Category Humor

Year of the Book

Michael Leave a comment

If you are Chinese or eat at a lot of Chinese restaurants then you know that this is the Year of the Horse.  On the other hand, if you like to curl up in a corner next to a crackling fire with one of our favorite pastimes then you know this is the Year of the Book.

 Books are getting to be strange things.  Not the New York Times best sellers, which as far as we can tell is every book that is ever released.   And not the autobiographies of every politician, actor, singer, and fashion designer, which a far as we can tell as long as there are ghost writers willing to be paid for pretending to be someone else there will always be autobiographies of those never heard of before their autobiographies came out.  No, those books aren’t strange.  Well, they are but they have always been so there’s not much new there.

Books are getting to be strange things because they keep on showing up at book stores that the Internet pundits have said would all be disappearing this year for the past five years.  Even among the virtual market flood with e-readers, tablets, and reader apps for smart phones (one has to be pretty desperate to try to read an entire book on a phone), books, real books with actual covers and pages are still being bought enough that there are still bookstores even after the Internet pundits said there shouldn’t be.

When recently asked on a news show, authors and critics alike preferred a real book to read even though those polled had reader devices also.  There is no question that the e-reader is the frequent traveler’s best friend for reading material.  With hundreds of books available on a single unit, one never has to worry what genre to read this evening.  Packing one e-reader is certainly much more convenient than packing a modest 3 or 4 books.  But for sitting in comfy chair next to a crackling fire there is nothing like the feel, the smell, and the heft of a real hard cover book.

Some books you just can’t replace electronically.  The best selling book of all time is still the Bible in all its various versions.  Something you never see is an abridged Bible.  We suppose the Eight Commandments just doesn’t have the same ring as the original.  Though one may not find an abridged Bible they do get smaller and smaller.  Smaller type and thinner pages have taken pounds off the venerable tome.

Everybody should have a couple of classics.  Even if you don’t opt for the leather binding you’ll be hard pressed to really enjoy the art of reading a classic Twain, Poe, or one of the Bronte sisters in an electronic reader.

Other books that aren’t going anywhere electronically are the Idiot’s Guide and the For Dummies series.  These are still going great guns.  We figure it’s because they are easy to hide when company is coming over.  In a reader they are there for all to see.  There are so many of them and more keep coming out every year.  We wouldn’t be surprised if there isn’t an Idiot’s Guide to e-Readers.  Soon we expect to see an Idiot’s Guide for Dummies.

One book that seems to have been lost to modern technology is the road atlas.  It wasn’t too many years ago that half of all cars had one shoved under a seat, tucked into a seat back pocket, or tossed into the trunk.  Now with GPS units, GPS phone apps, and turn-by-turn directions from satellite provides the atlas is becoming extinct.  Yet if you just want an idea of a couple different ways to get from New York to Miami it’s difficult to think of a more useful book.

So there you have it, our Year of the Book.  And regardless of what the Internet pundits have to say, we expect many more years to follow.

That’s what we think.  Really.  How ’bout you?

 

Dear Santa

Michael Leave a comment

Dear Santa,

We know it’s late and we’re sorry about that.  We know you’ve been busy yourself getting all the things put together for your big ride coming up next week.  How do you do it year after year?  We’d be exhausted and retired by now.  Anyway, we have a couple of last minute gift requests we’d like to see if you could help with.

We’d like for those televised football games, which are all of them, that consist of four 15 minute quarters to take less than 3 & ½ hours of television time.  That way when we want to watch something on Sunday night we don’t have to guess when our shows are going to start or where they are in the program if we happen across one that’s already on.  It’s getting so bad that the only thing you can count on starting on time is the Sunday night football game.  But who wants to stay up until midnight the day before you have to go to work?  We always have to go to work the next day.

We’d like a ream of parking instruction pamphlets that we can put on the windshields of cars driven by people who still don’t get what the lines drawn in the parking lots are for.  You probably don’t have that problem as late as you come on Christmas Eve but it’s getting ridiculous trying to find a parking space.  Actually, we can find the spaces, they’re just being taken up by these monster SUVs everyone is driving.  They all seem to think that just because they are driving a truck the size of the space shuttle that they can leave it however they put it, even if it is taking up two or sometimes three spaces.

We’d like to work for people who value us.  That might be a tall order but if you could drop something into their eggnog that makes bosses a little more personable, or at least polite, we’d really appreciate it.  And that probably goes for us when we have to take on the boss role every now and then.

We’d like fire-proof outdoor lights.  Unfortunately both of us have had outside Christmas lights that sputtered, sparked, flared, and scared the heck out of us.  We’re fine and nothing too terrible happened.  When He’s went poof he was standing in the doorway looking at it and said to himself, “Did I just see a spark,” and then out loud, “Whoa! I just saw a spark,” just as the pole lamp became a match stick.  She’s mishap happened when a strong north wind blew so hard it rubbed the cord against the house right through the insulation starting a fire at the highest point of her roof.  We don’t want to sound nasty about it but could you keep your north wind to yourself.  You probably are used to dealing with it and know how to secure stuff around your roof better than we do down here.  Anyway, “proof” versus “resistant” sure would put our minds at ease.  Probably Underwriter’s Laboratory has something to do with this too but things sometimes slip through the cracks.

We’d like a little variety in the television ads here in the lower 48.  Do you know that we sometimes have to sit through the same aging singer singing the same two lines of some made up song 10 or 12 times in a half-hour show?  Better yet, how about some commercial free television.  Probably the guys who own the commercial television stations are asking you for more advertising time but maybe you can work out a deal with everybody.  If you were able to find kids who accepted the toys from the Island of Misfits you should be able to mediate something with those misfits.

We’d like calorie free Christmas cookies.  We’ve noticed that every year you make millions of stops delivering presents and most of them have milk and cookies waiting for you.  All of the pictures we’ve ever seen show an empty plate when you leave.  Ok, those pictures are on usually on Christmas cards but if you can’t trust Hallmark, who can you trust?  You eat all those cookies all in one night and even though you are a little portly (we hate to be the ones to say that) you never get any bigger.  You must have some calorie zapper or something that lets you relish in the billions and billions of chocolate chips you consume.  How about sharing that technology?  If it works for everybody we’ll see what we can do about getting you on Shark Tank next year.  You could make a fortune with that!

And before we forget, we’d like peace on earth.  Sorry if we left the hardest one for last.

Merry Christmas,

She and He

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

 

Seasons Eatings

Michael Leave a comment

Last week the company for which He of We works sent out Christmas presents to the 3,000 and some employees it has across the country – turkeys! Not live turkeys, frozen turkeys. And as such demonstrations of largesse do so often, controversy immediately arose.

The most heard complaint (who complains about free anything?) was “What am I going to do with a turkey after Thanksgiving?” Taking a cue from perhaps the greatest Christmas movie ever released, “A Christmas Story,” the obvious answer would be to have it for Christmas. Now these birds weren’t anywhere near the size of the turkey Ralphie’s father dreams of every yule. A modest 10 or 12 pounds were these. But they were big enough to spark discussions throughout the building.

Apparently almost 40% of those in that building never had, don’t currently have, or will not have plans for turkey for Christmas. What do these people eat? A very informal poll revealed that about half of that group has ham, about half has some cut of roast beef, and about half has lobster, crab, shrimp or some other seafood. Some have sausage. A few have duck. One claimed venison if the hunting season was successful. Nobody has the classic Christmas goose. You will notice that there are well over four halves for that 40%. That’s because almost nobody admitted to only one protein at the Christmas table. Everyone, including the turkey eaters, at the very minimum double dips on the meats at Christmas.

Unlike Thanksgiving where turkey is still the biggest centerpiece on most tables, Christmas food traditions are taking a diverse path. Even the side dishes are more varied than the earlier holiday table sees. Many menus still include sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, mixed vegetables, corn, squashes, and green beans (although the green bean casserole is losing favor in our area). But next to those traditional offerings will sit root vegetables, pastas, rices, pomegranates, mac and cheese, and even quinoa.

The one consistent thing about the Christmas feast, with or without an accompanying Christmas Eve feast, is that Christmas also ends up with many people in food comas spread across sofas watching old movies and munching on the ever present Christmas cookies.

No matter how you carve it, it’s a wonderful time of the year!

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

 

Sleeping in Heavenly Peace

Michael Leave a comment

Some people think the best way to fall asleep is in total darkness and complete silence.  Not here.  We find it much easier to fall asleep to somebody droning on about something.  The 11:00 news is usually good for that.  Flip the television on, tune to one of the favorite local news shows, set the timer for a half hour, and slumber will come long before the weatherman traces his first isobar.

That’s the way it used to be for He.  Now he’s up every couple of hours and every couple of hours it becomes a new chore to fall asleep.  With the modern multi-hundred-channel cable system it should be easy enough to find a droner somewhere, but as the hours get later the choices for an electronic sedative get fewer.  This was a conversation He had with himself a few nights ago.

“Ok, let’s see what we have here.  Oh good, four Duck Dynasty episodes until the paid programming comes on. If I don’t fall asleep at least I’ll have something to watch for a while.  No, I can’t watch that.  I’ll get wrapped up in whatever they’re doing and actually want to watch it.  Oh look, ‘Kindergarten Cop’ is on.  ‘It’s not a tumor.’  Best line from that movie.  Actually the only good line from that movie.  What else do we have?

“Movies, movies, movies.  All of them already started.  I hate coming in the middle of a movie even if I have seen it a thousand times.  Geez, ‘Tin Cup’ is on again.  There must be some golf tournament on this weekend or why would they play that in November?  Why not, they play it every month anyway.  Every day sometimes.  No movie.  I’ll be asleep before I get into it.  What about one of those classic television channels?

“Car 54 Where Are You?  Really?  Really.  Let’s see what that’s all about.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen it.  Oh no, Dragnet with even less personality.  Back to the real channels.

“Hmm, Pawn Stars?  No, they’ll have something really interesting and I’ll want to stay up and watch it but I’ll fall asleep and won’t remember it from the last time I saw it.  I meant to go see that place the last time I was in Vegas.  I wonder why I didn’t?  That’s right, dinner with the boss and his boss and a dozen other bosses.  Next time.

“Well if I don’t find something soon I’ll be asleep.  Ha.  Did you hear that?  Of course I did, I’m right here.  Now where were those duck guys?”

And so it goes every couple of hours.  Droning on about finding something to drone on.  Hmm.  That could be the new sedative.  Just don’t tell the people at work about that.

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

 

Him again?

Michael Leave a comment

Today, a mini-rant.  We, as most of the world, are trying to make ourselves better people.  Persons?   We do good for our friends, neighbors and co-workers.  We give to charities.  We contribute to our local food bank.  We let trucks pull in front of us.  We’re nice people wanting to be nicer.  Isn’t everybody?

Two things nice people do are practice patience and exhibit tolerance.  Yet there are some folks that try even the most patient person’s tolerance.  These are the behaviors we’ve noticed again over just the past few weeks and the ones we can do without while we’re being nice to the rest of the world.

The clerk trying to make life easy for him or her and damn the customer.  Recently He of We was checking out at one of his favorite stores when at the end of the transaction instead of the computer cash register printer spewing forth the printed record of his purchases it made an awkward sound, shimmied a bid, then did nothing.  The clerk said that printer had been giving him problems all day and did He really want a receipt.  “Not if you’ll be available to stand up for me if I should have to come back with an unwanted item within 30 days and with a receipt.’’  The clerk then proceeded to repair the printer which apparently meant re-loading the paper properly.

The boss who gleefully reminds the workers who’s the boss.  Whether after a meeting, lunch, or a special celebration, there is a boss who will remain anonymous whose call to return to the business of taking care of business is “back to your holes and do something.”  Not a particularly well taken suggestion particularly when some of those being spoken to have windowless offices down a blind hall.  (That’s his good point.)

The guy who abuses the express check-out lane.  We’ve brought up this one before and we’re not talking about someone with 13 or 14 items in a 12 item lane.  We mean the person who pulls up a loaded cart with 30 or 40 items.  These people know the rules but they also know that the cashier isn’t going to say anything lest he or she (the cashier) ends up with an unsatisfied customer.  Instead, the overly patient cashier waits until the next person in line is up and apologizes for the inconvenience.

The party at the restaurant who continues to use the table for 30, 40, even 60 minutes after paying the check.  We’ve mentioned how we don’t wait for food and encourage everyone to practice table waiting restraint.  If it’s more than a 15 or 20 minute wait, there’s probably another restaurant nearby with the same menu.  Spread your wings.  What we never conjectured was that the waits are caused by people who consider their tab and tip admission to their table for the evening.  If you aren’t finished socializing after the coffee and deserts move to the lounge, a local bar, or somebody’s house for goodness sake.  (Thanks to Daughter of She for bringing up this brand of irritant.  She was waiting at a restaurant where the hostess told her and company of the reason for the wait.  That should have signaled the end of that wait!)

As we said, we’re trying to be nicer than we already are.  Can’t everybody?

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

A Throne, a Throne, the Kingdom for a Throne

Michael Leave a comment

Since He of We returned from the hospital, chairs have become a funny thing.  Almost all of what he could do in the pre-hospital days he can do post-hospital except get out of most chairs.  If it is true that one’s home is one’s castle, his is definitely missing the throne room.  Let’s explore.

In general, the firmer the surface, the easier is the exit.  That all but eliminates all of the sofas and loveseats in the house.  The set in the living room is soft and squishy and perfect for napping on.  But once he gets down into one he sinks so low he has to roll out of the furniture’s grip and use gravity to help him out.  The only way to fool these man-eating pieces is to remain perched on the edge of the seat, and what fun is that?  A second set in a second room exhibits the same characteristics but with the added attraction of being low to the ground so that when he works his way to the edge he gets the pleasure of having to lift himself an additional 3 or 4 inches.

Moving to the sunroom there is a dandy pair of wicker swivel rockers.  They are a good height with a firm seating area and in an excellent position to sit and read, take a snack, or just watch the outside go by.  Except when it’s time to get up.  Recall they are swivel rockers and wicker.  With little weight behind them when trying to push himself up he usually ends up twisting the chair into such a position that he stands up into a wall or a table.

Recliners abound in He’s house.  He can choose between a compact one, one of a traditional size and style, and an oversized double width job that lays back to almost flat.  All are very easy to drop into, but no kingdom edicts will be made from any of those pieces.  They are too comfortable and lull him into the thinking that he can stay there for as long as necessary and then bound up refreshed and ready to take on the world.  He couldn’t bound out of a recliner before he went into the hospital; now he just reclines there, muttering “another 15 minutes and then I’ll get up.”

The dining room chairs are sturdy, firm, with good backs, and arms to push up and out with.  But who wants to spend an entire day at the dining room table.  The last person who tried that was Henry VIII.

That leaves, well, it leaves the porcelain chair in the “throne room.”  Not ideal for long term sessions and certainly no place to receive visitors. 

Maybe this castle thing isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.  Perhaps one’s house is just a house and the perfect throne is wherever one can sit for a few minutes and take solace in that even if it’s a chore getting up it’s a joy being able to.

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

 

The Just Because You Can Syndrome

Michael Leave a comment

He of We took clock inventory last weekend.  He found 7 digital clocks for which he was responsible to changing to Standard Time.  Of those, 5 require selecting AM or PM as part of the time.  One of them is the coffee pot and you can select when you would like it to turn on.  The others have no calendar function, no auto starts, no reason to tell the difference between morning and night.

It’s more of the Just Because You Can Syndrome.  You know what that is.  Just because something can be done doesn’t make it a great idea to do.  For example, there is a suitcase out there with a TSA approved lock.  But then it also has a pouch wherein you secure your key for said lock and this one locks with a key that you can carry on your keychain that you will have to surrender to the conveyor belt at the security.  So now you have two locks.  One that protects the contents of your suitcase unless it is one of the randomly selected, and one that protects. . . nobody is sure.

So, what do these locks have to do with clocks.  Nothing, it was just a cute story.  But back to the clocks.  If there is no reason to tell day from night, why do so many clocks want to be set so.  It would seem the extra electronics would make the clock more expensive.  Or perhaps it’s a way of having the expensive without it being very expensive. 

Before we leave this tale there is more to He’s inventory.  Last weekend he found 7 digital clocks under his roof.  It wasn’t until Tuesday that he noticed two others.  Those are on the wall mounted control pads for the two garage door openers.  Yes, if you want to see the current time and temperature (temperature even!) all you have to do is come over and check out his garage door openers.  A most necessary function for a switch the allows the garage doors to raise and lower.

By the way, yes, they also require AM or PM to be selected.  Just because it can isn’t a reason to do.

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

No Two Are Alike

Michael Leave a comment

Lately we’ve been finding ourselves saying a lot, “She’s a flake, but really nice,” or “He a nice guy but flakey as high fiber breakfast cereal without the milk.”  We think we’ve figured out why.   They are the same!  Flakey and nice have the same attributes.  Check this out.

The really nice person is the one who says hello to everybody he or she passes.  The flake is the one who talks to complete strangers.

The really nice person is the one who smiles at whoever gets on the elevator.  The flake is one who always has that smile on his or her face and you can’t figure out why.

The really nice person is the one who takes impeccable messages at work even spelling the caller’s name correctly.  The flake is the one who’s always telling you in the lunch room that they know everybody you know/used to work with/went to school with/services your car.

The really nice person is the one who is always ready to help anyone move a box, a piece of furniture, or a side by side refrigerator.  A flake is the one who is always asking what you have in that box.

The really nice person will lend you his or her umbrella when you’re leaving work early and the clouds are starting to thicken.  The flake is the one with the psychedelic paisley print umbrella.  In golf size.

The really nice person always laughs at your jokes even when you know they aren’t funny.  The flake is the one who always laughs.  At anything.  Anytime.  Even during staff meetings with the big boss from out of town.

The really nice person “likes” your post on Facebook about trying to find the owner of the lost cat.  The flake has 37 cats.

See, they’re really the same person.  But that’s ok.  The world can use a few more nice people even if they are a little flakey.  And when you get down to it, the world can use a few more flakes to balance out the people who really do understand high fiber diets.

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

 

Family Time

Michael Leave a comment

For the first time in a long time She and He were not out in public as the We’s.  We were out in public, just not together.  It’s an unusual feeling, but then, we’re not your usual couple.  Not only were She and He not doing our things together, even the Children of We were off doing their own things, sometimes in completely different states.   Let’s take roll.

He of We is mostly responsible for the disparate activities in WeLand this weekend.  He set out for the waters of Lake Erie with Friend of He and three others on their annual fishing trip which precedes the annual Fish Fry and the annual how high can you get your outdoor flame contest.  Actually, that is not a sanctioned competition and only happened one year.  The fishing trip happens every year and there are no she’s connected to any of the he’s there there.  So that started out the weekend early Friday with He of We and Friend of He blazing the trail for the others to follow, getting licenses, checking into the hotel, and timing the route from hotel to dock so we know what time to leave in the morning to be there at 5am, our assigned departure time.  The trip was wildly successful with the fisherpeople maxing out in record time.  So fast were the limits caught that when the group returned to the dock there was actually a wait for the cutters and cleaners to come in and turn the haul into groceries. But even with an early return, getting up at something after three in the morning made for needing much sleep the rest of Saturday and Sunday and therefore few she’s saw anything of any of their he’s who were part of that group.

So there you have the impetus for the We-free weekend.  But there were still others among us who managed to spend their weekend times without the rest.  For example, Daughter of He spent her Saturday in running gear running past those who would be lobbing powder-based paint at her and the others taking part in another annual event, the Color Run.  The Color Run is too hard to explain here but it involves people who run a fairly normal 5K fun run circuit except they are clean at the start and look something like bad graffiti at the finish.  Daughter of She was doing this about 150 miles from home so that shot her day with any other family members.

Sons of She weren’t there to put the family in family time either, both taking part in one of their many shared interests, golf.  For two brothers who act like brothers as much as two brothers can act like stereotypical siblings, they have remarkably similar interests.  They both golf, they both enjoy the presence of a pool in each of their respective backyards.  They are both fond of eating out but with different partialities.  She of We often has told the story of them as mere toddlers in restaurants, the older would order for both of them with “I’ll have the steak and my brother will have the shrimp.”  They both like vintage toys and as we found out for the first time last week, they both like being at the racetrack.  But this weekend they were both golfing and even if they both managed to keep all four wheels of the carts on the cart paths and no errant drives found their ways through either’s sun roof (both potential topics for this very post), it would still be a full day affair because that’s how they do it.  Whether separately or together.

So now you see why She of We was We-less through the weekend.  Before it was over, the Children of We did manage to find their respective ways to the respective parents and made less than token appearances, because that’s what our kids do.  And She and He of We managed to find some hours together either by phone or by text to keep each other up to date with their We-free Weekend because that’s what we do.

Even if none of us were able to get any of ourselves together for just a weekend it would be fine because we happen to know that for this small group of people, all adults, all with their own lives, we still keep it together.  For us, any time is family time, and all the time is quality time.

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

 

But a House is Not a Home

Michael Leave a comment

We aren’t rich.  Barring a hit on the PowerBall we’ll never be rich.  Our investments taken together aren’t very interesting.  In fact the only interest bearing accounts we have are our televisions on account of we’re interested in old TV shows and cable has them.  We like little extravagances like motoring in the countryside in He of We’s little convertible but it’s 15 years old and was bought used 12 years ago.  We have some spectacular accessories in our houses because we were able to buy them in remainder shops, on sale, or on sale in remainder shops.  Our most recent extravagances are the little fountains we bought for our respective decks.  On sale.  Our wealth is in each other, our families, and our friends.  And we’re happy with that.

But boy we’d love to be rich some day.  For whatever reason we have taken to Sunday afternoon drives in said little convertible through the said countryside which is really the wooded borders between affluence and more affluence.  We like to look at the big houses and the way they aren’t as well landscaped as ours which we do ourselves.  It was on one of these drives that we sort of got lost.  We almost always have a good sense of where we are.  Whether it’s in a subdivision or an unincorporated township between hither and yon, we know how to read legislative route signs, can tell east from west, and have lived where we live for the better part of our adult lives.  The best part of our adult lives has been since we met each other but that’s a different post.

On this trip we were lost.  We knew from the signs that we were closer to more affluence rather than your garden variety affluence and when we drove past the horse farm we finally had most of our bearings back where they belonged.  In fact, it was just past the horse farm that He of We turned left onto a road we had never even heard of yet alone been on.  To the right of the car was a garden variety Mini-Mansion (not to be confused with a McMansion which isn’t one at all and yet again a different post).   And that’s when He or We mumbled, “Oh.  My.  God.”

“It nice, isn’t it?  A little plain though,” She of We responded.

“No, not there,” He of We literally stammered.  “Up ahead.”

And up ahead was just the peak of a roofline that screamed castle.  As we climbed the little knoll, more of the roof, or of the roofs came into view, then the stone, and the windows with their beveled glass and cross-shaped mullions, and the second floor windows, and the first floor cap, and the doors and fence and the biggest house, by far the biggest house we had ever seen.  There was a fountain in front that wouldn’t be out of place in front of a Las Vegas casino.  As we drove past we saw appendages angle from the back corners and out buildings larger than most of the Mini-Mansions that shared this short street.  We were in the land of million dollar houses and this made them seem small, very small.

We really needed to find out more about this building that was larger than most country club club houses in the area.  And find out we did.  Later, when we got home, the county assessment site obliging told us that we had been parked outside a 34 room, 30,000 square foot home with 12 bedrooms, 21 full or half baths, sitting on 6+ acres and valued at $9.5 million.

But back on that road, as we rounded our way around the cul-de-sac, another car approached.  A dark car.  A black car.  With dark windows.  Black windows.  The kind of car that would make you think Guard Patrol.  He of We did think it and thought it out loud just as She of We was saying “Slow down, I want to take pictures.”

“But it’s a patrol car,” He of We said.

”No it isn’t.  And if it is, what can they do.  Stop here, I have a good shot.”  And we stopped.

The black car circled behind us, stopped, then slowly pulled alongside us.  Slower still they passed us, pulled in front of us and stopped.  The heavily tinted window slid down.  And then the passenger leaned out the window and snapped some pictures of her own.  Just another sightseer in the land of more affluence.  Right there, in front of us.

And in front of that structure, among the million dollar houses, in our little car, we looked at each other and said, “Nice fountain.”

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