Category Humor

In Like a Lyin’

Michael Leave a comment

March may traditionally come in like a lion but the first week of this month had me thinking of all the official lies we have had forced upon us. Damn those government bureaucrats. They’ve taken four shots per bottle away from us in the name of world-wide conformity and nobody has said a thing about it. Clearly I am talking about the metric system. Either that or else clearly, I’ve completely lost it this time.

Once upon a time, in fact once upon the 1890s as the temperance movement was gaining ground, laws were being passed to permit sales of alcohol by bottles “to go” rather than by the drink “for here” to discourage people from drinking outside the home and thus appearing drunk in public. Better to be drunk in front of family I suppose. Anyway, the lowest legal amount one could sale for removal from the premises was four-fifths of a quart, aka 25 2/3 ounces or one fifth of a gallon. Thus a fifth was born.

Then, once upon another time, this one in fact once upon the mid 1970s, the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms further reduced that commercial package to a standard volume of 750ml, a loss of an additional 7ml. Why, after three-quarters of a century of people losing almost 6 ounces of good whiskey per bottle did the aforementioned bureaucrats see fit to lop off enough to make for a full four shot loss (based on a 1-1/2 ounce shot)? Because President Gerald Ford signed the Metric Conversion Act and ATF wasn’t going to be remembered as slackers when people looked back during the next century to see how terrific life became because of the metrication of America. (And now when somebody brings up Gerald Ford’s accomplishments as President, you’ll have something to contribute.) (You’re welcome.)

That’s why every year when I hear somebody trot out that old saw “March, in like a lion, out like a lamb” (guffaw, guffaw), my brain translates that to “in like a lyin’” you-know-what and mourns the loss of all that good bourbon.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

Yes, It Is a Number – A BIG Number

Michael Leave a comment

I had a terrific post ready to upload but then that old lady happened. It was supposed to be about getting older but how everyone says, “Hey, it’s just a number.” In a way, this post is still about that. Let me start at the beginning.

I was at the store just as the heavens opened with a good old-fashioned downpour. Hundreds of gallons of water poured out of the sky every minute. And that was at its slowest. Then, it stopped. As quick as it started it just stopped. Unpredictable spring weather. I hobbled my way to the car, loaded up the groceries, backed out of the space, and turned toward the exit.

And there she was. Marching down the middle of the road, head bent over, shuffling in that gait you have to be around 90 to master, was that old lady. She was every one of 90 years, not looking left, nor right, nor straight ahead. She looked nowhere and at nothing. And she headed straight for me.

The last place I wanted to see her was splayed across my hood as some macabre ornament. But she continued heading straight for me. I mean straight. She didn’t veer a fraction of a degree to either side. She was walking right to me. The impact was going to crush her. Her bones were going to drop out of her skin and she was going to collapse in a heap like a worn out building imploded to make way for a new one. I would be guilty of running over an old lady. And I was stopped!

I had to warn her. I tried to connect with her telepathically telling her to look up. Either I didn’t get through or she just ignored my call because she kept her head down and kept on coming. I rolled down the window and waved furiously. She walked on. I called to her. “Yo, Lady!” Nothing. Finally I decided she had left me no choice. I had to use my horn. I had hoped to avoid that. I was certain that the sudden honk would startle her into a heart attack and then I would be guilty of oldladycide.

As gently as I could, I pushed down on the horn button in the steering wheel and was awarded with a short “…beep…..” Still nothing. To myself I said, “Self, give it to her,” and smashed down on that picture of a horn and let go with a “HOONNNNKKKKKKKK!”

Finally, just steps away, she looked up, saw me sitting there, snarled at me (yes, snarled), then flipped me the bird.

Oh it’s a number all right.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

Different Potpourri du Different Jour

Michael Leave a comment

Yesterday completed the year-long fundraising effort by Penn State’s Pan-Hellenic Council to benefit the Four Diamonds Fund at Hershey Medical Center children’s cancer unit – or more lovingly known by the PSU crowd as “Thon.” The pinnacle event is the weekend long dance marathon with the fundraising reveal wrapping up the festivities. This year Thon raised over $9.77 million dollars for the charity, still the world’s largest student run philanthropy. Thon typically runs on about a 4% administrative cost. That means that 96 cents of each one of those dollars goes to the charity. Compare this to the American Cancer Society, no slouch in fund-raising themselves, who manage to work on about 84% costs netting their charity efforts 16 cents for each dollar raised. It would do us well to remember that the student can sometimes be the teacher.

I was standing in the super market line and saw this blurb on one of the magazines that festoon the check-out lines. “Lose weight and gain height with new diet!” It went on to claim one could lose 5 pounds in weight and gain 2 inches in height in the first week. It could just be me but I’m suspecting some monkey business with those figures. I think it is quite possible to lose 5 pounds in a week but I can’t figure out any diet that adds heights, unless it’s to eat anything but eat it while being stretched on a rack.

Speaking of diets, a different cover screamed at me that I could lose weight just by cutting out sugar. I’ll remember that while I’m gorging on french fries and cole slaw while scarfing up double bacon cheeseburgers and washing it all down with several bottles of beer. If figure if I do that 4 or 5 times a week I can positively disappear by the end of next month.

Speaking of french fries, shouldn’t it really be frenched fries referring to manner in which they are cut. What became of the “ed?” I wonder if that was what the potato lost when it eliminated sugar from its diet.

And speaking of nothing that we’ve already spoken of, Spring is really around the corner. It was a balmy(!) 55 degrees this afternoon and I spotted my first non-fat guy wearing shorts. There is no surer sign that spring is here.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

Does “NEW” Hate You Too?

Michael Leave a comment

Is it just me? I hate new stuff. No, I don’t live in the past. No, I don’t get buyer’s remorse. No, I’m not anti-progress. (Would that be antigress?) It’s that new stuff hates me so I just return the sentiment.

Let me start from the beginning. I got a new pan couple of weeks ago. I needed a good, all-purpose, use for anything, go from stove top to oven, can’t hurt it no matter how hard you try pan. So I got one. A top ranked, best buy, do it all carbon steel pan. It does everything it should do. It seasoned easily. Nothing sticks to it. Its construction was clearly well thought with a welded handle so there are no interior handle rivets and that handle is a perfect length and angle so it fits comfortably on top of the stove or inside the oven. It’s everything I wanted – and it hates me. It heats much faster than my old pan so I burnt everything I put into it for the first three days. It’s not too heavy but heavy enough that when I was using an older smaller pan and flipped an omelet I over compensated for the weight I didn’t have at the end of my arm and ended up having to clean half-cooked egg off of a textured ceiling. (While we’re at it, I hate textured ceilings also.)

Give me another two or three weeks and I’ll love my new pan but right now it hates me so I hate it. And I figured out I go through this with everything. I’ll get a new TV and I spend the first month with it adjusting the audio and picture settings. I got a new keyboard and experimented with every tone, tempo, and special effect before finally settling on the default settings. My new car is coming up on two years old and I still haven’t found just the right position for the seatback. New shoes – soles are too slippery. New book – pages stick together. New tablet – reset bookmarks. New pen – it’s probably easier to never write again! Seriously, is it just me?

Antigress? I think I’ll submit that as my nomination for best new word of 2016. I should start using it more now sto that by December I’ll be more comfortable with it.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

 

Potpourri du Jour

Michael 1 Comment

I had a heck of a time figuring out what to write for today’s post. Not because the possibilities were endless, let me tell you. In truth, they were somewhat limited but terribly diverse.

Yesterday was Valentine’s Day, or as some people prefer, St. Valentine’s Day. One would think referring to the Saint (or Saints if you wish since there were actually three of them) gives the holiday more credence. This is both true and misleading. The Roman Catholic Church removed St. Valentine Day from its calendar in 1969. They are still Saints, just not with a specific feast day. Thus yesterday officially was Valentine’s Day.

The fact that those guys were real people who were canonized has made Valentine’s Day a holiday non-grata in some parts of the world whatever you want to call it. There are places where Christian traditions are seen as contrary to other religions and religious traditions.  You’d also think that the church and state separatist nuts in the U.S. would also prefer plain Valentine’s Day to St. Valentine’s Day and perhaps they do because you never hear anything about the ACLU suing anybody over giving away cards and chocolate without a Saint being involved. Then again they seem to get just as drunk as every else on St. Patrick’s Day so who knows what they think.

Another one of potential topics for today is the abrupt end of commercialism of holidays including Valentine’s Day. We might have a 10 or 12 week marketing run-up to the holiday but once it gets here, it’s done for. Just a day before television, radio, print, and electronic ads touted candies, flowers, fruit, jewelry, even pizza for the one you love. Today those same ad spots were pushing life insurance, disposable diapers, tires, and toilet cleaners.  After noon you couldn’t even find a decent rom-com without downloading it from a ppv service. Where did the love go?

Another possible topic for today’s post is another American holiday that isn’t – Presidents’ Day. Officially today is Washington’s Birthday. Even though was have a firm date for George’s birth, February 22, we don’t celebrate it then because the Uniform Monday Holiday Act of 1968 pushed four federal holidays (Washington’s Birthday, Memorial Day, Columbus Day, and Veterans’ Day) from their fixed day designations to specific Mondays thus ensuring at least 4 three day weekends for federal workers. (Which calls to mind, how many people work for the federal government? About half of them. Ha, ha, ha! Geez, I crack myself up!)

Anyway, when that happened although nobody of any importance, certainly nobody in Congress, changed anything else about Washington’s Birthday. Still, all of a sudden it became Presidents’ Day. Some people claimed it was the perfect time to recognize the contributions of all of the U. S. Presidents and their accomplishments. If you ask me, I think the only President we ever had who was really cognizant of his responsibility to the country and its citizens was George Washington. Everyone who came after has been less respectful than the one before until we have now reached the pinnacle of disrespect by being given the choice between one to the current crop of Democrat idiots versus one of the current crop of Republican idiots. And they expect us to make that choice without throwing up all over the ballot.

Now that I’ve given this all some thought I don’t think any of these are worth the effort. Good thing today’s culture makes disdain so effortless.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

Milk and Bread and Toilet Paper – Oh My

Michael Leave a comment

A week ago I was writing about a restaurant with a sign up that said “Patio Open.” This week, that patio is covered with snow. There are times I truly hate February. But I have my milk, bread, and toilet paper so I know I’m set for the rest of the month.

I’m sure there are super-markets across the country, no, across the world that are overrun with mad shoppers a flake short of looters hoarding all the milk, bread, and toilet paper at the first hint of a storm. But here we can actually walk that particular cat back to a real crisis – sort of.

It was in 1950, the day after Thanksgiving. The forecast was dire, 12 inches of snow over the next 24 hours. The weathermen (remember, 1950, no weatherwomen then) were wrong. Over three feet fell over those 24 hours. Over the next few days the locals dealt with it. The snow came, emergency services served, and people existed on their Thanksgiving leftovers.

The weekend came and went and so did the leftovers. Probably because of those leftovers, the city grocers had fairly well stocked shelves come Monday. So well stocked they were that one of the local papers headlined how well things were going with “City’s Food Supply Is in Good Shape.” The story was slugged “There Is Plenty for Everybody…” That was a relief, but rather short-lived. The article’s second sentence began, “Milk was the one shortage that has hit all sections…”  The sentences that followed noted specific abundances, praised workers who showed up, and in general commented positively on how there is still plenty of food for everybody. Except for that milk thing. Oh, and bread which had been “doled out in some stores.” Remember, 1950. World War II rationing wasn’t that long ago. “Doled out” did not conjure up images of “plenty for everybody.”

Then to make matters worse the story continued that heads of families should buy “only what you need on a day-to-day schedule in order to have enough of everything to go around.” That doesn’t sound like “plenty for everybody” at all. No sir, not at all.  No milk, no bread and here are families who just spent a weekend of every meal that included leftover turkey gravy. And those were some big families (remember, 1950, baby boomers). If they needed enough of anything to go around it was going to be toilet paper. And it was going to be soon!

Ever since then, no matter what the forecast, if there was any snow in it then as God as our witness we will NEVER run out of milk, bread, or toilet paper! And that’s why today when I stopped in the bakery for a loaf of bread all that was left were a few mini-Italians and a couple donuts. The little cooler had no milk and they don’t even sell toilet paper. And yes, yesterday’s forecast called for 1 to 3 inches by tomorrow.

Fortunately I really don’t drink much milk. I myself am a mini-Italian so I was quite satisfied with the available bread. Since the inception of places like Sam’s and Cosco I can open my own toilet paper franchise.

The donuts? They were a plus. I figure you can never have too much of anything with sprinkles, and if I didn’t buy them somebody else would.

I can hardly wait for the next snowfall.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

 

One For The Ages

Michael Leave a comment

Yesterday was a big day in the sports world. In America’s sports world. They played a football game. There were no unsportsmanlike conduct penalties, nobody left the game concussed, no spectator was arrested, nobody was caught cheating, and no player was charged with abuse. It was a remarkable game. We’re talking about Puppy Bowl XII!

For the past several years the Puppy Bowl has been the top rated non-sports broadcast on Super Bowl Sunday. (Super Bowl Sunday – I wonder how many people say that with as much, or even more, reverence as Easter Sunday.)

Back to the Puppy Bowl. What started as a diversion to keep the little ones out of the big ones hair when prepping for THE big game has now become an event of its own. Last year, over 10.4 million people watched Puppy Bowl XI. Over 110 million folk watched last year’s Super Bowl but that’s still a bunch of people, not much less than how many watch Big Bang Theory every week, watching what is basically a two hour infomercial for adopting rescue animals.

I think it’s become successful because it’s so cute. I bet more people want to go out an adopt a pet after seeing the Puppy Bowl than after seeing one of those depressing humane society ads. Who wouldn’t want a new best friend who loves running around in packs, playing with toys, and giving big sloppy kisses and just asks for a daily bowl of kibble in return? (Yes, there is a catch but that’s an easy enough one to deal with.)

Now, about that other game that was played yesterday, can’t we just have the commercials without all that other hoopla going on?

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

Outdated

Michael Leave a comment

You know, I’m not so sure this is exactly what Punxsutawney Phil had in mind when he predicted an early spring on Tuesday. Yesterday I was driving about and I passed a restaurant whose marquee proclaimed “Patio Open!” Indeed it was a warmish day but it is still February and I was driving north of the Mason Dixon Line. I had a look at the patio as I motored past it. Those chairs were metal! I don’t care if it is a warmish February, if you are sitting out there you will have a less than warmish behind.

It made me wonder, was that restaurant really ready to relegate patrons to the refrigerator? Or perhaps had the owner not updated the signage since last April? It’s been known to happen that not everybody stays as up to date as one might. I offer these observations.

The local mega-market adjusted its hours last year. I recall when the signs went up. One sign in particular. “The Beer Department will close at 9pm effective January 20, 2015.” After more than a year it’s time to retire that sign.

The corner fruit market has two signs in the window proclaiming its operating hours. One is headed “Summer Hours” and the other “Winter Hours.” There is no notice of when each becomes effective, or for the half-empty crowd, is no longer valid.

Hanging on the door to my doctor’s office is a sign reading, “Effective July 1, all billing will be handled by XYZ specialists.” Does that mean they are giving patients a very long notice or that they have forgotten to take it down?

And let us not forget the cheery voice every time you try to call bank, insurance company, hospital, auto mechanic, or piano teacher, who has greeted callers with, “Please listen carefully as our menu items have changed,” since 1996.

Expiration dates shouldn’t be just for milk.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

The Groundhog and the Chicken

Michael Leave a comment

One thing that makes this country great is our sense of tradition. Granted we’re homing in on only 240 years of tradition and not the thousands you see in Europe or the tens of thousands in the very cradle of civilization but I’m still quite happy with our couple hundred years. And now it’s under attack – and it’s under attack by some of our very own people, the marshmallow peeps people who are trying to take over the groundhog’s God-given right to tell us when spring will begin.

Yes, the folks at Just Born Candy, makers of those cloyingly sweet, overly sticky, artificially colored candy barnyard animal facsimiles are trying to dethrone Punxsutawney Phil as Pennsylvania’s, as America’s, as the world’s number one prognosticator of the commencement of Spring. For 230 of America’s 239 springs, Phil has been the constant by which people have determined whether it’s safe to venture out or remain sheltered for six more weeks.

So universal is Phil’s attraction that official chapters of the Groundhog Club are found across the globe. So loved is Phil that over 30,000 people visit the small town of Punxsutawney situated in western Pennsylvania not far from the Allegheny National Forest to catch a glimpse of Phil emerging from his tree stump on Gobbler’s Knob.

Now the eastern Pennsylvania candy-makers claim their mascot is the true sign of the coming of Spring coinciding with the arrival of their marshmallow Peeps in stores. What a bunch of greedy hogwash if you’ll excuse my frankness. Those silly, sickly sweet confections are in the stores year round. There are peeps masquerading as marshmallow ghosts, Christmas trees, hearts, cherries, bunnies, and snowmen. Phil knows when his job is done he gets to take a well-deserved rest and chill out for the rest of the year content in the knowledge that he doesn’t have to try to invade our lives lest we forget his contribution to society.

Peeps versus Phil. How ridiculous! We’re supposed to substitute a fake chicken for a real groundhog? Ludicrous. Who ever heard of a ground chicken? Hmmm, ground chicken. Now that might be worth pursuing!

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

Clearly you can tell I’m more than a bit passionate about Punxsutawney Phil. So much so that the only picture in the entire blog is of him, sort of. That little guy has made it into close to a dozen RRSB posts making him a Real Reality frequent flyer. See his debut – and his “picture” – here (Six Weeks, Feb. 2, 2012).

They’re At It Again

Michael Leave a comment

About a year ago I posted a post where I posited that we all could make a nice piece of change by buying car insurance (see “Buy, Save, Repeat,” Jan, 15, 2015). There’s another opportunity out there just waiting to be taken advantage of – cell phone service.

Yesterday’s haul of junk mail included six (6!) offers of fabulous savings just waiting to be doled out in exchange for trading in my current cell service. Offers included a flat rate offer of $20/month and another of $30/month, one with a free phone and one with two free phones, one with a new phone, one with savings of up to 60% off, and one for half of whatever I might be paying now.

I did a little figuring and if I trade in my phone for the new service with 2 new phones then switch to the $20/month plan for each of those then take 60% off and finally move on to the half of what I would then currently be paying I could get service for $6/month and end up with an extra phone that I could sell.

Makes you wonder how these guys stay in business.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?