Taking That New GPS Out for a Spin

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COLUMN: Go with the Flow

By Tobin Barnes
I got a Rolex watch for Christmas.

Of course, me, a high school teacher, wearing one of those insanely expensive watches is like Jed Clampett teaching philosophy at Harvard. There’s something wrong with the picture.

Chuck’s son Rob gave it to me. He gave my wife a Rolex, too. To say the least, it seemed an embarrassment of riches.

This all happened when we were at Chuck’s Christmas Day for a gathering of some of my wife’s side of the family.

I’ve talked about Chuck before.

He likes to refer to me as his brother-in-law. I’d rather refer to him as my wife’s sister’s husband. It gives me the mindset to think of this as a pretty distant relationship.

Anyway, Chuck’s a character.

He’s the guy who bought six pink sports jackets because they were a great buy at fifteen bucks apiece. By that token, six squirrel hides at a quarter apiece would be a great buy, too.

He’s also the guy who bought a seven-hundred-dollar art print. He had to show it to me first thing I got there one time. I hadn’t known he was such a committed art lover. The price tag was still on the back...$700, in black ball point. “I added a zero,” he said.
Chuck’s kids don’t have quite the character characteristics he does, thank God.

Children oftentimes bounce off their parents and decide to head in the opposite direction. Nevertheless, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Chuck’s kids can still be Chuck in their own tangential way.

So Rob gave my wife and me our own Rolexes, both in one small black box with little medallions certifying Swiss workmanship and authenticity.

He’d bought them several years ago when he was serving in Iraq with his National Guard unit. He bought nine black boxes of Rolexes at the time, knowing they’d come in handy eventually. I guess a shopper’s got to snap up bargains with the future in mind.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think Rob thinks they’re truly Rolexes, and I don’t either. But who am I to know? It’s not like I can ask him how much he paid for them.

I just go with the flow in Chuck’s house just like Chuck himself does.

Several months ago, my wife and another sister were visiting Chuck’s wife, Joey, for a few days. The two visiting sisters decided to rearrange the living room furniture, perhaps not-too-subtlely implying that Chuck and Joey’s arrangement had been pretty darned inadequate for nigh on thirty-some years, and as visitors, they weren’t going to take it anymore.

So Chuck comes home to find his calm and order surprisingly rearranged and the sisters still at that moment assiduously improving things in other parts of his house. I mean, who amongst your invited guests goes so far as to rearrange your furniture?

Well, Chuck’s wife’s sisters do.

But Chuck evidently went with it because when we got there on Christmas Day, the furniture was still in the same positions as the sisters had moved it. That is, with the exception of his TV lounger. No way, for the sole sake of stylishness, was he going to turn his head and get a crick in his neck just to watch TV.

And, let’s see...what else was going on?

Oh yeah, this other sister I’ve been talking about, Ann, told us she’d recently gotten a Kindle, one of those electronic book readers that have become popular. We’ve had one for about a year now and had highly recommended it to her.

Perhaps you’ll remember that it is Ann who finds the nearness of “Employee-of-the-Month” reserved parking spaces at big-box retailers a fine personal convenience, not to mention a great time saver on her busy shopping trips.

Anyway, Ann says she likes her Kindle so much she takes it to church with her. Because the Kindle comes with a black leather case, even from a short distance it could easily pass for a hymnal or prayer book.

Taking your Kindle to church gives all new meaning to the minister’s oft-heard instruction: “Open your books and let us pray.”

COLUMN: Give yourself a break

By Tobin Barnes
Look out. There’s a tradition circling around in the gleeful holiday atmosphere that tries to guilt you into making those little kind-of-difficult resolutions for the new year.

Bah! Humbug!

That’s right. Follow me and resist that Mary Sunshine twaddle with every fiber of your being.

If you’re a fairly mature (relax, no one gets all the way to full maturity), tax-paying, law-abiding, most-of-the-worst vices-avoiding, halfway-decent adult, you’ve already got plenty of pain-in-the-heinie things to do on an everyday basis. Please, don’t add to the list.

Think you’re going to win a prize by adding more difficulty to your life? Take a powder.

Besides, let’s face it, if you haven’t made those little tweaks to your performance by now, it’s probably not going to happen. Period.

(Disclaimer: I’m not talking about those who smoke their lungs into dust, gamble their finances into foreclosure, or drug themselves into oblivion. Those people need more dedication and perhaps professional help than a New Year’s Resolution is going to do them. They don’t need to resolve, they need to get on a program.)

On the other hand, the average better-yourself-a-little resolution just leads to yet another guilt trip. So spare yourself.

Of course, the hair shirt-wearing Puritans amongst you would disagree. But H.L. Mencken wisely described Puritanism as “The haunting fear that someone, somewhere, may be happy.” So don’t give in to it.

Like me, use the current holiday spirit self-compassionately and make some goof-proof resolutions instead.

For example, when there’s a good golf tournament on TV, I’m resolving to lie down on my couch and watch it, by golly. Yup, I’m going to Tivo it ahead of time, and I’m going to just plant myself there, fast-forward through the commercials, and wallow in golf, golf, golf.

And you know what? I’m going to score a near-100 percent success rate. (That’s if my wife doesn’t work herself into the equation. Then, of course, I’m dealing with a cosmic force, and as all you husbands know, all bets, not to mention resolutions, are completely off the grid. So it goes.)

Anyway, Tiger Woods is coming back this season from his injury, and he’ll be as good as ever, and there’s a bunch of young players out there who’ll challenge him and even beat him once in a while, and, hey, that’s fun, too.

Okay, okay. I know. Golf puts some unresolved people to sleep, poor ignorant souls, but I tell you: This, my 2009 TV golf resolution, is bound for glory.

And another thing about golf. If I get a chance to play a round or two or even thirty, I’m going to play them. Uh huh, another slam dunk. Pow!

And here’s another easy resolution. When I don’t feel like writing a column, I’m not going to write one. Another 100 percenter!

That brainstorm comes from many hours of scientific self-study. It’s led me to this conclusion: When I don’t want to do something, it’s hard to do, but then when I don’t do it, it’s easy.

From now on, I’m going to write columns only when they write themselves. When I mysteriously find myself tapping out an idea and it all just kinda happens. Voila!

Like this one. I’m obviously not even thinking while I’m doing this one.

No more working and reworking a mediocre idea into something presentable. No more Sisyphus pushing a rock up the mountain. Those huffer-and-puffer columns usually aren’t as good anyway.

So if it isn’t easy to write and fun, fun, fun--like golf, golf, golf--it’s not going to happen. I’m going to be temporarily off the radar. Yeah, I won’t be there then.

Sorry, but we’ll both be better off.

UT Fan MD examines OU rival

(Sent by Tom Cooley)

Late Night Monologues

Monologue | Aired Wednesday night on CBS: Anthropologists have found — and this is crazy — a well-preserved brain. They believe it’s from the Middle Ages. Here’s the surprise. They found it in the head of Dick Cheney.

But Dick Cheney said that we made the right decision to go to war in Iraq. And I said to myself, “Well, that’s good enough for me, by God.” Read more…

And Thursday night: Now here’s something historical. In January, all five living presidents are scheduled to have lunch together. Clinton suggested the VIP room at Hooters.

Beer Launcher

(Sent by Roy Wilson)

COLUMN: Back to Economics 101

By Tobin Barnes
I’ll admit it. I’m not the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree, but the recent haggling over the nation’s economy has me confused.

Granted. We’re all going to hell in a hand basket, right? Who isn’t convinced of that? It’s already starting to feel a little toasty.

Even George Bush has gotten grayer lately. Uh huh, the same guy who thinks the jury’s still out on global warming, despite videos of polar bears desperately paddling to distant chunks of ice.

Yeah, even W thinks we’re in big trouble. No more Alfred E. Neuman likenesses there. Dawn has finally broken.

Then there’s Henry Paulson, the Treasury secretary. He’s got that distinct “deer in the headlights” look, too. Every time I see him, his eyes get bigger.

Paulson started out as a juggler, trying to loop pots full of cash into a recovery. Now he’s more like a magician, making those same pots disappear without a trace.

And how about those pathetic CEO’s, humbly lining up before Congressional committees to get their pre-bailout spankings? Perspiration shining on their foreheads, sitting there in sweat-stained Armani’s?

Those upper-level managers couldn’t even plane-pool to the investigations to make it look good.

But they’re willing to take executive bonuses off the table.

Well how generous. Most Americans would say, “Bonus? What’s a bonus?”

Talk about sympathy for the devil.

Now, rather than bonuses, these poor over-rated Titans of Industry will have to live on the bloated salaries and past bonuses and perks they’ve been hogging for years, enough to endow their families well into the next century.

But here’s a good question: Why are they even still around? They not only ran their companies into the ground, they took the national economy down with them.

Give’em the boot. Bring some folks up from down on the cubicle farm. Give those layoff targets a shot instead. Heck, can’t do any worse.

And then there’s those outraged Congressmen and women, acting like this crisis dropped into their laps from some unseen passing buzzard.

Looking like they’d just gotten sucker-punched. Now they’re acting busy searching for the sneaky guys who did it.

Man, I’m telling you, what a cast of characters we’ve got here.

So you can see I’ve got questions. And here’s my biggest one.

From what I understand, wild-eyed, greed-soaked credit run amok evidently got us into this mess.

The result?

People are getting laid off in the tens of thousands. They’re maxed-out on their multiple, twenty-percent-interest credit cards. They’re paying more on their mortgages than their houses are worth.

And the solution, according to leading, talking-head economists?

We’ve got to loosen up those credit markets again. We’ve got to get America spending like drunken oil sheiks again. We’ve got to get those cash registers ringing again.

We’ve got to keep consumers stampeding the doorbuster sales (killing people in their greed). Get them back to being good patriotic American shoppers again.

And what’s wrong with that picture?

Am I the only one who thinks we’ve entered bizarro world? How is it possible that bottomless, unconscious debt for the individual is good for the nation?

There’s just got to be a better way. Like maybe common sense. The lack of which got us here in the first place.

Some Are Overpaid, This Guy Isn't

I'm Going to Start Practicing

Symbolic, Maybe?

Another Good One

Monologue | Aired Tuesday night on CBS: Listen to this, a guy in North Carolina, a mailman, a Federal employee, a postal worker, was arrested and put in jail. You know why? He would deliver regular mail, but he wouldn’t deliver junk mail. They got the guy, they arrested him, and they put him in prison. We got that guy, but still no word on bin Laden.

Finally we got some good news about the economy. Barack Obama got $800 billion to rescue the economy. All I can say is, “Thank you, Oprah.”

That Obama is a smart, hard-working guy. And he has promised now to stabilize the economy, going to rebuild the infrastructure, create millions of new jobs, catch bin Laden. President Bush said, “Uh, you can do that?”

A lot of people have forgotten about President Bush, but this transitional period is a busy time for President Bush as well. He’s busy granting pardons. Today, he pardoned Sarah Palin for her interview with Katie Couric.

And tomorrow, President Bush will pardon turkeys. This year, I think you know the turkeys, the Lehman brothers.

Here’s what I don’t like about the turkeys this year, they’re arrogant. These turkeys that they’re going to pardon this year, they’re arrogant. They’re flying in from Detroit on their private jets.

But right now, right this very minute, Dick Cheney is waterboarding the turkeys.

Good Monologue

Aired Monday night on CBS: I guess Sarah Palin is back in Alaska, where she pardoned some turkeys for Thanksgiving. So she pardons them and then right behind her, someone kills some turkeys, and it was gruesome. I honestly haven’t seen a slaughter like that since Nov. 4.

I heard today that the federal government was raising, like, $40 billion to bail out Citigroup. Honestly, when you think about it, who doesn’t really feel sorry for credit card companies?

NASA has developed a urine machine that will convert urine into water. Well, guess what? It’s on the blink. And you thought the coffee was bad where you work.

And down in Washington, D.C., the Capitol Hill Christmas tree arrived. And there is no surprise here. You know, they’ve got to decorate the tree. So the contract to decorate the tree, a $10 billion ornament contract, went to Halliburton.

Hillary Clinton is going to be secretary of State in the Obama Administration. Well, political insiders are now saying that Barack and Hillary actually have a good working relationship, but they don’t have a close personal relationship. No, wait a minute, that’s Hill and Bill.

Dude, Where's My Bailout?

COLUMN: Making Good Use of a Fool

By Tobin Barnes
Last time I was talking about putting up with fools. How some people don’t “suffer fools gladly.”

I said these persnickety people were probably miserable all the time, seeing as how humanity is liberally peppered with fools, including just about everybody’s inner fool lurking just below the surface ready to emerge at any given moment.

The only recourse, I said, is to learn to live with fools, even make them useful to a certain extent. Abraham Lincoln was a master at this. He sought the grain in others, even those contemptuous of him, and disposed of the chaff.

His tribulations have been much in the media lately as a comparison to Barack Obama’s massive challenges. You often hear the phrase “team of rivals,” taken from the fine book of the same name, since Obama, like Lincoln, seems willing to go out of his comfort zone for cabinet members and advisors.

Another recent book I’ve read about Lincoln’s superb leadership skills is “Tried by War” by James M. McPherson. Lincoln was not only adept at handling and using fools, he seemed to have sympathy for them: “If you look for the bad in people expecting to find it, you surely will.”

And “It has been my experience that folks who have no vices have very few virtues.”

Sometimes Lincoln was “wise enough to play the fool” himself. Allow others to underestimate him. Think they were dealing with a hayseed hick. Then he’d turn the tables on them. He knew that we make more blunders underestimating than overestimating.

Lincoln was surrounded by underestimating fools. Many of his generals during the Civil War were card carriers and proud of it. Some of his own cabinet members thought they’d make a better president than he. Scoffed at him behind his back.
Fools.

By the end of the war, these fools came to realize who was who: “Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak out and remove all doubt,” Lincoln said.

He understood psychological manipulation for benevolent ends, which is what great leadership is all about. Yes, Lincoln understood fools and fooling: “You can fool all the people some of the time, and some of the people all the time, but you cannot fool all the people all the time.”

He was a person contemporaries could seldom fool but were oftentimes fooled by him. And with a kindly air: “Am I not destroying my enemies when I make friends of them?”

Or “I don’t like that man. I must get to know him better.”

His depth of understanding of the human condition is a marvel. And like no other president, he could express the profoundest thoughts in a simple manner that any fool could understand: “America will never be destroyed from the outside. If we falter and lose our freedoms, it will be because we destroyed ourselves.”

“Be sure you put your feet in the right place, then stand firm.”

And his humor was unparalleled by any other politician before or since. Along with all his other great qualities, he was our wittiest President: “If this is coffee, please bring me some tea; but if this is tea, please bring me some coffee.”

“When you have got an elephant by the hind legs and he is trying to run away, it's best to let him run.”

“A woman is the only thing I am afraid of that I know will not hurt me.”

“If I were two-faced, would I be wearing this one?”

And best of all, Lincoln is still speaking to us: “Don’t interfere with anything in the Constitution. That must be maintained, for it is the only safeguard of our liberties.”

“I am a firm believer in the people. If given the truth, they can be depended upon to meet any national crisis. The great point is to bring them the real facts.”

“My dream is of a place and a time where America will once again be seen as the last best hope of earth.”

Best of the Monologues

Monologue | Aired Thursday night on CBS: Little cold outside today, kids? Well, so much for your global warming, you know what I’m saying.

John McCain announced today that he is beginning his 2010 senatorial campaign. And I’m thinking, wow! Two more years of a John McCain campaign, hey, cut me a slice of that!

But there are some nice aspects during the transition period. For example, the Bush twins gave the Obama girls a tour of the White House. It was very sweet, but the Obama girls got really scared because they heard creepy organ music coming from Cheney’s underground lair.

And then the Bush twins grabbed a candle and took the kids on a tour of Cheney’s torture chamber. Read more…

The Recap: When You Don't Have Time for It All

COLUMN: Fools Are Here to Stay

By Tobin Barnes
“And he didn’t suffer fools gladly.”

You often hear those words. They’re used to describe cranky people, particularly once they’re dead. Evidently, such souls didn’t enjoy putting up with nonsense and incompetence.

But then, who does?

The words first made an impression on me when I was looking into the English playwright and critic-at-large George Bernard Shaw. He’s the only person to win a Nobel Prize for Literature and an Oscar for his play-turned-into-a-movie, “Pygmalion.”

Much in his world seemed to irritate him, from nonsensical spelling rules to Victorian morals, and he was quick to express himself on such subjects, sparing no false idols. He once said, “My way of joking is to tell the truth. It’s the funniest joke in the world.”

Another time I ran into the phrase was when I read that Paul McCartney said his late bandmate George Harrison also “didn’t suffer fools gladly.” Of course, I’ve run into many other uses of the phrase that I can’t now remember. Same for you, I would imagine.

When I think of fools, I don’t necessarily think of people who are stupid (that often cannot be helped), but rather of people who pretend to know more than they do.

They’re the puffed-up types who pester us with the nonsense and incompetence that drives people nuts. Unfortunately, too many of our politicians and authority-types fall into this category.

Go ahead, make up a mental list. I’ll wait.

(Dum-de-dum-dum-dum.)

Didn’t take long, did it?

Yeah fools.

They’ll bluster knowledge and competence but can’t back it up. They’re all hat and no cattle, as they say in Texas. They’ll boldly leap to the forefront to take on challenges they’re all too ill-equipped to handle.

And deep down they know it.

Yeah, fools.

They’re the people poet Alexander Pope was referring to when he said, “Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.”

But wait.

We’re surrounded by fools. Heck, sometimes I surround myself with foolishness. Being a fool is part and parcel of being human.

That’s why I wonder about people who supposedly “didn’t suffer fools gladly.”

They must have been miserable.

P-o’d pretty much 24/7.

How could they have read the newspaper without getting apoplectic? How could they have sat down to Christmas dinner with black sheep, even white sheep, kith and kin? How could they have even walked down the street without blowing a gasket?

Veins must have stuck out of their faces like Kirk Douglas in “Spartacus.”

It’s like, take a chill pill, Man.

Fools aren’t going away anytime soon, Bro.

It’s the stuff of life, Homes.

Fools are already factored into the market as they say on Wall Street.

Some of our best Americans have been great with fools. Abraham Lincoln was a master. I’ve been reading another book about him, “Tried by War.”

Yeah, “another.”

I never grow tired of reading about gold old Abe. I don’t grow tired of writing about him either. I’ll have more to say about him soon.

Let's Make a Deal

From Best of Craigslist (Raleigh, N.C.):

I will trade my sombrero for your kayak.
Date: 2008-07-21, 10:21PM EDT

So, you finally realized that kayaks are work. You would much rather replace all that sweaty paddling with a cool, shady nap under a wide-brim hat dreaming of nachos.

You think about all the space in your garage that kayak’s taking up and just start to count how many jars of salsa you could fit on that shelf.

You remember last Cinco de Mayo when you showed up to the big party sans sombrero. Someone threw a bell pepper at your head.

Don’t you think it’s about time you traded in that kayak for a nice comfortable sombrero?

Okay. How about I also throw in a piñata with 300 dollars worth of loose change?

Think about it …I f you no longer need that 10-12 foot, sit-on-top kayak, I have a sombrero that—-and I’m not even lying—–would look stunning on you.

You think you look good in that poncho of yours, you just wait until the ladies get a load of you in that sombrero. Meow, indeed.

Call [DELETED] to talk details about what’s been missing in your life (my sombrero).

COLUMN: It Can Get That Bad

By Tobin Barnes
Haven’t written in about three weeks.

Needed a break. Needed to experience some writelessness. Needed to hunker down in it. Needed to get bored so I’d think writing might be a good idea again.

Well, I’m there faster than I thought.

That’s because it’s day three of our captivity. And nothing has changed in all that time.

They’ll need extra-big equipment to clear the road in our subdivision. We’re out here on a few acres about four miles outside town. If there’s life beyond the snow drifts, we’ve seen no evidence of it yet. Won’t get paroled until we hear a big engine moving snow and that beep, beep, beep as it backs up to take another run at it.

Never thought I’d long for that sound.

Problem is they’ll need extra-big equipment everywhere else, too. Who knows when our turn will come. And the temperatures are too cold for the kind of melting we need.

It’s not a recipe for freedom.

Sometimes I get the creepy feeling we’ll never get out of here. Isolation does that to you. Makes you feel like you’re the surprised victim in a Stephen King novel. You’d never volunteer to be in one of his books. But here I am. The five-foot drift outside our window at times takes on a malevolent aura.

Yeah, it was that kind of blizzard.

Heavy winds compacted the foot of snow to the consistency of concrete...almost. Dogs can walk over it, but when you try the same you break through. Then it’s a struggle. If the dogs could laugh, they would. You can see them trying.

Makes you wish you hadn’t tried to be a dog walking over a snow bank. Getting out turns into exercise the intensity of climbing Mt. Everest.

Only good a four-wheel drive will do you in this kind of snow is give you the false impression you can drive through it. Been there, done that. A few times. Won’t do it again. I’m not as dumb as I’ve behaved in the past. Need extra-big equipment to bust it up first.

By the way, where the hell is it?

There’s a fine line between not having enough time to do what you want to do and having too much time to do what you want to do. In other words, life plays with you. You’re the ball.

Now I’ve got too much time. Feel like old flattened gum on a linoleum floor.

When I’m teaching school, it’s rush, rush, rush. When I’m home for a couple snow days, it’s lounge, lounge, lounge. Where’s the happy medium? Why isn’t it ever rush, lounge, rush, lounge, rush, lounge?

Somebody screwed up big time. I could have designed life better.

At first, a snow day sounds nice.

But the glow of idleness is short lived. It takes only a couple hours to do all the things you don’t have time for on a work day, and that includes being happy that it’s a snow day and eating some pancakes.

After that, the hours start to drag. Before long, you’ve come to despise newscaster banter, so-called television drama and laugh tracks.

But if the electricity goes out, you’re overcome in a suicidal sweat.

By noon of the third day, the only thing left is writing a column.

Yeah, it gets that bad.

The Week's Worth a Recap

It Gets to Be a Long Day

“Hey, this isn’t a library. Either buy something or get outta here.”

Don't Settle for the Curry with Cranky Hamster

Found here.

One of Your Gutsier Hogs

Daily Show Weekly Roundup

Living Will

I,__________________, being of sound mind and body, do not wish to be kept alive indefinitely by artificial means. Under no circumstances should my fate be put in the hands of pinhead politicians who couldn't pass ninth-grade biology if their lives depended on it, or lawyers/doctors interested in simply running up the bills. If a reasonable amount of time passes and I fail to ask for at least one of the following:

Glass of wine
Chocolate
Margarita
Sex
Martini
Cold Beer
Chocolate
Chicken fried steak
Cream gravy
Sex
Mexican food
Chocolate
French fries
Chocolate
Pizza
Sex
Ice cream
Cup of tea
Chocolate
Chocolate
Sex
Chocolate

It should be presumed that I won't ever get better. When such a determination is reached, I hereby instruct my appointed person and attending physicians to pull the plug, reel in the tubes, let the 'fat lady sing,' and call it a day!

(Sent by Joey Larson)

Food for Thought

Pretty witty stuff:

More images here.

Latest Daily Show

Palin on SNL: In Case You Missed It (Which I did)

COLUMN: The Truth, the Whole Truth, and Nothing but the Truth

By Tobin Barnes
“The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”

We’ve heard those words countless times. When a person is sworn in to testify in a court room, he or she is asked to pledge to do exactly that.

Actually, we’ve heard that mantra so often, we tend to over-simplify it into, “Don’t lie!” But in the process of over-simplification, lies are sometimes allowed to run rampant.

Take political advertising, for instance.

But I’ll get back to that later.

First, let’s analyze, “The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.” Almost sounds redundant, doesn’t it. Why drag it out? For poetic effect?

Hardly.

There’s a good reason witnesses aren’t asked simply to tell “the truth.” Throughout mankind’s experience, that standard has been found to be nowhere near enough to get to the heart of the matter.

“The whole truth” is also necessary. As we’ve learned in life, leaving out most or even parts of the truth can greatly distort the meaning of telling the truth. When things are left out, even small amounts, the truth is not being served.

But that’s still not enough. We must also have “Nothing but the truth.”

A witness may relate the truth and the whole truth, but yet fall short by also including extraneous material that, again, may distort the meaning of the truth. He or she may “muddy the waters,” so to speak with distortions and prevarications, leaving the jurors with a less than clear impression of “The truth.”

Therefore, “The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”

And though sought in the courtroom, the standard seems to have no footing in the political world. Sadly, to an innocent babe in woods as I am, neither major political party sends their campaign ads through such a tough muster.

Instead, distortion seems to rule the airwaves and the print media. The whole truth is seldom represented unless you judge by small snippets. Sometimes only phrases, maybe.

Even those are often taken out of context. In doing so, we lose “the whole truth.”

And nothing but the truth? Everything except the kitchen sink is oftentimes thrown in with the truth to confuse and obfuscate.

In political advertising, truth all-too-often is not the goal. Truth is the intended victim. And again, sadly, it all too often works.

Now all this is allowed to happen because of free speech, and thank goodness for it. We cherish free speech, however perverse or contorted it can sometimes be, because theoretically its ultimate validity is rigorously tested in the marketplace of ideas where the populace determines whether that free speech shines light or simple conjures a bunch of fallacious hooey.

So eventually, after everyone has had their say, we come to an understanding of the truth, and in the meantime people have had the honored freedom to speak their piece.

But the problem comes with the “eventually” part. Eventually takes time, and in the heated and compact swirl of the political arena, the “eventually” may come well after the election when sneaking suspicions arise far too long after the deed has already been done.

And that’s where the truth can take a beating.

Given the choice, I’d naively wager most citizens would like the political parties to be wholly truthful and nothing but truthful in their campaigns, advertising and rhetoric--in other words, responsible guardians of the public welfare. After all, their candidates will potentially be in charge of that welfare.

But how can that compact with the people be valid when those same candidates used half-truths, deceit, and distortion to get into positions of power? Is it to be expected that they’ll thereafter suddenly see the light and side solely with the better angels of their nature once in office?

Again, hardly.

How unfortunate that the candidates who ask us to trust them have so often already intentionally breached that trust in their campaigns.

So what’s the electorate’s only recourse?

Never trust them again.

Two Pretty Good Standup Comedians

Both Obama and McCain are pretty darned funny. Both ten minute speeches are worth listening to:

Obama...Whatever

As you probably have figured, I'm an Obama guy, and I think I know why. Not everybody does. Listen in:

http://www.bpmdeejays.com/upload/hs_sal_in_Harlem_100108.mp3

(Sent by Roy Wilson)

Latest Monologue

‘He’s Tweaking That Financial Bailout’

Aired Monday night on CBS: Today’s Columbus Day, the day we celebrate Christopher Columbus discovering America, or as it is now known, “a fixer-upper.”

A lot of things on sale on Columbus Day. You can get a good deal on a dining room set, mattresses, General Motors.

President Bush, I think he said this in his weekly radio address, he said about the economic crisis, President Bush said, “It’s a good thing I’m in charge.” And I know that’s what we’re all thinking.

But Bush says he’s going to tweak the financial package. He’s going to tweak the financial bailout. That’s what he’s doing now. He’s tweaking that financial bailout. That’s like the captain of the Titanic tweaking the brunch menu.

Bush is trying to reassure Americans that things are going to get better soon. And I was thinking well sure, in three months he’ll be out of office. Read more …

COLUMN: A Wink Is as Good as a Nod to a Blind Horse

By Tobin Barnes
We’ve had a lot of winking going on recently in Presidential politics. John McCain winks a lot, and, disturbingly, so does his running mate, Sarah Palin.

I don’t know about you, but winking creeps me out.

It has ever since I was a kid. I used to caddy at the local country club in my hometown of Mitchell, South Dakota. I was an impressionable lower middle-class kid trying to make a few bucks over the summer. Same as a few other kids. My family never had much money, but members at the country club seemed to have plenty.

Of course, that’s relatively speaking. Those local country club members probably had nothing compared to real money outside South Dakota.

Anyway, we caddies would spend the day sitting around waiting for caddy jobs. One week this out-of-towner came along several days in a row. I think he was in town visiting some in-laws. Maybe he came out to the golf course to get away from them.

For some reason, he’d take time every day to talk to us caddies. And we were impressed. Generally, no one paid attention to us unless we got in the way.

He’d go into these monologues offering us his experiences and wisdom. It was kind of weird, really, now that I think back on it.

What I remember most about these sessions is that he’d punctuate his tidbits of advice about life with plentiful winks. And I was going along with it. I’d been around winkers before. But eventually he started launching into this philosophy that really turned me off.

He told us, “The world is for the takers.” And he’d repeat it again and again with winks, like he was making us privy to some inside scoop that would change our lives.

It was then that I realized that he was full of baloney, and all his winking was a bunch of baloney, too. And I was only twelve years old.

Yeah, great philosophy! Great for widows and orphans.

This guy thought that being a predator was a lifestyle kids should emulate.

Ever since, I haven’t had much time for winkers.

I figure there’s two reasons people wink a lot. And I don’t care for either.

The first? A winker has decided that winking is a way to gain instant intimacy with other people. They think it’s a way of expressing friendliness, bonhomie, and comradeship. So they flash their winks all over the place like some friendliness tool. It seems disconcertingly manipulative to me.

And worse, this winking becomes a habit, eventually gets out of control, and it’s like the person ends up with a facial tic. Consequently, they’re winking all the time, which really seems phony.

John McCain, unfortunately, has become a compulsive winker.

The second reason people wink a lot? The winker is letting you in on an inside joke. Uh huh, there’s a fool thereabouts, sometimes in their immediate presence, so let’s have a laugh at his or her expense.

That type of wink is condescending. It’s like you’re on the inside of the people-in-the-know group and the fool’s on the outside. It’s not only condescending, like referring to someone else as “That one,” it’s also demeaning and, ultimately, rude.

Sarah Palin, again unfortunately, engages in this type of winking.

Both types turn me off.

I prefer those who don’t engage in such petty, gimcrack tricks. Just like I prefer people who are repelled by such trickle-down philosophies as, “The world is for the takers.”

We’re suffering enough, and may suffer much more, from such self-centered Wall Street-type predators.

I bet they do a lot of winking, too.

The Bark Knight

Latest Monologues

‘Things Are Really Getting Nasty’

Aired Thursday night on CBS: Beautiful day in New York City today, where it was 73 and sunny. John McCain, 73 and cranky.

I like John McCain. He looks like a guy would you see wandering around Walgreens looking for the dye gel.

John McCain looks like the guy at Home Depot who mixes paint.

Things are really getting nasty in the campaign. Listen to this. Today, John McCain tried to link Barack Obama to the Chicago Cubs. Read more …

COLUMN: Time to Get Ready to Paddle

By Tobin Barnes
Something flushed the toilet, and now we’re all white-water rafting down the big dark tube.

Yeah, that’s what it feels like.

Especially for those who closely follow the news. It’s like watching an episodic horror show with daily cliffhangers. And you and me are the victims trying to evade some unseen slasher.

But what was that “something” that flipped the toilet handle in the first place? What sent us into this swirling maelstrom?

Maybe only a select few in the upper reaches of the Fed and Treasury know. After all, they’re the ones privy to all the arcane economic data. But maybe they don’t either.

That could be the really scary thing about this freak show. Could be they’re only guessing and hoping.

And then there’s Congress. They only seem to know what the Fed and Treasury tell them. They’re guessing and hoping big time. Their political lives depend upon making the right votes. But who among us gives a horse’s patoot about their careers. Silly us, we’d like to think they’re doing the right thing, not the electable thing.

In those bailout (rescue?) negotiations of the last couple weeks, many members of Congress have swayed to and fro with the fickle breeze of their constituencies. Uh huh, the irregular pulse of the masses.

Now that’s some really solid criteria to hang your hat on. What does the average constituent know about rewiring high-level economic policy, especially when he knows little or nothing of the details?

Zippo, my friend.

As the late, great George Carlin said, “Think of how stupid the average person is, and realize half of them are stupider than that.”

Sure it gripes everybody’s heinie thinking about those $75-million bonuses on Wall Street and its to-heck-with-everybody-else-as-long-as-I-get-my-bundle attitude. Who wants to give them hundreds of billions of dollars?

But how does that well-founded outrage keep us out of another Great Depression?

I’ve heard some say that what we need is a massive financial crisis like the one the country barely survived in the 1930’s. Clean out the sludge.

No thanks.

That was a twelve-year global nightmare of poverty and misery that was a direct cause of World War II in which tens of millions lost their lives.

No thanks, again.

But don’t get me wrong. Though the average guy in the street is no economic engineer trained in financial fine tuning, all us average Joe’s did see this mess coming, didn’t we?

We knew that the soaring home prices were ridiculous, especially amidst stagnant wages. We knew that those easy credit terms for McMansions were chickens just itching to come home to roost. We knew that credit card debt of eight to nine thousand per household was just plain stupid. We knew that spending like drunken oil sheiks would have to come to a screeching halt sooner or later.

Now didn’t we?

Yeah, it’s not rocket science. Even the average guy who’s George Carlin stupid could see it coming.

But, on the other hand, it just might take rocket science to sort it all out.

Unfortunately, that’s not an encouraging thought.

Supposedly, Wall Street, Congress, the Fed, the Treasury and the think tanks are filled with economic rocket scientists. This stuff is right in their wheelhouse. And they have further expert staffs numbering in the thousands ready to do their bidding.
So where were they the last decade or so? Were they incompetent or plain-old criminal?

Or were they just asleep at the switch?

Are they awake now? Someone check.

Hello.

Is anybody there?

Latest Monologues

‘McCain Has a Backup Plan’
David Letterman

Aired Thursday night on CBS: I hate to bring up a sad, sore topic but how about the economy? I mean, does it stink? The economy is so bad that today, Dick Cheney was waterboarding his stockbroker.

The Senate passed the bailout bill after loading it with pork. It just doesn’t seem right to me to pass a bill like that on Rosh Hashanah.

Have you been watching Sarah Palin’s interviews with Katie Couric? Last night, Palin told Couric that she can’t name a Supreme Court ruling that she disagrees with. The best she could come up with was the time Judge Judy ruled against the landlord.

But Sarah Palin did say she objected to several Paula Abdul rulings on “American Idol.”

But Sarah Palin did say there is one decision that she disagrees with. And that was the decision to do the interview with Katie Couric. Read more …

Jon Stewart: Kill Bill

Late Night Monologues

Aired Monday night on NBC: Today, the House of Representatives voted against the Wall Street bailout plan, a plan which House Minority Leader John Boehner called a “crap sandwich.” Congress is already working on a new plan, which they call a “crap sandwich with cheese.”

Now, today, when the stock market closed, it was down 777 points, which is the biggest point drop in American history. As a result, President Bush was able to cross off the 10th and final item on his Administration’s bucket list.

The presidential debate was held Friday. Many observers are split on who won. Yeah. Some say Barack Obama won by showing he could hold his own, while others say that John McCain won by showing he could hold his bladder.

Critics are still analyzing Sarah Palin’s interview with Katie Couric last week. And they’re saying she was halting, repetitive, and stumped on basic questions. Yeah. In other words, Palin appeared very presidential.

Hugh Hefner has asked Sarah Palin to pose nude for Playboy magazine. Palin said she’d agree to pose for Playboy as long as there’s no interview.

COLUMN: A Comparison with 'Like' or 'As'

By Tobin Barnes
“The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.”

That was a fractured simile by a guy named Malcolm Fleschner from Arlington, Virginia. He entered it in something called the Style Invitational, sponsored by the Washington Post. It’s meant to be a gag contest on bad metaphor and analogy writing.

Being an English teacher, I’ve seen my share of bad metaphors and analogies. Heck, I’ve written my share of bad metaphors and analogies. However, as seen in the above entry, they can be more entertaining than good ones.

Lots.

But maybe this exhibition is going to be only for my appreciation. Who knows? I hope not. Here’s some of my favorites from the Style Invitational. The writers names (I hope they want the credit) are in parentheses. I assume that the towns are in the Washington, DC area. I only wish I could write as badly as they can.

“Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.” (Jerry Pannullo, Kensington)

“Even in his last years, grandpappy had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.” (Sandra Hull, Arlington)

“The door had been forced, as forced as the dialogue during the interview portion of ‘Jeopardy!’” (Jean Sorensen, Herndon)

This next one was a third-runner-up in 1999: “Her artistic sense was exquisitely refined, like someone who can tell butter from I Can't Believe It's Not Butter.” (Barbara Collier, Garrett Park)

This was the second-runner-up that year: “She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.” (Susan Reese, Arlington)

Can you appreciate the subtle quality difference that earns the second one the higher rating?

Neither can I.

I could have gone with this one as a winner: “He felt like he was being hunted down like a dog, in a place that hunts dogs, I suppose.” (Russ Beland, Springfield)

Or maybe this one: “He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.” (Susan Reese, Arlington)

And this one brings up images as well: “Her pants fit her like a glove, well, maybe more like a mitten, actually.” (Chuck Smith, Woodbridge)

Some of them are more verbose, like this second-runner-up from 1995: “I felt a nameless dread. Well, there probably is a long German name for it, like Geschpooklichkeit or something, but I don’s speak German. Anyway, it’s a dread that nobody knows the name for, like those little square plastic gizmos that close your bread bags. I don’t know the name for those either.” (Jack Bross, Chevy Chase)

And the first-runner-up that year: “She was as unhappy as when someone puts your cake out in the rain, and all the sweet green icing flows down and then you lose the recipe, and on top of that you can't sing worth a damn.” (Joseph Romm, Washington)

Or: “He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.” (Joseph Romm, Washington)

But some of the best word pictures come quickly: “The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.” (Gary F. Hevel, Silver Spring)

Secretary Paulson Becomes Nigerian Spammer

From a witty email that's going around in this time of financial crisis:

MY DEAR AMERICAN FRIEND:

I AM NEEDING TO ASK YOU TO SUPPORT AN URGENT SECRET BUSINESS RELATIONSHIP WITH A TRANSFER OF FUNDS OF GREAT MAGNITUDE.

I AM MINISTRY OF THE TREASURY OF THE REPUBLIC OF AMERICA. MY COUNTRY HAS HAD CRISIS THAT HAS CAUSED NEED FOR LARGE TRANSFER OF FUNDS OF 700 BILLION OF YOUR DOLLARS (US). IF YOU WOULD ASSIST ME IN THIS TRANSFER IT WOULD BE MOST PROFITABLE TO YOU.

I AM WORKING WITH HIGHLY REPUTABLE MR. PHIL GRAM, LOBBYIST FOR UBS, WHO WILL BE MY REPLACEMENT AS MINISTRY OF THE TREASURY IN JANUARY IF MY POLITICAL PARTY WINS UPCOMING ELECTION, WHICH WE CERTAINLY WILL BECAUSE WE ARE IN CONTROLING OF THE HIGHEST SUPREME COURT. YOU MAY REMEMBER HIM AS A SENATOR AS LEADER OF THE AMERICAN BANKING DEREGULATION MOVEMENT IN THE 1990S.

THIS TRANSACTIN IS 100% SAFE. YOU MUST TRUST ME COMPLETELY AND NOT ASK QUESTIONS ABOUT THE TRANSACTION. YOU HAVE MY WORD NO ONE WILL DO ANYTHING WRONG WITH THE MONEY.

THIS IS A MATTER OF GREAT URGENCY. WE NEED YOUR BLANK CHECK. WE NEED THE FUNDS AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE. WE CANNOT DIRECTLY TRANSFER THESE FUNDS IN THE NAMES OF OUR CLOSE FRIENDS BECAUSE WE ARE CONSTANTLY UNDER SURVEILLANCE. MY FAMILY LAWYER ADVISED ME THAT I SHOULD LOOK FOR A RELIABLE AND TRUSTWORTH PERSONAGE WHO WILL ACT AS A NEXT OF KIN SO THE FUNDS CAN BE TRANSFERRED. YOU ARE THAT PERSONAGE.

PLEASE REPLY WITH ALL OF YOUR BANK ACCOUNT, IRA AND COLLEGE FUND ACCOUNT NUMBERS AND THOSE OF YOUR CHILDREN, GRANDCHILDREN AND THOSE YET UNBORN TO WALLSTREETBAILOUT@TREASURY.GOV SO THAT WE MAY TRANSFER YOUR COMMISSION FOR THIS TRANSACTION. AFTER I RECEIVE THIS INFORMATION I WILL RESPOND WITH DETAILED INFORMATION ABOUT SAFEGUARDS WE PROMISE WILL BE USED TO PROTECT THE FUNDS AND PRODUCE A LONG-TERM RETURN ON INVESTMENT FOR YOU AND THOSE YOU LOVE.

YOURS FAITHFULLY
MINISTER OF TREASURY H. PAULSON

Daily Show: McCain Returns to Washington

Let's Get This Straight

(Sent by Chuck Standen)

I'm a little confused. Let me see if I have this straight.....

* If you grow up in Hawaii, raised by your grandparents, you're "exotic, different."
* Grow up in Alaska eating moose burgers, a quintessential American story.
* If your name is Barack you're a radical, unpatriotic Muslim.
* Name your kids Willow, Trig and Track, you're a maverick.
* Graduate from Harvard law School and you are unstable.
* Attend 5 different small colleges before graduating, you're well grounded.
* If you spend 3 years as a brilliant community organizer, become the first black President of the Harvard Law Review, create a voter registration drive that registers 150,000 new voters, spend 12 years as a Constitutional Law professor, spend 8 years as a State Senator representing a district with over 750,000 people, become chairman of the state Senate's Health and Human Services committee, spend 4 years in the United States Senate representing a state of 13 million people while sponsoring 131 bills and serving on the Foreign Affairs, Environment and Public Works and Veteran's Affairs committees, you don't have any real leadership experience.
* If your total resume is: local weather girl, 4 years on the city council and 6 years as the mayor of a town with less than 7,000 people, 20 months as the governor of a state with only 650,000 people, then you're qualified to become the country's second highest ranking executive.
* If you have been married to the same woman for 19 years while raising 2 beautiful daughters, all within Protestant churches, you're not a real Christian.
* If you cheated on your first wife with a rich heiress, and left your disfigured wife and married the heiress the next month, you're a Christian.
*If you teach responsible, age appropriate sex education, including the proper use of birth control, you are eroding the fiber of society.
* If , while governor, you staunchly advocate abstinence only, with no other option in sex education in your state's school system while your unwed teen daughter ends up pregnant , you're very responsible.
* If your wife is a Harvard graduate lawyer who gave up a position in a prestigious law firm to work for the betterment of her inner city community, then gave that up to raise a family, your family's values don't represent America's.
* If you're husband is nicknamed "First Dude", with at least one DWI conviction and no college education, who didn't register to vote until age 25 and once was a member of a group that advocated the secession of Alaska from the USA, your family is extremely admirable.

OK, much clearer now.

COLUMN: Let's stop settling for less

By Tobin Barnes
“When I was a boy, I was told anyone could become President; I’m beginning to believe it.” That’s from Clarence Darrow, famous courtroom lawyer of the first half of the 20th Century.

The first half of the quote is comforting, bringing to mind each citizen’s theoretical equal standing before the law and, supposedly, the electorate. It’s a status we idealistically cherish.

The second half of the quote—the wit of the whole thing—is alarming. Indeed, it’s been heartily proven that, in fact, anyone COULD become President…and has.

It’s scary.

We’ve had some real lemons.

And how does that happen? Sometimes it’s a matter of money and influence. Oftentimes, it’s a matter of not only that but also hand-picked mediocrity.

Why hand-picked? Mediocrity doesn’t rock the boat. And established powers prefer stability. “Things are great, as far as we’re concerned. Let’s keep them that way.” Stick with what we know.

But what’s in it for the American people? Why opt for mediocrity? When did excellence become a dirty word?

Well, many prefer “what we know”—even those who reap no benefits garnered by those in the power establishment with all the money and influence.

For some reason, many Americans are attracted to the down-home and simple-minded. Complexity makes them nervous. Some vote for the candidate they see themselves in. A candidate they’d enjoy sharing a beer with down at the local bar. (I just saw a poll today based on whom you’d most like to watch a football game with.)

They think these types of candidates understand them and share their values. They think that politicians who seem like them would be better decision-makers. They’d be decisive, gosh darn it, not wimpy hand-wringers. These politicians could pull the trigger on any issue without blinking, no matter how deadly, based simply on common values we supposedly all hold dear.

Don’t need no fancy education, study, or book learning, for crying out loud.

Sounds simple, doesn’t it?

Just about anybody could do it—anybody down at that same local bar. Just rely on the lowest common denominator. Better yet, get one of those magic 8-balls and let that make your decisions.

I’ve had enough of the simple solutions. Things are way too complex for just “anyone” to handle. We don’t need average qualifications packaged into anti-intellectual smugness. Just as we treasure those who forge themselves into elite soldiers, we need elite leaders.

We need the best and the brightest we can find.

Our greatest Presidents—Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, the two Roosevelts, Truman—were not just “anyone” who fit some political bill. They were exceptional people who educated and prepared themselves to take on the onerous burdens of their times.

They didn’t blend in with fellow citizens, they stood out head and shoulders above them. Unlike the masses, they could think beyond the moment and the current crisis. They could shape the times, not let the times and simple prejudices shape them.

Oh sure, they could display a certain folksy air of conviviality when necessary. Many had the common touch. Abraham Lincoln was a master at that. Franklin Roosevelt was a charmer. Harry Truman spoke the common man’s lingo.

But few Americans ever fooled themselves into thinking these people were common or average or anyone down at the bar.

These leaders’ wells ran deep. There was nothing ordinary about their intellects. And though some did not have much formal education, they took the time and considerable effort not taken by the average man to become self-educated in all of the most complex issues of their day. They were all voracious readers and learners. They prided themselves in study. They didn’t deride it and make fun of it.

Let’s not settle for mediocrity anymore.

Flow Chart of Life

Field Dressing Another Moose

Bread Is Bad

Found here:

1. More than 98 percent of convicted felons are bread users.
2. Fully HALF of all children who grow up in bread-consuming households score below average on standardized tests.
3. In the 18th century, when virtually all bread was baked in the home, the average life expectancy was less than 50 years; infant mortality rates were unacceptably high; many women died in childbirth; and diseases such as typhoid, yellow fever, and influenza ravaged whole nations.
4. More than 90 percent of violent crimes are committed within 24 hours of eating bread.
5. Bread is made from a substance called “dough.” It has been proven that as little as one pound of dough can be used to suffocate a mouse. The average North American eats more bread than that in one month!
6. Primitive tribal societies that have no bread exhibit a low incidence of cancer, Alzheimer’s, Parkinson’s disease, and osteoporosis.
7. Bread has been proven to be addictive. Subjects deprived of bread and given only water to eat begged for bread after as little as two days.
8. Bread is often a “gateway” food item, leading the user to “harder” items such as butter, jelly, peanut butter, and even cold cuts. Read more …

COLUMN: And Have a Nice Day

By Tobin Barnes
My wife was shopping at one of the big-box retailers recently. She was just trying to breeze in and breeze out, picking up five or six items. She was wearing a knee brace because of an injury, so walking and standing were difficult for her.

She’d gone through checkout, paid for her stuff, and was heading out the door when an alarm sounded.

Now that’s embarrassing right there.

So she stops in the entranceway while the store “greeter” compulsively goes through her bag over and over again checking the items against the receipt. The greeter has morphed from a glad-hander into airport security agent.

This all takes time. The guy’s elderly. Meanwhile people are passing by, thinking who knows what.

But the greeter just can’t figure it out. Everything in the bag is accounted for on the receipt. Nevertheless, he won’t give up.

My wife’s knee is hurting. She tells him, “If this is going to take longer, I’m going to go sit down.” She goes to take a seat in the nearby shop. Tells him to come get her when he’s done.

Finally, he figures it out. One item evidently didn’t scan properly even though it showed up on the receipt and was paid for. It’s like who knows with those gizmos?

Evidently, the scanner normally turns off the alarm function or something. This time it didn’t.

Anyway, after what seems like twenty minutes, the greeter hands over the items, and my wife says, “This is embarrassing!” to the guy.

His response?

“Have a nice day.” That’s it.

In other words, at these prices, you’re going to have to lump it. And she WILL lump it. She just hopes this article won’t get her banned from the store.

And no doubt the prices are great. I once read that when a big box, like Best Buy, Walmart or Home Depot, comes into your town, it’s like getting a pay raise.

I’ve also read that the big boxes are major targets for rip-offs by coordinated crime rings. Mark Doyle, president of a security consulting firm, says that “brazen thieves will wheel out dollies loaded with appliances, cases of liquor or, in one recent instance, an entire sectional sofa.”

Granted, but come on. How about all the cameras? How about all the associates behind one-way mirrors and stuff?

Not long after my wife’s incident, I ran across an article posted on Smartmoney.com. It’s where I got the above quote. It seems other big box customers are also upset with the “cough up the receipt” and “let’s see if the scanner made a mistake” policies.

The article started with the story of a middle-aged CPA living in small-town America who was convicted of misdemeanor assault after a multi-day trial that had his town abuzz.

So what did mild-mannered Casper Milquetoast do? He shoved a 75-year-old greeter who wouldn’t let him leave without examining his receipt.

“He didn’t have the right to make me do that,” he told the local paper.

This was the talk of the town because many people have shared his experience of bopping into a store for a thing or two and feeling like Homeland Security was on their case. Evidently, people aren’t enjoying being suspects until proven otherwise.

“You shouldn’t be required to sacrifice your dignity to get a better deal,” says a Sanford, Maine, web designer. After seeing a fellow customer going through the doorway mill, he put up a website to generate protest against receipt checks. The site has had 130,000 hits.

John DeArmond, “a nuclear engineer turned trucker turned retired Tennessee mountain man,” takes a more direct approach. He “insists that the checker compare every single item in his grocery cart against the receipt. (He's got a lot of free time.) Once, as a sort of grand finale, he marched his cart back to the service counter and returned the entire load.”

Another guy, Michael Righi from Brooklyn, Ohio, has had 200 supporters contribute to his defense fund after he was arrested for causing a stir when he refused to produce his receipt at the door a of big box store.

Next thing you know, receipt rebels will be building bonfires in the parking lot.

COLUMN: The Ivy-Covered Walls of Learning

By Tobin Barnes
Occasionally, justice is served.

I know, because lately I’ve been on the receiving end.

Let me explain my bout of comeuppance duly meted out.

This summer, my wife was plagued with a nasty bit of poison ivy. Actually, I’m sure she’d beg to differ as to the “bit” part because it tended to drive her nuts.

She went through tubes of cortisone cream, rolls of guaze, and many pads of sterile bandages trying to bring the affliction to an end. But seemingly, tamping down one outbreak only led to another. It went on for many weeks.

During this tribulation, my simple solution, “Just don’t scratch it,” was never much appreciated.

But I couldn’t figure out what all the fuss was about. The closest I’d ever come to widespread skin irritation was when I used to caddy as a kid.

When walking the boundaries of the course or down by the creek, we often came in contact with something we called “itchweed.” We never knew what this stuff really was—not much into botanical nomenclature at that age.

Mostly, it would get on our legs when we weren’t watching out for the stuff, but sometimes it’d also attack our hands and arms when we’d reach down to pick up a ball out of the deep rough.

But we found that if we didn’t scratch the initial itch, it would soon go away. Lesson learned—anyway, as far as itchweed was concerned.

So, lesson applied to my wife’s case: “Gees, just don’t scratch it.”

It was like, what’s wrong with her? If she’d just leave it alone, it’d go away.
But as I indicated before, this advice quickly threatened to strain our relationship.

Eventually, her outbreak subsided.

Then, Pow!

I get the mother of all poison ivy outbreaks. It’s a case to make hers—in my eyes, anyway—seem a mere dalliance.

It started in a massive swath across my neck and collar bone area. (I’m thinking my dog, Matty, got into the stuff, and after I petted her, I must have rubbed my neck—the inflamed part was in the shape of fingers on a hand.)

After that, it jumped to about fifteen other smaller outbreaks across my upper body. Ah Chihuahua!

I may have spread it by toweling off after showers. Now I just drip dry like a piece of laundry, and that, along with massive doses of cortisone cream and spray seems to be helping somewhat.

I don’t intend to demean other people’s truly grave afflictions and suffering, but this was more hell than I was bargaining for after giving one loved one some good advice and another a few pats on the head.

And though I’ve been referring to this as a poison ivy attack—which is probably the generic cause most people’s minds leap to—maybe it’s poison oak or sumac, instead. Or maybe bitter vetch or angry anise or even p.o.-ed pansy. I just don’t know.

What I do know is that I’ll never belittle another’s suffering again. And I just might not pet my dog again until after we have a heavy freeze and all the plants die for the season.

And there’s a foot of snow on the ground.

And I’m wearing gloves.

Did You Get That?

Boyfriend Upgrade 5.0

Dear Tech Support:

Last year I upgraded from Boyfriend 5.0 to Husband 1.0 and noticed a slowdown in the performance of the flower and jewelry applications that had operated flawlessly under the Boyfriend 5.0 system. In addition, Husband 1.0 uninstalled many other valuable programs such as Romance 9.9 but installed undesirable programs such as NFL 7.4, NBA 3.2 and NHL 4.1. Conversation 8.0 also no longer runs and Housecleaning 2.6 simply crashes the system. I’ve tried running Nagging 5.3 to fix these problems but to no avail. What can I do?

Signed,
Desperate

Dear Desperate:

First, keep in mind that Boyfriend 5.0 was an entertainment package while Husband 1.0 is an operating system. Try entering the command C:/ I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME and installing Tears 6.2. Husband 1.0 should then automatically run the applications Guilt 3.3 and Flowers 7.5. But remember, overuse can cause Husband 1.0 to default to such background applications as Grumpy Silence 2.5, Happy Hour 7.0 or Beer 6.1. Please remember Beer 6.1 is a very bad program that will create Snoring Loudly WAV files. DO NOT install Mother-in-law 1.0 or another Boyfriend program. These are not supported applications and will crash Husband 1.0 to default to the program Girlfriend 9.2, which runs in the background and has been known to introduce potentially serious viruses into the operating system. In summary, Husband 1.0 is a great program but it does have a limited memory and can’t learn new applications quickly. You might consider buying additional software to enhance his system performance.

Good Luck,
Tech Support

from Computer humor found here.

Go Big Red

Roy Wilson says it took awhile after their move to a new house, but he's finally got his lawn put in.

Time to Update

Palin Pick

Office Memo

(Sent by Roy Wilson)
EFFECTIVE AUGUST 1, 2008

NEW OFFICE POLICY

Dress Code:

1) You are advised to come to work dressed according to your salary.

2) If we see you wearing Prada shoes and carrying a Gucci bag, we will assume you are doing well financially and therefore do not need a raise.

3) If you dress poorly, you need to learn to manage your money better, so that you may buy nicer clothes, and therefore you do not need a raise.

4) If you dress just right, you are right where you need to be and therefore you do not need a raise.

Sick Days:
We will no longer accept a doctor's statement as proof of sickness. If you are able to go to the doctor, you are able to come to work.

Personal Days:
Each employee will receive 104 personal days a year. They are called Saturdays & Sundays.

Bereavement Leave:
This is no excuse for missing work. There is nothing you can do for dead friends, relatives or co-workers. Every effort should be made to have non-employees attend the funeral arrangements in your place. In rare cases where employee involvement is necessary, the funeral should be scheduled in the late afternoon. We will be glad to allow you to work through your lunch hour and subsequently leave one hour early.

Bathroom Breaks:
Entirely too much time is being spent in the toilet. There is now a strict three-minute time limit in the stalls. At the end of three minutes, an alarm will sound, the toilet paper roll will retract, the stall door will open, and a picture will be taken. After your second offense, your picture will be posted on the company bulletin board under the 'Chronic Offenders' category. Anyone caught smiling in the picture will be sectioned under the company's mental health policy.

Lunch Break:

* Skinny people get 30 minutes for lunch, as they need to eat more, so that they can look healthy.

* Normal size people get 15 minutes for lunch to get a balanced meal to maintain their average figure.

* Chubby people get 5 minutes for lunch, because that's all the time needed to drink a Slim-Fast.


Thank you for your loyalty to our company. We are here to provide a positive employment experience. Therefore, all questions, comments, concerns, complaints, frustrations, irritations, aggravations, insinuations, allegations, accusations, contemplations, consternation and input should be directed elsewhere.

The Management