De' fliengde Vuogtlänn'r

Leave It To Bieber

2011-12-23T10:12:00.001-05:00

Here's a quick quiz:

In 10 seconds, name 3 famous baritone singers.

Couldn't do it, could you? I'm not surprised.

Lately, it seems that all the famous male "singers" sound like they're still in junior high school.

What's this world coming to?

Overheard In The Temple

2011-12-20T12:12:00.001-05:00

Overheard in the Atlanta Temple:

Temple Worker (to a man seated by himself on the end of a row):

"Are you waiting for your wife?"

Temple Patron:

"N... Uh, yeah actually. For some years now."

(I disavow any knowledge as to who that brother was.)

Bah! Humbug!

2011-12-13T11:05:00.001-05:00

I love Christ, but I hate Chri$tma$.

"If I could work my will, every fool who goes about with ('Happy Holidays') on his lips would be boiled in his own pudding and buried with a stake of holly through his heart."

/Ebenezer Scrooge

"Happy Holidays", indeed! Merry Christmas.

Cowboy Wisdom

2011-11-29T12:53:00.001-05:00

Your fences need to be horse-high, pig-tight, and bull-strong.

Keep skunks, bankers, and lawyers at a distance.

Life is simpler when you plow around the stump.

Words that soak into your ears are whispered, not yelled.

Meanness don' just happen overnight.

Forgive your enemies. It messes up their heads.

Never corner something that you know is meaner than you.

It don't take a very big person to carry a grudge.

You cannot unsay a cruel word.

Every path has a few puddles.

When you wallow with pigs, expect to get dirty.

The best sermons are lived, not preached.

Most of the stuff people worry about never happens anyway.

Don't judge folks by their relatives.

Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer.

Live a good, honorable life. Then, when you get older and think back, you can enjoy it a second time.

Never mess with something that ain't bothering you.

Timing has a lot to do with the outcome of a rain dance.

If you find yourself in a hole, the first thing do to is stop digging.

Sometimes you get, and sometimes you get got.

There are no winners in a jalapeño-eating contest.

The biggest troublemaker you'll probably ever have to deal with, watches you from the mirror every morning.

Good judgement comes from experience, and a lot of that comes from poor judgement.

Lettin' the cat out of the bag is a whole lot easier than puttin' it back in.

If you think you're a person with influence, try bossin' someone else's dog around.

Something I Did Not Know

2011-08-05T11:53:00.004-05:00

That little tree in the picture is called a "stink palm" locally. I have no idea what its proper name is, but the nickname certainly fits. I remember them from when I was a kid, more years ago than I care to admit to. And I don't like them any more now than I did back then. When cut -- or when branches are snapped off -- they emit a really foul smell. If I owned a piece of propery and found any of them growing there, I'd cut 'em down in a heartbeat.

It is said that every cloud has a silver lining. The silver lining to this one is that when the stink palms are grown much larger, the wood of the trunk makes a mighty fine bow. Maybe I'll let one grow and try that out.

Kid Fun

2011-05-12T11:45:00.000-05:00

(Hat tip to my friend Laura for this one.)

Whilst waiting for uploads, downloads, updates, downdates, inputs, outputs, throughputs, shot puts and all the rest, I got to roaming around cyberspace and somehow landed on my friend Laura's blog. (In keeping with standard Netiquette, I won't link to it w/o her permission.)

This one line caught my attention, big-time:

"I think there's something wrong with a society that says you can only do fun things if you're a little kid."

Oh, ain't that the truth. Notwithstanding my recent foray into climbing over 6' chain link fences (another reason my family now has to dislike the stupid things), I've always gotten a charge out of doing things that "adults" are "not supposed" to do.

I've even blogged about something in this vein before.

Like the time I was working as an aide in the computer lab and answered the phone: "Frank's Bar & Grill. Your dime; my time. Start talkin'."

Or the time I got scolded for leaving a "memo" in all the distro boxes at Maxwell. (Got my hand slapped for that one.)

I even got chastised for linking to the log-out page on LinkUp so people would have to log back in after they click on it.

There are other things I could dredge up out of my memory, but I digress.

Someone once said "We don't stop laughing because we grow old. We grow old because we stop laughing." This is so true. Much of the problem with our "modern" society is that we've turned into a bunch of stuffed shirts, unable to laugh at much of anything. Where's Red Skelton when we need him?

One of these days, I've got to get out to Utahrdia and look Laura up. Somehow, I just know that there's a huge fountain in Salt Lake that's in dire need of a couple of bottles of laundry detergent. :-]

More Movie Fun

2011-05-12T11:43:00.000-05:00

This grew out of a contest in the Washington Pest back in '02. I've added to the list over the years, but I'm too lazy to go back and see if I'd already posted this.

The contest was to change on word in a movie title and come up with a whole new synopsis. (In one case, I didn't even need to change the title.)

"Fahrenheit 450"
Futuristic book-burners just can't seem to get the bonfires going.

"How Green Was My Valley?"
Aging Welsh miner develops amnesia.

"Fear and Loafing in Las Vegas"
Indolent casino workers worry about keeping their jobs.

"Diet Hard"
Bruce Willis spends his entire Christmas vacation trying to get his weight down.

"The Bitches of Madison County"
Photographer Eastwood just can't seem to get women to pose for him.

"Never on Saturday"
Intellectual boob travels from Greece to Israel, links up with earthy prostitute.

"Where the Boys Aren't"
Connie Francis, Yvette Mimieux and the gang mistakenly spend spring break at the wrong beach.

"Lost Remake of Beau Geste"
Overlooked re-do of the classic is found in the archives.

"Fletch Live!"
Bumbling reporter with multiple-personality disorder tries his hand at stand-up comedy.

"Once Upon a Time in the East"
Hired killer seeks to eliminate landowner blocking extension of highway.

"That's Entertainment?"
Hollywood stars host a trashfest of movies they can't stand.

"Lady Chatterly's Liver"
Years of debauched living finally catch up with m'lady.

"Realty Bites"
Wynona Ryder agonizes over her life as a real estate agent.

"Laws"
Rogue attorney terrorizes beach-goers.

"Lust of the Mohicans"
Madeleine Stowe starts a few rivalries in the Maine woods.

"Jack the Rapper"
No-talent "singer" terrorizes London.

"Magnum Farce"
Eastwood lightens up with this spoof of cop movies.

"Thirteen Angry Men"
The judge gets mighty upset when the jury's deliberations drag on.

"Pleasure of the Sierra Madre"
Bogey and crew give up prospecting for gold, open tourist brothel instead.

"Rebel Without a Clue"
Teenager tries to escape life of delinquency when his family moves to a new town, but he can't quite figure out how to fit in.

"Shaft's Big Scare!"
Even the toughest private eye has his limits when he gets tangled up with the underworld.

"To Grill A Mockingbird"
A Southern lawyer throws a celebratory BBQ after winning a landmark case.

... and my personal favorite:
"I Married a Mobster From Outer Space"
Gorgeous Gloria Talbott begins to have doubts about her pin-stripe-suited husband from the planet Debronks when he'd rather spend more time with his cauliflower-eared buddies than with her.

What I've Learned From The Movies

2011-05-12T11:37:00.000-05:00

Everything I ever needed to know, I learned at the movies:

1. Large, loft-style apartments in New York City are well within the price range of most people -- whether they are employed or not.

2. At least one of a pair of identical twins is born evil.

3. Should you decide to defuse a bomb, don't worry which wire to cut. You will always choose the right one.

4. Most laptop computers are powerful enough to override the communications system of any invading alien society.

5. Things always end tragically for a troubled young loner named Johnny.

6. When you turn out the light to go to bed, everything in your bedroom will still be clearly visible, just slightly bluish.

7. If you are blonde and pretty, it is possible to become a world expert on nuclear fission at the age of 22.

8. Honest and hard-working policemen are traditionally gunned down three days before their retirement.

9. Rather than wasting bullets, megalomaniacs prefer to kill their arch-enemies using complicated machinery involving fuses, pulley systems, deadly gasses, lasers, and man-eating sharks, which will allow their captives at least 20 minutes to escape.

10. During all police investigations, it will be necessary to visit a strip club at least once.

11. All beds have special L-shaped cover sheets that reach up to the armpit level on a woman, but only to waist level on the man lying beside her.

12. All grocery shopping bags contain at least one stick of French bread.

13. It's easy for anyone to land a plane, provided there is someone in the control tower to talk you down.

14. Once applied, lipstick will never rub off -- even while scuba diving.

15. You're very likely to survive any battle in any war unless you make the mistake of showing someone a picture of your sweetheart back home.

16. Should you wish to pass yourself off as a German or Russian officer, it will not be necessary to speak the language. A German or Russian accent will do. (It used to be an English accent for the Germans.)

17. The Eiffel Tower can be seen from any window in Paris.

18. A man will show no pain while taking the most ferocious beating, but will wince when a woman tries to clean his wounds.

19. If a large pane of glass is visible, someone will be thrown through it before long.

20. If staying in a haunted house, women will investigate any strange noises in their most revealing underwear.

21. Word processors never display a cursor on screen but will always say: >Enter Password Now.

22. Even when driving down a perfectly straight road, it is necessary to turn the steering wheel vigorously from left to right every few moments.

23. All bombs are fitted with electronic timing devices with large red read-outs so you know exactly when they're going to go off.

24. A detective can only solve a case once he has been suspended from duty.

25. If you decide to start dancing in the street, everyone you meet will know all the steps.

26. Police departments give their officers personality tests to make sure they are deliberately assigned a partner who is their total opposite.

27. Non-fatal bullet wounds heal completely within 48 hours.

28. Women in high heels can outrun men in Nikes.

29. Even in New York and L.A., there's always a handy parking space.

30. The average person is completely incapable of distinguishing gun shots from a car backfiring.

31. It's impossible for the viewers to know that there's a baby in the scene, unless it's squawling at the top of its lungs.

32. Surveillance cameras in banks and stores are capable of filming the action from every conceivable angle simultaneously.

33. Unlike your VCR, all other VCRs in the world play the sound back at high speed during fast-forward.

34. All Hispanic women are named "Maria"; all German men are named "Hans".

35. The presence of a baby can turn otherwise normal human beings into blithering idiots.

36. The only song that piano players in the Old West knew was "Camptown Races".

37. Fresh towels will be delivered to your hotel room within 15 minutes of check-in, and four times a day after that.

Why I'm Not Married

2011-05-03T09:23:00.001-05:00

It's always interesting, how a couple of random ideas can rattle around in one's head and combine themselves into a whole new idea.

A few weeks ago, in a Priesthood lesson on Charity, I made the comment that although we're commanded to love our neighbor, we're not commanded to like our neighbor. That alone would be grist enough for this mill, but.... combine that with:

- my previous post on marriage ;

-an observation I've repeated over the years to people to the effect that if you were to put all the women I've ever been seriously interested in in the same room, you'd go crazy trying to figure out their commonality*;

(*The one thing all those women I've been seriously interested in have in common is that they are all eminently likeable people. Despite all their physical, intellectual, emotional, and spiritual differences, I like them all.)

- the oft-repeated remark that most marriages fail because the two people stop loving each other (I think a lot of them fail because the two people stop liking each other); and

- the recently given advice from one of the Brethren that we should seek to marry someone we could serve for eternity...

and I guess I'm left looking for a likeable person I wouldn't mind serving for eternity. And she doesn't even have to be an orphan with no siblings.

The Storm Of The Century

2011-05-03T09:15:00.000-05:00

For those who might not have heard, we got one helluva storm come thru the Scenic City Wednesday. Hail the size of tennis balls in the eastern suburbs, straight-line winds in excess of 100 mph, lots of rain, and *LOTS* of damage. Oddly enough, the neighborhood where I live -- sheltered somewhat by a ridge -- got almost no damage. To the south, west, and around to the northeast of me, somewhere around 85,000 homes are without power; 146 power lines down. My power winked out briefly a couple of times, but recovered. Latest casualty count was 67.

The Red Cross has a Web site up to help people keep track of each other: http://www.RedCross.org/safeandwell (I'm not registered there, though.)

You can follow the whole story at http://wrcbtv.com

More updates later as necessary. Meanwhile, I'm OK.

My Bus Ride

2011-04-21T12:39:00.001-05:00

OK, so while I was still living in my previous Ward, I was traveling home from downtown one evening when these two quite attractive young women get on. (I'm older, but I'm not dead yet. I noticed.) I think to myself: "Niiiiiice...."

They sat facing away from me, so I couldn't get much of a look. But I liked what I saw. Sometime later, the bus pulls up at a stop and they get off the bus. Niiice.

As the bus pulls away from the stop, I turn to look. Niiice.

Then I saw 'em.

The black name tags.

I'm so goin' to Hell.

Why I'll Never Marry

2011-04-21T12:17:00.002-05:00

Recently, I had the opportunity to tour the newly renovated Atlanta Temple. It was a chilly but sunny day, and we had a picnic afterward. Notwithstanding my bum knee (I was afforded the use of a wheelchair), the tour was very enjoyable. A more beautiful building than a Temple would be impossible to find.

One of the last rooms we went thru was the Sealing Room, where marriages are performed for eternity rather than "'til death us do part". I remarked afterward that it was nice to see a Sealing Room on the tour, since that's the only time I'd ever get to see one.

Don't get me wrong. I could marry any woman I please. Problem is, I don't please any of 'em. Then, too, is the problem of all the d'rum und d'ran that surrounds marriages here in the USA. Despite the fact that only five people are needed to effect a legally recognized marriage, as the late Jimmy Durante used to say: "Everybody's gotta get in the act.". The end result is something more akin to a Ringling Bros. circus than a religious ceremony.

All the groom knows is that he's got to smile for the 10,000 cameras. So he stumbles around with a nervous tic, looking like a punch-drunk boxer and his "smile" looking like he just bit into an apple and found half a worm. The bride, meanwhile, has the heart rate of a hummingbird, her blood pressure is 540/320, and she hasn't blinked in three days.

I'll pass. Unless I can find an orphan with no siblings who doesn't mind the idea of eloping.

Note To Suzanne Somers

2011-01-24T12:51:00.003-05:00

Please drop those supercilious TV ads. The bloom is off the rose. You were never that much to begin with.

Thank you.

Something I Didn't Know This Morning

2010-11-09T19:31:00.002-05:00

No doubt you've seen those colored lines spray-painted on the streets and sidewalks and recognized right away that some sort of work was going to be done. This afternoon, I finally got a chance to satisfy my curiosity about them.

While waiting for the bus, I struck up a conversation with a contract utility worker who was working on those famous fibre-optic lines that are being installed here in the Scenic City, giving us the potential for 1GB through-put speeds. Turns out (as you might have guessed) there is a method to their madness. The colors are as follows:

Red -- electrical
Yellow -- gas
Blue -- water
White -- Sewage
Orange -- cable TV

And now you know.

Driving In Germany

2010-10-13T15:29:00.003-05:00

Having had more than enough occasion to observe American driving habits in Germany, it occurs to me that the average American simply does not understand the German concept of driving. An explanation is in order.

German driving is based on a very simple law of physics: no two objects can occupy the same space at the same time. However, as soon as any object ceases to occupy a given space, any other object is free to occupy it. This is why there are disk brakes on even the smallest of cars, thus allowing us to drive as far as possible as fast as possible into any open space.

Unfortunately, at intersections this can cause what is referred to as the Teutonic Four-Way Deadlock, which happens when all cars have moved as far as possible into the intersection, followed by more cars, none of which would even imagine backing up (it is against our nature, you see).

The most severe of these occurred during August of 1973 in Augsburg and lasted three days, seven hours and 42 minutes. There were three marriages, one divorce, and two children were born.

It ended only when the Bundeswehr brought in helicopters and lifted out the cars in the middle, thus freeing up the intersection.

Driving in Germany is still not for those with weak hearts, but I hope that this explains the why of it all and helps to reduce some of the criticism from "Amis" (Americans).

(Originally published as a Letter to the Editor from me in the Stars And Stripes on 24 September 1989.)

The Fork

2010-10-02T19:32:00.007-05:00

The earliest proto-fork was used by the ancient Egyptians, who worshipped it as a deity. Of course, the Egyptians worshipped darn near everything, so it was no big deal. It was really nothing more than a spoon with a spike on one end and was used for removing snails from their shells. This was far more efficient than those itty-bitty little eviction notices used by the Greeks. It was also used for removing ear wax until that practice was outlawed by the Egyptian Occupational Safety and Health Administration.

The fork makes its next appearance in ancient Rome, where it was not worshipped as a deity, having lost out to the knife. By this time, it had two tines, and was used mostly for removing that last olive from the jar. It was also put to good use in roads, making travel far easier, as up to this time all roads went to only one destination. This prompted the famous orator Yogius Berrius to declare "When you get to a fork in the road, take it."

By the Middle Ages, the fork had spread to Central Europe. Except Spain, where it was denounced as a heretic and burned at the stake. Early European forks are hard to find, as they were all stolen by the Goths and Vandals when they came to dinner and stayed for a few decades. When they discovered Europe was out of forks, they burned the place and left. The only forks left behind were the extra-large ones, which were used for digging tar at the tar pits and were known as "pitch forks".

Returning eastward, the Goths and Vandals took their summer vacation in what is now Russia, where the government declared that the fork had been known to the Russian peoples for millenia, as they had originally invented it, only to have it stolen by Western imperialists.

One of the forks was also left in Poland as a gift to King Wraklav the Stupid, who declared it to be utterly useless. Of course, he was using the wrong end, so it took a while for the fork to catch on there.

The earliest settlers to the Western Hemisphere brought the fork with them to the New World, where the Pilgrims amazed the Indians with their prowess at reaching across the table and spearing that last potato on the plate. This was pronounced to be a huge "no no" by Miss Manners, punishable by three days in the stocks. Unfortunately, as adept as they were at spearing food with it, the settlers were equally inept at actually using it to eat with, nervous as they were at the prospect of being raided at any moment by bands of jealous Indians. This led to numerous embarassing dining accidents, giving rise to the Indians' observation that "White Man speak with fork in tongue". It also led to the Indians laughing their butts off after dining with White settlers. Some scholars believe that the entire Thanksgiving thing was nothing more than a ploy by the Indians to have a good laugh at the expense of the settlers.

In modern times, the fork is still put to good use, having even been taken aboard the Space Shuttle, where it was used to repair the Hubble Space Telescope by pinning the hannenframmis to the franistan. As humans venture farther out into space, the fork will no doubt be along for the ride. Perhaps it will even be left with primitive civilizations along with a cheery "May the fork be with you!".

[This was written in March '97, subsequent to having lunch with some people I worked with at Travis AFB. Someone wondered aloud where the fork originated, with got my creative juices going. With predictable results.]

All I Need To Know About Life

2010-10-02T19:09:00.002-05:00

....I learned from cats.

Life is hard, then you nap.

Curiosity never killed anything except maybe a few hours.

When in doubt, cop an attitude.

Variety is the spice of life. One day ignore people, the next day annoy them.

Climb your way to the top. That's why the drapes are there.

Find your place in the sun. Especially if it happens to be on that pile of warm, clean laundry.

Make your mark in the world. Or at least spray in each corner.

When dining out, think nothing of sending your meal back 20 or 30 times.

If you're not getting enough attention, try knocking over several expensive antique lamps.

Always give generously -- a small bird or rodent left on the bed tells them "I care".

When you go out into the world, remember: being placed on a pedestal is a right, not a privilege.

Selecting A Programming Language

2010-09-17T15:57:00.001-05:00

Every craftsman knows that the secret to success lies in using the right tools. This is no less true for computer programmers. However, with such a large selection of programming languages, it can be difficult to choose the best one for a particular project. Reading the manuals to evaluate languages is a time-consuming process. On the other hand, most people already have a fairly good idea of how various automobiles compare. So, in order to assist those trying to choose a programming language, we have prepared a list that matches programming languages with automobiles.

Assembler: A Formula 1 race car. Very fast, but difficult to drive and expensive to maintain.

FORTRAN II: A Model T Ford. Once, it was king of the road.

FORTRAN IV: A Model A Ford.

COBOL: A delivery van. It's bulky and ugly, but it gets the job done.

BASIC: A second-hand Rambler with a rebuilt engine and patched upholstery. Your Dad bought it for you to learn to drive. You'll ditch it as soon as you can afford a new one.

PL/1: A Cadillac convertible with automatic transmission, a two-tone paint job, whitewall tires, chrome exhaust pipes, and fuzzy dice hanging from the rear-view mirror.

C: A black Firebird -- the all-macho car. Comes with optional seat belts (lint) and optional fuzz-buster (escape to Assembler).

ALGOL 60: An Austin Mini. Boy, that's a small car!

ALGOL 68: An Astin Martin. An impressive car, but not just anyone can drive it.

Pascal: A Volkswagen Beetle (old style). It's small, but sturdy. Was once popular with pseudo-intellectuals.

Modula II: A Volkswagen Rabbit with a trailer hitch.

LISP: An electric car. It's simple, but it's slow. Seat belts are not available.

PROLOG/LUCID: Prototype "concept" cars.

Maple/MACSYMA: All-terrain vehicles.

FORTH: A go-cart.

LOGO: A kiddie car replica of a Rolls-Royce. Comes with a real engine and working horn.

APL: A double-decker bus. It takes rows and columns of passengers to the same place, all at the same time. But it drives only in reverse gear, and is instrumented in Greek.

Ada: An Army-green Mercedes-Benz staff car. Power steering, power brakes, and automatic transmission are all standard. No other colors or options are available. If it's good enough for the generals, it's good enough for you. Manufacturing delays due to difficulties reading the design specs are starting to clear up.

RPG II: An old school bus parked in the back yard. The head gasket is blown, the tranny slips, the carburetor needs rebuilding, and two tires are flat.

RPG III: The same as RPG II, except that the two flat tires are white walls.

Happy Motoring!

True Charity

2010-09-05T03:31:00.000-05:00

For about the last year and a half, I've thought from time to time on the subject of charity. For the record, I'll stipulate that there's a difference between Charity and "charity" -- the former being helpful; the latter being largely destructive (at least in the long run).

Paul tells us that Charity "never fails" (i.e. never ceases). Experience has shown us that "charity" usually does fail, leastwise in the long run. There's an old saying: Give a man a fish and he'll eat for a day; teach a man to fish and he can eat every day. The problem is getting from one day to every day.

True Charity helps a person fulfill his divine destiny. "Charity" keeps people from that goal. Oddly enough, we sometimes confuse the two. We seem to think that Charity consists only of teaching people to fish, possibly because we've seen the destructive, corrosive effects of simply feeding people without teaching them to feed themselves. Some people think that once they've taught a guy to fish, he's on his own and no longer a worry. They've "fulfilled a higher law" and the "lesser law" is irrelevant. But this flies in the face of what Scripture tells us (James 2:15-16 comes to mind).

When the crowd followed the Savior out into the wilderness and He preached to them, some of the disciples pointed out after a while that the people had no food. And what did He do at that point?

He fed them.

Did He lecture them about personal preparedness? No.

Did He chastise them for not having brought food with them? No.

Did He tell them that it was just a short walk back into town and they'd make it easily? No.

He fed them.

Never confuse the important with the immediate. Yes, it was -- and still is -- extremely important for people to be prepared and self-reliant. But it's rarely an immediate need; and, as important as it is, it doesn't happen overnight. While we're teaching people all these high-minded principles, we need to make sure that they eat. Spiritual food has no physical nutrition.

Missing Misty

2010-07-18T14:39:00.002-05:00

This story was too funny not to pass along.

Gimme The Beep!

2010-07-10T20:16:00.002-05:00

It's bad enough that I have to listen to some people's rambling outgoing voice-mail messages -- or even those tedious voice menus some businesses have -- but recently I've had occasion to call the VA and try to stay awake during not only their menu options but their messages about what to do if you're feeling particulary suicidal today or if you have an emergency. It wouldn't be quite so terrible if....

If only one of the options was to press a button and get right to the part where I actually get to leave my own (extremely brief) message. It shouldn't be that hard to program into a system.

(I'll forego the usual "If they can put a man on the moon, why can't they....?" rant for the nonce.)

Studies have been done about how many hours we waste in a year waiting for traffic lights to change, or waiting in bank/grocery store/movie theater lines. I can't wait to see one on how much time we waste every year waiting for that elusive beep.

The Trouble With Our Country

2010-06-07T21:12:00.002-05:00

As if it weren't bad enough that the Pentagon's recipe for brownies runs 26 pages, I just received FOUR separate letters from the VA, each containing information on ONE separate appointment, in FOUR separate envelopes.

Why they couldn't put all four letters in one envelope, or -- better yet -- e-mail me the info, is beyond me.

Don't worry. The country is in the very best of hands.

Another Intelligence Test

2010-05-25T10:57:00.002-05:00

"Man is not a rational animal. Man is a rationalizing animal." -- Vox Day

Here's a test to see if people can think rationally:

Q: When is a vehicle most likely to stall out?

A: When it's starting out from a dead stop; or

B: When traveling at a constant speed.

If you answered A, you can obviously think rationally (up to a point) and know something about vehicles, to boot.

So.... on to the second question.

Given that A is the correct answer to our first question, why is it then that busses (and some other vehicles) come to a stop before crossing railroad tracks?

I just love raising this question and then sitting back and watching people tie themselves up in knots trying to rationalize this silly practice.

It Pays To Advertise

2010-05-11T23:37:00.001-05:00

OK, so after weeks of thumbing it to and from work, the light finally went on and I remembered my own saying that there's almost always a better way. You've no doubt seen those poor bedraggled wretches on the side of the road, holding up a sign saying something like "Las Vegas and/or bust". But since I don't have the luxury of just standing there, hoping someone picks me up in time to make it to work on time (or, better yet, a bit early), I had to improvise.

Since I hitchhike European style* (walking with traffic, facing forward), I printed out a two-sided sign to hang on the back of my backpack. One side says "Komatsu" (where I work); the other side says "Downtown" (soon to be modified to say "Downtown/Brainerd"). I put it into a document protector with a piece of light cardboard and pinned it to the back of my backpack.

On Monday, I think I made it two blocks from the Market Street Bridge (i.e. a quarter-mile or so from the bus stop) and some old geezer in a nice SUV picked me up. My boss was at work, doing some stuff and left the same time I did, so he gave me a ride to the bus stop. Today, I made it a few blocks farther on and some other guy picked me up and took me the rest of the way to work. After work, I think I had made it about half a mile from work and some guy picked me up and took me to the bus stop, getting there about 3 minutes before the bus.

By this coming weekend, I should have a functioning bicycle, but the rest of this week should be interesting.

Update (12 May 2010): OK, it gets better. Today, I had to climb that whole stupid hill, but then got picked up at the usual spot ~50 yards from the tunnel. (Better than nothing, eh?) This time, the driver turned out to be a second-shift worker from Komatsu. So, I get to work ~20 minutes early; enough time to rest up a bit before starting.

The way home was even better. I had modified my sign to say "Downtown/Brainerd", but I still wound up walking about a mile before some guy picked me up. I noticed he had a Georgia license plate, and wondered what his planned route would be. Turns out, he was headed for I-75 (which runs near my apartment) to go home. There was enough time that he dropped me off near Aldi and I was able to duck in, buy some vittles, and walk home in time to catch all but the very beginning of Jeopardy.

Once I get a working bicycle under me, I think I'm going to miss these adventures.

The Hitchhiker's Guide To Chattanooga

2010-05-08T08:58:00.002-05:00

(Hat tip and apologies to Douglas Adams for the title.)

Since the Jahnmobile has been on the fritz, getting around has been somewhat problematic. For a while, I was getting rides to and from work, but this is too much inconvenience for the people involved. Then I tried a new tack: ride the #4 CARTA bus downtown to the end of the line and walk the rest of the way. "Walking the rest of the way" involved crossing the Market Street Bridge and walking up Cherokee Blvd over Walden's Ridge (and thru the tunnel), where it becomes Dayton Blvd, and then down the hill to Signal Mountain Rd and on to Komatsu -- a distance of roughly 3½ miles.

If it were flat terrain, it wouldn't be so bad; but that hill's a killer. And as the weather warms up.....

Being of the not-entirely-stupid variety, I decided right out of the starting gate that hitching a ride would be a most excellent idea. (Which probably explains why that song from Vanity Fare kept running thru my head.)

Fortunately for me, there are some nice people here in the Scenic City. The earliest one I remember was a guy in a silver SUV who lives in Red Bank (a suburb). He stopped and asked me where I was headed. I told him my ultimate destination (way out of his way) and added "... or anywhere near the #4 line". He asked which I would prefer, but there was no way I'd ask him to take me all the way home (15 miles out of his way). But take me home he did, and I thanked him profusely.

For some reason, most people have caught me up at the top of the ridge, usually about 50 yards or so from the tunnel. I guess I look pretty bedraggled by that time and they feel sorry for me. But who I am to complain? Half a loaf is still way better than none.

One fine day, as I was nearing the tunnel, I turned around to look for oncoming traffic and held my thumb out for three cars that were coming. No luck. Just as I turned around to head thru the tunnel, I see a green truck come out of the tunnel and pull into the last side street and stop. I trundled over, and the driver asked me where I was headed. Komatsu was fine by him. Along the way, we chatted about my circumstances. When he dropped me off, I went thru the gate and picked up the keys from the guard shack and headed to the main building. Just then, I heard someone call me from behind.

I turned around, and it was him again. He had circled around and come back to the fence. I trundled on over and he said "How about I come back after work and take you home?".

Huh?

I managed to stammer something about I'd be all right hitching a ride back to the bus stop, but he really wanted to do it. So, when I clocked out at the end of my shift, there he was waiting for me. Wow. I got home in time to inhale some dinner before crashing.

Now all that is set-up for what happened this week.

Usually, if I make it thru the tunnel without being picked up, I just cross over and walk the rest of the way down the hill against traffic. By that time, I figure there's not much point in it. But on Monday, I decided to go ahead and give it a try. Not 200 yards from the tunnel, a guy pulled over and gave me a ride the rest of the way, getting me to work almost 45 minutes early -- enough time to rest up a bit before starting work.

On Tuesday, I thought "What the heck? It worked Monday." So I did the same thing. Hardly a quarter mile from the tunnel, a familiar-looking car pulled over. It turned out to be the same guy from Monday. By the time I got to his car, we were both laughing. I said "Hey, you're the same guy from yesterday!" He said "Yeah, I though I recognized you."

So, another 45 minutes early, another good rest before work.

And now things get interesting. Paydays are the 5th and the 20th, but we almost always get paid early. Nice. So I was sort of anticipating getting paid Tuesday evening. Only one problem -- my boss got delayed and couldn't make it there until 7:30 (I leave at 6:45). I figured I could wait, but I'd be midnight getting home. OK, it threw a monkey wrench into my plans, but as Publilius Syrus said: it's a poor plan that allows for no modification.

So, my Wednesday plan went out the window. I had planned to ride CARTA around to Gunbarrel road, walk a quarter mile to the bank and cash my check, stop by Target and SprawlMart and check for sneakers, hit Dollar Tree* and grab some snacks, cross the road to the Mall and get a battery for my watch and pay my phone bill, walk down the hill to my storage and pay for May, then catch the 1:05 to work.

(*Any store with "Dollar" in the name is on my list of faves.)

Instead -- since I had to either pay for storage Wednesday or pay a late fee Thursday -- I headed out to the bus stop to go to my storage. While I was waiting for the bus, I figured it couldn't hurt to stick my thumb out. Within minutes, a guy in a pick-up stopped and took me to the gas station next to my storage. I went in, paid for May, then rooted around in my stuff for a couple of things I needed. After that, I stopped at the gas station for a morning paper, then headed across the street to the bus stop, where I removed and discarded the parts of the paper I never read. Just then, the 12:35 bus came along.

OK, so I'm now half an hour ahead of schedule (and $1.50 ahead of budget). I read the paper on the way downtown (is that Petula Clark I hear singing?) and ask the bus driver about this shuttle that runs around the downtown area (and crosses the Market Street Bridge at all the wrong time for me to bother riding it). Just as she tells me about it, one comes out of what appears to be the garage and I manage to make it off the bus and to the corner in time to hop on. Yay! More time saved -- not to mention a quarter-mile walk across the bridge.

With this much extra time on my hands, I decide to head east instead of west and just peek into the shops. Nice. I walk back and cross Market Street and head to work. With my thumb out. Hardly a quarter mile on, I see a car pull over in front of me. It looks familiar. It's the same guy from Monday and Tuesday! We have a good laugh as he gets me to work over an hour and a quarter early. I sign in at the guard shack and pick up my keys and realize I've got way too much time before I can clock in. Then it his me that there's another SprawlMart just up the road, and I can reach it by going out the back gate.

So I go to our cage, pick up the bicycle we keep there, and head over to the back gate. I leave my backpack in the janitor's closet of the building next to the gate, park the bike at the gate, and walk across the street. I had just enough money left from my last paycheck to get a pair of sneakers, plus some snacks from the Dollar Tree, and head back across the street. In the break room, I change my shoes and put my snacks in my backpack and by then it's 2:55. Just enough time to pedal back to the cage, clock in, and go to work. Life is good.

On Thursday, it gets even better. It starts with the same routine: #4 to the end of the line, walk across the bridge, and start up that bloody hill. In the heat. By the time I trudge thru the tunnel, I'm beat. But, I figure maybe that that guy from Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday isn't too far behind. About a quarter mile past the tunnel, a black sedan almost runs me over and a red SUV pulls over behind him and stops. Yay! I get a ride! I trundle up to the vehicle and start to say "You headed anywhere near Koma...". The driver's laughing. It's one of the guys I work with, out to run an errand before work. "Yeah, I guess you are", I say. We had a good laugh, and he let me off with enough time to take a little break before work.

Then comes Friday. I hop CARTA around to Gunbarrel Road, cash my check at the bank, stop at SprawlMart for a couple things I needed, hit Dollar Tree for some more snacks, walk over to the mall and get a battery for my watch (and stop to pass the time of day with some of the people I know), go out to the Sprint building to pay my bill, and get back to the bus stop in time for the 12:35 bus.

Once downtown, I don't bother with the shuttle. I just walk across the bridge, enjoying the view, and hope someone picks me up before I get to the tunnel.

Not a quarter mile up the road, a familiar-looking green pick-up pulls over. "No way....", I think. Oh, yes. It's Miles; the same guy who not only took me to work, but came back and took me home. Once again, I get to work over an hour early -- plenty of time to rest up before work. After work -- by prior arrangement -- my friend Bob comes by and picks me up and takes me home.

By now, I'm seriously thinking of buying a few lottery tickets.

And how was your week?

(Sometime in the not-too-distant future, I need to take some pictures of this town and post them here.)

One Day In The Orderly Room

2010-04-25T21:06:00.002-05:00

One day, the Commander noticed that an inordinately high percentage of his people had signed up for Servicemen's Group Life Insurance (SGLI). He sought out the Orderly Room clerk responsible for the SGLI program and asked how he managed to get such a high rate of participation.

"Oh, sir, it was easy. I just tell the people that if you're killed in combat and don't have SGLI, all your family gets is barely enough money to bury you with. But if you do have it, they get $250,000. Then I ask 'Who do you think they're going to send into combat first?'."

Irony Of The Year

2010-04-03T18:06:00.002-05:00

(...and the year is yet young.)

So I'm walking back to my apartment from the grocery store and I pass this SUV that's stopped for no apparent reason at the intersection where I turn the corner. Instead of walking in front of it, I walk behind -- taking note of the many stickers on the back.

As I get past and start up the street, I hear this voice saying "Do you know how to get into the apartment complex?". (Of course I do. Do you know how to say "Excuse me"?) Before I can even work up a more acceptable reply, the same voice -- dripping with sarcasm -- says "Thank you", and the SUV takes off.

The irony? On the back of the vehicle was a bumper sticker that says:

Mean People Suck

Gotta love it.

Here's To Your Health

2010-03-27T14:10:00.000-05:00

So we just passed a health care plan written by a committee whose chairman said he didn't understand it, passed by a Congress that exempts themselves from it, signed by a president who smokes, with funding administered by a treasury chief who didn't pay his taxes, all to be overseen by a surgeon general who is obese, and financed by a country that's broke?????

OK, just so we're clear on that.

New Element Discovered

2010-03-25T04:04:00.000-05:00

A major research institution has just announced the discovery of the densest element yet known to science. The new element has been named "Pelosium". Pelosium has one neutron, 12 assistant neutrons, 75 deputy neutrons, and 224 assistant deputy neutrons, giving it an atomic mass of 311. These particles are held together by dark forces called morons, which are surrounded by vast quantities of lepton-like particles called peons.

The symbol for Pelosium is "PU". Pelosium's mass actually increases over time, as morons randomly interact with various elements in the atmosphere and become assistant deputy neutrons in a Pelosium molecule, forming isodopes. This characteristic of moron-promotion leads some scientists to believe that Pelosium is formed whenever morons reach a certain quantity in concentration. This hypothetical quantity is referred to as "Critical Morass".

When catalyzed with money, Pelosium activates CNN-adnausium, an element that radiates orders of magnitude more energy, albeit as incoherent noise, since it has half as many peons but twice as many morons.

Maybe It's Something In The Water

2010-01-21T17:30:00.004-05:00

OK, so the other evening, I'm out for my constitutional and I hear a voice coming from a house about 50 feet away and slightly behind me. It was saying something about "How you doin' today? Doin' all right?". Little did I think someone was trying to have a conversation with the back of my head from over 50 feet away. I kept walking and the voice -- fading into the background -- kept talking, only more insistent.

A short block away, I went up a slight rise and noticed the voice seemed to be the same distance from me. Curious, I looked over my shoulder and noticed a rather agitated individual apparently following me. What the frell?

I made the turn into the apartment complex and headed over toward my building. Like Pepe LePew, he was still behind me. Now I'm a bit concerned. Instead of going to my building, I cut between the basketball court and the tennis court and made my way past and around the management office, my stalker still behind me. As I turned the corner at the management office, I sprinted to the other end of the building and turned that corner, then sprinted for the next corner and cut thru the pool area back to the parking lot where I had come in, Pepe still behind.

As I walked between the basketball court and the tennis court, I heard the gate close and knew he was still behind me. I crossed the parking lot and cut between my building and the one next to it and sprinted for the far side, where I turned the corner and headed back to the parking lot.

From here, I sprinted to the door of my building and up the stairs, no sign of my pursuer in sight.

Now I had a chance to think: what exactly was this guy's damage? Was he so PO'd that he was going to follow me home and force me to have a conversation with him?

Maybe I need to change my route the next time I go out for a walk.

Some people's kids.

R.I.P Princess

2010-01-21T12:08:00.002-05:00

Being partial to cats, it's always sad when one meets an untimely demise. I've been following the adventures of the "hobo kitties" who took up residence with the Sterns in Houston. Stray cats are rarely that sociable, so I guess it says something about the Stern family that the kitties would hang around so much. Kind of reminds me of my friends the Taylors down in Warner Robins, GA.

Now it seems that Princess has been taken. She looks a lot like my little Momo, who lived with me back in '93 until I discovered that I was allergic to her and gave her to a good familly, whose kids adored her and gave her a good home.

What makes it all the more regrettable is that Princess was the only one that would go inside. I'll miss reading about her adventures.

The only bright spot is that all animals inherit the Celestial Kingdom, since they fulfill the measure of their creation. Joseph Smith is reported to have remarked on one occasion that he looked forwarded to being reunited with a horse he had had as a boy. In the same vein, I look forward to hanging out again with my little Mauki, who did so much to brighten up my days.

Have fun, Princess. It won't be all that long until this world passes and we're all reunited again.

Overheard In The Office

2010-01-15T20:54:00.001-05:00

"Man, I've never been so happy in my life as I will be when that ***** gets out of here."

"You should be glad he's here."

"What the **** are you talking about?"

"Before he got here, _____ couldn't stand you. Now she thinks you're not half bad."

It's all relative.

How Cold Is It?

2010-01-11T11:16:00.002-05:00

Pretty dang cold.

Secretive Santa

2009-12-24T22:08:00.005-05:00

OK, so I'm sitting here rotting my brain in front of the one-eyed god and doing stuff on-line, when the doorbell rings.

Huh? Who comes to visit me at 9:30 on Christmas Eve?

My Bishop.

Huh?

Someone in the Ward wanted to send me an anonymous Christmas present. Nice. (Even though I've long contended that Christmas doesn't come in a package, but that's another story.)

We chatted a bit, but I still don't know who my anonymous benefactor is. And thereby hangs a tale.

More years ago than I care to admit to, when I was living in Provo, there was a young lady in our Branch who spoke in Church and although I don't remember the bulk of her talk, I do remember her decrying the habit of some people of doing things anonymously. She was more in favor of the personal touch. (Of course, afterwards some of us got to talking and someone suggested that we bake 10,000 cookies, pile them on her doorstep, and then ring the bell and go hide in the bushes. Unfortunately, we never followed thru.)

But this evening's incident reminded me of a story I read somewhere around that time. It was a commentary on James Russell Lowell's Vision Of Sir Launfal (q.v.), an epic poem wherein our knight errant departs on the stereotypical fool's errand of searching for the "Holy Grail".

As Sir Launfal departs, arrayed in his finery and mounted on his trusty steed, he's stopped by a leper begging at the castle gate. Not wanting to be delayed in his quest, he tosses the old beggar a gold coin and rides off. Years later, he returns -- dented, banged up, not even riding his horse -- and what does he see at the castle gate? The same old beggar. So he sits himself down, pulls out his last crust of bread, and tells the beggar the story of his failed quest. As he finishes his narrative, the beggar is transformed before his eyes and Sir Launfal beholds his Savior, who says these words:

"The Holy Supper is kept, indeed,
In whatso we share with another's need;
Not what we give, but what we share
for the gift without the giver is bare.
Who gives himself with his alms feeds three --
himself, his hungering neighbor, and Me"

Do something nice for someone today. Just don't do it anonymously.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

2009-12-03T13:46:00.002-05:00

(Note: In accordance with long-standing tradition* in the blogosphere, I'm going to use a pseudonym rather than the person's real name. (*One does not use real names unless the person is a public figure or one has that person's permission.))

A while back, some fool left a snarky comment about "hook-ups" on a friend's Facebook page. I found that offensive in the extreme and left a note to the effect that my friend (hereinafter known as "Wonder Woman") doesn't "hook-up".

Early yesterday morning, I got a nice little note from her, thanking me for my comment and agreeing that the original comment was out of line and disrespectful. I wrote back and reminded her that respect is the foundation for all relationships among Germans.

And thereby hangs a tale. Or at least a blog post.

I've probably already blogged about my philosophy on what constitutes a friend. Hint: it's not someone I've known for 15 minutes. It takes longer. But I'm not sure if I got around to exploring what goes into friendship. Most of it is pretty basic. But respect plays a much larger role than most people realize. Bottom line: if I can't respect you, you can't be my friend. And the way to be respected is to be respectable. Maybe we can get along. Maybe we can even share a joke or two. But friends? Uh-uh. People I can't respect are forever relegated to the Aquaintance Zone.

Many years ago, when I was ~~sentenced to~~ stationed at Maxwell AFB, there was a kid in my Ward who was some kind of Homecoming Queen or whatever. Everyone else fawned all over her like she was All That And A Bag Of Chips. I was completely underwhelmed. Grudgingly, I had to concede that she was "a good member of the Church" (as though that's some sort of bona fides). And I was content to leave it at that. Until one fine day.

One Saturday, the singles had a picnic at the lake. And guess who shows up wearing a one-piece bathing suit that left nothing to the imagination? So much for being "a good member of the Church". Kind of hard for me to work up any respect for someone like that. (The only redeeming feature was that she didn't have anything worth looking at anyway.)

Now, why is it I respect Wonder Woman when we've never even met? Easy -- it's because she has always behaved in a respectable manner. Quite apart from her obvious intelligence, her charm, her whacky sense of humor, and countless other qualities, she commands respect. She affords others a dignity that they do not always reciprocate. So far as I've seen, her actions have been above reproach. And so it's easy for me to respect her -- she's a respectable person. I love people like that.

Too bad there aren't more such people in this world.

Why Lab Rats Are Smarter Than People

2009-11-26T12:21:00.002-05:00

Some time ago, I got to talking with some friends about the ~~pernicious practice~~ ~~evil habit~~ ~~unforgiveble sin~~ cultural practice of "blind dates". I allowed as how my own personal ban on the practice revolved around two observations:

A) under no circumstances whatsoever should a man accept one woman's assessment of another (more on that another time); and

B) the American obsession for setting people up on blind dates allows for absolutely no flexibility. The script is to be followed to the letter at all times.

Regarding the second point, I noted that when lab rats are confronted with what clearly does not work (i.e. a blank wall/blind end), they turn around and find a different way. Would that some people were that way.

It should be noted that my last blind date was in 1975. Dinners with Linksters I had only known on-line beforehand don't count.

As regards that last ~~fiasco~~ blind date back in '75: I was living in Provo and some ~~fiends~~ would-be "friends" of mine ~~twisted my arm~~ ~~conned me~~ talked me into going to a "Sadie Hawkins" dance with them. Even though the women were supposed to be asking the men, the roommate of one of their dates had no one to go with and I was being ~~shanghaied~~ ~~blackmailed~~ recruited into filling in. How it was that I had to ask her instead of the other way around was never explained to me.

I came up with what I thought was an eminently reasonable solution: One of the miscreants was going over to his gf's apartment anyway, so I suggested that he take me along. The ~~poor soul~~ ~~victim~~ person in question would have a chance to meet me, without her knowing that I was to be ~~the sacrificial lamb~~ her "date" for the evening. As I explained, if I ~~knuckled under~~ gave the green light, all would be well in Happy Valley. But if I ~~recoiled in horror~~ declined, she would never know what almost happened (unless someone ratted me out).

No dice. It absolutely had to be "blind".

Although the evening was not quite the unmitigated disaster I had expected, it was uncomfortable enough for both of us. Which was really sad, because she was actually a very nice person. Had the circumstances been allowed to be different, who knows what might have resulted?

To this day, I say that if Moses had known about blind dates, there'd've been another Commandment.

Where Were You?

2009-11-09T07:10:00.000-05:00

In light of The Empty Suit's refusal to attend the festivities in Berlin marking the breaching of The Wall, any number of pundits have suddenly brought a great deal of unintended attention to the celebration, leading many to ask the question of "Where were you when The Wall opened?".

A bit of background is in order. In the summer of 1927, my father left his home in Falkenstein im Vogtland, sailing from Hamburg to New York. After traveling thru 47 of the then 48 States, he finally settled in Baltimore, where I was born many years later. Due to the division of Germany after the war, his sole surviving brother (Hellmuth) never knew that there was an addition to the family.

At the end of July 1961, my Uncle Hellmuth rode the train from Berlin to Frankfurt, then traveled farther south to Augsburg, intending for his wife and young daughter to follow. Unfortunately, during the night from 12 - 13 August, the Soviets and their eastern German collaborators -- under the direction of Walter Ulbricht and Erich Honecker -- sealed the east-west border and erected what came to be known as simply "The Wall", a scar across the face of Berlin.

Ostensibly, this border between East and West -- as well as the encirlement of Berlin -- was built as a defense against an imaginary invasion by forces of the West. But the only conclusion reached by any intelligent and honest observer is that it was built to imprison those in the Soviet-occupied zone. This intra-German border was what Churchill referred to as the "Iron Curtain". Almost 800 people died trying to make that crossing from East to West.

There were many who despaired of ever seeing that hideous scar erased. There were some -- such as Willi Brandt -- who legitimized it in an effort to "accomodate" the East and "reduce tension".

But there were some who never really accepted it. One was Ronald Reagan, arguably the greatest President of the 20th century. Here was a man who truly believed in freedom. His was not the only voice calling for the removal of that most visible of symbols of the failure of totalitarianism. Yours Truly had the opportunity of doing an editorial piece on a local TV station, remarking that if that darling of the Left, Mikhail Gorbachev, truly wanted peace, he'd tear down that Wall. Pres. Reagan was far more eloquent. Ignoring even his own Secretary of State, he insisted on uttering the four words that Kennedy should have said (instead of pandering to the crowd with his deliberately ungrammatical "Ich bin ein Berliner!" -- literally, "I am a jelly donut!"). "Tear down this Wall!" became the rallying cry for those who truly believe in freedom.

During the summer of 1989, I was performing temporary duty at HQ USAFE at Ramstein AB, south of Kaiserslautern. I quickly discovered that there was a local station right next to Armed Forces Network (AFN) on the radio dial. The local station carried news on the hour, right after AFN news. The guys I was working with allowed me to re-tune the radio after AFN news and translate for them. One after noon in late July, after listening to still more reports about the growing tensions inside the "DDR", I remarked that in five years, Germany would be reunited or the East would go the same way as Poland -- right down the tubes. My colleagues were too polite to give utterance to what they were thinking ("This guy's been out in the sun too long without a hat.").

On 9 September, I flew down to Berlin and made the crossing at the infamous Checkpoint Charlie and spent the day with my cousin and her family, gaining a first-hand look at exactly what conditions were like. The one experience of the day that stands out most in my mind was our attempt to get some lunch. Three times, Erwin (my cousin's husband) checked restaurants to see if we could get in (some restaurants were open only to foreigners). It was only on the fourth try that he was successful, and I found out what the problem had been. The other three restaurants were out of food. Not just out of the special of the day -- out of food, period.

On the flight back up to Frankfurt, and the bus ride to Ramstein, I thought about the day's events. The next day, I left Church early and went back to my quarters to take a nap. That evening, I was watching something on local TV (not AFN!), when the programming was interrupted by a broadcast from the German Embassy in Budapest. At that time, there were 7,200 refugess from the DDR holed up there, hoping for permission to cross into Austria instead of being required to go back home. Since the Hungarians were signatories to both the Warsaw Pact and the Helsinki Accords, this posed a dilemma for them. Should they follow the Warsaw Pact and force those people to go back to their home country, or should they follow the Helsinki Accords, which provided that any person had the right to leave any country -- even their own -- and travel to any country that would permit them entry? The Hungarians had made their choice, and the Foreign Minister made the announcement to the crowd.

"Stunned" hardly begins to sum up the reaction. That night, 4,500 refugees crossed over into Austria and their into the reception centers set up just inside Germany. The rest followed over the next two or three days.

On Monday, the office was abuzz with the news. During a lull in the conversation, I reminded my colleagues of what I had said in July. "Remember what I said about this country being reunited in five years? Forget it. Two years." Once again, they were too polite to say what they were thinking.

On the afternoon of 9 November, I was back home in Albuquerque, having lunch and watching TV. Whatever I was watching went off at 2 and I turned off the TV and took my dishes out to the kitchen and put them in the sink. This little voice -- which I try very hard to heed -- said "Go turn the TV back on". What a ridiculous thought! There's nothing on TV at 2 in the afternoon! Again, with more urgency, came the voice: "Go turn the TV back on!". So I did.

For the first few minutes, I watched as Pres. Bush droned on about who-knows-what (I'm not fluent in politic; it's a strange language). Finally, things went back to the network newsroom, where the announcement I had originally missed was repeated: The Wall had been opened. People were being allowed to cross freely back and forth between the two sides of Berlin. I sat there in my recliner, speechless and unable to move. When my roommate got home, I filled him in on what had happened. I sat there in that recliner until somewhere around 10:30 that night, until I was so tired I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore.

The next morning, I got up, convinced that I had dreamed the whole thing. The morning paper convinced me otherwise. The Wall had indeed been breached. I told Terry that when they opened The Wall for both vehicles and pedestrians at the Brandenburg Gate, that would be the tipping point -- there would be no turning back. Over the ensuing months, East and West negotiated over terms of reunification and on 3 October 1990, the country was reunified -- just over half the time I had predicted.

The political reunification was the easy part. The psychological part has been a bit more problematic. But at least now, Pres. Reagan's four famous words can be replaced by another five-word phrase uttered by so many during the 28 years of division: "Es gibt nur ein Berlin!" ("There is only one Berlin!").

Bis hierher und nicht weiter*

2009-10-29T16:09:00.000-05:00

(*lit. "to this point and no further")

What's going on in this world could have been predicted quite easily by anyone who was paying attention 40 years ago. (And some of us were!) There is no longer an accepted standard of right and wrong. "Right" is whatever you "feel" like doing; "wrong" is whatever you happen to not like. One's friends can do no wrong, and one's enemies can do no right.

The only rights you have are the rights that the loudest voices deign to allow you to have. And any wrongs you suffer must be tolerated No... Matter... What.

And discipline? Gone the way of the dodo bird. Kids won't sit still in school? Well, that's not a lack of discipline! Heaven forfend that we make the little darlings feeeeeeel bad. Just give 'em the latest drug du jour and let 'em sit there drooling on themselves. What little discipline there is, is directed at the wrong people. (Check out your local ~~Government Indoctrination Center~~ school's "zero tolerance" policy.) No wonder children have no respect for authority. In order to be respected, one must be respectable.

I remember a couple of guys I worked with in Germany in the early '70s. "Stan" and "Ollie" knew each other from "back home" and the Stan told me a rather shocking tale about Ollie. It seems that Ollie was forever being picked on in school. Because he was a rather large lad, he was not only reluctant to push back, but was understandably concerned about being branded a bully if he did. One day, though, Ollie snapped. He picked up one of those chair-and-desk sets and hitting one of his tormentors with it. Next thing you know, he's in the principal's office, where the principal wanted to know why he had hit the other kid with the chair-and-desk set. His only explanation? "I couldn't find anything bigger." Had The Powers That Be had enough guts to handle things properly, it would most likely never have come to this. But they rarely do.

As the years have gone by, we've seen more and more of this. Some poor schmo gets picked on at work, and then gets blamed for being the victim. He finally snaps and says the "wrong" thing and next thing you know, he's out of a job. And people wonder why disgruntled former employees wind up coming back and shooting up the place. Not hard to figure out, really.

The worst of it all is that our basic goodness is being used against us. More and more, we're being forced to accept the most unacceptable behavior, all in the unholy name of "tolerance". And yet, those who would force us to toerate the intolerable are themselves the most intolerant. They brook no dissent.

But where do we get to draw the line in the sand? When do we get to say "to this point and no further"? Do we even have the courage? There are limits to everything. The one small ray of hope lately has been the Tea Parties. People are finally saying "Enough is enough!" and getting noticed. We all need to join in that chorus and put an end to political correctness, official cowardice, incompetence, and all the rest of the malfeasance in our society.

It's the only hope we have for our country.

Jahn's Paradox

2009-09-28T10:04:00.002-05:00

If you put something in a safe place where you can't possibly lose it, you'll forget where you put it.

(Re-)casting Call

2009-09-20T18:28:00.003-05:00

Too many movies have been re-made with a younger crop of actors. What if we could turn the tables and re-make those same movies with actors from an earlier era? The only criterion is that the actor has to be believable in the role.

Herewith our first attempt:

Star Wars

Evil Emperor........... Edward G. Robinson
Han Solo................ John Wayne
Darth Vader............ Boris Karloff
Luke Skywalker...... Jimmy Stewart
Princess Leia......... Gloria Talbott
C3PO.................... Peter Lorre
R2D2..................... Flipper
Lando Calrissian..... Humphrey Bogart
Jabba the Hutt........ Marlon Brando
Chewbacca............ n/a (he had no speaking lines)
Obi-Wan Kenobi..... Gregory Peck
Gov. Tarkin............ Vincent Price
Uncle Owen........... Hugh Beaumont
Aunt Veroo............ Barbara Billingsley
Yoda.................... Walter Brennan

Special mention not from the original trilogy:

Jar-Jar Binks....... Rodney Dangerfield

I Demand Reparations

2009-09-07T07:42:00.000-05:00

With every perpetually aggrieved group stepping up with their hands out to demand reparations for every conceivable offense -- and some rather inconceivable ones -- it looks like it's my turn to get a piece of the action.

Back during WWII, as a result of an illegal and immoral war waged by imperialist forces of greedy capitalist countries against my ancient homeland, my Uncle Hellmuth was severely wounded, my Uncle Werner died in action, and my Aunt Else died of TB contracted during extended stays in bomb shelters.

And, since WWII was just an extension of WWI following a brief intermission while all sides paused to re-load, my father found it necessary to leave and seek his fortunes elsewhere. I'm sure that led to PTSD and an earlier-than-normal death.

Somebody's gotta pay.

Where do I sign up?

The Art Of Manliness

2009-09-03T20:02:00.001-05:00

A serious post for once. (Don't worry; I'll get over it.) One of my Linkster friends put me onto this site.

It's nice to know that true manliness hasn't gone the way of the buggy whip.

Random Thoughts

2009-08-28T15:04:00.000-05:00

* I wish Google Maps had an "Avoid Ghetto" routing option.

* More often than not, when someone is telling me a story, all I can think about is that I can't wait for them to finish so that I can tell my own story that's not only better, but also more directly involves me.

* Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.

* Have you ever been walking down the street and realized that you're going in the complete opposite direction of where you are supposed to be going? But instead of just turning a 180 and walking back in the direction from which you came, you have to first do something like check your watch or phone or make a grand arm gesture and mutter to yourself to ensure that no one in the surrounding area thinks you're crazy by randomly switching directions on the sidewalk.

* I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.

* The letters T and G are very close to each other on a keyboard. It would probably be a good idea to never end a work email with the phrase "Regards" again.

* Do you remember when you were a kid, playing Nintendo and it wouldn't work? You take the cartridge out, blow in it and that would magically fix the problem. Every kid in America did that, but how did we all know how to fix the problem? There was no internet or message boards or FAQs. We just figured it out. Today's kids are soft.

* There is a great need for sarcasm font.

* Sometimes, I'll watch a movie that I watched when I was younger and suddenly realize I had no idea what the frell was going on when I first saw it.

* I think everyone has a movie that they love so much, it actually becomes stressful to watch it with other people. You end up wasting 90 minutes shiftily glancing around to confirm that everyone's laughing at the right parts, then making sure you laugh just a little bit harder (and a millisecond earlier) to prove that you're still the only one who really, really gets it.

* How the frell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?

* I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in.

* I think part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer history when you die.

* The only time I look forward to a red light is when I'm trying to open a Pepsi.

* A recent study has shown that playing beer pong contributes to the spread of mono and the flu. Yeah, if you suck at it.

* Was learning cursive really necessary?

* LOL has gone from meaning, "laugh out loud" to "I have nothing else to say".

* I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.

* Answering the same letter three times or more in a row on a Scantron test is absolutely petrifying.

* My neighbor's Municipal League baseball team is named the Stepdads. Seeing as none of the guys on the team are actual stepdads, I inquired about the name. He explained, "Cuz we beat you, and you hate us." Classy, bro.

* Whenever someone says "I'm not book smart, but I'm street smart", all I hear is "I'm not real smart, but I'm imaginary smart".

* How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear what they said?

* I love the sense of camaraderie when an entire line of cars teams up to prevent a idiot from cutting in at the front. Stay strong, brothers!

* While driving yesterday, I saw a banana peel in the road and instinctively swerved to avoid it. Thanks, Mario Kart.

* MapQuest really needs to start their directions on #5. I'm pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.

* Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.

* I find it hard to believe there are actually people who get in the shower first and THEN turn on the water.

* Shirts get dirty. Underwear gets dirty. Pants? Pants never get dirty, and you can wear them forever.

* I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.

* Bad decisions make good stories.

* Whenever I'm Facebook stalking someone and I find out that their profile is public I feel like a kid on Christmas morning who just got the Red Ryder BB gun that I always wanted. 546 pictures? Don't mind if I do!

* Is it just me or do high school girls get sluttier & sluttier every year?

* If Carmen San Diego and Waldo ever got together, their offspring would probably just be completely invisible.

* Why is it that during an ice-breaker, when the whole room has to go around and say their name and where they are from, I get so incredibly nervous? Like I know my name, I know where I'm from. This shouldn't be a problem....

* You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you've made up your mind that you just aren't doing anything productive for the rest of the day.

* Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after DVDs? I don't want to have to restart my collection.

* There's no worse feeling than that millisecond you're sure you are going to die after leaning your chair back a little too far.

* I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my 15-page research paper that I swear I did not make any changes to.

* "Do not machine wash or tumble dry" means I will never wash this, ever.

* I hate being the one with the remote in a room full of people watching TV. There's so much pressure. 'I love this show, but will they judge me if I keep it on? I bet everyone is wishing we weren't watching this. It's only a matter of time before they all get up and leave the room. Will we still be friends after this?'

* While watching the Olympics, I find myself cheering equally for China and USA. No, I am not of Chinese descent, but I am fairly certain that when Chinese athletes don't win, they are executed.

* I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello? Darnit!), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voicemail. What'd you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone and run away?

* I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.

* When I meet a new woman, I'm terrified of mentioning something she hasn't already told me but that I have learned from some light internet stalking.

* I like all of the music in my iTunes, except when it's on shuffle, then I like about one in every fifteen songs in my iTunes.

* Why is a school zone 20 mph? That seems like the optimal cruising speed for pedophiles.

* As drivers most people hate pedestrians, and as pedestrians most people hate drivers, but no matter what the mode of transportation, most people always hate cyclists.

* Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is.

* It should probably be called Unplanned Parenthood.

* I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.

* Even if I knew your social security number, I wouldn't know what do to with it.

* Even under ideal conditions, some people have trouble locating their car keys in a pocket, finding their cell phone, and Pinning the Tail on the Donkey - but I'd bet my bottom dollar everyone can find and push the Snooze button from 3 feet away, in about 1.7 seconds, eyes closed, first time every time.

* A guy's 4-year old son asked him in the car the other day "Dad what would happen if you ran over a ninja?" How the hell do you respond to that?

* It really pisses me off when I want to read a story on CNN.com and the link takes me to a video instead of text.

* I wonder if cops ever get pissed off at the fact that everyone they drive behind obeys the speed limit.

* I think the freezer deserves a light as well.

* I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or Saturday, night more kisses begin with Miller Lites than Kay.

* The other night I ordered takeout, and when I looked in the bag, saw they had included four sets of plastic silverware. In other words, someone at the restaurant packed my order, took a second to think about it, and then estimated that there must be at least four people eating to require such a large amount of food. Too bad I was eating by myself. There's nothing like being made to feel like a fat slob before dinner.

Cash For Codgers

2009-08-18T16:41:00.002-05:00

(Hat tip to Neal Boortz for passing this along.)

Democrats, realizing the success of the President's "Cash For Clunkers" rebate program, have revamped a major portion of their National Health Care Plan.

President Obama, Speaker Pelosi, and Sen. Reid are expected to make this major announcement at a joint news conference later this week. I have obtained an advanced copy of the proposal which is named....

"CASH FOR CODGERS"

And It Works Like This...

Couples wishing to access health care funds in order to pay for the delivery of a child will be required to turn in one old person. The amount the government grants them will be set according to a sliding scale. Older and more prescription-dependent "codgers" will garner the highest amounts.

Special "Bonuses" will be paid for those submitting codgers in targeted groups, such as smokers, alcohol drinkers, persons 10 pounds over their government prescribed weight, and any member of the Republican Party.

Smaller bonuses will be given for "codgers" who consume beef, soda, fried foods, potato chips, lattes, whole milk, dairy products, bacon, Brussels sprouts, or Girl Scout Cookies.

All "codgers" will be rendered totally useless via toxic injection. This will insure that they are not secretly resold or their body parts harvested to keep other "codgers" in repair.

Picture Perfect

2009-07-31T21:49:00.001-05:00

Anyone who's known me since about the eighth grade knows that I don't pay much -- if any -- attention to outward appearances. While all the rest of the guys were drooling all over themselves about the latest "all that and a bag of chips", I was looking for conversation about..... anything more meaningful than who was on Ed Sullivan last Sunday.

Every once in a while, though, I've gotten the odd (pleasant) surprise .

And sometimes, things just get... a little weird.

There I was, just sitting there minding my own business, not bothering anybody, just browsing thru stuff on LinkUp, and I get an e-mail. From someone I didn't even know. The subject line said something about "I hear you live in Chattanooga". Well, duh. It's right there on my profile.

So I open it and it's from someone calling herself "Bonfire". I click on the profile and read thru her last few posts and decide she's not too scary, so I read the e-mail. She's in town on business for a few days and wants to know if I want to get together for dinner.

Me? Already, I'm looking around for the little red light that tells me where the candid camera is. Nothing. OK, so I figure she seems harmless, so what the heck? I'm sure I'll recognize her from her picture. We swap a few e-mails and decide to have dinner. She's got no vehicle, so I pop over in the Jahnmobile to pick her up.

Now, there are some things in life you're just not properly prepared for. I was expecting someone with relatively humanoid features who wouldn't make my eyes bleed. So I wasn't really ready when this gal comes out and introduces herself. As near as I can recollect, my first thought was "Whoa. She's a babe." Anything I actually said after that was probably gibberish. She probably thought I was retarded.

Anyway, we piled into the Jahnmobile and headed up the road to Ryan's Steakhouse, where we spent an hour swapping "war stories" from the mission field and laughing ourselves silly. Best Friday night I'd had in quite a while. Afterward, I dropped her off back at the Holiday Inn so she could get back to work, and I headed back to my place. On the way, the thought hit me that I should probably send her an invite on LinkUp to join my list. I get back, fire up the ol' laptop, log on to LinkUp and... there's an invite waiting for me. Great minds think alike.

Nice to have some intelligent conversation once in a while. Everything else is icing on the cake

To All My Friends

2009-07-30T08:00:00.001-05:00

Are you tired of those sissy 'friendship' poems that always sound good, But never actually come close to reality?

Well, here is a series of promises that actually speak of true friendship.

You will see no cute little smiley faces on this card -- Just the stone-cold truth of our great friendship.

1.... When you are sad -- I will help you get drunk and plot revenge against the sorry bastard who made you sad.

2.. When you are blue -- I will try to dislodge whatever is choking you.

3.... When you smile -- I will know you are thinking of something that I would probably want to be involved in.

4.. When you are scared -- I will rag on you about it every chance I get until you're NOT.

5.. When you are worried -- I will tell you horrible stories about how much worse it could be until you quit whining..

6.. When you are confused -- I will try to use only little words.

7.. When you are sick -- Stay the hell away from me until you are well again. I don't want whatever you have...

8.. When you fall -- I will laugh at your clumsy ass, but I'll help you up.

9.. This is my oath.... I pledge it to the end. 'Why?' you might ask; because you are my friend.

Friendship is like wetting your pants, everyone can see it, but only you can feel the true warmth.

Jahn's Law

2009-07-23T09:55:00.001-05:00

Jahn's First Law of Computers:

The day after I run any maintenance program, they'll release an upgrade.

Comm 101

2009-07-22T08:45:00.003-05:00

The two most common elements in the universe are hydrogen and stupidity. -- Heinlein

OK, so yet another moron from the local cable company interrupts my evening to try to sell me on a subscription to their over-priced service. (As a side note, I can't wait until EPB gets their fiber-to-home service going. If I have any money, I just might subscribe. Partly to encourage them, and partly to stick a finger in the eye of the other guys.) Anyway, I look out the peephole and I know instantly what's up. So, I open the door, and before the guy can even speak, I give him an earful and close the door.

Then I call the management office, hoping to get a recording that will tell me the phone number for the on-site security guy. No luck. I get an answering "service". So I ask for the number for the security guy.

And this is where things go south.

Instead of saying the intelligent thing ("We're not allowed to give that out, but I can have him call you."), the ~~idiot~~ ~~moron~~ ~~half-wit~~ person on the other end asks my name.

What the...? What does that have to do with anything?

Ignoring that, I ask again for the guy's phone number. Now she finally tells me they're not allowed to give that out. Yeah, that helps a lot.

It's a good thing it wasn't an emergency.

(Fortunately, I know I've got that number around here somewhere. It used to be in my phone. I'll have to dig it out and program it back in.)

This whole thing reminds me of an incident years ago when I had to call some company and got their answering "service". After several minutes of me explaining the situation, the ~~idiot~~ ~~moron~~ ~~half-wit~~ person on the other end finally deigns to tell me that I've reached the answering service for the business. Followed by an impromptu lesson from me on how to use the phone. After that, any time I had to call that business, I would begin with "Is this ________ company, or have I reached the answering service?". If it wasn't the company, I'd hang up.

UPDATE: (13 Dec 09)
I finally found the little refrigerator magnet with the Security phone number on it. No more answering service for me.

Shakespeare for the 21st Century

2009-07-02T20:39:00.001-05:00

A couple of my friends linked to this over on Farcebook and I thought it was funny enough to pass along.

How Stupid Is Too Stupid?

2009-06-25T18:08:00.001-05:00

How stupid can people get?

I've put up a job-wanted ad on Craigslist with the following words at the beginning and end, and twice in the middle:

Write with *DETAILS* or don't write at all.

So far, I've gotten around 50 replies. Only two of them gave me any info about a SPECIFIC JOB that they're offering. All the rest have been scams and spam, with a few vague come-ons and inquiries about whether or not I'm still looking for work. (If I'd found a job, why would I keep the ad up? Do you really think I'm as stupid as you are?)

Whatever happened to

READ EVERYTHING BEFORE DOING ANYTHING

and

"when all else fails, FOLLOW INSTRUCTIONS"?

Do these half-wits really think I'd want to work for someone who's too stupid to follow the simplest of instructions?

/rant

Not Just Another Holiday

2009-06-21T19:40:00.001-05:00

Every child needs a father.

With the exception of commercial interests, today must be The Most Overlooked "Holiday" of all. How it can be a "holiday" when no one gets any paid time off, is beyond me. But that's neither here nor there.

Fortunately, I can remember making a big deal out of it when I was a kid. Mostly because I actually loved my old man. And maybe that's what's wrong with today's society. Few people appreciate fathers anymore.

Someone once said that there are things that you never get over, you just get used to them. Less than a week before Christmas, when I was not quite 16, my Dad dropped dead of a heart attack at work. Christmas has never been quite the same for me since. Still in all, there are three times a year that I do think of him slightly more than at other times. (Not that I don't think of him a lot anyway.) One is his birthday, the second is Fathers Day, and the last -- quite naturally -- is Christmastime. Admittedly, much of my thinking revolves around the void in my life left by his passing. Every child needs a father.

Even though my parents divorced when I was only 6, my Dad remained a major influence in my life. I've told people on a number of occasions that if I could bring in five men -- one of them being my Dad -- and let the five speak for two minutes each, at the end of 10 minutes there'd be no doubt as to which one was my old man.

Despite the fact that I only got to see him on weekends, it was not the duration of the visits but their nature that affected me. I have a lot of fond memories of those times. Every child needs a father. I can remember many hours spent in the park or at the beach or even in a restaurant. He was a man of many talents who gave us a peek at a much larger world than the one we lived in day to day. His influence was not just emotional, but intellectual. To paraphrase Strickland Gilliland, "Richer than I you can never be; I had a father who talked with me." He not only told us stories about his own childhood (and yeah, I've been there and seen where he had to walk to school through hip-deep snow), but also about his travels and his various jobs.

Toward the end of his life, my Dad worked as a machinist. It required a good head for math, the importance of which he stressed on numerous occasions. For several years until he died, we had a raging debate over which was more accurate, fractions or decimals. (I took the fractions side; he argued for decimals.) To this day, I still think he played Devil's Advocate just to sharpen my wits. Every child needs a father.

I've only found two maps that show the little town of Brunndöbra, where he was born. It lies in what's called "the musical corner of the Vogtland", up on the northern edge of the Erzgebirge, just over the line from Böhmen in what is now the Czech Republic. That particular area is known for two things: embroidery and musical instruments. So it's no surprise that he was not only a classically trained musician, but also worked in an embroidery factory (Gebrüder Männel). I didn't find out until several years after he died that he played more than just steel guitar. He also played clarinet and violin. But I remember many occasions when he would haul out that steel guitar and play and sing. (Unfortunately, those genes seem to have skipped a generation. But I do know all the words to "Tief d'rin im Böhmerwald", which he sang often.) And he did teach me to read music, which gave me a leg up when I joined the band in high school. I miss those times, especially since he only got to come to one of our concerts.

One of the other jobs he had was running his own music studion in New Bern, NC, where he met his first wife. Somewhere in all my "stuff", I still have a letter of appreciation from a local radio station for the performance his group did. I also have at least one picture of them. Which leads me to something I mentioned last year at this time:

"The leader of the band is tired
and his eyes are growing old.
But his blood runs thru my instrument
and his song is in my soul.
My life has been a poor attempt
to imitate the man.
I'm just a living legacy
to the leader of the band.

I thank you for the music
and your stories of the road.
I thank you for the freedom
when it came (your) time to go.
I thank you for the kindness
and the times when you got tough.
And, papa, I don't think I said
'I love you' near enough."

One of the few comforts that I have in this life is that I can spend time with him in the next. Every child needs a father.

Happy Fathers Day, Dad.

(NB: Yes, I sometimes refer to my Dad as "my old man". Some have used that appellation as a pejorative, but I've never meant it except with the utmost affection and respect.)

50 Years Of Math Classes

2009-06-16T16:16:00.002-05:00

(Hat tip to nobody. for this one.)

Last week, I purchased a burger at Burger King for $1.58. The counter girl took my $2 and I was digging for my change when I pulled 8 cents from my pocket and gave it to her. She stood there, holding the nickel and 3 pennies, while looking at the screen on her register. I sensed her discomfort and tried to tell her to just give me two quarters, but she hailed the manager for help. While he tried to explain the transaction to her, she stood there and cried. Why do I tell you this?

Because of the evolution in teaching math since the 1950s:

1. Teaching Math In 1950s

A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is 4/5 of the price. What is his profit ?

2. Teaching Math In 1960s

A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is 4/5 of the price, or $80. What is his profit?

3. Teaching Math In 1970s

A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is $80. Did he make a profit?

4. Teaching Math In 1980s

A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is $80 and his profit is $20. Your assignment: Underline the number 20.

5. Teaching Math In 1990s

A logger cuts down a beautiful forest because he is selfish and inconsiderate and cares nothing for the habitat of animals or the preservation of our woodlands. He does this so he can make a profit of $20. What do you think of this way of making a living? Topic for class participation after answering the question: How did the birds and squirrels feel as the logger cut down their homes? (There are no wrong answers, and if you feel like crying, it's ok. )

6. Teaching Math In 2009

Un hachero vende una carretada de maderapara $100. El costo de la producciones es $80. ¿Cuanto dinero ha hecho?

.

iTunes Alphabet

2009-06-12T18:45:00.000-05:00

(UPDATE: Just for fun, I thought I'd amend some of the titles to show what I could have listed, were I not concerned with diversity.)

I spotted this somewhere on the Intarwebz and thought I'd take a crack at it. I use iTunes to keep my music (all 967 songs) organized, although I have to use Monkey Media to synch to my MP3 player. I tried to pick either my favorites or rather obscure stuff. Or maybe my obscure favorites. Or my favorite obscure stuff. Or whatever.

A: Acapulco 1922; Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass
B: Bye-Bye Blues; Bert Kaempfert and The Orchestra
B1: Blue Sunday; Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass
C: Creatures Of The Night; Laura Branigan
C1: Crea Mi Amor; Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass
D: Downtown; Petula Clark
D1: Desafinado; Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass
E: Elvira Madigan theme; 101 Strings
E1: El Lobo; Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass
F: Fields of Gold; Mary Black
F1: Felicia; Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass
G: The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly; Hugo Montenegro
G1: Garbanzo; Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass
H: Have You Never Been Mellow?; Olivia Newton-John
H1: Happy Hour; Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass
I: I Am, I Said; Neil Diamond
I1: Happy Hour; Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass
J: Jungle Love; Steve Miller Band
J1: Jerusalem; Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass
K: Knock Three Times; Tony Orlando And Dawn
L: Love Is Blue; Paul Mauriat
L1: Ladyfingers; Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass
M: Mah-Na-Mah-Na; Mahna Mackay
M1: Memories Of Madrid; Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass
N: New World In The Mornin'; Roger Whitaker
N1: Numero Cinco; Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass
O: One-Eyed, One-Horned Flyin' Purple People-Eater; Sam the Sham & The Pharaohs
O1: Our Day Will Come; Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass
P: Portugese Washerwoman; Baja Marimba Band
P1: Plucky; Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass
Q: Quiet Village; Martin Denny
Q1: A Quiet Tear; Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass
R: Ramblin' Rose; Nat "King" Cole
R1: Rise; Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass
S: Stranger On The Shore; Mr. Acker Bilk
S1: Spanish Flea; Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass
T: Third Man Theme; Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass
U: Under The Boardwalk; The Drifters
U1: Up Cherry Street; Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass
V: Vincent; Don McLean
W: Wanderin' Star; Lee Marvin*
W1: Wade In The Water; Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass
X: Xanadu; Olivia Newton-John
Y: You Make Me Wanna Shout; Little Richard
Z: Zorba The Greek; Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass

Wow. I can't believe I actually do have one for every letter of the alphabet. Yay me. :-)

*Yeah, that Lee Marvin!

Health Alert! Health Alert!

2009-06-12T14:21:00.000-05:00

If you get an e-mail claiming to be from the Department of Health, telling you not to eat tinned ham because of Swine Flu, ignore it. It's just spam.

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It's Your Funeral (Cake)

2009-06-03T20:07:00.005-05:00

Years ago, when I was in Nürnberg, my companion and I stopped into a little "mom and pop" store to grab something to drink. Being a bit hungry at the time, I glanced over all the fresh-baked goodies in the display cake. My gaze came to rest on some crumb cake, and so I asked for a piece.

"Aber das is doch Beerdigungskuchen", said the woman. ("But that's 'funeral cake'.")

Uh-huh. Don't give me a vocabulary lesson, just gimme the bloody cake.

I repeated my requested, which was met with a slightly more emphasized repeat of her answer.

Uh-huh. Just gimme.

Finally, with a look that one reserves for someone asking for something weird, she gave me a piece of the cake.

Best snack I'd had in a long time.

Recently, I did a quick on-line search (hat tip to Mamma for her help) and found a recipe for crumb cake. In about another half-hour....

(No, I'm not saving you any. But I'll pass along the recipe. As soon as I can figure out how to make Blogger stop taking out my spaces. Or, by e-mail if requested.)

(UPDATE: Here's the recipe. Never try to out-stubborn a German.)


   Amount  Measure       Ingredient 
 --------  ------------  ------------
    2      cups          Sifted flour
    1½     cups          Brown sugar 
   1/2     cup           Margarine
    1                    Egg, well beaten
   1/2     cup           Additional flour
    2      teaspoons     Baking powder
    1      teaspoon      Cinnamon
   3/4     cup           Milk

Mix sifted flour, sugar and softened margarine until crumbly.

Set aside 1/2 cup flour. To the remaining crumb mixture, add remaining ingredients as given above. Beat well with mixer on low speed. Spread evenly in a greased 8" square pan. Sprinkle reserved crumbs over top and bake at 350~ for 35 to 40 minutes or until inserted toothpick comes out clean. Dust warm cake with powdered sugar before cutting.

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Nutty Nursery Rhymes

2009-06-03T13:51:00.002-05:00

Mary had a little lamb
its fleece was white as snow
and everywhere that Mary went

she stepped verrrrrry carefully.

~~~~~
Little Tom tinker
sat on a clinker

Dumb ass

~~~~~
Rock-a-bye baby
in the tree top

How the frell did the baby get in the tree top?

~~~~~
Jack and Jill went up the hill
to fetch a pail of water
Jack fell down and broke his crown

and Jill didn't have enough sense not to follow.

~~~~~
Peter Peter Pumpkin eater
had a wife and couldn't keep her

and she took him for everything in the divorce.

~~~~~
Little Miss Muffet
sat on her tuffet
eating her curves away

~~~~~
Jack and Jill went up the hill
each with a buck and a quarter.
Jill came down with two and a half.
Still think they went up for water?

~~~~~
There was an old woman
who lived in a shoe.
Her Visiting Teachers hardly ever came over.

~~~~~
Baa baa, black sheep
have you any wool?

You're kidding, right? I mean, when's the last time you saw a naked sheep?

~~~~~
Hickory, dickory dock
three mice ran up the clock.
The clock struck one
and the other two got away with minor injuries.

~~~~~
Little Jack Horner
Sat in a corner,
Eating a mincemeat pie.
He stuck in his thumb
And pulled out a plum,
And said,

"How the heck did this get in here?"

~~~~~
Little Miss Muffet
sat on her tuffet
eating her curds and whey
Along came a spider
and sat down besider her

and said "Whatcha got in the bowl, wench?"

Overheard In The Mall

2009-05-22T07:32:00.000-05:00

She: Sir, would you like a free blood pressure check?

He: Lady, the way I drive, high blood pressure is the least of my worries.

I disavow any knowledge as to who He is. :-)

A Line In The Sand

2009-05-14T06:53:00.004-05:00

For over 35 years, I've been a witness to the deliberate "dumbing down" of our society. And I've had enough.

No more.

As best I can figure, it all started with that ridiculous comment that "there's no such thing as a stupid question". Well, yes, there is. And heaven knows, I've heard most of them. Just yesterday, this subject came up and I allowed as how I was tired of walking thru stores and hearing "Are you finding everything all right?" (No, I've found a number of things that weren't all right. Here's your sign....")

And just as there are stupid questions, there are stupid answers. Some years ago, I called a business that was located on a street that goes straight east to west like a rifle shot. I asked "Are you on the north side of Montgomery Blvd. or the south side?". The answer? "We're above Montgomery." (Oh, so you're suspended in the air, floating above the street?)

Much of the blame for our current plight can be laid at the feet of those who not only do nothing to fix the problem, but who also put down those who would. I remember a few years ago when I made a remark about an article concerning the pending Y2K roll-over wherein the author commented that "most Americans feel that the new millenium begins on 1 January 2000". One person present said "Oh, you're not one of those purists, are you?". I did manage to hold my tongue, or I would have said "No, I'm just one of those people who can count." By not correcting sloppy thinking, we allow it to continue.

I've also had enough of mushy-headed drivel that sounds nice but says nothing. The other day -- per instructions -- I sent off an e-mail (with resume attached) to a company's "human resources co-ordinator". Here's the text of my e-mail:

Ma'am:

Ms. ________ ________ of the Tennessee Department of Labor and Workforce Development here in Chattanooga suggested I contact you regarding the subject position.

Per instructions, my resume (in MS Word format) is attached.

I'll spare you the usual "boilerplate" that comes in these cover letters and simply say that my 29½ years in the military involved mostly clerical/administrative work. More than 7½ years of that time was spent running the Orderly Room at my unit at Kirtland AFB. You will find that I am organized, methodical, and detail-oriented.

As a Senior Non-commissioned Officer, I am more than able to get the job done with a minimum of supervision.

I would be delighted to discuss this position with you and see how my administrative and organizational skills would enhance your operation.

You can reach me at any time on my cell phone (###-###-####) or by e-mail. I look forward to hearing from you in the near future.

And here's the response I got:

Dear Mr. Jahn:

Thank you for your interest in the Administrative Assistant position with (our company). Narrowing the field of candidates was very challenging.

After extensive review of your qualifications, we have moved forward with our recruitment process.

We appreciate your participation in the application process and wish you the best in your pursuit of successful and satisfying employment.

After a fun discussion with some other Linksters, I sent of the following reply:

Ma'am,

Thank you for your unexpectedly quick reply. Please let me know what the next step in the recruitment process is so that I can move forward.

Your company is apparently headquartered in Omaha, but the position is located here in Chattanooga. Please let me know soonest who I need to contact to get this going.

I look forward to working with your company.

I can't wait for the reply to that.

Having an IQ north of 140* and having no little experience with people who refuse to come right out and say what they mean, I believe I correctly deduced from the e-mail I received that I didn't get the job. But nowhere does she come right out and say that. That's my point, and that's what's wrong with our society.

(*Not that I place any great stock in IQ tests, but I add that as a point of reference.)

This kind of mushy-headed "thinking" has become all too pervasive in our society, and I've drawn a line. No more. A high schooler taking an algebra test is "mentally challenged"; a person with an IQ of 70 is retarded. Get used to it. A foreigner who sneaks across our border without our permission is an illegal alien, not an "undocumented worker". Get it right.

Another area where I've had enough is in the area of civility and manners. Remember the good old days, when barging up to someone and blurting out a question about something that's clearly none of your bloody business -- without even so much as an "excuse me" -- was considered rude? Apparently, that's no longer rude. But pointing out that the question should not have been asked, is. How perverse is that? Remember when butting into a conversation that one is not a party to was considered rude? Now, "rude" is defined as ignoring people who try to insinuate themselves into a conversation. Or, worse yet, pointing it out.

I've also had it with bullies, especially the cowardly type who go complain to some third party about something they "don't like" or aren't "comfortable" with, in the hope that that third party will do something about it. You got a problem with someone? Then it is incumbent upon you to resolve it directly with that person. If you're not adult enough to do that, shut up about it.

Bis hierher und nicht weiter.

.

Modern-Day Dinosaur

2009-04-24T10:43:00.001-05:00

"There is a world of difference between true beauty and mere physical attractiveness."
-- Master Doh-San

Are 'beauty' pageants an anachronism?

Should they be done away with? Have they outlived whatever "usefulness" they might ever have had?

Or could we maybe make some changes?

How about these:

-- No more swimsuit competition.

-- Amend the evening gown part to stipulate that all gowns must cover the same areas as temple garments.

-- The questioning part would consist of a jar containing pre-approved questions written on slips of paper. Each contestant selects a question at random. If she doesn't like that question, she can select another, but she's stuck with that one.

-- During the question part, contestants would not be allowed to wear any make-up.

-- The chief judge would be Simon Cowell.

-- The five finalists have to meet me back in the Green Room for a NCMO session. (OK, I'm just kidding about that one.)

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Payday

2009-04-17T16:03:00.002-05:00

The guy I work for now is part Egyptian and part German. He hired me recently, but we're still working out the schedule. It looks like I'll start in earnest on Monday (and no Sundays!).

I only "worked" 3 hours this pay period. He said he'd start me at $7/hr at first, then up to $12. So I go in today to get my measly $21 and he pays me $30. I didn't even notice it until I got over to SprawlMart. So I went back and said "Dude, you gave me too much money" (he paid me in cash b/c he's already done his April taxes and doesn't want to screw around re-doing it; plus, 3 hours is considered "casual labor" by the gummint). He says "What is problem?"

"You only owed me $21."

"What is problem?"

"You overpaid me."

"What is problem?"

(Blank stare)

Nice guy. I walked out talking to myself.

.

Was I Born Too Soon?

2009-03-26T12:04:00.001-05:00

It struck me the other day how many friends and acquaintances I have who are significantly younger than I am. To the point where two of them helped me perpetrate The Mother Of All Hoaxes a couple of years ago (until someone ratted us out, that is).

Up until I was about 40 or so, I used to play volleyball half the night with early 20-somethings. (And they played by Marquis of Queensbury rules.)

Odd, huh?

Simply Living

2009-02-28T09:54:00.003-05:00

Got some updates over there. Take a look.

Another Bucket List

2009-02-25T12:47:00.001-05:00

Check off all that apply:

(x) Seen way too many of those "check off all that apply and forward it to everyone you ever met" lists.

The Other Side Of The Coin

2009-02-19T13:49:00.002-05:00

People who know me well know that I'm not at all reticent about screaming bloody murder when someone's done me wrong. But I'm nothing if not fair, no doubt a product having been treated unfairly many times over the years. And so it is that I at least try to speak up when I see things done well.

And so it was that I stopped by the local Shell station this morning to pick up some Pepsi (one of life's necessities; besides, they had it on sale) and took the occasion to ask to speak to The Manager (not the "assistant manager on duty" -- The Manager). With a reassuring "It's nothing bad" from me, the clerk scampered off to fetch The Manager, who appeared a moment later with a quizzical look on her face.

Accustomed as she is to hearing complaints, what came next must have been a bit of a shock to her system. I explained that her station had become my new default station for buying gas, due to reasons:

- when gas hit $4, they stopped buying until the price came down, since they were among those in town who didn't feel right about the consumer getting gouged;

- their price wasn't the absolute lowest in town, but it was within a few cents -- close enough for my purposes; and

- since getting my gas there, I've noticed a marked improvement in engine performance.

The poor woman's probably sitting around talking to herself now.

8 Simple Rules For Living

2009-02-15T19:28:00.001-05:00

1. All I really want is to be understood. Hence, the yelling.

2. Sometimes it helps to count to 10 on your fingers. Or just one, if you know what I'm saying.

3. The secret to leading a tranquil life is to ignore petty annoyances & save your anger for really serious matters. Like if somebody looks at you funny.

4. It's important to vent your frustrations. But you have to recognize the appropriate time and place to vent and blow off steam. For me it's anytime, anyplace.

5. My idea of a high-stress job is any job where you have to work with other people.

6. To stay relaxed in today's frantic, stressful world, you have to force yourself to stop & put your feet up. I put mine up just high enough to kick the butt of whoever is annoying me.

7. I don't see the glass as half-empty or half-full. I see it as a glass somebody else has already put their lousy germs on.

8. School prepares you for the real world, which also sucks.

Hamming It Up

2009-02-06T19:04:00.001-05:00

Well, I gave it my best shot.

Went down this evening and took the Technician Class ham radio test.

Very disappointing results.

I only scored a 94.28571429%

*hangs head in shame*

None Of My Concern

2009-02-02T18:25:00.002-05:00

Sometimes, I get irritated at the way Americans butcher German words. You'd think they'd do a better job pronouncing words that come from a language that forms about half of their own. The worst, of course, is that "Jahn" comes out every which way except "yon".

But I got to thinking about a guy I worked with years ago who had been station at Ramstein AB, near Kaiserslautern. He kept talking about something he referred to as the "concern". For the life of me, I couldn't figure out what he was talking about. Just as I was about to give up, the light went on. He was referring to the "Kaserne" (kah-SAIR-neh; meaning "barracks").

Sheesh....

And your total is....

2009-01-13T21:07:00.001-05:00

OK, so the ol' Jahnmobile developed a bit of an oil leak last week. I've been losing up to a half a quart of oil a day, and I wasn't even really going anywhere. Anyway, I called the mechanic (Ralph) last week and he said I could go ahead and bring it in Monday (yesterday), which I did.

As the office guy was filling out the paperwork, I asked him to call me when Ralph was getting pretty much done, as it takes about an hour and a half to travel all the way down there on the city bus. He asked me if I wanted them to call me with an estimate before actually doing repairs (never a good sign). I kind of winced and said yes.

Walked back to the bus stop, caught the next bus and went home, with a stop at Aldi on the way so I could grab some grub. Wasn't in the door 10 minutes when the phone rang. Ralph calling. Bus is ready. And the total was....

$14.75

Turns out, it was a bad valve cover gasket. (Bad gasket! Bad! Sit! Stay! Stay.........!)

Puttin' On The Glitz

2009-01-05T19:47:00.002-05:00

I'm really not in the habit of endorsing stuff, but my Linkster friend Lauren now has her own site on Etsy where she's peddling some of the best jewelry I've ever seen. Really cool stuff. Even if you're not in the market for jewelry, it's worth taking a look at. (Click on images to enlarge.)

Overheard In The Check-Out Line

2008-12-29T11:18:00.001-05:00

Customer: Those environmentalists are killing me. Last year, I got a lump of coal in my stocking. This year, all I got was a rock.

The Origins of Christmas Traditions

2008-12-11T20:17:00.001-05:00

When four of Santa's elves got sick, the trainee elves did not produce toys as fast as the regular ones. Santa began to feel the pre-Christmas pressure. Then Mrs. Claus told Santa her Mother was coming to visit, which stressed Santa even more.

When he went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to give birth and two others had jumped the fence and were gone... only Heaven knows where.

He began to load the sleigh anyway. One of the floorboards cracked, the toy bag fell to the ground and all the toys were scattered.

Being frustrated, Santa went into the house for a cup of apple cider and a shot of rum. But at the cupboard, he discovered the elves had drunk all the cider and hidden the liquor. In his frustration, he accidentally dropped the cider jug. It broke into hundreds of little glass pieces all over the kitchen floor. He went to get the broom and found the mice had eaten all the straw off the end of the broom.

Just then the doorbell rang. An irritated Santa marched to the door, yanked it open, and there stood a little angel with a beautiful, big Christmas tree.

The angel said very cheerfully, 'Merry Christmas, Santa! Isn't this a lovely day? I have a beautiful tree for you. Where would you like me to put it?'

And so began the tradition of the little angel on top of the Christmas tree.

Living Simply

2008-12-05T20:43:00.002-05:00

So, I've decided to aggregate all my little money-saving, time-saving, handy, helpful hints into yet another blog.

Comments will be enable for all but the very first post, which is dated so that it'll always remain on top.

As time goes by, I plan to add all my recipes (organized, of course), as well as some handyman-type tips.

No???

2008-11-11T17:54:00.002-05:00

One of my Linkster friends (Deb? Dori?) was telling us a couple of years ago about a trip to a restaurant where she tried to order a glass of water instead of the proffered iced tea. Quoth the waitress: "I don't think we have any....." Of course, her reaction was predictable: "How do they make iced tea with no water???"

Anyway, today I decided to treat myself at one of my favorite Chinese restaurants. Great food, but fluency in English is obviously not a requirement to work there. In typical German fashion, I asked for "A glass of water. Not ice water, just plain water."

Yeah, right.

I hit the buffet and got back to my table to find... a glass of ice water.

Grrrr.....

When the waitress came by again, I pointed out the mistake and asked for a "glass of water. Not ice water, just plain water.". She stood there looking pensive and slowly said "No......"

"No"?! What the frell do you mean, "no"? What? Does the water come out of the faucet with the ice already in it?

After a bit, the manager came by and I finally got my glass of just plain water.

Good help is so hard to find.

The Duck and the Devil (I'm in the 93%)

2008-11-03T21:03:00.002-05:00

Interesting little item I got from one of my on-line friends:

There was a little boy visiting his grandparents on their farm.

He was given a slingshot to play with out in the woods.

He practiced in the woods; but he could never hit the target.

Getting a little discouraged, he headed back for dinner.

As he was walking back, he saw Grandma's pet duck.

Just out of impulse, he let fly with the slingshot, hit the duck square in the head and killed it. He was shocked and grieved!

In a panic, he hid the dead duck in the woodpile only to see his sister watching! Sally had seen it all, but she said nothing.

After lunch the next day, Grandma said 'Sally, let's wash the dishes'.

But Sally said, 'Grandma, Johnny told me he wanted to help in the kitchen.'

Then she whispered to him, 'Remember the duck?'

So Johnny did the dishes.

Later that day, Grandpa asked if the children wanted to go fishing and Grandma said, 'I'm sorry, but I need Sally to help make supper.'

Sally just smiled and said, 'Well that's all right, because Johnny told me he wanted to help'.

She whispered again, 'Remember the duck?' So Sally went fishing and Johnny stayed to help.

After several days of Johnny doing both his chores and Sally's, he finally couldn't stand it any longer.

He came to Grandma and confessed that he had killed the duck.

Grandma knelt down, gave him a hug and said, 'Sweetheart, I know. You see, I was standing at the window and I saw the whole thing, but because I love you, I forgave you. I was just wondering how long you would let Sally make a slave of you.'

Thought for the day and every day thereafter:

Whatever is in your past, whatever you have done... And the devil keeps throwing it up in your face (lying, cheating, debt, fear, bad habits, hatred, anger, bitterness, etc.)... whatever it is... You need to know that God was standing at the window and He saw the whole thing.

He has seen your whole life. He wants you to know that He loves you and that you are forgiven. He's just wondering how long you will let the devil make a slave of you.

The great thing about God is that when you ask for forgiveness, He not only forgives you, but He forgets.

It is by God's grace and mercy that we are saved.

Go ahead and make the difference in someone's life today.

Share this with a friend and always remember:

God is at the window!

When Jesus died on the cross, he was thinking of you!

If you are one of the 93% who will stand up for him, forward this with the title, 'I'm in the 93%'.

Would you believe 7% of people won't forward this?

Another Favorite Recipe

2008-10-13T17:54:00.002-05:00

Elephant Stew

Ingredients:

1 Elephant
10 Warthogs
100 kilograms tomatoes
half-ton potatoes
2 bags carrots
100 kilograms salt
1 wheelbarrow onions (heaped)
10 liters vinegar
20 liters chutney
4 Guinea fowl
2 rabbits (optional)

Method:

Hunt the elephant, warthog and guinea fowl. Hang guinea fowl to ripen. Cut elephant into edible chunks, (will take about a month). Boil the warthog with other ingredients (except guinea fowl) until nice and juicy. Now boil elephant chunks over high flames until tender. (will take about 4 weeks) and add everything together. Boil for another 5 to 7 days.

Produces about 3,500 helpings.

Note: If the above isn't enough, add the two rabbits. But be careful to use rabbits, and not hares. Some people object to hare in their stew.

Let 'Em Eat Cake

2008-10-13T11:43:00.002-05:00

....if I can get a recipe for frosting, that is. I tried some of that stuff in the can. Bleh. Now I'm looking for a recipe to make a light frosting from scratch. (I even have my own scratch.)

Any ideas? Anyone?

What Happens When You Misbehave

2008-10-07T11:51:00.007-05:00

You have to stand with your nose in the circle.

Some of us were talking the other day about punishments meted out by school teachers. I recounted that the most evil, diabolical, inhuman punishment I knew of was used by my high school English teacher. If you got caught misbehaving, the standard punishment was an hour in detention. Each teacher had his own form of penitence for miscreants. (And yes, I remember cleaning up the Chem Lab on at least one occasion.) One individual was rumored to have been sentenced to sweeping the parking lot with a hand broom.

However.... the worst one was the guy who taught Sophomore English, Senior English, and Senior Speech. If he kept you after school, you spent an hour doing..... nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

You didn't read. You didn't talk. You didn't listen to that transistor radio surreptitiously smuggled inside your jacket. You didn't even do homework.

You did nothing.

For an hour.

And if he caught you doing anything, the clock started ticking all over again. Needless to say, he kept very few students after school. And, to the best of my knowledge, there were no repeat offenders.

But the oddest was the one recounted by one of the Housekeeping supervisors. I had never heard of being required to stand with one's nose in a circle on the board. So she demonstrated.

I sure am glad I had my camera with me. :-)

Shhhh.....!

2008-09-22T16:21:00.003-05:00

Be vewy, vewy quiet!

I'm hunting bawoons. Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh!

Still More School Daze

2008-09-03T17:28:00.003-05:00

One way you know school is back in session:

It must be time for fraternity rushes.

(Picture taken at Hamilton Place Mall, Chattanooga.)

Best. Instructions. Ever. :-)

2008-08-26T18:58:00.000-05:00

OK, so I was rooting around in the local Big Lots, looking for some kind of decent plug-in air freshener. (Trust me -- when I take off my work shoes, you don't even want to be in the same ZIP code.)

Anyway, I came across one that's simply called "Method Aroma Pill". Goes for 4 bucks. Seemed nice. There's one in lavender, which is very relaxing. I buy it. I take it home. I read the instructions. I'm still laughing.

1. Holding fragrance bottle upright, remove cap. Do not remove wick. It's pretty important.

2. Keeping fragrance bottle upright, insert into bottom of pill.

3. Rotate bottle clockwise until tight. You know, righty-tighty.

4. Rotate plug of aroma pill to accommodate vertical or horizontal wall outlet. Insert aroma pill into wall outlet with glass bottle pointing down. Do not point sideways or else fragrance oil will spill. Gravity is mean like that.

Nice to see that someone, somewhere, still has a sense of humor.

Update:

Not an instruction, but....

On the back of the carboard my new camera case was mounted on:

"Holds all cameras small enough to fit."

Well, duh....

(And just how come they can't make it hold the cameras too big to fit???)

Military Humor

2008-08-21T19:08:00.001-05:00

Unlike the relationship between military food and food, military humor is actually funny.

New Terrorist Threat

2008-08-08T17:48:00.001-05:00

At Sydney Airport today, an individual -- later discovered to be a public school teacher -- was arrested trying to board a flight while in possession of a compass, a protractor, and a graphical calculator. Authorities believe he is a member of the notorious Al-Gebra movement. He is being charged with carrying weapons of math instruction.

Overheard On The Radio

2008-08-07T19:33:00.001-05:00

Today at the mall:

"71 to 300."

"300. Go ahead."

"Yeah, there's a bit of a mess down here in front of American Eagle. Looks like a whole colony of dust bunnies got loose. Someone should corral them before they get away and start breeding."

"10-4. 305, you copy?"

"10-4"

"Be careful. It looks like they've gone feral. They get vicious when they're cornered."

Disclaimer: I disavow any knowledge as to who "71" is.

I Lost A Friend Today

2008-08-03T20:36:00.002-05:00

OK, not totally and completely lost. But lost nonetheless. She dropped off of LinkUp because of a few immature jerks in need of a little wall-to-wall counseling session.

I don't know what it is that makes some people misbehave the way they do. Even as far back as high school, I could never understand why some guys behave the way they do around women. Do they really think that "You're hot!" is the way to a woman's heart? Idiots.

And on top of that, they have to turn to insults when she doesn't respond favorably. Yeah, what a way to win friends and influence people.

Oddly enough, when Dori first started showing up around LinkUp, I ignored her. Didn't really want to have anything to do with her. In all fairness, she's one of the few naturally photogenic people I've ever met. You'd really have to put some effort into taking a bad picture of her. Cynic that I am, I just figured she was another one of those stuck-up narcissists I used to run into so often. Then I found out that she's friends with Deb, and I figured anyone who's Deb's friend has to be at least OK. And I found out what an awesome person she really is. My life is the better for having gotten to know her.

Well, I have her e-mail and her blog address. So I can pop around there from time to time and maybe she'll pop in here once in a while and take in my crazy rants.

But if I ever run into any of those morons....

RSS Feeds

2008-07-22T17:49:00.003-05:00

If anyone knows how to add a button to enable other people to use RSS feeds to read this thing, I'd appreciate knowing it. There's ~~thousands~~, ~~hundreds~~, ~~dozens~~, ~~several~~, a couple of people who might like to get the feed.

Computer Resources

2008-07-22T17:31:00.003-05:00

(No one pays me for this, so it could hardly be called "endorsing".)

My friend Deb is having a wee bit of problems with her 'puter. Looks like it has to go into the shop for a bit. It dawned on me that there is the possibility that her woes might have been prevented by a little extra maintenance. Unfortunately, the average user* is largely unaware of the available tools.

So.... on to today's Public Service Announcement: Get ye hence to Major Geeks and d/l some of their goodies. I've been using:
Wise Disk Cleaner;
Wise Registry Cleaner;
AusLogics Disk Defrag; and
QSys Registry Defrag

for some time now, and I'm very pleased with the results. The first time you run them, it will take a while, due to the enormity of the first-time job. After that, it usually only takes less than half an hour (and I run them in the order I've listed them). After the initial run, you'll probably only get a 1% or 2% improvement if you run them weekly. YMMV

Fighting Battles

2008-07-16T20:14:00.002-05:00

I can't say for sure that there's a direct connection, but the timing was suspicious.

A few days ago, someone -- possibly a visitor, but who cares? -- parked in my space. (Each apartment has one reserved space.) This is the third time this has happened (a different vehicle each time), and in each instance I've done the same thing: left a carefully worded note on the windshield. Lest anyone think that I really am A Rotten Human Being, the full text of my note is as follows:

You are parked in a reserved space. Park in your own space or one of the unmarked ones.

Yeah, really obscene, I know.

Yesterday, I spotted a woman from the office going around and leaving a note on (almost) everyone's door. (I checked with the woman who works at the mall and lives over in another building. No note on her door.) What caught my attention -- after the usual boilerplate about reserved spaces, visitor spaces, and notifying the on-site security guy -- was the last line:

"There is NO need for anyone to have to leave a note on anyone else's car."

Yeah, right. Don't ever do anything for yourself. Run to mommy or daddy and let them handle it.

Apparently, someone got their knickers in a twist and went whining to TPTB about my note. Anonymously, no doubt. Whether or not they identified the space -- as opposed to just the building -- is academic. What really rots my socks is the sure knowledge that TPTB are more concerned that some whiny little cry-baby got their "pwecious widdle feewings" hurt than that someone's right to a reserved parking space was violated. The other odious aspect is the idea that I have no right to act for myself, but have to go running to someone else to fight my battles.

I'll fight my own battles, TYVM.

Why I Haven't Been Blogging

2008-07-02T19:39:00.002-05:00

I've been too busy with other stuff.

When All Else Fails....

2008-05-28T21:11:00.001-05:00

...follow instructions!

Yesterday, I took my bus downtown to a mechanic to get the valves adjusted. Knowing in advance that it would take about an hour to do the job, and that it would take about an hour to ride the city bus back down to pick it up, and that the bus had to sit for a couple of hours to let the valves cool before they could be properly adjusted, I told the mechanic to call me just before he started the job. That way, by the time I could walk out to the city bus stop, ride downtown, and walk from the bus stop to the shop, he'd be done.

So when did he call me?

After he had finished.

Another hour of my life I'll never get back.

And now I need to find another mechanic who works on VWs.

Moving is EXHAUSTING!

2008-05-19T18:41:00.002-05:00

(Hat tip to my friend Deb for the title line. Ü)

OK, so a chance to move came up quite unexpectedly and über-schnell, so I jumped all over it like a rooster on a june bug. It was already after the first of May and I had said I was going to be out of the house by the end of April. So I had to go. It took about 12 trips over two days, but I did it. All by myself. And I can't believe that I schlepped that recliner all the way up the stairs alone.

Of course, there's a difference between "moving in" and settling in. Yeah, I'll be living out of boxes for a while, but at least I've got room to spread out a bit. And I can now walk around in my own home barefoot for a change. Something I haven't been able to do in well over a year.

The only down side is that I miss waking up with a certain someone's cold, wet nose in my face. I just hope she's not going thru too much separation anxiety.

Quote Of The Week

2008-05-03T18:03:00.002-05:00

"Oh, East is East and West is West
and never the twain shall meet;
'til Earth and Sky stand presently
at God's great judgement seat.
For there is neither East nor West,
border, breed, nor birth
where two strong men stand face-to-face,
though they come from the ends of the Earth".

(from Kipling's "Ballad Of East And West")

Don't know what made me think of that, but I've always liked it. Even though very few people know it past the first two lines. Ü)

Hoping For Change

2008-04-14T17:59:00.002-05:00

(Wow. I can't believe it's been over a month since I posted anything here.)

The other day at work, someone was asking me if I had change for a $5. Reminded me of an incident down at Robins AFB shortly after I had started there. Some poor little airman came up to me and asked "Uh, Sgt Jahn, do you have change for a five?" With a bit of a laugh, I said "Man, a five is change!" He laughed, too, so it was OK.

(And you thought this was gonna be about politics.... Ü)

To Blog Or Not To Blog

2008-03-08T19:19:00.002-05:00

One of the really nice things about blogging is that I at least get to keep up on the goings-on in the lives of my friends and acquaintances. One who almost always gives me something to think about is my friend Deb, who now lives up on Washington State with her (relatively new) husband, who I also know from LinkUp.

One of the challenges she -- and a lot of us, I'm sure -- faces is trying to remember an idea for a blog. BTDT. I try to keep pen and paper handy so I can jot down notes, but it doesn't always work out. (Another trick I've tried in the past is carrying a micro cassette recorder. That's not always feasible, but it helped when I had it.) Of course, from my own Zen viewpoint, I had to point out that once in a while she (as well as the rest of us) needs to "empty her mind". It takes time to develop that skill, but it pays off.

Of course, the other challenge is deciding what to blog about and how to go about it.

As regards the "what", that's the easy part -- whatever strikes one as being significant at any point in time. I'm not one of those people who insist on posting/writing something every single day. That's way too contrived. Some days, there's just nothing of note to write about. Other days, there might be lots. Or there might be something from the recent past that strikes one as significant in the new moment. Blogs and journals were made for people, not the other way around.

The "how" really ought to be just as simple. What's your particular "take" on a subject? For me, being (at least nominally) a Christian, but also being -- philosophically and politically -- a l/Libertarian, the approach is rather easy. The one fly in the ointment is the ability that all Zen Masters have of seeing a situation from many sides simultaneously, without necessarily agreeing or disagreeing with any of them. So I fall back on the Christian and libertarian aspects. As well as my own warped sense of humor. (For the record, Deb also has a wicked sense of humor, so she brings that to the table.)

Bottom line: your blog should be about you -- about the things you see as significant, seen from your unique perspective.

At least, that's the way I see it. And I thought it important enough to blog about. :-)

Company Leave Policy

2008-03-03T13:45:00.001-05:00

To: All Employees
Subj: New Leave Policy

1. Sickness: No excuse! We will no longer accept your doctor's statement as proof, as we believe that if you are able to go to a doctor, you are able to come to work.

2. Leave of Absence: (For an operation) We will no longer allow this practice. We wish to discourage any thoughts that you might need an operation, as we believe that as long as you are an employee here, you will need all of whatever you have, and you should not consider having anything removed. Also, we hired you as you are and anything removed would certainly make you less than what we bargained for.

3. Death: (Other than your own) This is no excuse. There is nothing you can do for them, and we feel sure that someone else with a lesser position can attend to the arrangements. However, if the funeral can be held in the late afternoon, we will be glad to let you off 30 minutes early, provided that your share of the work is ahead enough to keep things going in your absence.

4. Death: (Your own) This will be accepted as an excuse, BUT we must have two weeks advance notice, as we feel it is your duty to train someone else to do your job.

5. Also, entirely too much time is being spent in the restrooms. In the future, we will follow the practice of going in alphabetical order. For instance, those whose names begin with "A" will go from 8:15 to 8:30, "B" will go from 8:30 to 8:45, and so on. If you are unable to go at your time, it will be necessary to wait until your turn comes around again.

Scam Alert!

2008-01-25T18:44:00.000-05:00

A 'Heads Up' for men who might be regular Home Depot or Lowe's customers.

I recently became a victim of a clever scam while out shopping.

Simply going out to get supplies has turned out to be quite traumatic. Don't be naive enough to think it couldn't happen to you or your friends. Here's how the scam works:

Two seriously good-looking 20-something girls come over to your car as you are packing your purchases into the trunk. They both start wiping your windshield with a rag and Windex, almost falling out of their skimpy T-shirts. It's impossible not to look. When you thank them and offer them a tip, they say 'No' and instead ask you for a ride to another Home Depot or Lowes. You agree and they get in the back seat. On the way, they start undressing. Then one of them climbs over into the front seat and starts crawling all over you, while the other one steals your wallet.

I had my wallet stolen December 4th, 9th, 10th, twice on the 15th, 17th, 20th & 24th. Also January 1st, 4th, twice on the 6th, three times just yesterday, and very likely this coming weekend.

So tell your friends to be careful.

Don't Try This At The Office

2008-01-23T03:38:00.000-05:00

(Hat Tip to JB for this one.)

Just try this. It is from an orthopedic surgeon:

This will boggle your mind and you will keep trying over and over again to see if you can outsmart your foot, but you can't. It's pre-programmed in your brain!

1. Without anyone watching you (they will think you are GOOFY) and while sitting where you are at your desk in front of your computer, lift your right foot off the floor and make clockwise circles.

2. Now, while doing this, draw the number "6" in the air with your right hand. Your foot will change direction.

I told you so!!! And there's nothing you can do about it! You and I both know how stupid it is, but before the day is done, you are going to try it again, if you've not ready done so. Send it to your friends to frustrate them too.

(Yeah, I couldn't do it either.)

He's Baaa-aaack!

2008-01-15T11:10:00.001-05:00

Yeah, got my laptop back yesterday and spent all evening re-loading almost all the software I had on it before. The good part is that I now have a 40gb HD instead of just 18. And the old 18gb is now an external drive, with all my files still on it.

All I have to do now is figure out how to get the sound working again.

Stupid Windows XP SP3 Beta release.....

40 Years On

2007-12-19T19:30:00.000-05:00

It was exactly 40 years ago today that my Dad dropped dead of a heart attack at work. Someone once said that there are things we never really get over, we just get used to them. I guess this is one of them.

My Dad was an old-fashioned kind of guy -- an honorable man of simple tastes. He wasn't my "friend" -- he was my father; an authority figure. But that doesn't mean that he was a cold disciplinarian. We had an awful lot of fun together. As far as discipline goes, his greatest quality was consistency. If something was wrong today, it was wrong last week, and I can guarantee you it'd be wrong six months from now.

I learned a lot from my Dad, an appreciation of fine music being one of them. He taught me how to read music before I ever touched an instrument. (He had taught music professionally in New Bern, NC.) He played several instruments, steel guitar being the foremost. And he sang remarkably well. I can still hear him singing "Der frohe Wanderer" and "Tief d'rin im Böhmerwald". He was an excellent storyteller, too, and I only wish I had been able to record in some way the many stories he told us.

With the recent passing of Dan Fogleberg, I'm reminded of a very fitting tribute from one of his hits, "Leader Of The Band"

"The leader of the band is tired
and his eyes are growing old.
But his blood runs thru my instrument
and his song is in my soul.
My life has been a poor attempt
to imitate the man.
I'm just a living legacy
to the leader of the band.

I thank you for the music
and your stories of the road.
I thank you for the freedom
when it came my time to go.
I thank you for the kindness
and the times when you got tough.
And, papa, I don't think I said
'I love you' near enough."

No Nativity In Washington

2007-12-17T23:24:00.000-05:00

(Hat tip to Teri Le for this one.)

The Supreme Court is said to have ruled that there cannot be a nativity scene in Washington, DC this Christmas.

This isn't for any religious or constitutional reason at all. They simply have not been able to find three wise men and a virgin in the nation's capitol.

There was no problem, however, finding enough asses to fill the stable.

The Day The Music Died (Again)

2007-12-17T16:35:00.000-05:00

The music world has lost yet another legend. Dan Fogleberg has passed away from prostate cancer. Anyone not familiar with his music has no business calling himself or herself a music buff. His music was among what little that made the '70s bearable.

As a side note, my Dad was a professional musician and taught music. In fact, he started teaching me music a few years before he died. One of the greatest compliments I can pay to another musician is to say that my Dad would have liked his/her music. I'm sure my Dad would really enjoy such goodies as "Longer" or "Leader Of The Band".