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Testing, Testing, 1,2,3

Michael Leave a comment

SAT reading scores are at their lowest in forty years.  In our state, standardized tests were first reported to be so low that more schools did not meet minimum standards set by the Department of Education than those that did.  A few weeks after that report was released we were told things weren’t that dire; whoever wrote the report reversed the math and reading scores.  In fact, there were just as many schools that met the standards as there were those that did not. 

If it only stopped there.  Another few weeks had gone by and then there was a cheating scandal that broke out.  Apparently teachers were taking tests for students who did not show up in an effort to raise the average.  We’re not certain which is more pathetic – that the teachers only raised the odds to 50/50 to meet standards or that teachers could only raise the average to 50%.

The general feeling is that high schoolers don’t want to, or don’t feel they have to take tests.  But once beyond high school, once into the realm of those going to school because they want to rather than have to, once dealing with people who have an investment in their education and in their futures, disappointing results will be rare.  She of We works with a woman whose father, now into his eighties, still teaches conversational French to the residents at the care facility where he is also a resident.  He often commented that he would have preferred to teach at college where the students wanted to learn rather than at high school where the students wanted to meet their minimum requirements so they could play football. 

The disappointing results are not restricted to high schools.   Just this week there was a report that several local schools of nursing are in jeopardy because less than 80% of their graduates, the minimum required to maintain the school’s certification, could pass the nursing licensure exam. 

While all this is going on, money is pouring into the schools.  Even with the recent cuts to education seen across America there are billions being passed through from the federal government.  Over $160 billion has been spent by the federal government on K-12 education over the past 45 years.  That averages over $3.5 billion per year.  Last year Washington sent $25 billion to school.

And yet even at this amount of plus what the states and local districts put into their own education we are not educating.  Are the tests to blame?  Are we really turning out Einsteins at record paces but nobody knows because the kids can’t take standardized tests.  Who hasn’t, or hadn’t, heard someone say “I know the material, I just can’t take tests.”  You never hear someone who scored well on his or her SAT say, “I don’t know jack but I know how to pick from a list of multiple choices.” 

No, we’re certain that if you know the material you know the material no matter how somebody asks you the questions.  It’s time those who are teaching do.  If there are cuts to be made let’s eliminate some of the administrative staff.  Do we need three assistant principals, two secretaries for each, and a prefect of discipline at the elementary K-3 building?  Don’t cut the education programs.  We need arts as well as sciences.  We needed PE as much as we need Math.  And maybe a class or two on how to take tests.  Life is full of them.

Besides, if we had to come up with a different way of measuring competency than through testing, we could end up grading student nurses on, well, on nursing.  Stick out your tongue and say cheese.

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

We’re On Vacation, Part 3

Michael 1 Comment

You’ll recall in our last Vacation installment we didn’t turn down the free excursion.  Never turn down the free excursion.  We could have turned down the free excursion.

We were on the island of Puerto Rico, home of, among other famous things, Bacardi Rum. For our excursion we selected one that included a tour of the Bacardi factory.  He of We had been to the island many years before and had the opportunity then to tour the distiller’s plant.  He more than once tried to describe to She of We the ever present scent of molasses, a result of distilling sugar cane on its way to becoming rum, throughout the building.

So early one morning instead of deciding between pool and beach we assembled with 2 other couples, climbed into a surprisingly comfortable van where we were the charge of a very enjoyable tour guide and driver.  He regaled us with stories of real life on the island, his life.  We saw his home town, heard tales of his family, were told of his wife’s cooking, saw his favorite beach.  It was a most enjoyable and revealing 90 minutes that passed more quickly than it had to.  A stop here, a photo op there, and before we knew it, we were pulling into the parking lot outside the Bacardi welcome center.  A complimentary rum punch, then the tour, a quick dash through the gift shop, another hit of the free punch and then on to the day’s next destination.  This was going to be great!  

After our first free drink we climbed into one those trams that you never see anywhere but at some tour.  We drove across the compound and were let off at a recreation of a Spanish influenced Caribbean courtyard.  A few minutes for more pictures and then the guide was with us.  He spent some time explaining the company origin, how it came to the island, and how they make the rum there.  And then, it was really time.  We knew so because we were told once we go through that door there will be no more pictures.  And then we went through that door.  And got to watch a movie.

That was it.  A movie.  After that we saw a replica of the first factory and then we got to smell some rum, learned how to make a couple of cocktails and that concluded the tour.

What a letdown.  Years ago the tour went through the factory, the real factory.  And years ago we actually got to see how Hershey’s made chocolate, Busch made beer, and Heinz made ketchup.  Today those iconic factories are off limits to tour groups but tours continue with the help of movies, animations, and gift shops.  Why no more real tours?  They were fun, they were educational, they made us feel like part of a select group.  We weren’t going to steal company secrets or complain if we got squirted by sugar cane juice. 

We miss factory tours.  But we relished the deals we found at the company stores.  And the drive to that one on that day was pretty good.   On second thought, we were right the first time.   

Never turn down the free excursion.

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

For more of our vacation, see We’re On Vacation, Part 1 and Part 2

 

 

Murder is Insulting

Michael Leave a comment

Muslims are insulted by the anti-Islamic film that an ex-con, anti-Islamic extremist produced and posted clips of to YouTube.  To demonstrate their chagrin they felt justified in burning down the American embassy in Libya and killing the American ambassador there.  Americans in 20 countries in the Middle East and elsewhere where Islam is practiced have been victims of abusive attacks over the past week.

There have already been hundreds of thousands of words published condemning the killings and these other aggressive acts.  Our few hundred words here won’t add any clarity to what is a mounting sentiment to use any excuse to attack and kill Americans.  So we won’t decry the Muslims’ retaliatory actions.  God will see they don’t get their 700 virgins or their entry to paradise or their first taste of a hamburger or whatever they think will be their reward for killing Americans even though it was one of their own who smeared Mohammed then ran and hid behind our First Amendment.

No, what we are going to say is what parents throughout America should be telling their children when they do something terribly, horribly wrong.  You’re going to bed without your dinner.  Let us explain.  The United Sates directly provides over 40% of the food bought and sold in the Middle East.  When considering re-exports of American goods by other countries to this area, over 90% of their food comes from the United States.  Other than Iran and Sudan, the United Sates has no restrictions against exporting to Middle East or North African countries.  Yet these are the very countries where Americans are being attacked because the populace perceives that the USA insulted them through an amateurish film posted on an Internet site where anybody can upload video files.  Well, we’re insulted also. 

If there is not enough outrage in our leaders to send in whatever troops are necessary to neutralize those who are killing Americans, then send in whatever troops are necessary to destroy what food stores are present in those countries.  Then there should be embargos instituted against them and against all other countries that allow re-export to these American haters.  After a few months of having nothing to eat maybe they will understand our outrage when we open our morning papers and find out that one of our ambassadors was murdered because somebody’s feelings were hurt.

If someday there should be a very large contingent of apologetic, hungry people in Egypt, Libya, Indonesia, Afghanistan, or any other part of the world where ‘Death to America’ is scrawled on the sides of what used to be American consulates and embassies, perhaps our answer should be “Gosh, we’re sorry.  We were insulted and since you set the appropriate retaliation for insults at murder we figured it was time to play by your rules.  Too bad.   Go to bed without your dinner.”

And to those bleeding hearts here in our country who feel bad for the poor little fire starters, feel free to join them living in dirt, filth, and squalor.  Maybe while you’re busy badmouthing us, they’ll be happy for the chance to burn you alive too.

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

The Next Hundred

Michael Leave a comment

Last week we published our 100th post.  It might not seem like a lot to you who are daily posters nor to you who post every day for a while then break for travel or to try out some recipes or take some fabulous pictures then post what you’ve discovered for another constant while.  And to you we say that’s great and we’ve enjoyed many of your contributions.

But for us the first hundred was a road barely travelled at all.  Last November we posted our first blog and promised to always keep our blog real, exploring the real reality that reality shows shy from.  And we planned exploring at least twice a week and we’ve never posted less. 

Our blog, like reality, is a little funny and a little serious.  It’s a little rambling and a little ranting.  We’ve come up with some pretty good observations and some pretty good ideas.  We like what we’ve done and we plan on keeping it up.

Somebody has probably read all of our posts.  We know at least two who have.     🙂     And we’ve decided there are some that deserve a second read just because.

Because they made us smile like “How Would You Like Your Toast?”  Or because they made us think like “Star Polisher.”  Some celebrate famous people who added to who we are as in “Bon Appetite” and some celebrate people famous only to us who we’ve added to who they are as in “Family Ties.”  We like the ones that worried about why things are so pricey like in “Paper or Plastic” and we like the ones that marveled at why things can be priceless like in “You Get What You Pay For.”  Sometimes we talked about big trips like “We’re On Vacation, Parts 1 and 2” and other times we talked about weekend drives like “Just Stuff.”  Sometimes we really did rant like we did in “The Agony of Defeatism,” and other times we reminisced like we did with “The Love Boat That Wasn’t.”  We’ve even expressed our opinion of those television reality shows in “Unreal” and our opinion of some real show stoppers in “That Play’s The Thing, That Thing They Do.”

If we were going to pick a “best of” list we wouldn’t be able to.  Yes, we liked them all but more than that, we liked what they all said about us.  You can really get to know us by reading us.  We always tried to be polite but we always kept it real.  Everything we’ve written actually happened.  It really has been our reality for the past year.  If there is a “best of” list it would have to be the first 100 posts.

If we were you, we’d go back and read them again.  The next hundred are coming soon.  Reality is still what we have to work with so we will.  Work with it.  Really.

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

 

What’s a Covet?

Michael Leave a comment

My there are certainly a lot of them.  So many you’d swear (or affirm) that they are even somewhat religious in their beliefs.  Of whom are we speaking?  The atheists.   And they’re at it again.

A school district in Pennsylvania has a monument outside the doors of its Junior High School that someone supposed violated the tenant of the separation of church and state.  You’ll recall we debated where that separation is specified in our Constitution, Bill of Rights, later amendments, or earlier Declarations and couldn’t find it anywhere.  (See We Hold These Truths (Jan. 13,2012) and Liberty and Justice for All (March 26, 2012).)  Obviously the people who are threatening lawsuits didn’t read our posts.  Neither did the school district because they are planning to comply with the requests to remove the four foot tall work that has been guarding the school doors since 1957.

A judge in Virginia must has thought he possessed the wisdom of Solomon when he came up with the bright idea of removing the first four commandments since they are the ones that are most religious.  This came up while trying to negotiate a settlement between a Giles County school district and the ACLU.  It seems the CLU claimed that their Americans were miffed over the district having the 4 + 6 Commandments in a hallway where a picture of them was posted for a year and a half as part of a display of American government and morality.  We certainly don’t want to mistake those two for each other.

Back North, another Pennsylvania school district that has a plaque of the Ten Commandments at the entrance to its high school has also been threatened with a law suit if it doesn’t remove the material within 10 days of the threat’s delivery date.  The school board president said they have to wait to construct a response regarding the fate of the monument that has stood since 1955 until a meeting with the district’s attorneys later this month.

Unfortunately we can’t say this is anything new.  It was in 2003 when workers removed 800 pound granite tablets listing the Ten Commandments (Moses would have had a hard time with those himself) from 4 schools in a suburban Cincinnati school district.

We say let it go.  Clearly we don’t need them anymore.  They are as obsolete as killing, stealing, patricide or matricide, adultery, and wholesale deceit including perjury.  You can tell by the way these offensives as almost never ever committed anymore.  Coveting is so obsolete the average high schooler probably doesn’t even know what it means and it almost never shows up in spelling bees.  But the aetheists still have some work to do because we have firm proof that there are some people who still won’t work on Sunday. 

At least they won’t until after the Super Bowl.

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

 

We’re on Vacation, Part 2

Michael 1 Comment

We stepped out of the shuttle in front of our hotel and drank in the tropics.  It was our first real vacation in years.  No meetings, no computers, no cell phones with the office set on one touch dialing.  A vacation!  Eight days in paradise.

We checked in and gazed out the 3 story high picture windows that framed the beach, and beyond that, the ocean.  Postcards fight over that scene.  That’s when the nice gentleman came over and asked if we had just arrived.  After establishing we had, he invited us to breakfast the following morning and in exchange for an hour of our time we could select an excursion of our choice during our stay.  Ah, the pitch.  Well, we’d been to time share sales pitches before and it seemed an innocuous way to get us up early on our first full day when we figured our biggest decision would be pool or beach.

The following morning we were up and met our hostess at our appointed time.  During a little chit chat before the hard sell commenced we discovered that this day was among her first days on the job.  So new was she that during the presentation she continuously referred to her lap where her script resided.  It was difficult to take someone speaking to her lap seriouslyas she tried to convince us to part with $20,000 on a lifetime of dream vacations.

We answered her questions between bites of powdered egg, heard of the benefits of the hotel chain’s “vacation club” sipping on cold coffee and tea, and expressed our reluctance over frozen concentrated orange juice.  “Thank you but we don’t think we travel enough to take advantage of such an expensive program.”

If we had only left it at that.  What exactly didn’t we like about paying the equivalent of a compact car at an interest rate that was illegal not too many years ago for an unspecified number of “points” that could be traded in for an unspecified amount of time at an unspecified location?  “Well, I think a big issue,” He of We began, “is not knowing exactly what we’re buying.”

If we had only left it at that, again.  “I understand.  It’s an investment.  Let me get my manager and he can explain it better.”  And off our hostess went in search of — da, da, da dum — The Manager.  We should have snuck out. 

“What can I help you with,” and The Manager was off and running.  He repeated the entire presentation in 7 minutes, explained he’d knock off a couple percentage points on the interest and bump our points purchase from a lowly 84,000 points to a total of 300,000 points.  “It’s not a deal I offer just anybody but you two look like you need the President’s Package.”  We knew we should have taken more vacations.

“What I don’t understand is exactly what your points get us.  What are we buying?” He of We asked innocently. 

The Manager was not backing down.  He sputtered a bit and tapped the proposal sheet Sales Rookie printed out with the basic costs and financing.  After takng a deep breath he began, “You’re getting the VIP Silver package of 300,000 points but you’re only paying for 84,000 points at the today only discounted price of 10% off at only $199 per 1,000 points and, again for today only, I’ll let you finance the down payment for six years so the total package comes to just $17,049 plus the deposit finance wrapped up into one payment for both loans with no early penalties, and you can upgrade as much as you want at the then current price after only two years.”  Throughout his explanation The Manager circled each number on the page and added his own notes ‘zero deposit,’ ‘two years,’ ‘no prepay penalty’ in his own handwriting facing himself so they were upside down to Both of We and upside down on the page.

“Uh huh.  But what are we buying for that $17,000?”   

The Manager didn’t look well.  His natural dark coloring took on a shade of red not seen in nature.  “Didn’t she show you the chart?” The Manager asked gruffly, spittle foaming at the corners of his mouth and glaring at Sales Rookie with that We’llTalkLater look.  “This explains it all.”  And he flipped open to The Chart.  It listed each of the 4,500 properties available, the number of days we want, the time of year, the upgraded packages, and the number of points it “costs” as long as Venus isn’t in a lunar eclipse.  He actually seemed agitated that we didn’t grasp that during the initial presentation. “Did I mention that we can add the monthly maintenance fee to your monthly payment so you only have to write one check?  No extra charge,” he hissed.

“But what are we actually buying?  For instance, if we want to buy this week for the whole week at this resort how many points is that?”  We think that’s when The Manager went over the edge.  It could be he hadn’t had anybody actually ask questions before.  It was either “Yes, where do I sign?” or “No, where do we sign up for our free excursion?”  We didn’t mean to raise his blood pressure.  After all, we were on vacation.  We’re the ones that should have been getting agitated.   We’d been there less than 18 hours and we were being asked to spend over twenty times the amount we spent on this vacation after a 90 minute presentation and a bad meal.

“Think it over!  Come back tomorrow!  I shouldn’t do this but I’ll give you an extra 24 hours to make up your mind!  Twenty-four hours!” 

That sounded fair to us.  We didn’t want to make any decisions (other than beach or pool) on the first day of our vacation anyway.  “By the way, where do we sign up for our free excursion?”

“Free what? We’ll take care of that tomorrow.”  The Manager took on a decidedly unhealthy rasp to his voice.  “Oh, never mind.  Stop at the desk on your way out.”

Never turn down the free excursion.

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

 

Calling 911

Michael Leave a comment

We are very grateful to the many emergency service employees out there.  Without the police, fire fighters, EMTs, and other crisis responders we really would be in a crisis.  But every now and then we have to wonder how they get through a day without being mistaken for normal people just like us.

We started wondering about this a couple days ago when a news report flashed on a police cruiser dangling over a bridge guiderail like the cartoon versions we’ve seen so often waiting for a bird to land on the half of the car hovering over nothing but air.  How did they get that way?  The good news is that even though the police officers had to climb out through a window, a quick stop at a nearby emergency room confirmed nothing was hurt more than their egos.

Speaking of emergency rooms, He of We was at a stop sign ready to pull out into traffic on the main street when an ambulance, without lights but moving quickly enough that one would pause to make sure it passed by without challenge, passed by.  It wasn’t until it was all the way by that it revealed its rear doors open and swinging with every bend in the road.  It eventually rolled its way out of sight so we aren’t sure if somewhere somebody pointed out the unsecured door.  We’re certain it was empty when it started that run.  Yes, certainly certain.

Then there was the fire truck flashing its many red lights yet rolling somewhat slowly down a city side street, a helmeted head sticking out of the passenger side window of the forward cab looking for all the world like he was looking for an address.  The faint wiff of smoke rising from a car in the next block finally got someone’s attention as the engine sped up and moved to task. 

And surely someone would be along shortly to assist the tow truck on the side of the road with its hood up in the universal sign of “somebody call the wife and tell her I’m going to be late for dinner.”

We guess they all really do put their pants on one leg at a time.  Even the uniform pants.

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

 

We’re On Vacation, Part 1

Michael 2 Comments

You recall the scene in “City Slickers” where Billy Crystal is being dragged behind a galloping horse holding on to the reins, looking to the camera and shouting, “I’m on vacation!” almost as much to convince himself as to inform the world of his status.  We just got back from ours and although we had a wonderfully restful time, we also occasionally had to convince ourselves that we were indeed on vacation.

We don’t get to take a break often enough and nobody was going to take away from our leisure.  We’ll do a day trip or a weekend, but to take 10 days off for either of us and then to coordinate schedules for both of us is hard.  When we saw we would be able to do it this year we jumped at the chance to do it in a big, relaxing way.  Even so, every now and then we had to voice our mantra, “We’re on vacation.”

Neither of We travels much by plane.  He of We does a business trip every once in a great while; She of We has averaged one roundtrip per year for the last three years.  When it came to packing we were pretty careful to keep our checked bags to one each and thus the checked bag fee equally to one each.  Both of We packed our carry ons quite sparingly.  He of We used his classic pilot case and a smaller shoulder bag with net-book, e-reader, and some snacks. She of We carried a quite attractive leather tote with her reader, a few pieces of jewelry, and a matching purse.  All would easily fit “in the overhead bin or under the seat in front of you” as the gate agents announced several times over.

Unfortunately, not everybody obeyed that travel law.  While we were at the gate we saw many future plane-mates wheeling quite overstuffed, oversized cases that would no more fit into the overhead bins than those wheeling them.  About 5 minutes before boarding began the agents announced to the gate lounge, “We have a full flight today and as the plane fills we will most likely be asking people to check their carry-ons.  If you’d like to save some time you can bring your bag to the podium now and we’ll check it through for you to your final destination at no additional charge.”  Not only were these wheelers with the not so carryable carry ons breaking the carry on law, they were getting paid for it and payment was the equivalent of what it cost us to check our bags when we first walked into the airport.  But that was ok.  “We’re on vacation.” 

When we got to board, which was sometime after the first class passengers, those needing assistance, the gold members, the platinum members, the plutonium members, the friends of the chairmen, the preferred select group, the regular select group, the airline credit card holders, and those travelling with young children, we noticed there were still those with the monster carry ons that wouldn’t fit into the overhead compartments.  We observed one fellow drag his not so mini-suitcase from bin to bin, hoist it to overhead bin level, and attempt to force it into the compartment. Either he didn’t realize that each bin was the same height or he thought his case was losing weight from the jumping jacks it was doing.  “We’re on vacation.”

Eventually the flight attendants gathered up all the oversized carry ons and checked them through to their final destinations (at no additional charge) and we made our way to the runway where we were number three to take off.  Six hours and one airport later we emerged onto a palm treed, sun drenched some 2,000 miles from home.  “We’re on vacation!”

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

The Sport the Olympics Didn’t Think of

Michael 2 Comments

We happen to be on vacation this week (we’re sorry if it sounds like we’re bragging, we are) in a Caribbean island paradise.  As we were wandering the grounds we passed what could have been croquet balls.  “But where are the wickets?” She of We asked, surprising herself that she knew what those little wire things are called.   He of We thought perhaps they were bocce balls but were missing the little target ball.  Neither of We were surprised that neither of us knew what that is called.  As we headed down the lane trying to decide if we should lounge on the beach or at the pool we debated if these could become new Olympic sports.  (You debate what you want on vacation, we’ll debate what we want.)

After several false starts, underwater hand standing among them, we settled on bocce.  We were looking for something that had an even playing field and decided that, a la the Winter Olympics’ curling, almost nobody across the globe really knows much about bocce.  You can’t get much more even than that.  Next on our criteria list was a sport, again similar to curling, that the rules don’t help in understanding. Scoring was also a factor.  A quick trip through the Internet revealed scoring to be both complicated and confusing involving measurements, location, and order of play. We also decided that it should be a game that can be played over several days.  Since a single game of bocce can take an entire afternoon to play (we confirmed this by channeling dead Italian relatives), an entire tournament can last the entire 17 days of competition.  This is important since the scoring will be explained on television by commentators who know nothing about it and thus will give them ample opportunity to contradict themselves, once again not unlike those who comment on curling.  And finally, we decided that it was very important to select a new game that can be played rip roaring drunk since it will sprout bocce clubs all over the United States by the guys at the local bars who stayed up all the night before studying it in minute detail so they can be the bar expert on bocce.  These chosen ones may or may not be the same hardy souls who sprouted a curling club two years prior after the winter games.

And thus we present to the International Olympic Committee a sport that will keep television viewers up into the very early hours of the morning all over the world transfixed by the event nobody ever knew existed.  Ladies and gentlemen, we give to you the summer version of the winter signature event curling, Olympic Bocce!

Now, what is that little ball called?  Mario?  Giovanni?  Irving?  We’re going to have to read up on that.

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

 

Decisions, Decisions – and not the easy political kind

Michael Leave a comment

We’re in a quandary.  A friend, a local entertainer, an incredible talent, a vocalist who accompanies himself on the acoustic guitar played his first gig and a nearby lounge a little while ago.  He typically has played in venues that although aren’t far away, are far away enough that you check your gas gauge before you leave home for the evening. So we were quite thrilled when he wrote and told us he’d be no more than 3 miles from He of We’s driveway.

And drive away we did.  We had been to the venue twice before.  Once for a Sunday brunch they no longer do (which was very good), and once for dinner (which was beyond their capabilities).  In neither case was the service anything even approaching average.  It had been at least a year since we had been there so we were anxious to see what changes they had made.

They hadn’t.  But the evening was not a loss.  The food was bad, the service worse, but the entertainment was as first rate as we had anticipated.  We even introduced He of We’s daughter to the acoustic troubadour expanding his influence into the next generation.  The crowd was into his performance and applauded each offering (yes, we’ll say it) wildly.  But the food was so bad.  And the service was so worse.

What we will do if the restaurant brings him back on a regular basis? We don’t want to hurt his feelings not showing up when it’s not even a 15 minute drive, including lights, when we’ve driven over an hour to hear him.  But we don’t want to risk gastro-intestinal distress, possibly irreparable damage, if we have to subject ourselves to their idea of cooking once a month.  We can’t even feign enjoyment and pick our way through the one or two items nobody can screw up because those were the ones they ran out of early in the evening.  Even if they didn’t, we still have to subject ourselves to the worst service we’d seen since the Sixth Grade Washington DC Field Trip Spaghetti Dinner Fundraiser.

We suppose we’re going to have to arrange to be out of town whenever he plays there (“Oh, we wish we knew you were there this week.  We had these airline vouchers we had to use before Monday and thought this would be a good time to see Guam.”), or car trouble (“What bad luck, we were on our way when of all things we couldn’t get the hood to go down.  We thought we could have backed all the way there but the nice police officer didn’t.”), or illness (“Hack hack cough cough sneeze wheeze sneeze.  We’ll make it.  We missed your last 7 sets there.  Well, if you really think you really don’t mind”). 

We don’t know.  Maybe gastrointestinal distress once a month might be good for us.  

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