Tag Humor

Advanced planning?

Michael 2 Comments

Let me start by saying I don’t expect anything to happen soon but… Like many Americans, and maybe other Earthlings, I have planned and prepaid my, ahem, final expenses. When I first entered into the agreement? program? coercive activity? it was called pre-paid arrangements. After a while, the monthly bills would list it as pre-planned activities. (You know, activities like pickleball and croquet.)  Now, even though the arranged activities have long been paid, I still get a monthly mailing detailing new options and and additional services in what is now referred to as advanced planning. 

I have a problem with this nomenclature. Shouldn’t all planning be of the advanced type. Doesn’t the “plan” assume it’s happening “pre-“ something. What would the opposite of pre-planning be anyway? Crisis management?

It seems to me that somewhere along the way, someone wanted to capitalize on making plans but ‘plan’ all by itself sounded too weak to be a viable strategy. Plan. Dull, unimaginative, overlook-able. Can you hear the marketing guys talking about plans?

Plan? Won’t do. Much too unremarkable. We need to spice it up or people won’t go for it. Let’s call it a pre-plan. Maybe an advanced plan. How about advanced pre-plan? Too much? Okay. We’ll start with pre-plan and go from there. If in a couple years we need to goose it up a bit, we know we have ‘advanced’ in our back pocket.

Personally, I think ‘plan’ all by itself gets the message across. It’s a message we spent some time on in yesterday’s Uplift post at ROAMcare, Be prepared. And yes, had I been more prepared today, you”d have gotten this post in your mailbox hours ago.

Several of those days

Michael 5 Comments

Now that the day is half over (in my time zone), it’s probably time to do something with it. Heaven knows I have a lot I can be doing. But do I really want to? Clearly, the world doesn’t want me to.  And why, you may ask??

I’ve tried several times to get to work on a writing project and Word does not want to cooperate. Odd thing that is. I use a machine based version and every time I open it, it lets me type a sentence or two and then it disappears, just like Scotty beamed it up. Or down. Or somewhere. But not on my screen any more. And of course the autosave doesn’t seem to be doing any better than the native program so I can’t even retrieve the sentence or two.

Pre-orders for Bad Impressions opens today and naturally there’s a glitch, specifically with the hardback version. Fortunately it doesn’t look like any hardcover orders were rejected. Unfortunately it doesn’t look like any hardcover orders were rejected.

I have a conference all later today for an upcoming Toastmasters conference and I’m not looking forward to it primarily because in order to accommodate various people’s schedules, it’s right in the middle of the evening, interrupting my usual dinner hour which seems to be trending later and later because lunch has been trending later and later because my day starting hour has been trending later and later. I said I’m not looking forward to the call primarily for that reason but there really are not secondary or tertiary reasons so I guess I not looking forward to it solely for that reason.

I should be cleaning the deck and putting away things that are put-away-able and covering things that are not so easily put away but because of the brief deluge from yesterday, it will be a good 2 or 3 days before everything is dry enough to consider covering up or storing away.

And those are just the things that I woke up knowing I’d have to/want to/should consider to do. It looks like it’s going to be one of those days several times over. Oh well, tomorrow will be another day. Hopefully not another one of them.

Band-Aids and Coffee

Michael 17 Comments

I visited my daughter yesterday and she greeted me with a small bandage around a finger and a series of them of the larger variety up her right arm.

“My! What happened to you?

“Just a regular morning. Seems my life being held together with Ban-Aids and coffee.”

Coffee is her pick me up and her sedative, her elixir of life. For as long as I remember, she’s always liked coffee. I was like that too. I never didn’t not like coffee. Coffee, tea, chocolate. Anything with caffeine although I don’t overly indulge. I can’t say that I have known anyone else who immediately took to the black gold of beverages. (I also immediately took to that other liquid black gold, Guinness, even though beer in general is not among my list of favorite beverages. Guinness has a sweetness to me, but that’s a story for a different post.)

Most “adult” beverages take some getting used to. Some people never get used to them. Or to some of them. The clear ones, tequila, vodka, and gin, take most people by the greatest degree of surprise at first sip. They’re clear. Like water. They should have no taste. But they do. And somehow people get used to them.

It’s not only beverages that hold this acquired taste phenomenon. The cheese family has many examples of food that objectively tastes bad. Stop and think about it. Most cheeses smell bad, rely on mold or fermentation to achieve their heady flavor, and many come with a slimy, sticky, or crumbly texture if they aren’t held together by a waxy coating. Not the sort of list one might write up when developing a yummy confection from scratch.

Did you ever try to eat a peeled kiwi by hand? Impossible. It’s like trying to corral a sardine.

Speaking of sardines, the fish family is another with seemingly endless reasons not to like. Slimy, smelly, bones that magically appear after cooking.

then there are bizarre organ meats. Liver, tripe, brains. Ecch.

Mind you, I like all this stuff. And add to that olives, squid, eel, even cilantro.

But no liver or brains. And no gin.

What I Did Last Week

Michael 10 Comments

What a week. I’ve been so busy I barely noticed the tangerine tyrant threatening to drop 82nd airborne troops into Portland Oregon, the Notsoproudboys, aka immigration enforcement not-officers-and-gentlemen rappelling out of attack helicopters to storm an apartment building in America’s heartland, or Speaker Whatshisname sending the RINOs home then complaining that the Democrats don’t want to meet. All that good stuff all in one week.  Barely seems like it was just a week ago that I was concerned if there was intelligent life on this side of the planet.

Instead, I finally got around to doing some Christmas shopping. I know. I’m just so late this year. Usually by the back-to-school sale days I’m down to just needing stocking stuffers. Where did I go wrong?

Now I have rush through the remains of the list so I can get back on track and start shopping for next year’s May and June anniversaries and birthdays. Do you know how hard it’s going to be to find something June-worthy in December? That clearly should have been August activity.

The good news is, I have Halloween candy on this week’s shopping list.

Okay, maybe that was just a bit hyperbolic, but I really am behind the holiday shopping curve, and I know why. I’m not a “let’s go out with a big holiday shopping list on Black Friday and see how much we get in one day” shopper. I tend to pick things up all through the year as I see them and see that those things would be perfect for someone. I’ll squirrel them away, then during the week before Christmas I’ll scour the house trying to remember I hid it all. Which is still better than just starting to shop then like half of all the other men in America. Mind you now, I’ll likely still go out and shop during that week, but I’ll be calmer than the rest of the shopping crowd because I won’t have to go out and buy.

So that’s why I missed so much of last week’s news. I was out shopping. And I didn’t shop for any televisions or radios so, there’s that too.

Another thing I did was get out the ‘thank you for joining and here are some directions’ letters to the ARC team for Bad Impressions. (Those of you who did send emails expressing interest, if you didn’t get an email from me over the weekend check your spam folders. Anyone still interested in joining, there are a couple spaces left. Get back to me this week. Details and a request form are on the new website, www.michaelrossmedia.com, something else I did last week.)

Okay all, have a good week. I have a few more people to serendipitously come across things for.

Happy no labor today

Michael 12 Comments

Happy Labor Day. In the past I’d have followed that with some wonderful tale of all those who labor to keep our cities, in fact our entire country going without needing parades or even particularly expecting recognition. First responders yes, military yes, but also hospital workers, flight attendants, television and radio presenters, even gas station, convenience store, and fast-food restaurant employees. All the people who are there for you when you drive home from the parades, or the semi-annual paint and appliance sales at the mega-marts (the other half of the semi-annual sales held on Memorial Day, naturally).

But not this year. This year I’m going to celebrate the PowerBall. It’s up to $1.1 billion and will continue to grow until the drawing at 11:00 EDT tonight. Just think of all the laboring you could get out of if you have that single winning ticket. You could fund yourself the company of poor South African draft dodger immigrants who stole the idea for electronic fund transfer and electric cars on your way to financing the biggest oaf to ever pave over a rose garden. You might be one proposal away from treating yourself to the most lavish wedding since those of Henry VIII while reducing the wages of those passing the hors d’oeuvres on solid platinum trays to your guests, mere millionaires who grovel at your feet.

Yes, with the fortuitous bounces of six ping pong balls, you could be on TV expounding how we’re all going to die someday but not you because you can now afford healthcare. You don’t have to care about gun laws because you can surround yourself with armed lackies to protect you and your ears from violence. You don’t have to worry about living alone and wondering where your next meal will come from because people will line up to be part of your inner circle where they all tell you how fortunate the world is that you are you, and of course they’ll happily pick up a quarter pounder for you for the promise that you will gladly pay them back on Tuesday for a hamburger today.

Yes, I could celebrate Labor Day, but I’d much rather hope I too can become America’s newest billionaire and take pride in the new deduction awarded me on the purchase of my own airplane and look down upon the worker bees, aka the former backbone of this country.

I could also stop and ask why are we celebrating anything when we’ve just experienced 44th school shooting (and 502nd mass shooting) of 2025? But then I remembered the main mass media has already moved on from that and and our esteemed former drug addict now secretary of HHS has assured us if we can reduce the use of antidepressants in this country the school shootings will go down too.

So instead, I’m buying up all the Powerball tickets I can afford and hit that $1.1 billion jackpot. Maybe then I’ll be good enough for the orange menace and his band of thieves to take advice from when I tell them they really need to go hell. And soon.

What’s in a word

Michael 6 Comments

I met a friend for lunch last week. He said, “how ‘bout the Dive Bar.” “Sounds good to me.” Now, you might think a dive bar is an odd place for a meal, but notice in its first appearance in this tale, the D and B are upper case. Hmm. A proper name. And in fact, this Dive Bar is a far cry from a dive bar (where lunch can also be had if you don’t mind a microwaved frozen pizza).

The Dive Bar has a beautiful bar, horseshoe shaped, trimmed in walnut, high tops in wood and marble, comfy banquettes, dim lighting. It features a separate dining room with a wall of windows that bathe the space in natural light. When it feels like letting its hair down and recalling its namesake, an entire separate bar upstairs hosts happy hours, karaoke nights, and bar specials so the lower level remains up scale. Truly, the Dive Bar is not a dive bar. You can’t always rely on your expectations and assumptions. There could be untold millions who have missed on out a fabulous lunch because they didn’t want to eat at a dive bar.

Fifth century Pope St. Celestine I, founder of the papal diplomatic service said, “We are deservedly to blame if we encourage error by silence.” I am following the good pontiff’s advice and calling out some of the more egregious errors of the week. Think of it as real news. Or maybe stupid news. Don’t worry though. Thursday I will return with the good news from the week.

My favorite piece of erroneous thought this week comes from our favorite source of errors and little thought – yes, Mr. Orange-Aid himself, the dingiest, the dongiest, the dingdong-in-chief. When asked about the weak jobs report, the bozo of all bozos said (out in public mind you), “We’re doing so well – I believe the numbers were phony so you know what I did? I fired her.”

That narrowly beat out Last week’s headline news: “Federal officials to repeal Obama era climate change findings.“

Of course, anyone who grachatated the sixth grade knows that’s not how math and science work. But that’s okay. These are the same people who told you illegal immigrants are on Medicaid. I suppose they got sick from eating all the dogs. Sorry – that’s old news.

Okay. Here’s a sneak peak at some good news. Not really news, more like good people. I discovered a new Instagram account this week. beverlymahone  She goes by Auntie Bev and she is retired journalist who has features a word of the day series on that site on TikTok. Word of the Day accounts are nothing new but she brings a new twist to it, calling out words that you may hear on the news and finding words that explain what you hear on the news.  For example, a word I did not know existed, but it does – trumpery. Looks good but is worthless. She also corrects misunderstandings about words, like when Donnie the Driveler claimed he made up the word “equalize,” reminding everyone that it’s been around since the 1500s. My kind of Word of the Day site.

I’ll see you with good news from this week on Thursday. Don’t go away!

Never can say goodbye

Michael 11 Comments

Yesterday was the 56th anniversary of the first manned moon landing. We can land a man on the moon but we still can’t come up with a good way to end a text message. It’s also the 58th anniversary of the first Special Olympics. And still after all this time I can’t come up with a good way to work that into a referene on the absence of a good way to end a text message. Then again on the other hand, we’v had text messages for 41 years old and I still can’t come up with a good way to end a text message. I think I have a texting dysfunction.(Technically texting is 33 years old. It was invented in 1984 but not first used until 1992. I guess they had a hard time coming up with a good way to say hello.)

Having been born and raised in the telephone era, the transition to short messaging systems has been long and difficult. All these abbreviations and pictures with no punctuation. Anarchy I tell you!

To be very frank, I’m still not comfortable with the habit of just jumping into the conversation. No “Hello, how are you?” “Are you busy?” “Hey, s’up!” How do people think it’s appropriate to start off a conversation with “on my way,” or “be there soon,” or worst of all, “omw.” But having gotten beyond that I still can’t just stop. It’s like just getting out of— hmmm, its like sending a card that just says happy birthday and not signing it because the recipient should be able to figure it who it’s from by checking the postmark.

Closing a phone call is easy. “Bye,” Bye.” And you’re done. Messages seldom end that cutly and dryly. Oh, someone might get a “but” in but usually it’s as abrupt as it started and I’m not sure if they’re done so I poo back on and say something to see if they’re still there.  And so on and so on and son on.

You may need shaking your head and quietly chuckling over this, but I know it’s a problem, a real problem, and others experience it too. I know because I got into a text message conversation yesterday afternoon with another who couldn’t say goodbye and we finally got around to “hanging up” around 9:30 last night. It’s a good thing we don’t have to pay for those things individually anymore.

Different Strokes

Michael 9 Comments

Sometimes I think a lot about these posts and sometimes, okay most of the time, I just spout out whatever is ready to fall out of my brain into the virtual paper. Such a contrast to the work with the Uplift blog. We may have 3 or 4 of those written several weeks before posting. Still, it’s not unusual for some new things to be added closer to publish date. Also, still, it’s not usual that even after reading and re-reading it over and over, we miss an obvious typo or error in fact, last last week when we messed up on Juneteenth’s date. That’s not true, we know exactly the correct date. We mis-read the calendar.

All that is sort of a preface to this week’s post over there. It’s on how not only do we need others to reach our maximum humanity, sometimes, in fact often, we need some of those in our circle to be our opposites. Hold that thought and now add this. Over the weekend I saw a short video done by a record producer and why he thinks “God Only Knows” is the perfect song.

Now that I have you completely confused, let me explain.

We can all agree “God Only Knows” is a perfect song. Intricate harmonies, unique orchestration, surprising use of the French horn, recognizable but subtle baseline. But what makes all those things so memorable, so perfectly memorable, is that each component of the song – intro, verse, bridge, tag – has something that doesn’t belong. An odd inversion, a baseline off key to the melody, a raised fourth. Things that shouldn’t be there. If you take them away, it turns boring, just another song, another forgettable song.

The point is that we need the contrary pieces in life. We need the balance, the roundness, the fullness, that diverse thinking and background, and aspirations bring to our lives.

I could have changed this week’s Uplift to include some of that and between now and then I might, but I know you guys appreciate my weirder comparisons, so I figured this was a better thing to put out into the blogosphere here. So I did. But don’t forget to stop by the ROAMcare site this Wednesday to see the more conventional comparisons.

Short, true. Better than what I might have written considering what the indiot-in-chief has been doing this week. True again. You’re welcome.

7 Highly Successful Habits

Michael 12 Comments

I have always hated the seeming simplicity of the seventies self-help series. Truth be told, they were mostly from the 80s but I don’t get to use alteration often, so I fudged it. You know the ones I mean. The One Minute Manager, Seven Habits off Highly Effective Name Your Interest Group, The Four Hour Work Week. Mind you, they were transformative and had, and still have great insights, but taken literally you will be a lousy manager, rather ineffective, and likely out of work.

But I found a simplistic approach to life that really can be done in 7 steps, in a matter of minutes, and have oodles of hours leftover for balancing all the life you want. And I found it on the Internet. On social media even! The seven things one must master to become an adult. It was actually one of those cutesy images and its title was ‘7 Habits Every Child Needs to Learn Before They Move Out.’

I have a feeling that the person who posted it might have been holding tongue somewhat tightly to the inside of check, yet still it is the best expression of satisfied human needs since Mazlov drew his pyramid. It is truly to road map and/or GPS directions to a fully fulfilled human type person, stupendous in its simplicity. Unfortunately, I estimate 99.7% of the people out there never mastered, mayhaps never attempted, Habit #7.

What are these magical machinations fledgling humans should be attempting?

1.        Do your laundry. Okay, this was written as what young adults need to learn before moving out of Mommy’s house, but I tell you I know people who do not do their laundry. Grown up people of both sexes and/or genders still transporting bags of laundry from their apartment to parents’ laundry room. And others who use laundry services. This isn’t New York City I live where apartments may or may not have adequate laundering facilities. This is the ‘burbs where washer/dryer combinations are status symbols. Learn to wash you own clothes.

2.        Cook simple meals. I think most semi-adults can pull this off. It might be three different kinds of eggs but I’m willing to go out in a limb and say we got this one. Frozen pizza does not count.

3.        Manage a budget. I’m quite convinced there are too many folks to count who cannot balance a budget. I’d say balance a checkbook but I’m not sure how many people still use a checkbook. If people were good at managing money, why would we be so concerned about needing an account without overdraft fees? I firmly believe banks have gone way the frack overboard with fees of all sorts, but “As long as the machine still takes my debit card, I still have money,” is not a financial plan.

4.        Keep your place clean. I’m not at all against cleaning services. If you can afford a maid, have at it, but know how to handle the basics.

5.        Know how to make appointments. Again, I think most of us can do this. You gotta have one or two gimmes.

6.        Basic maintenance. Yes, the “Check Engine” light means something. Yes, you too might need to work a plunger, and those lightbulbs are not lifetime regardless of what the package says. I’d say this is another gimme.

But now, here we hit the one thing that I think too many adults who have been on their own for decades still cannot figure out, especially those with part time jobs in Washington, DC.

7.        Take responsibility. Need I say more?

Have a happy week!

Not so famous last words

Michael 11 Comments

There are entire books of famous last words. Most of them are famous solely because they were said by famous people rather than being famous because they were profound. There are some that are a little of both. Benjamin Franklin’s last words were, “A dying man can do nothing easy.” The back story – that was in response to his daughter telling him to turn over in bed so he can breathe more easily. Sort of profound on its own. Now that you know the story behind it, it sounds like something I’d say!

Anyway, most last words will never be remembered by someone other than to whom they were spoken, except for last words you see and hear every day.

An exceptionally famous set of last words seldom seen today, was de rigueur in a different century, early in a different century, was “the end,” seen on the last page of every book and last card of every movie.

Other last words often more memorable are the last words you see when that car passes you on the highway and you get a look at their license plate, license plate frame, or bumper sticker. There are some pretty clever examples of two of the above specifies at the links noted. I’ve not yet succumbed to a vanity license plate although the frame I have around the classic plate on Rosemary the Little Red Car reads, “Aged to Perfection. Old Guys Rule!”

I saw an interesting sight just yesterday that I had heard of but never had seen in the wild with my own eyes. A Tesla car with its stylized “T” removed and replaced with a lightning bolt. Not quite a last word but a lasting impression.

A particular type of last word I have a difficult time with is the one to end a text message conversation. Not a quick message like “on my way.” That doesn’t even require an answer. But the conversations that go back and forth for a while, the things that have taken the place of phone calls. Phone calls were easy to end. The last word typically was a simple “bye” plus or minus a dear, hon, or second bye. An e-mail’s last words are like any other correspondence. But a text message. No good way out of that and when you usually decide on a last word, it’s more likely an emoji.

Now I’m not sure what kind of last words would be best to tack on the end of these words. I think I’ll steal Michael Landon’s last words. On his deathbed, his son said to him, “I think it’s time to move on.” Landon’s reply – “You’re right. It’s time. I love you all.” Actually, it’s his last, last words that mean the most. I love you all.