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Hey Buddy, Gotta Hot Tip?

Michael Leave a comment

“Just pick a name you like.”  That’s sage advice from She of We that spans the sporting world from the NCAA March Madness to the World Series.  Last week we discovered it works at the track also.

Our track is a harness track, not world famous but not completely unknown.  In harness racing, standardbred horses (not thoroughbreds) pull sulkies piloted by drivers (don’t call them jockeys) at either a pace or a trot from a rolling start (not from a gate).  Ours is 5/8 mile track around which a horse paces or trots but hopefully never gallops 1.6 times to make a one mile race.  And most of them finish up faster than 2 minutes.  Not a bad time for a big horse pulling a stripped down cart with a 160 pound driver pulling back on the reins most of the way around to keep the big guy in stride.  If you haven’t seen one, type in “Harness Racing” in some search engine.  There must be plenty of videos out there.

Naturally, where there are horses there will be gambling.  With gambling there will be official programs, unofficial programs, tip sheets, systems, and hunches.  But we had something else.  We had a former owner with us.

We should explain that we in this instance were more than just He and She of We.  We also had both Sons of She, Daughter and Guest of He, Sisters of He, Friends of Sons of She, all gathered to commemorate the anniversary of the birth of Son Number One of She who had selected this very venue as his celebration site.  We all sat at the rail just a foot or two beyond the finish line at the noted son’s preference, with balloons and cake and gifts, certainly a first for us at the track if not a first for the track. If we had big hats and string ties we’d have been the envy of those most recently at Louisville and Baltimore.  But we digress.

Among Those of We was Former Owner who had trained and run horses at this very track.  It was like having the ultimate insider among us.  One who understood those bizarre program abbreviations.  One who could look at a horse and tell who would be likely to break stride.  One who knew the drivers (don’t call them jockeys), and when the favorites were too much of a favorite to spend $2.  We were in the money.  Yeah, right.

Number One Son of She had never been to a race track and never bet on a horse.  But he jumped right in, studied the program, pondered his wagers, and thoughtfully bet each race.  We’re not really sure exactly how well he did or didn’t do but he ended the night with a big smile so we figure he probably broke even and at least had fun.  Daughter of He and her guest sat and watched and waited and waited and watched and waited until the one race he apparently was waiting for while watching.  He played his sole bet of the night, a straight exacta based on something he never revealed.  He also never revealed how much he bet for that race but unfortunately it equaled how much he lost for the night.  Number Two Son of She was the big winner pulling in over $200 on a large purse trifecta.  Of course that was the race when he returned to the table from the betting window and compared his ticket with his notes he exclaimed that he picked the wrong horse and was there time to go make another bet just as the track announcer announced, “and they’re off and pacing.”

He and She of We had the perfect system.  She would pick a horse, he would bet on her selection.  Using Former Owner’s keen interventions combined with a keen sense of matching horses’ names to former vacation places we managed to break even for the evening.  When the companion of one of the Friends of Sons of She asked how she picked her horses, She of We spared her of all the technical jargon Former Owner used.  “Pick whatever you want.  Find a name you like, a driver you like (don’t call them jockeys), or the horse’s color you like and stick with that.”

Well, that’s when the lady sitting at the table next to us couldn’t take it anymore.  “You might as well just give them your money,” she huffed.  As the evening wore on we overheard her explain her system to her companion.  “Bet on every horse in the race and you’ll be sure to hit the winner.”

Why didn’t we think of that?  Well, the math works out that one would spend about $300 to win about $20.  Personally, we like Number Two Son of She’s system.  Pick the wrong horse in your highest wager of the night.  It works every time.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

 

Everybody, Hit the Road! Oh, Look. They Already Have.

Michael Leave a comment

You know we don’t just pull stuff from the Internet and repeat it.  We’re always looking for the reason, the story, the lesson.  Well, ummm, this one from the Associated Press has none of that.  But it sure is fun to read.

A New Mexico man faces multiple charges after police say he was having sex with a woman while driving drunk and crashed, ejecting the woman from the vehicle.
The Albuquerque Journal reports the 25-year-old man was found with one shoe on and his shorts on inside-out Monday night after he wrecked his Ford Explorer in Albuquerque.
Police say his female passenger was found naked outside the SUV after being ejected. She had deep cuts to her face and head.
Authorities allege he tried to drive away after the crash and leave his passenger behind, but a witness grabbed his keys from the ignition. He also allegedly tried to hide from responding officers behind a cactus.

So tell us, what have we learned from this?

When trying to get it on while on the road, be sure to get your underwear on correctly.

Female passengers should always keep at least a light sweater for those unexpected airborne moments.  A crash helmet may also come in handy.

Check with “What Not to Wear” before going out with only one shoe.  It could be suitable for certain events and may beef up an otherwise questionable alibi.

It’s bad manners to leave your date on the side of the road.

But, just because there are lessons to be learned from this experience doesn’t mean that they have been.  We move from New Mexico to Florida to review the new definition of auto-erotica reported by the Sarasota Herald Tribune::

Two individuals were charged with misdemeanors after a police officer reportedly caught them having sex in a moving car.
The officer spotted a blue Hyundai driving erratically on Hyde Park Street on Thursday and turned on his emergency lights to see if the driver needed help.
The car suddenly pulled across the road and came to a stop. When the officer went to the driver’s door, the couple quickly tried to pull up their pants.
They had been sitting together in the driver’s seat and “it became obvious that they had been engaged in sexual intercourse,” the officer wrote in an arrest report.

When will they learn?  Our search revealed at least a half-dozen other recent reports of driving while under a completely different influence.  When will they learn is probably never.  What will they learn?  Keep a light sweater handy and don’t hide behind the cactus!

Now, that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

Public Displays of Affection

Michael Leave a comment

These were spotted on TV, newspapers, magazines, or the Internet over the past week. We would just like to stop and take a moment to give a round of applause to those folks we’ve listed below for facing all that life has to hand out and managing it with grace and dignity. If She of We could she would give each of them the small box that when opened lets you hear an audience clapping.  

  • A young boy hugging his neighbor because he was the first familiar face he saw after a tornado ripped through his neighborhood. 
  • Re-enactors travelling across the country on The National Road in horse drawn covered wagons.
  •  A family smiling around a storm shelter entrance. 
  • An honor guard member handing the folded flag to a new widow. 
  • A couple meeting on a street corner at the end of the work day greeting each other with a kiss. 
  • A woman comforting her brother’s children while sitting in front of their burning home.
  • An Air Force General pinning a Bronze Star on an airman next to his Purple Heart.
  • Volunteers caring for lost pets at an emergency animal shelter in Oklahoma.

They are true public displays of affection.  We used to call it doing the right thing. Whatever you call it, we like it. And we like these who find themselves not just doing the right thing, but making everyone around them feel better than if they weren’t there, no matter if the circumstance is happy or sad.

You can add to the list.  Take a moment and look around.  If you see someone doing the right thing, clap those hands and try doing something completely unselfish for somebody.  Somebody else might be clapping for you.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

 

Don’t Pick in Public!

Michael Leave a comment

Its’ ok to do it, but don’t pick it in public where other people can see you.  No, we don’t mean your nose.  If you want to pick your…. But we digress.

We know it’s ok, there’s even a television reality show about it.  Picking.  Picking stuff. Picking what’s basically other people’s cast-aways.  Do you pick?

We had this discussion the other day.  Is picking, um, too picky for some?  There are different degrees of picking.  The most basic picking is cruising the neighborhood the night before garbage day and picking your pick of the good stuff.  We’ve probably all seen this, often with our own stuff.  He of We has had chairs, a recliner, even an electric stove picked from his driveway before the garbage team had a chance to wrestle them into the back of the truck.  Some things disappear the moment they hit the curb (bar stools, stained cushions, dated finish, still serviceable), some things sat for days mostly because the garbage guys couldn’t lift it into the truck and He of We didn’t want it back in the house (faux NordicTrak skiing exercise machine, like new).

This would make He of We the pickee and has no problem with others picking about his stuff, that is his discarded stuff.  She of We is theoretically fine with being a pickee or a picker, although there has not been a midnight drive through suburbia on Garbage Eve, hence the theoretical.

If you stop to think about it, not many people should be anti-picking.  Particularly today in the land of reuse, recycling, or repurpose we should preserve as much as we can.  Neither of us grew up with silver spoons nearby and both were used to hand-me-overs from relatives and neighbors.  When our families were done with the whatevers, they took another turn about.  It was picking without the pick-up truck.

Today’s picking doesn’t have to be a clandestine canvass ‘round the cul-de-sac.  There are legitimate picking outlets.  The web-site of the aforementioned television show notwithstanding, you can pick in heated or air-conditioned comfort, depending on your location and calendar.  We know them as rummage sales, flea markets, thrift stores, and (minus the air-conditioning) garage sales.  There are even stores that do big business recycling architectural and building supplies.

Is it ok to do it?  And that reminds us, have you ever been stopped for a long time at a red light and looked around at some of the other nearby drivers.  Does it look to you too like some of them just got caught with their fingers up………. But we digress again.

So is it ok to do it?  It would be un-American not to!  Go ahead and pick that up and get your lesson in today’s 3 R’s – reuse, recycle or repurpose.  Now, for those who are really serious, He of We has a couple more exercise machines around the house.  Like new.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

 

And the winning irritant is…

Michael Leave a comment

A while ago we were listening to the morning radio show on the way to work and they were reading from a survey of things people dislike.  And then they added their own.  We have to say this was a pretty inclusive list and it held some new dislikes.  Gone is the old, I don’t like clowns, I don’t like lines, I don’t like taxes.  Today’s dislikes are not your average pet peeves.

So what are some of the things people don’t like?  Some of them are related to new technology.  One of the new dislikes is that little animation that every network puts on the lower corner of the screen during its television shows.  You know that ones.  Something that’s coming up next or maybe next week.  It starts as a blurb or maybe a blotch.  It grows to a fuzzy representation of whatever or whoever the show is about.  The it grows to encompass the bottom third of the current broadcast, rendering most of the action – and all of the closed captioning if set to “bottom” – invisible.  The characters dance, chat, and otherwise interact all on top of the current show.  Then it retreats to the corner, disappears, and lies in wait until the next show segment.  We hate those too.

Another technological irk is the rash of new-fangled pop-ups on computer pages.  No longer is the cyber advertising world happy with springing a new window open over the one you are reading.  It’s much too easy to click a tab and get back to your screen without much fuss.  Now we have pop ups slide across a page or scroll down the display right along with you. 

She of We is particularly un-fond of a most annoying type of pop up that looks like a page of a newspaper folding over the current display.  We have a local newspaper that is particularly fond of that one.  Did you ever try to find the little “X” to click to close one of those things?  Devilish they are.

Some semi-high tech things that nobody is wild about are crawls on television screens, the fine print voice on radio ads for drugs or mortgages, and cell phones screens that you can’t see in bright light.  

There are also some things that people do that many others don’t care for.  Nobody likes the person who speeds down the highway, changing lanes every other car, and does it within inches of other cars.  And nobody likes to be behind the person at the express checkout lane with a shopping cart full of items.  Nobody likes slow pizza delivery, cold pizza delivery, or crushed pizza delivery.  Not even pizza delivery people.

What does He of We not like?  Wet newspapers.  Somebody has to be low tech. 

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

 

Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire!

Michael Leave a comment

We were driving down a country-ish road when jogging on the shoulder toward us was this woman, her legs striding, arms pumping, head bobbing, and face frowning.  It was not a look of determination, nor was it one of concentration.  It was one of displeasure.  It was one that said “I am two miles from home in any direction and I want to be there, not here.”  What we knew, from knowing others who jog along the shoulder of country-ish roads, is that when she gets home there will be a husband, a parent, a partner, a child, or maybe a cat or dog who will very innocently ask , “How as your run?”  And then the lies will begin!

It was fine. I had a great run.  It was the perfect morning to get an extra mile in.  And the check’s in the mail, too.  Truth be told, there are some instances that we know have never had the truth be told of them.   Early morning joggers are amateurs when it comes to the really smooth lies.

Whether it’s taking a little blood out for a blood test, a lot of it out at a blood drive, or getting an annual flu shot, “You’ll just feel a little pinch,” is not exactly truthful for any of them.  We are both blood donors.  We’ve both had flu shots.  And we’re ready to tell anybody who comes that close to us with those sharp objects that we know we’re going to feel more than a little pinch.  Save the lies, tell it like it is.  This is going to hurt but just for a little while and once that goes away you’ll feel much better for it.

Every day millions of people ask another millions of people how they are.   We’re not sure why because we know that an answer is neither required nor expected.  If so, no one would ask “Hey, how are you?” of someone who is getting on the elevator one just got off.  Yet it happens.  The appropriate answer to that question at that time should be “buy high, sell low” just to see if anyone is actually listening.  Quite often, then and at the millions of other times when the inquirer can actually hear the answer, the answer is “Oh just fine, thank you.”  You know you aren’t.  No one is ever just fine.  Ever. 

Whether we’re asking or are being ask, almost always “Do you want help with that?” is followed by “Whew!” when the answer comes back or goes out as no thanks.  Nobody ever really wants to help, at least not with physical assistance.   Maybe if the help needed is of the mental type we’d all be helpers and then when someone asks why we’re just sitting there we can answer with another collective lie, “Yes so, I am working.” 

Just a little bit longer.  No, that’s not a commentary on this post, although here it is truthful.  Most other times that one hears those words it is going to be longer but not by a little bit.  We hear this when waiting for a table at a restaurant, for a meeting with the boss, for a refund check coming in the mail, for the doctor to take his or her turn with us, or for an opponent to finish a Scrabble move.  The funny thing is that everybody on the delivery end of “a little bit longer” knows exactly how much longer it will be.  Why not tell us.  We suppose either they aren’t confident that we find their services worth waiting for or that their services aren’t worth waiting for.

It used to be a little more sensible when business was conducted by letters, phones, and secretaries.  Now to tell someone you never got the message, meeting reminder, or new project deadline in the time of email and shared electronic calendars is a bit far-fetched.  Yet not so far-fetched that by personal experience we can say that just about every time a meeting is missed, a deadline goes by, or a message is ignored, the guilty party still tries to claim ignorance.  “Must be something wrong with the server,” is the new “the check is in the mail”

Can you think of any others?  We’d love to hear them!  Ummm, errrr, let’s do lunch.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

The old man and the see if we can get him to pick up a fake hooker

Michael Leave a comment

“An 86-year-old widower on his way to pick up a headstone for his late wife’s grave was cited today for soliciting a prostitute.  Dayton police had a decoy out today in an ongoing effort to get johns off the streets, according to officials.  The man told police he was lonely, and that’s why he was looking for a prostitute. He was cited, but not arrested because police said they were worried about his age and the man’s depression.”  [whiotv.com-12:49 p.m. Thursday, May 2, 2013]

We would tell you more but that was all there was of the story.  There should be more!  It begs for more.

  • What kind of decoy does one use to entice an 86 year old to attempt to pick up the lady and presumably offer money for sex?
  • How long has the wife been gone?  Was this a newly needed headstone or one he had to save over many years to purchase?
  • Why was the man depressed?  Was he depressed because he was caught?  Because he misses his late wife?  Because when he found out just how much a happy ending cost nowadays, he realized he’d hadn’t yet saved enough for the headstone?
  • How did the decoy and her handler decide to target an 86 year old?  Was it close to the end of the shift and they hadn’t scored as well as they planned and said “screw it, he’s still a man; go shake your wahoo at his winkie and see what comes of it?”

Last year we proposed that by the time a he or she gets to be in his or her eighties that he or she is due whatever is gettable in exchange for a lifetime of putting up with the world. (See “Entitlement Programs,” March 29, 2012).  If an 86 year old wants to pick up a hooker his only concern should be that of his missus, dead or alive.  He shouldn’t have to worry that it’s a hooker cop.

It took some digging but we eventually found out that the man had only recently lost his wife of 55 years and his daughter as well.  When the decoy approached him he offered her a few dollars to sit and talk with him.  Apparently talk was all he has left since the cancer that he suffers doesn’t allow for sexual activity.

We said back then that today’s eighty-somethings have done it all with more class than their elders did because they had to, and with more class than their youngers will because they can.   You just can’t find a no-class 86 year old.  Why did someone in a position of authority have to try to out-class a lonely old man.  Maybe those police should have followed the example of Andy Taylor of Mayberry and makes themselves available to serve however is needed.

The real Andy Griffith said, “I firmly believe that in every situation, no matter how difficult, God extends grace greater than the hardship.”  Sometimes it takes someone down here to be the vessel of that grace.  Maybe that’s why some of the better ones get to hang around for 80-plus years.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

Blame It On The Blinds

Michael Leave a comment

You’ve heard us say it before, weekends are special for us.  Since we don’t have scheduled days off Monday through Friday, we pack a lot into the other 29% of the week.  Sometimes, we don’t start packing until well after we intended to.  Now we have something to blame our late awakenings on.

Some time ago, He of We decided he needed new curtains in his bedroom.  It just didn’t seem to right to get new drapery without changing the other pieces.  So now there are new curtains, new rod, new tiebacks, and the piece most culpable for us losing several hours every weekend, a new blind.  Whether roll-up, push-up, mini, or vertical, blinds are the key to sleep duration.  When He of We selected his new blind it was of the room darkening variety.  And a killer room darkener it is.  Tight to the sides and top of the frame and to the sill on the bottom, there are some 1700 square inches of ‘hold back the light we’re sleeping late this morning’ between him and Mr. Sun.

This is the same set-up on the window during the other days of the week that don’t interfere with bounding out of bed, doing all those morning get ready for work things, and aiming the four-wheeled vehicle down the road.  All before 8am.  But on the weekend, it’s a different story.

On a typical Saturday morning, about 11:00 or 11:30, He of We will call She of We to set the agenda for the day.  Over the course of conversation, someone will ask what progress has made on the mental lists they drafted the night before.  When it’s time for He of We to recount his morning, “Um, I made myself breakfast,” is the unfortunate all too common response.  Why the failure to perform any useful task with less than an hour before the crack of noon.  Now we know why.  Blame it on the blinds!

This can be the remarkable new defense for anybody faced with an unmet deadline, an unfinished task, or a not yet started chore.  Find an inanimate object and shift that blame!  Didn’t get the grass done?  The gas tank was empty.  Term paper not started?  Can’t type with a bandage wrapped around a finger.  Still haven’t started that new exercise routine?  Traffic lights between home and gym were all red.  Every day.

So there you have it.  The world’s permission to overlook, neglect, ignore, or just plain forget stuff.  Just don’t do it with anything important.  It might be a dandy excuse but you still have to hug your special someone, smile at least once a day, and always say “I love you.”  But the next time you miss your tee time, or your tea time, go ahead and blame it on the blinds.

Now, that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

Shopping Without a List

Michael Leave a comment

It’s a Friday evening and we have to decide what to do with the weekend.  It’s not like we’re ever devoid of activity on the weekend.  We’re never devoid of activity on the weekend.  We’re never devoid on the weekend.  That’s the problem with our weekends.

We don’t live together and we both work full weeks during the week.  We know some lucky pups who work 10 or 12 hour days and get an extra day off every seven.  We don’t.  If we want to see each other on a day that doesn’t start with “S” we make a date.  Otherwise, it’s weekends are us.

Since we both run full households we need stuff.  Thus most weekends include shopping.  And shopping means multiple stores. We could probably do everything in a Walmart.  We understand most people can do everything in a WalMart.  In fact, we seem to recall a movie about doing everything in a Walmart.  But, believe it or not, our immediate environs are WalMart free.  And we wouldn’t have the discipline to do all day in a Walmart.  She of We once had an experience so bad at a WalMart tire center that we couldn’t even write about it.  He of We is convinced that local saboteurs scuttled the plans for a WalMart some 3 miles from his house and he worries every time he gets too close to one that landslides will bury him not unlike Vesuvius buried Pompeii.   So instead we go from store to store knowing the stops with the best buys on staples and the chances for better deals on surprises.

As we enter each store He of We asks the same question.  “Do we need a cart?”  Sometimes he gets an answer.  Sometimes he gets just a look.  Each time he pulls a cart from the line of them inside the entrance door.  We don’t shop with a list.  We shop with a purpose.  Although just different enough to be almost annoying, we each have a pattern of how to attack a store.  She of We does the up and down from right to left with the side spurs covered only if there is a known needed item or a clearance rack before getting to the end.  He of We moves in about the same manner except that every third or fourth aisle he gets distracted by shiny objects from a row over and detours toward it, usually pushing the cart leaving She of We to wait wherever he left her at the time.

Sometimes we stop and take note of what we’ve put into our cart.  Often we’ll think twice about an item or two and return it to its former shelf sitting space.  Usually these were the shiny objects previously mentioned.  Sometimes we get all the way to the checkout line and decide we’ve much more shopping to do and head back into the stacks.  Always, before we check out we prepare ourselves for the payment experience.

You’ll recall, we don’t live together.  Everything in that cart has to be delegated to an address.  He moves to the front of the cart, always goes first, pulling his shoppers card from the quick release clip on his key ring.  He offloads his items from the basket, from the child seat, from below, sometimes hanging off the side if it might be a shovel or shepherd’s hook.  While that is going on, She of We prepares herself and pulls her card from her purse. Noticing that He of We has completed his transaction she hands her items over to him and onto the counter they go.  As the cart empties of yet to be scanned purchases, bags of already paid for pieces replace them.  Slowly She, He, and the Cart of We move forward through the check-out lane until She of We’s purchases are totaled and she runs her debit card through the scanner.

A quick run to the car where the cart is unloaded in the rear of the vehicle of the week and it’s off to store number next. Yep, we shop with a purpose.

We really need a new past time.

Now, that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

Accessories For Your Accessories

Michael Leave a comment

Everybody with a cell phone, please raise your hand. If you have a case or holster for it, keep your hand up.  A blue tooth or earbud/mic combo, please continue holding your hand up.  If you have more than one charger as in house and car or house and office, please keep your hand raised.  Continue to hold your hand up if you have removable chip, stick, or minidisk for data and pictures.  And lastly, if you have a car mount, keep your hand up.  Is your hand still up?  Congratulations, you have fallen victim to the accessory demons.  It’s ok, we have also.

We first found the accessory demon in the Sunday advertising supplement some months ago.  It wasn’t enough to have a tablet or iPad or reader, with or without a nice protective case and ear phones to listen while you read or write or sort pictures.  Nope, that was when we saw, and even on sale, the iPad pillow.  Yes, it is possible now to read or write or sort pictures with or without listening to music while not having to hold said device.  Plop tablet in pillow, plop person on couch, plop pillow on lap, now veg.  In hands-free comfort – except for the touch screen sweepy finger.

The device demon does not live just in the electronics department.  All those with a barbeque grill, please stand up.  If you have a thermometer, a grill light, a three sided grill brush, an electric starter for gas or charcoal, a chimney starter (charcoal only please), an aftermarket rotisserie, a smoker box, or a fish, vegetable, corn on the cob, hot dog, chicken or pizza specialty holder, please remain  standing.  We thought so.

Are there any campers out there?  We recently saw a tent advertised featuring 2 rooms, sleeps eight, and two rear closets, available for the low, low price of $179.99. (Neither of We’s bedrooms has two closets!)  On the same page or following pages we saw the air mattresses, pillows, camp stoves, lanterns, mesh chairs, folding tables, coolers, and canopies that, for only 2 people, added up to another $410.  Apparently getting away from it all is cheap.  Getting away fully accessorized isn’t.

Someone out there in the world of long ago, when the book was first invented, said to him or herself, “Self, I think I’ll invent the book mark.”  That marketing master’s descendants have never given in.  With each invention comes the accessory.  The best of them invent the “can’t live without” accessory.  Many have thought they could beat the accessory demon by not accessorizing their accessories.  They would put their phones on a nearby table when not in use and hold them in their hands to the side of their face when using it.  That they would gauge the heat of the charcoal by holding an open palm six inches above it and the doneness of the burger by touch.  That they would camp under the stars on a bed of pine needles.  Yeah, right!

The only way to beat them is to give up our phones and tablets and grills and tents and everything else we can’t live without.  Once you figure out how to do that be sure to write about it.  We’ll read your report on our tablet, the one in the protective case, with the detachable keyboard and snap on night light, the one over there on the table next to the MP3 player we’re downloading music onto. Uh huh.

Now, that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you?

Did we mention the bell, basket, lights, and speedometer for the bicycle? The over-shower organizer, tissue holder, shower gel dispenser, or talking scale for the bathroom? The steamer for the closet? The four-way lug wrench for the car? Wait, we’re not done! How about the electric coskscrew? The power juicer? The Clapper!? Ok, we’re done.