sports Radio touted Subway Fiery Footlong Subs as capable of "burning the wimp right out of you."
When I heard it, I was walking the dog with a bagful of poop in my hand and desperately in need of significant wimp retraction, fiery and painful though it may be. Would the macho act of consuming a Buffalo Chicken sandwich restore my masculinity? Would it cause the dog to fear my wrath to the extent that he would pick up his own poop? The commercial made it seem worth a try.
Returning home, the Phillies game featured a Subway commercial showing a gang of motorcyclists tooling through a desert "so hot that rattlesnakes combust" on their way to, you guessed it, a Subway where the fiery footlongs were even hotter than the desert. The message was clear. Consume a fiery footlong and you will be tougher than a Hell's Angel.
Business news reports last week noted that fast food sales are predominantly to young men ages 18 to 34. Some advertising genius decided that the best way to get this demographic's attention was to appeal to their masculinity. Let McDonald's brag on their salads, wraps, and frothy drinks, real men go to Subway, have the wimp burned right out of them, and roar into the desert sunset astride a Harley. Just thinking about it has hair sprouting from my nostrils and ears.
After consuming a fiery footlong, of course, your breath may be capable of peeling the paint off your imaginary Harley and your social life may suffer, but that's OK. If you're listening to Sports Radio or watching a mid-week Phillies game on TV, you probably don't have much of a social life anyway. On to Subway!
When I heard it, I was walking the dog with a bagful of poop in my hand and desperately in need of significant wimp retraction, fiery and painful though it may be. Would the macho act of consuming a Buffalo Chicken sandwich restore my masculinity? Would it cause the dog to fear my wrath to the extent that he would pick up his own poop? The commercial made it seem worth a try.
Returning home, the Phillies game featured a Subway commercial showing a gang of motorcyclists tooling through a desert "so hot that rattlesnakes combust" on their way to, you guessed it, a Subway where the fiery footlongs were even hotter than the desert. The message was clear. Consume a fiery footlong and you will be tougher than a Hell's Angel.
Business news reports last week noted that fast food sales are predominantly to young men ages 18 to 34. Some advertising genius decided that the best way to get this demographic's attention was to appeal to their masculinity. Let McDonald's brag on their salads, wraps, and frothy drinks, real men go to Subway, have the wimp burned right out of them, and roar into the desert sunset astride a Harley. Just thinking about it has hair sprouting from my nostrils and ears.
After consuming a fiery footlong, of course, your breath may be capable of peeling the paint off your imaginary Harley and your social life may suffer, but that's OK. If you're listening to Sports Radio or watching a mid-week Phillies game on TV, you probably don't have much of a social life anyway. On to Subway!
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Americanization Averted
Syndicated columnist Cal Thomas warned yesterday of "the Americanization of al-Queda leadership" which like the old Julie Andrews movie "The Americanization of Emily" involves foreigners infiltrating our fair land to spread fear and instability. After all these years, Julie Andrews still speaks with a British accent, you know. Drop the accent if you want to be a real American. Julie.
Cal points out that al-Queda is developing an embryonic recruitment infrastructure within the US involving immigrant and indigenous Muslims. Whatever shall we do? Cal recommends:
1. "Bar Muslim immigrants from Pakistan, Somalia, and Yemen." Solid thinking, Cal! Immigrants fleeing a totalitarian homeland have never worked out for America. We should never have allowed that Einstein guy in from Nazi Germany. Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, and Ben Franklin all descended form British-born parents when the UK was under that nasty King George. Who knows what they were really plotting in Independence Hall back in 1776? Come to think of it, every American except Sitting Bull (and, apparently, Cal Thomas) came here to escape oppression.
2. Ban "the uncontrolled construction of mosques as well as Islamic schools some of which have already sown the seeds from which future terrorists will be cultivated". Great grasp of history, Cal! Harvard and Yale were founded to train religious leaders and to this day have prominent Divinity Schools. Those hotbeds of religious radicalism are the alma mater of every current Supreme Court justice and we know what a bunch of radicals they are.
3. Stop "the large-scale conversion to Islam of prison inmates many of whom become radicalized and upon release enlist in al-Queda's army." Right on, Cal! It wasn't until after they were released from prison that Lenin and Hitler became radicalized and look what happened as a result. Or maybe they were fairly radical before prison, who knows?
Cal concludes his column on a chilling note. "Syria has asked imams for recordings of their Friday sermons and is closely monitoring what is taught in their religious schools... What does Syria know that we refuse to acknowledge out of fear of offending sensibilities?" Great idea, Cal! Let's establish a reverse Inquisition where the government tortures religious leaders if they don't parrot the party line. We can learn a lot from Syria.
Isn't Syria a Muslim country, though? Could it be that Islamofascism has less to do with Islam than with Fascism? Is every single one of the billion Muslims world-wide our sworn enemy? Let's not take any chances though. Keep them outside our borders. Don't allow their mosques or schools. Keep them away from our prisons. You tell 'em, Cal.
Cal points out that al-Queda is developing an embryonic recruitment infrastructure within the US involving immigrant and indigenous Muslims. Whatever shall we do? Cal recommends:
1. "Bar Muslim immigrants from Pakistan, Somalia, and Yemen." Solid thinking, Cal! Immigrants fleeing a totalitarian homeland have never worked out for America. We should never have allowed that Einstein guy in from Nazi Germany. Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, and Ben Franklin all descended form British-born parents when the UK was under that nasty King George. Who knows what they were really plotting in Independence Hall back in 1776? Come to think of it, every American except Sitting Bull (and, apparently, Cal Thomas) came here to escape oppression.
2. Ban "the uncontrolled construction of mosques as well as Islamic schools some of which have already sown the seeds from which future terrorists will be cultivated". Great grasp of history, Cal! Harvard and Yale were founded to train religious leaders and to this day have prominent Divinity Schools. Those hotbeds of religious radicalism are the alma mater of every current Supreme Court justice and we know what a bunch of radicals they are.
3. Stop "the large-scale conversion to Islam of prison inmates many of whom become radicalized and upon release enlist in al-Queda's army." Right on, Cal! It wasn't until after they were released from prison that Lenin and Hitler became radicalized and look what happened as a result. Or maybe they were fairly radical before prison, who knows?
Cal concludes his column on a chilling note. "Syria has asked imams for recordings of their Friday sermons and is closely monitoring what is taught in their religious schools... What does Syria know that we refuse to acknowledge out of fear of offending sensibilities?" Great idea, Cal! Let's establish a reverse Inquisition where the government tortures religious leaders if they don't parrot the party line. We can learn a lot from Syria.
Isn't Syria a Muslim country, though? Could it be that Islamofascism has less to do with Islam than with Fascism? Is every single one of the billion Muslims world-wide our sworn enemy? Let's not take any chances though. Keep them outside our borders. Don't allow their mosques or schools. Keep them away from our prisons. You tell 'em, Cal.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Saving Bikini Season
A scene from TV's "House, M.D.":
CUDDY: "House, here's an unusual one and right up your alley. An 18 year old girl came in to the ER today with an unsightly brown mark on her upper thigh. It's almost bikini season and she is panicking."
HOUSE: "I will assemble my staff, listen to their diagnoses, mock them, start treatment, almost kill the patient, and just before the show is over, notice something totally irrelevant relating to the personal lives of the patient, me, or my staff, and come up with a miracle cure. Hey, it's worked for six seasons, innumerable reruns, and won me an Emmy. Let's go!"
WILSON: "That unsightly brown mark could be skin cancer. I'd recommend immediate radiation and chemo."
HOUSE: "Cancer, cancer, cancer. It's always cancer with you, Wilson. If your nose hairs need trimming, it must be The Big C! Next."
CHASE: "It could be the reverse of that thing that Michael Jackson had with white skin turning black instead of the other way around. If our patient can't sing or Moonwalk and wears two sequined gloves, she might have Reverse Michael Jackson Syndrome."
HOUSE: "Great idea, Chase. Let's pump her full of painkillers and send her off on tour. That worked so well for MJ. Next."
CAMERON: "I think that it's a rare capillary disease where the tiny blood vessels burst. This gives us a chance to show the viewers those cool "inside the body" CGI effects."
HOUSE: "That rare capillary disease is known as bruising, Cameron. The patient is not going "ouch" when we touch the area, so it's' not a bruise. Plus, bruises heal slowly and we've only got an hour of TV time."
HOUSE glances at the computer on his desk and smiles enigmatically.
HOUSE: "Did anyone think to ask the young lady whether she owns a laptop? A Pennsylvania dermatologist diagnosed a similar case as "Erythma ab igne", a rash from localized heat exposure usually found in nursing home patients who slept with a hot water bottle (or with a hot nurse as Groucho would say). The laptop's battery emits enough heat to cause a permanent rash. Give her an old-fashioned "tower" computer and some pancake make-up. Bikini season will be saved!"
THE NEXT DAY
CUDDY: "Your diagnosis was correct, House, but the patient tipped over the "tower" computer on her lap and it shattered her pelvis leading to hemorrhage."
HOUSE: "Great, that's the near-fatal scare that we do every episode. Bring in my staff again and stoke up the CGI effects. We've got the rest of the hour to fill."
By the way, the laptop rash thing is actually true. It was published in "Contemporary Pediatrics" and featured in newsppaer articles.
CUDDY: "House, here's an unusual one and right up your alley. An 18 year old girl came in to the ER today with an unsightly brown mark on her upper thigh. It's almost bikini season and she is panicking."
HOUSE: "I will assemble my staff, listen to their diagnoses, mock them, start treatment, almost kill the patient, and just before the show is over, notice something totally irrelevant relating to the personal lives of the patient, me, or my staff, and come up with a miracle cure. Hey, it's worked for six seasons, innumerable reruns, and won me an Emmy. Let's go!"
WILSON: "That unsightly brown mark could be skin cancer. I'd recommend immediate radiation and chemo."
HOUSE: "Cancer, cancer, cancer. It's always cancer with you, Wilson. If your nose hairs need trimming, it must be The Big C! Next."
CHASE: "It could be the reverse of that thing that Michael Jackson had with white skin turning black instead of the other way around. If our patient can't sing or Moonwalk and wears two sequined gloves, she might have Reverse Michael Jackson Syndrome."
HOUSE: "Great idea, Chase. Let's pump her full of painkillers and send her off on tour. That worked so well for MJ. Next."
CAMERON: "I think that it's a rare capillary disease where the tiny blood vessels burst. This gives us a chance to show the viewers those cool "inside the body" CGI effects."
HOUSE: "That rare capillary disease is known as bruising, Cameron. The patient is not going "ouch" when we touch the area, so it's' not a bruise. Plus, bruises heal slowly and we've only got an hour of TV time."
HOUSE glances at the computer on his desk and smiles enigmatically.
HOUSE: "Did anyone think to ask the young lady whether she owns a laptop? A Pennsylvania dermatologist diagnosed a similar case as "Erythma ab igne", a rash from localized heat exposure usually found in nursing home patients who slept with a hot water bottle (or with a hot nurse as Groucho would say). The laptop's battery emits enough heat to cause a permanent rash. Give her an old-fashioned "tower" computer and some pancake make-up. Bikini season will be saved!"
THE NEXT DAY
CUDDY: "Your diagnosis was correct, House, but the patient tipped over the "tower" computer on her lap and it shattered her pelvis leading to hemorrhage."
HOUSE: "Great, that's the near-fatal scare that we do every episode. Bring in my staff again and stoke up the CGI effects. We've got the rest of the hour to fill."
By the way, the laptop rash thing is actually true. It was published in "Contemporary Pediatrics" and featured in newsppaer articles.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Confessions of an Anti-Dentite
Random thoughts while undergoing my semi-annual Dental Exam / Cleaning / Prophylaxis:
Prophylaxis sounds vaguely obscene. With a name like that, it should be a fun "forbidden fruit" sort of thing rather than an ordeal.
What the hell do I look at while the Hygienist is poking around my mouth? I can't look at her. That would make me some sort of pervert. The acoustical ceiling tile gets really boring after a while. Some day, progressive dentists will have DVDs projected on the ceiling to keep patients calm much like parents have DVD screens in the back of the family minivan to keep the little ones occupied during long trips.
My sinuses are draining and clogging my airway. I'm going to suffocate here on the dentist's chair! At my funeral, they will all say, "The Organ Donor Bank refused his corneas and kidneys, but they took his bicuspids. He gave the gift of chewing to some poor soul in West Virginia."
If that modern ultrasonic tartar-bashing thingie that the Hygienist just used is so great, why is she scraping away on my teeth with that stainless steel pick anyway? Is she scraping away good tooth enamel so that I will have cavities there next time? Not that I'm paranoid, but it's an ADA plot. All the dentists do it.
Where does my tongue go now? Don't stab it with that pick! Just tell me, I'll do anything you say.
Why does that spit suction thingie hang over my front teeth when my head is tilted back and all my saliva is draining back toward my throat (and, by the way, choking me). Liquids flow downhill, or didn't they teach you that in Dental School?
In the words of Kramer, "I'm a raving anti-Dentite."
It's all over, you say? Damn, my mouth feels good. See you in six months!
Prophylaxis sounds vaguely obscene. With a name like that, it should be a fun "forbidden fruit" sort of thing rather than an ordeal.
What the hell do I look at while the Hygienist is poking around my mouth? I can't look at her. That would make me some sort of pervert. The acoustical ceiling tile gets really boring after a while. Some day, progressive dentists will have DVDs projected on the ceiling to keep patients calm much like parents have DVD screens in the back of the family minivan to keep the little ones occupied during long trips.
My sinuses are draining and clogging my airway. I'm going to suffocate here on the dentist's chair! At my funeral, they will all say, "The Organ Donor Bank refused his corneas and kidneys, but they took his bicuspids. He gave the gift of chewing to some poor soul in West Virginia."
If that modern ultrasonic tartar-bashing thingie that the Hygienist just used is so great, why is she scraping away on my teeth with that stainless steel pick anyway? Is she scraping away good tooth enamel so that I will have cavities there next time? Not that I'm paranoid, but it's an ADA plot. All the dentists do it.
Where does my tongue go now? Don't stab it with that pick! Just tell me, I'll do anything you say.
Why does that spit suction thingie hang over my front teeth when my head is tilted back and all my saliva is draining back toward my throat (and, by the way, choking me). Liquids flow downhill, or didn't they teach you that in Dental School?
In the words of Kramer, "I'm a raving anti-Dentite."
It's all over, you say? Damn, my mouth feels good. See you in six months!
Monday, September 13, 2010
A Lehigh Valley Comeback
Why don't newspapers print "good" news? The daily litany of explosions in California, deaths in Afghanistan, and our beloved Eagles going down to injury and defeat is enough to curdle the milk over our Cheerios. Then, a plucky 14 year-old from Allentown added joy to our morning coffee.
Marlee Senderowitz is one of twenty finalists in the "Live! With Regis & Kelly Wild & Wacky Talent Contest". Marlee has won $2,500 to date and is eligible to win the grand prize of $20,000 and a lifetime supply of Trident gum. Considering that she may have 70 more years of chewing, that could be a whole lot of gum. "Congratulations on your victory, Marlee. I'll just back this tractor trailer full of gum to your garage and dump all those packs of pure breath-freshening goodness in there. You may want to invite some friends over for a chewing party if you ever want to get your car out."
And what is Marlee's Wild & Wacky Talent? It's inflating a balloon by blowing air through her nose. She has wowed her audiences at summer camp and at family gatherings. "After her sister plays 'Fur Elise' on the piano and we've hopefully digested our dessert, Marlee will blow up a balloon through her nose. Use the little brown bags alongside your seat if you feel queasy."
The Wild & Wacky Talent Competition is tough this year. Marlee's rivals include a woman who whistles with her toes (I never could master that two-fingers-in-the-mouth super-shrill whistling technique. If I'd tried two-toes-in-the-mouth, I might have had better luck.), a girl who plays the piano backwards (Big deal! That no-talent Mozart did it 200 years ago if we believe the film "Amadeus"), and an amazing basketball shooter (Amazing? Let's see him make a free throw propelling the ball from his nose).
It's up to us, Lehigh Valley. We can vote on-line to bring Marlee to victory. America no longer looks at the Lehigh Valley and thinks of Bethlehem Steel, Mack Trucks, or Dixie Cups. After Marlee's win, we will be the Wild & Wacky Talent Capital of the USA. Let's see every mile marker on Route 22 festooned with a nasally-inflated balloon. Now, that would be a "good news" story for our morning paper.
Marlee Senderowitz is one of twenty finalists in the "Live! With Regis & Kelly Wild & Wacky Talent Contest". Marlee has won $2,500 to date and is eligible to win the grand prize of $20,000 and a lifetime supply of Trident gum. Considering that she may have 70 more years of chewing, that could be a whole lot of gum. "Congratulations on your victory, Marlee. I'll just back this tractor trailer full of gum to your garage and dump all those packs of pure breath-freshening goodness in there. You may want to invite some friends over for a chewing party if you ever want to get your car out."
And what is Marlee's Wild & Wacky Talent? It's inflating a balloon by blowing air through her nose. She has wowed her audiences at summer camp and at family gatherings. "After her sister plays 'Fur Elise' on the piano and we've hopefully digested our dessert, Marlee will blow up a balloon through her nose. Use the little brown bags alongside your seat if you feel queasy."
The Wild & Wacky Talent Competition is tough this year. Marlee's rivals include a woman who whistles with her toes (I never could master that two-fingers-in-the-mouth super-shrill whistling technique. If I'd tried two-toes-in-the-mouth, I might have had better luck.), a girl who plays the piano backwards (Big deal! That no-talent Mozart did it 200 years ago if we believe the film "Amadeus"), and an amazing basketball shooter (Amazing? Let's see him make a free throw propelling the ball from his nose).
It's up to us, Lehigh Valley. We can vote on-line to bring Marlee to victory. America no longer looks at the Lehigh Valley and thinks of Bethlehem Steel, Mack Trucks, or Dixie Cups. After Marlee's win, we will be the Wild & Wacky Talent Capital of the USA. Let's see every mile marker on Route 22 festooned with a nasally-inflated balloon. Now, that would be a "good news" story for our morning paper.
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