What?! The IRS has been going after groups that chant, "Down with the IRS!"?
Yeah, right. Sure thing.
Next, you'll be telling me that the Department of Justice has been secretly seizing the phone records of reporters.
This is America, in case you've forgotten - where our governmental officials act with the up-most of integrity. At least, until they get caught.
Translate
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Saturday, May 04, 2013
Look Ma, I'm back in College!
So I'm about to plow into week three of my class through coursera.org. Even though Ohio State University offers their rhetorical writing class for free, they still have it set up as a full course complete with lectures, several assignments, and student-teacher interaction.
What amazed me about this course is that there is over 20,000 people signed up for it, several thousand on the forums, and a few thousand participating in the assignments.
The class's syllabus mentioned there would be about six hours of homework. Maybe it's because I haven't been in college for several years, but this work is taking a lot more than six hours.
One of the first assignments was to simply writing an article that introduced yourself to the "class". Here's what I wrote:
"Know your audience" and "Let them eat cake" are both well-quoted pieces of advice. And, had she listened to her publicist instead of her baker, Marie Antoinette might have lasted into the 1800s.
So, "How do I get to know my audience?" I wondered about this as I nibbled on my tasty dessert. I know you're out there. I can hear you typing - all several thousand of you (based on this course's statistics).
Not only do I have to know all of you, but this assignment is titled "Getting to Know You" as in "you knowing me". This means opening up, exposing myself. I might as well be helping people eat better by strolling by fast food restaurants wearing only a Speedo. As that poster child of unhealthy eating, I can have people spitting up those dollar cheeseburgers in no time.
Sorry. I apologize for that imagery. I hope you are not eating as you read this. However, if you have a sudden loss of appetite, please let me know. I might be on to the next greatest infomercial product for weight loss. No dancing involved. Just a lot jiggling.
Yes, I know. Should people get to know me only if they're armed with a barf bag? That doesn't inspire confidence for any beginning writer, does it. "Say, have you read my latest?" "Excuse me, … bbbbbBaARF." "Sorry, is my grammar that bad?"
So who are you? What would you like to know that will enrich your life? Perhaps, the first time the power of writing revealed itself to me?
In third grade, I wrote a story involving my friends as dirty snowballs. While reading that story to the class during our recess period, one of my friends laughed hard enough to spew milk out of his nose. This was pretty amazing since we weren't drinking milk. (Just kidding. He was breast-feeding at the time. It was a very progressive school.)
I tell this in hopes that you aren't a former classmate. Or my former friend who now has a debilitating nose injury and seeks retribution. Or a lawyer who loves creating legal briefs for dirty snowballs.
I'm just pointing out the power I discovered at an early age. It was like being a superhero who wears a cape made of paper and magical words. I felt I could throw this cape at the worst of fiends, then overpower them while they lay helpless with laughter. (As a youngster, I believed all fiends were readers. Look at comic books. Show me one crook who failed to react to Superman's speech balloon. That's a fiend reader, my friend.)
Almost a decade later, writing revealed its power of empathy. It was during my high school "senior writing assignment of death". You know, that final course grade that means the difference between graduating on to college, or being condemned to a job of repeating "you want fries with that?".
To graduate, I did what every responsible teenager does - I waited until the last few days of the deadline and then threw my adolescent angst into a story. Yes, I got an "A". I later discovered that my woeful tale ended up being circulated throughout the school. Apparently I wasn't the only one suffering turmoil of pimples and unpopularity while trying to laugh about it.
The muses of writing came to my aid in my adult years too. As an engineer and manager, my writing consisted of thrilling - well, almost - technical documents, often-ignored instruction manuals, and diplomatic emails to my bosses.
Diplomatic email? Anyone can point out the asinine ways of their gracious overlords. But a skillfully craft message keeps your job intact, and has your boss readily agreeing with you that he (or she) is an ass.
The next alluring moment of scrivening came during one of those wonderful, life-changing events: a costly divorce. To survive and to care for my family, I set up a blog and began earning money. I learned the fine art of writing meaningless reviews and of creating entries with SEO links. Sure, I put in lots of hours while pocketing less than minimum-wage. But those posts paid bills.
For example, one client assigned me the keywords "wedding reception". So I wrote about the marriage of two TV antennas. They had a terrible wedding, but a wonderful reception afterwards. While my post paid five bucks, it - like most of those assignments - only cost me a tiny bit of my dignity.
Writing such pieces taught me another important lesson. In fact, I want to share it with you ... and you, and you, and you, and you. And especially - you. That lesson being this: Meet your word count by padding your writing with needless filler phrases. (800 words, here I come.)
Know what else I've learned? Being a writer isn't as complicated as we might make it out to be. We simply record our thoughts so others can read them. What others do after they read your inspiring prose is up to their lawyers and your elected officials.
What I'm trying to say is this: We are all writers. Placing your signature and a gratuity on your dinner tab is writing. Granted, you're not going to win any Pulitzer prizes. But, if you aren't a stingy bastard, you made your waitress or waiter a very happy reader.
So, do I know you? Do I challenge your thoughts, or put you to sleep (not a bad thing if you are suffering with insomnia)? Did you enjoy this passing of time, or do you have regrets about the minutes lost reading my drivel?
OK. Here we are, finally at the end. As I stressed over this assignment's goals, I realized something - in 100 years, no one will care. In 1000 years, no one will remember.
Unless, of course, these scribblings becomes an epic work. In that case, I would like my royalties now please. Cash gratefully accepted; banknotes of 50s and 100s always welcome.
If you've made it this far, I know one thing about you. You are a patient group of readers. Thank you. Please enjoy your cake.
What amazed me about this course is that there is over 20,000 people signed up for it, several thousand on the forums, and a few thousand participating in the assignments.
The class's syllabus mentioned there would be about six hours of homework. Maybe it's because I haven't been in college for several years, but this work is taking a lot more than six hours.
One of the first assignments was to simply writing an article that introduced yourself to the "class". Here's what I wrote:
"Know your audience" and "Let them eat cake" are both well-quoted pieces of advice. And, had she listened to her publicist instead of her baker, Marie Antoinette might have lasted into the 1800s.
So, "How do I get to know my audience?" I wondered about this as I nibbled on my tasty dessert. I know you're out there. I can hear you typing - all several thousand of you (based on this course's statistics).
Not only do I have to know all of you, but this assignment is titled "Getting to Know You" as in "you knowing me". This means opening up, exposing myself. I might as well be helping people eat better by strolling by fast food restaurants wearing only a Speedo. As that poster child of unhealthy eating, I can have people spitting up those dollar cheeseburgers in no time.
Sorry. I apologize for that imagery. I hope you are not eating as you read this. However, if you have a sudden loss of appetite, please let me know. I might be on to the next greatest infomercial product for weight loss. No dancing involved. Just a lot jiggling.
Yes, I know. Should people get to know me only if they're armed with a barf bag? That doesn't inspire confidence for any beginning writer, does it. "Say, have you read my latest?" "Excuse me, … bbbbbBaARF." "Sorry, is my grammar that bad?"
So who are you? What would you like to know that will enrich your life? Perhaps, the first time the power of writing revealed itself to me?
In third grade, I wrote a story involving my friends as dirty snowballs. While reading that story to the class during our recess period, one of my friends laughed hard enough to spew milk out of his nose. This was pretty amazing since we weren't drinking milk. (Just kidding. He was breast-feeding at the time. It was a very progressive school.)
I tell this in hopes that you aren't a former classmate. Or my former friend who now has a debilitating nose injury and seeks retribution. Or a lawyer who loves creating legal briefs for dirty snowballs.
I'm just pointing out the power I discovered at an early age. It was like being a superhero who wears a cape made of paper and magical words. I felt I could throw this cape at the worst of fiends, then overpower them while they lay helpless with laughter. (As a youngster, I believed all fiends were readers. Look at comic books. Show me one crook who failed to react to Superman's speech balloon. That's a fiend reader, my friend.)
Almost a decade later, writing revealed its power of empathy. It was during my high school "senior writing assignment of death". You know, that final course grade that means the difference between graduating on to college, or being condemned to a job of repeating "you want fries with that?".
To graduate, I did what every responsible teenager does - I waited until the last few days of the deadline and then threw my adolescent angst into a story. Yes, I got an "A". I later discovered that my woeful tale ended up being circulated throughout the school. Apparently I wasn't the only one suffering turmoil of pimples and unpopularity while trying to laugh about it.
The muses of writing came to my aid in my adult years too. As an engineer and manager, my writing consisted of thrilling - well, almost - technical documents, often-ignored instruction manuals, and diplomatic emails to my bosses.
Diplomatic email? Anyone can point out the asinine ways of their gracious overlords. But a skillfully craft message keeps your job intact, and has your boss readily agreeing with you that he (or she) is an ass.
The next alluring moment of scrivening came during one of those wonderful, life-changing events: a costly divorce. To survive and to care for my family, I set up a blog and began earning money. I learned the fine art of writing meaningless reviews and of creating entries with SEO links. Sure, I put in lots of hours while pocketing less than minimum-wage. But those posts paid bills.
For example, one client assigned me the keywords "wedding reception". So I wrote about the marriage of two TV antennas. They had a terrible wedding, but a wonderful reception afterwards. While my post paid five bucks, it - like most of those assignments - only cost me a tiny bit of my dignity.
Writing such pieces taught me another important lesson. In fact, I want to share it with you ... and you, and you, and you, and you. And especially - you. That lesson being this: Meet your word count by padding your writing with needless filler phrases. (800 words, here I come.)
Know what else I've learned? Being a writer isn't as complicated as we might make it out to be. We simply record our thoughts so others can read them. What others do after they read your inspiring prose is up to their lawyers and your elected officials.
What I'm trying to say is this: We are all writers. Placing your signature and a gratuity on your dinner tab is writing. Granted, you're not going to win any Pulitzer prizes. But, if you aren't a stingy bastard, you made your waitress or waiter a very happy reader.
So, do I know you? Do I challenge your thoughts, or put you to sleep (not a bad thing if you are suffering with insomnia)? Did you enjoy this passing of time, or do you have regrets about the minutes lost reading my drivel?
OK. Here we are, finally at the end. As I stressed over this assignment's goals, I realized something - in 100 years, no one will care. In 1000 years, no one will remember.
Unless, of course, these scribblings becomes an epic work. In that case, I would like my royalties now please. Cash gratefully accepted; banknotes of 50s and 100s always welcome.
If you've made it this far, I know one thing about you. You are a patient group of readers. Thank you. Please enjoy your cake.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Buzz off, Suckers!
Today's summer time helpful hint comes from my co-workers who enjoy lazing outdoors after work. They say you can keep mosquitoes from biting by surrounding yourself with lemongrass.
No one seems to know why this works. My guess is that, after hungry mosquitoes take a hit of that lemony plant, those little buggers aren't biting anything with a puckered proboscis.
No one seems to know why this works. My guess is that, after hungry mosquitoes take a hit of that lemony plant, those little buggers aren't biting anything with a puckered proboscis.
Sunday, April 21, 2013
7-years of my driving as a chart
Early in the last decade, my life became blessed by that truly life-changing experience: a bitter and costly divorce. To survive, I tracked every penny as I worked to take care of my family.
Part of my penny-pinching strategies involved obsessively recording my gas receipts. I did this because some of my job includes tracking trends and data analysis. Since my Hyundai Tiburon crossed the 100,000-mile warranty mark, I wanted to catch and prepare for any upcoming mechanical failures.
Also, and truth is, I'm a math geek. There. I admitted it. Feel better?
I would record each ticket into a spreadsheet: the cost per gallon, my miles driven since last fill up, the amount of the gas purchase. The spreadsheet would then calculate the cost per mile, my miles per gallon, and trend lines about the data.
So now, after retiring my faithful Tiburon at 325,000 miles, I have almost 8 years of recordings. Today, I had one last look at the data I've collected. It's interesting because of the historical reporting of gas prices in my neck of the woods.
For some silly reason I thought I would share this with you. Perhaps I can do some good for anyone with insomnia. You can click on the charts for a bigger, better view. Oh joy!
The miles per gallon chart shows the average for each month. This is all of the miles driven for that month divided by the total gallons I put into the car.
One of the first troublesome trends the chart told me about was when my miles per gallon dropped dramatically as you can see. Turned out that my car's speed sensor was acting erratic. I didn't have to replace it immediately because I was testing various GPS systems for my company and relied on the speed reported by those units. This bought me a few months to put money together for the repair that October 2006.
This lengthy chart shows my cost per mile and the average price per gallon for each month. You can see on we had that ridiculous gas price bubble in 2007. And you can see how prices change seasonally.
And being the geek that I am I like to try and find correlations between groups of numbers. In this graph I'm comparing my cost per mile to my cost per gallon. That slope of the trend line in the midst of all those points gives you an approximate idea of my miles per gallon.
And so, there you have it - I drove a car a lot miles, put gas in it, and lived to tell about it. Are you still awake?
Part of my penny-pinching strategies involved obsessively recording my gas receipts. I did this because some of my job includes tracking trends and data analysis. Since my Hyundai Tiburon crossed the 100,000-mile warranty mark, I wanted to catch and prepare for any upcoming mechanical failures.
Also, and truth is, I'm a math geek. There. I admitted it. Feel better?
I would record each ticket into a spreadsheet: the cost per gallon, my miles driven since last fill up, the amount of the gas purchase. The spreadsheet would then calculate the cost per mile, my miles per gallon, and trend lines about the data.
So now, after retiring my faithful Tiburon at 325,000 miles, I have almost 8 years of recordings. Today, I had one last look at the data I've collected. It's interesting because of the historical reporting of gas prices in my neck of the woods.
For some silly reason I thought I would share this with you. Perhaps I can do some good for anyone with insomnia. You can click on the charts for a bigger, better view. Oh joy!
The miles per gallon chart shows the average for each month. This is all of the miles driven for that month divided by the total gallons I put into the car.One of the first troublesome trends the chart told me about was when my miles per gallon dropped dramatically as you can see. Turned out that my car's speed sensor was acting erratic. I didn't have to replace it immediately because I was testing various GPS systems for my company and relied on the speed reported by those units. This bought me a few months to put money together for the repair that October 2006.
This lengthy chart shows my cost per mile and the average price per gallon for each month. You can see on we had that ridiculous gas price bubble in 2007. And you can see how prices change seasonally.
And being the geek that I am I like to try and find correlations between groups of numbers. In this graph I'm comparing my cost per mile to my cost per gallon. That slope of the trend line in the midst of all those points gives you an approximate idea of my miles per gallon.And so, there you have it - I drove a car a lot miles, put gas in it, and lived to tell about it. Are you still awake?
Saturday, April 13, 2013
Free College Courses
I don't mean that someone has jailed college courses and we need to free them. No, most college classes are out in the open and readily available. "Readily" being an old English word meaning "more money than you have".
I think that's what it means. What do I know. I can't afford to go back to college and learn otherwise.
That's way I'm happy to report what I've found: Several big-name institutes of higher ed-u-ma-cation offer free courses. But, since you are smarter than I am, you already know about coursesa.org. Sorry, I'm riding the short bus of the Internet, so it takes me a little while longer to catch-up.
In any case, I'm signed up to take a course on "Rhetorical Composing" given by Ohio State University. So if you read my subsequent posts and begin to feel persuaded to do something besides sleeping, well, my short bus is getting a little longer. Prutty soon, I might be able to type without wearing my helmet. But don't expect miracles.
I think that's what it means. What do I know. I can't afford to go back to college and learn otherwise.
That's way I'm happy to report what I've found: Several big-name institutes of higher ed-u-ma-cation offer free courses. But, since you are smarter than I am, you already know about coursesa.org. Sorry, I'm riding the short bus of the Internet, so it takes me a little while longer to catch-up.
In any case, I'm signed up to take a course on "Rhetorical Composing" given by Ohio State University. So if you read my subsequent posts and begin to feel persuaded to do something besides sleeping, well, my short bus is getting a little longer. Prutty soon, I might be able to type without wearing my helmet. But don't expect miracles.
Monday, April 08, 2013
Forgive me, Old Friend.
We've been together for over 12 years. I thought - I hoped - that we would go further. But age wears on all things - our bodies, our minds, our relationships.
You probably don't know how excited I was in early September of 2001 when we first got together. I know you won't understand how important you were in all of my adventures since then. And you will never feel the depth and pain of my regret when we parted company this past Saturday.
I have no misgivings for the time and money I spent to care for you - especially these past few months. But I can no longer depend upon you. You've let me down one too many times.
After 325,500 miles, you served your purpose. If I were a rich man, I could have kept you restored in an immortal glory. Of course, if I were a rich man, your successor would not have been a cheap replacement.
I never understood how anyone could love a 2-ton hunk of metal and plastic and oil. But then you came into my life. Thank you, my dear, inanimate friend, my motoring companion of the road. Thank you for keeping me alive and safe and employed.
You probably don't know how excited I was in early September of 2001 when we first got together. I know you won't understand how important you were in all of my adventures since then. And you will never feel the depth and pain of my regret when we parted company this past Saturday.
I have no misgivings for the time and money I spent to care for you - especially these past few months. But I can no longer depend upon you. You've let me down one too many times.
After 325,500 miles, you served your purpose. If I were a rich man, I could have kept you restored in an immortal glory. Of course, if I were a rich man, your successor would not have been a cheap replacement.
I never understood how anyone could love a 2-ton hunk of metal and plastic and oil. But then you came into my life. Thank you, my dear, inanimate friend, my motoring companion of the road. Thank you for keeping me alive and safe and employed.
Sunday, April 07, 2013
Solving Gardening Problems
These warm days of Spring make you think you can do anything. I thought I would plant a garden. So I started with something easy: runner beans.
Big mistake.
If you don't keep your eye on them, those beans will dash off. Then you have to spend much of the day hunting them down. It doesn't help with noisy neighbors accusing you of bean stalking. I would use a gun to keep my green creations under control, but this town has restrictions on bean shoots.
So now, I have to raised another plant to keep my runner beans in check. I thought about using dog roses, but they're too easily excited by the cat tails. So I'm going with a more domesticate version: the collie flower.
Big mistake.
If you don't keep your eye on them, those beans will dash off. Then you have to spend much of the day hunting them down. It doesn't help with noisy neighbors accusing you of bean stalking. I would use a gun to keep my green creations under control, but this town has restrictions on bean shoots.
So now, I have to raised another plant to keep my runner beans in check. I thought about using dog roses, but they're too easily excited by the cat tails. So I'm going with a more domesticate version: the collie flower.
Friday, March 29, 2013
Electric Car for our Police Force
Our town joined the 21st and a 1/10 century as our police force added to their patrol squad: an electric car. A proud day for us all.
Almost.
I'm not saying that our law enforcement is just a short level up from the Keystone Cops. But I overheard the training session. Our boys-in-blue had a lot of questions upon learning they had to keep the vehicle charged.
Ah yes, technological progress in action. Almost.
.
Almost.
I'm not saying that our law enforcement is just a short level up from the Keystone Cops. But I overheard the training session. Our boys-in-blue had a lot of questions upon learning they had to keep the vehicle charged.
"What crimes do you charge an electric car with? Watt crimes?"
"If we park near a dumpster and the car gets full of flies, can we call in a swat team? Please?"
"Is the car considered green because it hasn't committed any offenses yet? Or, do we have to paint it first?"
"During the charging phase, do you read the car its rights or its warranty? Is it "the right to remain silent" or "the right to remain muffled"?"
"While we try not to get personal, we do run a pretty straight prison here. Shouldn't this AC/DC thingy matter?"
"Pretty Please?! We promise it would be just a small swat team."
"We were told we can "socket it to it". So we don't have to worry about being accused of police brutality then?"
"Do we cram the finger print box with a tread print? If we do that again, can we refer to the vehicle as a retread?"
"Can we pimp-out the car? We considered hanging fuzzy handcuffs from the rear-view mirror. But that might send the wrong message about the police force. Wha'da mean it's too late? Anyway, we're thinking about installing fuzzy dice - the ones that flash when you plug them into the car's cigarette lighter, sorry, power socket. In the event of a crime, should the accessory be charged as an accessory?"
"Are you sure we couldn't call in the swat team? Shocking. No, me, not that precious criminal car."
Ah yes, technological progress in action. Almost.
.
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Unnoticed, in the quiet background of world, I have saved lives.
Each year, a school bus runs over a child who was hidden in the bus's blind spots. Is it possible to prevent these unnecessary deaths and the resulting, burdensome lawsuits upon schools?
To do just that, I helped design a radar system to alert the bus driver about children in the bus's blind zones. That was six years ago. Since then, only a handful of school districts across the country bought and installed this life-saving technology. Even with the blessed benefits of this $1000 piece of hardware, it never quite caught on.
Maybe these tragedies were too infrequent: Given the millions of children riding school buses each year, only 20 to 30 families suffer through this horrific loss of their child. As a result, maybe the school district found it cheaper to pay the insurance claims than to install life-saving electronics.
Still, I have hope. Last week, our system made news in Iowa. All because of one grieving father who - after the death of his son - wanted no one to experience that heart-rendering pain for a beloved child who will never return home from school again.
His story is in the previous link. Here's the news video:
To do just that, I helped design a radar system to alert the bus driver about children in the bus's blind zones. That was six years ago. Since then, only a handful of school districts across the country bought and installed this life-saving technology. Even with the blessed benefits of this $1000 piece of hardware, it never quite caught on.
Maybe these tragedies were too infrequent: Given the millions of children riding school buses each year, only 20 to 30 families suffer through this horrific loss of their child. As a result, maybe the school district found it cheaper to pay the insurance claims than to install life-saving electronics.
Still, I have hope. Last week, our system made news in Iowa. All because of one grieving father who - after the death of his son - wanted no one to experience that heart-rendering pain for a beloved child who will never return home from school again.
His story is in the previous link. Here's the news video:
Saturday, March 23, 2013
Miley Cyrus ... Twerks?
So Yahoo has an article about that upstanding role-model of teens and tweens: Miley Cyrus. This might surprise you but the story didn't cover her Nobel-prize winning work in quantum physics. Probably because the web page would be blank. Yahoo! OMG may play fast-and-loose with their news facts, but even they have their limits.
No, the thrust of the piece (the story, not Ms. Cyrus) was about Miley and her viral twerking video.
In case you're wondering, twerking is a fad dance that started about 7 years ago. It involves shaking your rump violently enough to put out fires in its vicinity. The name comes from combining "twist" with "jerking".
And now that the fad has reached the younger crowd, we have tweens twerking. What is this twisted tworld coming two?
Certainly isn't helping my speech. Or Miley's reputation as a brilliant scientist with earth-shaking discoveries.
Whatever she's doing, booty shaking isn't earth shaking - especially her's.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
How I know Spring Is Here
The heavy rains yesterday drove many a squiggling worms up from inside the earth to the soggy ground. This was followed by chirping and spring's anticipated winged creature: the mosquito.
Friday, March 15, 2013
Ah, Spring time and Love
Ah, the wonders of spring time and l'amour. L'amour, l'amour, l'amour, l'amour, l'amour, l'amour.
You can never have too many l'amours. After all, as they always say: l'amour, la merrier.
You can never have too many l'amours. After all, as they always say: l'amour, la merrier.
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Now that the election results for pope are in:
A friend asked about the colored smoke used during the election of the pope. Here is a quick reference for you:
> Black smoke means the cardinals have not reached a decision.
> White smoke means the cardinals have chosen a pope.
> Red smoke means the cardinals have resumed voting after tossing one of their obnoxious members into the fire.
Anyway, now that the Papal elections over and the smoke has cleared, one billion Catholics are breathing easier. Or at least easier than a pope with one lung.
> Black smoke means the cardinals have not reached a decision.
> White smoke means the cardinals have chosen a pope.
> Red smoke means the cardinals have resumed voting after tossing one of their obnoxious members into the fire.
Anyway, now that the Papal elections over and the smoke has cleared, one billion Catholics are breathing easier. Or at least easier than a pope with one lung.
What's eating you, Mr. Cannibal Cop?
The jury sentenced Gilberto Valle - the cannibal cop - to life in prison. His co-workers weren't surprised. They suspected something when the favorite part of Gilberto's job was grilling suspects.
Friday, March 08, 2013
Total Tuna Recall
Bad news: Bumble Bee is recalling thousands of cans of contaminated tuna.
Good news: The tuna is not contaminated with sea horse meat.
Good news: The tuna is not contaminated with sea horse meat.
Allow me to flash these jokes at you
The hostage situation ended when a group of the captives exploded into song and dance. Instead of using the usual crowd-control grenade to end the siege, police relied on a flash-bang mob.
=========================================
In a separate incident today, police arrested most members of a flash mob performance. Spectators had complained about the lack of clothes under the raincoats worn by the dancers of this popular craze – proving once again the disapproval of flasher mob mania.
You might be able to forgive these attention-seeking performers, provided they don't turn the other cheek.
=========================================
In a separate incident today, police arrested most members of a flash mob performance. Spectators had complained about the lack of clothes under the raincoats worn by the dancers of this popular craze – proving once again the disapproval of flasher mob mania.
You might be able to forgive these attention-seeking performers, provided they don't turn the other cheek.
Saturday, March 02, 2013
How to fish for writing
"Writing is like fishing: You have to go to the river every morning, or you won't catch anything. You can't predict what sort of fish you'll catch, but if you're not there you'll get nothing. Keith Richards said that he couldn't claim credit for writing his songs, only for being awake when they came in."
Eric Idle – "The Greedy Bastard Diary" (2005)
When I go to bed, I promise myself that I will get up a few minutes earlier the next day and write.
Then, morning comes earlier than it should. A few swats of snooze button later and I realize I only have a few minutes to get ready and get to work. So I promise myself that I will take time during lunch and write.
Then, lunchtime arrives while I'm in the midst of some crisis that absolutely, positively must get done or the world will end. I promise myself that when I get home that night, I will take a few minutes and write.
That evening, I arrive home to a house full of hungry inhabitants (including myself who had missed the day's meals). I turn into super chef, feed the hungry horde, become dishwasher extraordinaire, followed by chief financial officer, and finally defender of my homely realm as I tackle snail mail, emails, and voice messages. After all of that, it's time for bed. I promise myself that I will get up a few minutes earlier the next day and write.
The cycle has gone on for several months now. A few times I've succeeded in pounding away at the keyboard. Then I realize it's easier to use my fingers and type. Sometimes, those efforts created words. A couple of times those words came together and made sense.
For the most part, I would have had more success if I had tried to go fishing. In fact, people seem more accepting if you say you're taking a day off to dangle some string in flowing water. But tell them you're going to spend a day writing. They give you an odd look and ask why you're wasting your precious time like that. Bosses suddenly have projects you need to work on. Spouses suddenly have an impending sense of doom about the honey-do list that isn't getting done. Pets suddenly have toenails that need clipped, bladders that must be walked, and poop-boxes that have to be emptied.
The worse part is all of those excuses for not writing that pop up. If excuses were a cross between a fish and a mosquito, every one would get a bite.
And I'd have something for you to read...
Saturday, February 23, 2013
How To Have Better Skin. Step 1 - Don't be a Guy
Do you ladies think that us guys enjoy having the rugged "old man of the sea" look? I assure you that these runaway eyebrows, liver spots, and "grand canyon deep" wrinkles don't make us say, "Man o' Man, I can't wait to get even older!" Yet, why is it that whenever anyone talks about steps for younger looking skin, this discussion is only for women?
For example, ABC.com has a video online for you gals called "Better Skin, Fast and Cheap". Even the phrase "Fast and Cheap" isn't referring to guys.
That being said, they have five recommendations from their contributor, Dr. Loretta Ciraldo. I've added a few notes from a guy's perspective. You can thank me later.
1) "Photograph Your Problem Spots." Personally, I would do this after drinking a bit. I find the ensuing blurry picture takes care of any problem spot. Unless you missed the toilet. But who needs evidence at that point?
2) "Upgrade Your Pillowcase." I knew about upgrading my computer, but my pillowcase? What version are they up to now?
3) "Cut Back on Washing Your Hair." Unless you're referring to the hair on backs and butts, this is a given for bald guys. For those of us who are taller than our hair, we simply spend a longer time washing our face. For women, I wonder if this refers as well to chin hairs - sorry, wayward eyebrows.
4) "If You Must Lather Up, take Precautions." I did not know women needed safety nets and spotters ("You are right there, girl friend!") As for guys: we always take precautions. A good lather always involves pointed at the drain. No need to clean up any more than we have to.
5) "Smile More to Banish Lip Lines." That's right, Ladies! If you need help, just click your heels together and repeat after me: "All of his stuff is mine! All of his stuff is mine! All of his stuff is mine!"
Follow these steps and you should see an improvement in six weeks. If you don't, sandpaper and a gallon of Sears Weatherbeater may be in order. As for me, I'm going to check the version on my pillowcase and replace my mirror.
For example, ABC.com has a video online for you gals called "Better Skin, Fast and Cheap". Even the phrase "Fast and Cheap" isn't referring to guys.
That being said, they have five recommendations from their contributor, Dr. Loretta Ciraldo. I've added a few notes from a guy's perspective. You can thank me later.
1) "Photograph Your Problem Spots." Personally, I would do this after drinking a bit. I find the ensuing blurry picture takes care of any problem spot. Unless you missed the toilet. But who needs evidence at that point?
2) "Upgrade Your Pillowcase." I knew about upgrading my computer, but my pillowcase? What version are they up to now?
3) "Cut Back on Washing Your Hair." Unless you're referring to the hair on backs and butts, this is a given for bald guys. For those of us who are taller than our hair, we simply spend a longer time washing our face. For women, I wonder if this refers as well to chin hairs - sorry, wayward eyebrows.
4) "If You Must Lather Up, take Precautions." I did not know women needed safety nets and spotters ("You are right there, girl friend!") As for guys: we always take precautions. A good lather always involves pointed at the drain. No need to clean up any more than we have to.
5) "Smile More to Banish Lip Lines." That's right, Ladies! If you need help, just click your heels together and repeat after me: "All of his stuff is mine! All of his stuff is mine! All of his stuff is mine!"
Follow these steps and you should see an improvement in six weeks. If you don't, sandpaper and a gallon of Sears Weatherbeater may be in order. As for me, I'm going to check the version on my pillowcase and replace my mirror.
Saturday, February 16, 2013
What happens if you don't pay your bills
Back in 2010, the movie "The Last Exorcism" demonized movie screens across the county. In a couple of weeks, lusting after your theater money is - that's right - another "The Last Exorcism". Apparently, 'last' doesn't mean the same as 'final'.
This 'last' not being THE LAST is enough to make your head spin ... round and around and around. What could this last last movie be about? Maybe someone didn't not make that last payment to their exorcist. Now they have a ding on their credit report and their soul repossessed.
I haven't seen the movie poster. But if it has the tagline: "Once the bank gets your soul, you'll have a devil of a time getting it back", you'll know I'm right.
This 'last' not being THE LAST is enough to make your head spin ... round and around and around. What could this last last movie be about? Maybe someone didn't not make that last payment to their exorcist. Now they have a ding on their credit report and their soul repossessed.
I haven't seen the movie poster. But if it has the tagline: "Once the bank gets your soul, you'll have a devil of a time getting it back", you'll know I'm right.
Friday, February 15, 2013
Massive Meteorite Strike: 1, My Massive Lottery Winnings: 0
Here's link to realtime updates about the meteorite that landed during a quiet, wintery morning in Russia.
"Landed" sounds so peaceful and beneficial. I should write "roared through the sky with a thunderous plunge into Chebarkul Lake. Officials now expect a high-than-normal demand for laundry soap and clean underwear."
Some on the Interweb are complaining about the use of the term "Russian Meteorite". They want news organization to say "the meteor that fell into Russia".
Let's be clear. The meteor did not poke along through the sky, taking it's merry old time to float gently to earth. This 10,000 ton mini-mountain raced through the air like someone with their pants on fire in search of a bucket full of water.
Let's make no mistake: It was a rushin' meteorite.
The news media just can't spell.
"Landed" sounds so peaceful and beneficial. I should write "roared through the sky with a thunderous plunge into Chebarkul Lake. Officials now expect a high-than-normal demand for laundry soap and clean underwear."
Some on the Interweb are complaining about the use of the term "Russian Meteorite". They want news organization to say "the meteor that fell into Russia".
Let's be clear. The meteor did not poke along through the sky, taking it's merry old time to float gently to earth. This 10,000 ton mini-mountain raced through the air like someone with their pants on fire in search of a bucket full of water.
Let's make no mistake: It was a rushin' meteorite.
The news media just can't spell.
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