Tag Humor

Prepping for Phil

Michael Leave a comment
 

Phil

Happy Groundhog Day Eve! I’m not gong to try to post links of all the GHD related posts I’ve written.  There aren’t enough electrons and bits or E-ink or whatever makes things visible on these screens to do that.  Trust me that there have been a bunch and you can search for them, even the one that actually is moderately educational. Okay, so there is one link for you.

 
Here’s another link for you. You see, unlike some of the more “intelligent life” on this planet, Punxsutawney Phil knows the danger of going out in crowded conditions and is encouraging everybody to celebrate his coming out for 2021 remotely. You can see him accurately predict the coming of this spring livestream on the Visit PA site starting at 6:30 am EST, Tuesday, February 2. (My prediction is six more weeks of winter.)
 
Come back here tomorrow for a special Groundhog Day  post, Real Reality style, 2021 edition.
 

Number Please

Michael Leave a comment
Something the pandemic and its quarantines, closures, restrictions, and general craziness did not change for me is banking. Like many I rarely go to the bank, often carry no cash. I’ve been in that habit though for years. I was a direct deposit pioneer. The last time I saw an actual pay check was in the 1978. Maybe 77. It’s been almost as long since I’ve written an actual check. Housing or car payments were auto-drafted as we called it in the 80s since the 80s. Other payments went on automatic by the end of the 1900s. Over the last 20 years I’ve been inside a bank maybe once a year and have not written a check or used any other non electronic payment for a monthly bill, except one. Ugh! And this year’s trip to the bank?  Double Ugh!
 
For some reason my prescription drug plan does not have a working on line bill paying option. They claim to have one. Their website menu has an option for one. The monthly paperless statement even includes a link to one. Lies! All lies!  Well … Perhaps semi-lies. They have the option but not a working option. When I am lucky(?) enough to speak with a support someone about it I am told the system is down (indeed it is)  but will be available again soon (it never is)  and I am left with the choice of either “pay by phone” or write a check. I detest phone paying services but I destester sending a check. Actually not so much the sending as the remembering to send a check early enough that it gets to them by the due date. 
 
Pay by phone services have not improved since their days as the darlings of paperless payment service in the 1990s. The problem with pay by phone is that you do not have the option to enter a number and review it for accuracy before “sending” it. Each press of a button seals its fate as part of your entry. And there are a lot of numbers. Account number, the famous SSN last four, ZIP Code, payment type, payment account numbers, payment amount, and the *, #, $, and / in between (or not). An incorrect push of any button sends you back to the beginning.  Let’s not forget the “Press1 for Yes, 2 for No” between each entry. Ugh.  
 
They may have regressed when they instituted voice non-recognition. Oh, they can tell the difference between a letter “O” and the number “0” a long a you call “0” zero. Often you have to wait for the entire question before saying your answer even when the question is “If this is correct say yes, if it is not say no” which is asked after every entry. Say yes too soon and you’re back at the beginning again. Then there is the annoying habit of switching to keypad entries at random points of the call. Ugh. 
 
Unlike computer or app payment services, there is no written confirmation of the transaction to either email or messages. In its place is the Confirmation  Number that could be 10 digits, maybe 15, possibly 25, spoken either very slowly with options to repeat it or at the speed of the world’s first talker once and then it disconnects. Ugh. 
 
Next year I’m doing auto-pay!
 
Now that bank story. Oh, maybe we’ll save it for another day. 
 
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The Name Game

Michael Leave a comment
It’s been said a mind is a terrible thing to waste. I think mine is a lost cause. Yesterday while on the Internet searching for new phone providers (ugh) and a reasonable way to make sweet potato fries crispy (1400 degree oil and then only if it’s the third full moon of the month), I wandered into requirements for establishing a non-profit foundation (there are a lot!), a discussion if malpractice insurance should be considered if you’re retired but still doing volunteer work (yes, because lawyers), whatever became of blonde furniture (it’s still out there but is really expensive), and the top selections for baby names in the 1950s.
 
HMNIMaybe it is because I am a child of the 50s but those names were sort of boring. I mean they weren’t. ad names, still aren’t, but except for Robyn with a “y” on the girls side and Ian for the boys, there are no names that make you scratch your head and go hmmm. If you were in elementary school in the 60s these were your classmates. I had at least one of each at my 6th grade graduation. Except for poor Ian. No Ian.
 
What I found interesting is that although these were and still are good, strong names, they have all disappeared. The number one girls name in the 50s didn’t make the top ten in any of the remaining 20th century decades. It took until 80s for the boys mid-century leader to fall off the board and by then only 2 of the top ten 1950s names remained on the list at all. By the 90s only one boys name from the 50s top ten lost remained. The girls names faired even more poorly. Just one decade later there were onIy two repeaters in the top ten and they both were gone by the 70s.
 
By the time the I had poured over those lists of names curiosity got the better of me. In addition to wondering whatever because of Jennifer I also wondered what are today’s parents calling their children. I pulled up the Social Security website and searched for the latest complete year of given names. If you’ve not been to ssa.gov you should spend some time there. They do more than issue the nine digit ID numbers so sought after on the dark web. There I found the top ten lists of baby names for last year. No surprises. They are different but the same. Good strong names but no shockers. I am sure in sixty years or so those children will wonder what became of classmates they will be meeting for the first time a few years from now. 
 
There is one surprise. William, the number 8 most popular boys name in the 1950s who never showed up on another list from the 19-anythings is back. I wonder if he will blaze a trail for the other 19 to follow. Even Ian.
 
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Come on ev’rybody, I say now let’s play a game

I betcha I can make a rhyme out of anybody’s name

The first letter of the name

I treat it like it wasn’t there

But a “B” or an “F” or an “M” will appear

And then I say “Bo” add a “B” then I say the name

Then “Bo-na-na fanna” and “fo”

And then I say the name again with an “”f” very plain

Then “fee fi” and a “mo”

And then I say the name again with an “M” this time

And there isn’t any name that I can’t rhyme

Ian! Ian, Ian bo-be-nan

Bo-na-na, fanna fo-fe-nan

Fee fi mo-me-man. Ian!

Shirley Ellis

A Gift of Time

Michael 2 Comments
 

I intended to post this last Monday but I instead did a mini tribute for Sean Connery. So, it may be a few days late but still timely. (Timely! Get it, timely. Hahahaa, oh I crack myself up!

—–

They say time marches on. They also say we should adjust our time twice a year. Did you remember to change your clocks before you turned in Saturday night or did you arrive everywhere an hour late on Sunday? Or would that have been an hour early? “They” tell us to do these things and we do, not often thinking of the consequence if we don’t because we never don’t.

In the grand scheme of things our time here is not terribly important. The world has been around for 4.5 billion years. Man has inhabited it for 200,000 of those. That’s about 0.0044%. Not statistically significant. But humans don’t think in terms of the grand scheme. We consider every hour precious and when we’re told to give one back, like we were last April, we spend days complaining about the hour we lost. It becomes the excuse for all time related failures. “I was late for work because I had to set the clock ahead last Saturday.” But this “Last Saturday” we were given a gift of an hour. For one hour on Sunday morning we got a redo. We had the chance to relive an hour of our lives. What did you do with your gift? If you just slept it away you’re probably in good company as I’m sure that was how many spent their time.

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I’ve never made a true study of it but I would not doubt that “If I had to do it all over again … ” is one of the most oft uttered phrases in the English language and no doubt its equivalent in all the others. (Except maybe Esperanto. Well, it sounded like a good idea to somebody.) (Esperanto that is, not uttering “If I had to do it over again.” That doesn’t just sound like a good idea, it is a good idea.) (The phrase, not Esperanto.) (Sheesh!) I also don’t doubt that most people end that with “… I’d do the same thing.” It sounds like such a good idea. It is such a good idea! It’s such a good idea the golf people gave it a name – a Mulligan. It’s such a good idea don’t hold it against the golf people for coming up with such a stupid name. It’s such a good idea kids in the playground gave it a name too, a good name. A do over. It’s such a good idea, the world gifted us with twenty-four additional extra hours this year. Imagine all the things you might have redone with an extra day. (And that day came before most of the real Covid Craziness!) Imagine an extra day trip, an extra day to vacation, or an extra day on the slopes or on the beach depending on your personal preference. 

Or would you use an extra day as an opportunity to spend a day volunteering instead of selfishing. I’ll go closer to the end of the limb and say that thought probably doesn’t come up often. Maybe that’s why if presented an opportunity to do it all over again we profess to rather not changing anything. Maybe it has been so hard to get where we are we don’t want to take a chance on doing it differently. Or maybe we’re just plain old selfish.

The next time you wonder if you had to it all over again, if that opportunity to relive an hour of your life were to come again, would you do anything different? You’ll get your chance again about a year from now. Think about that that the next time you wish you had a do over.

 
 

Why did the turkey cross the road?

Michael 4 Comments
Driving around here you might see just about anything on the road. Still, when a large turkey led a group of 3 others from one side of the road to the other that I happened to be motoring my way along one morning last week, the first thought I had was “hmm, turkeys.” The second thought was “Oh shit, she’s fast!” (I didn’t have time to consider all the possible gender permutations and for birds, those probably still stop at two) when this one wasted no time strolling over to my open window to see what that crazy human was doing stopped in the middle of where they wanted to walk and what was that thing I was aiming at her. (Or him.)
 
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After I got the window rolled up and the car back in gear and moving cautiously around the mini-brood I had my third thought. Why were the turkeys crossing the road? Why were they leaving the confines of high brush and much vegetation for the open back lot of a used car dealer? I didn’t think they were interested in a slightly used minivan but with turkeys who knows.
 
Some things I thought as the day wore on were:
 
They were released from a nearby turkey farm where the business was downsizing due to the anticipated lessened demand for turkeys, particularly the larger ones, this upcoming holiday season. Although … these seemed of the quite wild variety. Thus my next thought. 
 
They were visiting relatives still held captive at the nearby turkey farm and/or visiting said farm to attempt a release of said relatives due to the anticipated lessened demand for turkeys this upcoming holiday season.  But … that seemed somewhat implausible given that the average turkey is probably more intelligent than the average politician and therefore not given to such flights of fancy as to believe she (or he) (it?) could out talk a farmer, or talk a farmer out of a herd of turkeys. Herd? Flock? Bunch! On to the next thought. 
 
They were off to the large mega mart further up the road in the direction of their travel to take advantage of the discounted pricing of the fall version wrapper of snacks and candies to make way for the winter version wrapper for snacks and candies and in particular to score big on candy corn which has no winter equivalent. Then I realized I was on to something indeed! My final thought.
 
Why did the turkeys cross the road? To get to the candy corn! That perfect, super food that tastes better than kale and doesn’t stain like blueberries with it’s own holiday that’s not Halloween or Thanksgiving. (I know that’s all true because I read it on the Internet not just a year ago. In fact I know that’s true because I wrote it and posted it to the internet not just a year ago. All except the blueberry part. That’s new for this year. Always improving!)
 
So this Friday when you’re looking for something to celebrate other than the impending short reprieve of political ads, National Candy Corn Day is October 30 this year and every year. If you’re one of the weirdos who isn’t a fan of candy corn, cross the road and bring some to me. I’ll be busy looking up small turkey meal plans.
 
Gobble gobble!
 
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Time Out!

Michael 4 Comments
“I have to go, I’m running late. Actually I’m running in time. You know what I mean.” And my daughter knew exactly. If you’re on time, you’re late. That was a snippet of a conversation before I set off for a doctor’s appointment this morning. Even in these days of reduced time and extra spacing in the waiting room, and for some doctors not even opening the waiting room but waiting in the parking lot, I tend to budget my travel time for a 15 minutes early arrival.
 
Unfortunately my drive time estimating skills are not that good. I plan with the help of four travel windows. Anything within the neighborhood is 15 minutes. If the destination is on my side of town it’s a 30 minute drive. Across town or into a neighboring county and I plan for 60 minutes on the road. Anything farther away than that I take a snack, several bottles of water, stop to fill up the gas tank, and in winter check that the tire chains are in the trunk. Most times this admittedly somewhat bizarre approach has served me well. I’m usually at my destination somewhere within those extra 15 minutes and when I’m outside the window it is almost always with more than 15 minutes to spare. That’s okay, I don’t mind waiting. Then are days like today.
 
The drive to the physician’s office for today’s visit is a legitimate 35 minute drive but it’s on this side of town and thus gets the 30 minute travel window. Hey, I don’t make the rules – well, okay, maybe, um, uh. 
 
StopwatchSo I set off on my 30 minute drive and everything was going fine. Just because I was only a quarter of the way there and I used up 20 of those minutes was no reason to panic. I hadn’t hit the 4 lane highways yet. I could make up that time. And I did. Sort of. I got onto the highway and with one eye on the dash clock, one on the speedometer, one on the road and another on the rear view mirror, I watched my way all the way to the parking lot only 10 minutes late which was still 5 minutes early so I wasn’t on time but I was doing fine. I pulled into a spot, strapped on my mask, tripped over the door sill thingy or whatever it’s called on a car, hit the lock button, rescued the keys from inside, hit the lock about again, and marched to the door. Whew! 
 
And there I read, “To minimize contact in the waiting area please do not enter until 5 minutes before your scheduled appointment time.” 
 
Ah…right on time!
 
 

The TV Dinner and the Hot Dog

Michael 4 Comments
ASSISTANT DIRECTOR: Places everybody. I’d say let’s get this down in one take but that ship sailed 14 takes ago. Hot Dog, wipe that mustard off your face. Again! And somebody mop the sweat off TV Dinner or it’s back in the freezer. Ok, we’re ready. Roll sound! Roll camera!
 
DIRECTOR: Action!
 
HOT DOG: Happy National Hot Day Day! That’s September 10 to you commoners.
 
TV DINNER: But it’s supposed to be my day, TV Dinner Day. You already had Hot Dog Day on the third Wednesday of July, July 22 this year actually. Today is…
 
HOT DOG: Yes, yes, today is National Hot Dog Day! The hot dog is the greatest food in the world, in the entire universe, and deserves two days. In fact we deserve 2 days every month, every week even! You can never have too many hot dogs! Who wants a nutritionally wimpy salt and fat explosion of bad taste that makes airplane food seem gourmet? You can’t even decide how to dress. You started out all shiny in those aluminum trays with bright aluminum foil covers and look at you now, boxed up in black plastic with that chintzy see through top. Now a hot dog hasn’t changed in four billion years because we were born perfect! 
 
TV DINNER: That’s not true! To begin with you weren’t invented until the 1870’s and didn’t become popular until 50 years after that. Based on a flash freezing process developed in the 1920s TV dinners hit the streets running in 1954 and never lost momentum. And we can be very healthy. It depends on what you pick. A frozen meatloaf with mash potatoes and gravy might have a little more salt and fat than recommended but a baked chicken with broccoli or vegetable lasagna are solid, healthy dinner choices. TV Dinners satisfy whatever mood you’re in. We are what you make of us.
 
HOT DOG: I’ll tell you what I can make of you. Garbage! Look at all that packaging. Waste, waste, waste. A hot dog is all food. And were portable. You won’t find a vendor at the ball yard hawking frozen dinners. You’re called TV Dinners because after somebody gorges on a box of you all they’re good for the rest of the night is watching TV. Hot Dogs on the other hand are the food of the fit. That’s why were at every sporting event around the world! Now go crawl back into the freezer and let me celebrate like the winner that I am!
 
TV DINNER: I think what you’re saying is wrong. Just because you are sold at ball games doesn’t make hot dogs nutritious. Nachos are big at sporting events and you really don’t believe melted cheese on salty chips is good for you.
 
HOT DOG: Oh baby do I love melted cheese! I look fabulous with that gooey yellow goodness oozing out of the ends of my bun. It gives me shivers just to think how much healthier I am with a layer of cheese and maybe even chili too.
 
TV DINNER: Healthier? Are you cra…… No, no, I mustn’t be like that. It might not be fair but if you really believe you need two days I’ll share mine with you. I’d rather give a little and live long and in peace than to spend what little time we have arguing about who is better when we know deep down it takes all of us to make a kitchen full and happy.
 
TVDinnerDogVOICE OVER: Be like the TV Dinner and make the best out of the situations over which you have no control. Don’t fall into the trap of believing the world can’t live without you and you deserve everything you can get. Don’t be a hot dog. Be a winner, winner, frozenchicken dinner.
 
DIRECTOR: Cut! Good work everybody. Thank you
 
ASSISTANT DIRECTOR:  Thank you all. Leave your costumes in the dressing area and check the board for up coming food spots. If you’re interested, have your agents call now.
 
DIRECTOR: We’re doing good stuff here. Let’s eat. I have a taste for one of those little frozen apple desserts. How about you?
 
 
 

Welcome Mat to my World

Michael 2 Comments
In a world where brevity is so important that people abbreviate three letter words (for example, “1 C bread flour or all purpose flour,” come on, if you’re going to go through the whole “bread or all purpose flour” bit in your recipe you can spell out CUP (sheesh)) it is no wonder some people distill their entire life philosophies onto license plates. So much so that I managed to expand those abbreviated thoughts into several thousand words over five posts, Walls O’ Wisdom, UDNTSAY, Mobile Philosophy, Writing on the Walls, and T(-Shirt) is for Thinking. (All good stuff by the way. You should call them up and read or read again if you’re so inclined and I should say you should be.) Maybe it’s been going on for ages but I only recently discovered another outlet for the “let me tell you about my life” crowd, the welcome mat.
 
I’ve had welcome mats all my life and most of them have said something, not surprisingly usually “WELCOME.” Around the holidays I often replace that with others that sport fallen leaves, Christmas scenes or Easter Bunnies, but by and large the message outside my door is “Hi, come on it” even if not in so many words. Apparently there are people  who will make a mat that says just that in just that many words and much else. 
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Living in a townhouse community where most front doors are right there off the main sidewalk, my morning walks through the neighborhood expose me to what people put on and about their front doors. Mostly I admire the wreaths and door adornments but today I focused on the foot of the doors (foots of the doors? feet of the doors? bottoms of the doors!) What I saw there was a wide array of sentiment from “Dogs Welcomed/People Tolerated” to “Wipe Your Feet!” to “Please Hide Packages From Husband.” Out of 50 or 60 door mats I passed, only a handful, mine being one of those, bore the single word “WELCOME” although a good number boasted simliar sentiment like “Hello,” “Come In,” and one “Home Sweet Home.”
 
The mats that conveyed more complex feelings than “Hey, How Ya Doing” were the ones that got me thinking. Where do these all come from? Some I’ve seen in stores. The moronic, ironic “Go Away!” must have been a recent clearance item somewhere because I noted about a half dozen of those and I can’t imagine anybody paying full price whatever the price might be for that. But many had to be custom made, the aforementioned hide the package from hubby and another that had me giggling (I hope I remember the wording right), “If you ever want to see these people again bring five pounds of hamburger in a plain brown wrapper. Signed, The Dog.” Who thinks these things and then who turns those thoughts into 18 x 30 inches of foot level text. I have to find out because I think (some of) these people are brilliant. 
 
Some of my favorites including what I dubbed the Hubby and Dog mats were “Run While You Still Can,” “Hi, I’m Mat,” “What are you looking at?” and “Get Your Feet Off Me!” I give special tribute to those with the most welcoming message of all, those who know some people are just as happy to leave, to wit:
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Shopping Math Revisited

Michael Leave a comment
In the past I bemoaned the lack of government oversight for toilet paper roll sizing and the resultant consternation from attempting to determine which is the better deal, the 9 mega-rolls of 438 sheets per roll or the 12 double-rolls of 306 sheets per roll if your coupon covers the mega-roll multipak but not the megapak of double rolls, super soft but not super strong. (If you don’t recall that discussion it may be beneficial to review it here.) You would think the turmoil of the TPS (toilet paper shortage) we experienced at the beginning of the CoViD crisis (heretofore referred to as the CVTPS) would have solidified the need for regulatory intervention. Instead the situation has worsened. Regardez vous:
 
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As they would say in France, sacred blue! Maybe not, what do I know, I haven’t used French since high school when things were neat, people keen, and we said “ah, gee,” a lot. The point is, those tubes are both from rolls of toilet paper, not from the same package, but of the same brand. Same iteration also, double-roll ultra soft, and purchashed from the same store. The difference? One, represented by the longer roll, was part of a 4 roll pack which is plenty for a single person with limited storage space. The other shorter roll is from an all that was available 24 roll pack more likely to go home with a family of 6, somebody looking to fill storage space in the unused corner of the garage, or a single person whose diet is chiefly canned chili and beer, probably home brew. 
 
I wish I could tell you more but I had already discarded the wrapping from the “long roll,” “double roll” is no longer an adequate modifier, and only had both emptied rolls show up side by side because my daughter has a dog and I have a poor memory. I can see some of you are puzzled. Well, you take some small dog treats or bits of kibble, pour them into the tube, crimp or fold the ends, then let the dog puzzle how to get to the treats on his or her own. Yes, it is awkward construction but “they” is plural no matter what which style book says otherwise. Oh, the roll? No that’s not at all awkward. It’s quite fun for the dog and can keep it (the dog) (quite appropriate for animals even if somewhat cold) occupied for from seconds to hours (okay, almost always seconds). However, because the makeshift treat holder is destroyed in the game a constant supply of emptied rolls is necessary once the dog becomes hooked on the fun. As daughter and I each have a diet consisting of all the major food groups, neither of us are buried under a mountain of emptied cardboard tubes. Often I forget to pass along those I have saved and end up with 2 or 3 of them hanging out with my full rolls. There they undoubtedly regale those rolls of unused sheets yet to be wrestled from their plastic encased world of tales of adventures yet to come on their journeys from closet to holder to spinner to… but I digress. 
 
Now armed with this new knowledge, shopping will be even more mentally laborious. No longer is simple arithmetic comparing sheets per roll to rolls per pack to price adequate to determine value in the paper products aisles of the mega marts of the world. Square footage (which I previously wondered why it was included on the package label) has to be considered if one expects to maximize our constantly weakening purchasing power. Now we must be armed with the ability to solve simultaneous equations, something I haven’t done since the advent of multifunction calculators. No longer is shopping math missing from the core curricula of American education. No, now we need … Shopping Calculus! 
 
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