tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-114449192024-03-15T21:10:08.583-04:00JD TimesA Blog Of Humor and Inspiration...Jim D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/02937524015257942529noreply@blogger.comBlogger268125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11444919.post-51529321085103913152014-09-02T11:56:00.000-04:002014-09-02T11:56:15.386-04:00Take THAT Vladimir Putin!<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves/>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/>
<w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/>
<w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/>
<w:Word11KerningPairs/>
<w:CachedColBalance/>
</w:Compatibility>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><br />
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="267">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin-top:0in;
mso-para-margin-right:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt;
mso-para-margin-left:0in;
line-height:115%;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:11.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;}
</style>
<![endif]--><br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Vladimir Putin has announced that
Russia will no longer be importing Western fruits, vegetables, meat, fish, or milk products. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Okay, Vlad the Naysayer, fair enough. It’s clearly time for The
West to retaliate and boycott some of those Russian foods we love so much.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
First off, no more Vodka. That’s
not so hard, really, since the best Vodka comes from France. That’s right, Grey
Goose is French. So we are okay, there, at least until the next time The
French <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Freedom_fries" target="_blank">piss us off!</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Second, caviar is out! Don’t
worry, though, fish egg lovers. It turns out that there are several excellent
American caviars available. Wal-Mart and Costco carry a full supply, and you
can order enough to last ten years or more, and for a very reasonable price.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Third, cold soup. The Russians
have so many varieties it is hard to pick just one, but, really, why bother to
choose. Just eliminate them all because, well, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">COLD SOUP!!</i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">!</i> Need I say
more?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Fourth, pirogue. It’s some kind
of mystery meat wrapped in a pastry. In other word, A BURRITO! Well, we don’t
need to get our meat wrapped up by Vladimir Putin. We can get good old All
American Mexican Food and be just as happy. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Finally, McDonald's. McDonald's has
several hundred restaurants in Russia so to be truly patriotic Americans should
vow to stop eating Big Macs. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Okay, let’s not go overboard.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
Jim D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/02937524015257942529noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11444919.post-36935613780440151782014-08-29T09:36:00.000-04:002014-08-29T09:36:45.376-04:00Waiting for iPhone<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:RelyOnVML/>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><br />
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves/>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/>
<w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/>
<w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/>
<w:Word11KerningPairs/>
<w:CachedColBalance/>
</w:Compatibility>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="267">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin-top:0in;
mso-para-margin-right:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt;
mso-para-margin-left:0in;
line-height:115%;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:11.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;}
</style>
<![endif]-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
The new iPhone is coming. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Next month. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Just two weeks away. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anybody can wait two weeks, right?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s only 14 days.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s just a fortnight.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>336 hours.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not long at all.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
20,160 minutes. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That doesn’t seem too long to wait for the MOST
REVOLUTIONARY DEVICE THAT WILL EVER BE CREATED ON THE PLANET EARTH!!!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Nope, not long at all.</div>
Jim D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/02937524015257942529noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11444919.post-64508835071865478182014-08-25T10:24:00.000-04:002014-08-25T10:24:35.151-04:00The Last Unemployed Man In America<span style="font-size: x-large;">L</span>ionel Krowder fired up his ancient notebook computer and waited patiently while the obsolete operating system loaded and laboriously began executing its start-up routine. Lionel took preternatural comfort in the consistent way it carried out its instructions each time he applied power. He had even grown fond of the IGNORE button in the error message window that always popped up one minute and twenty-nine seconds into the process. “Hello, Mr. Ignore.” he would sometimes mutter, clicking on it gently.<br />
<br />
He began scanning the email subject lines which descended down the screen like a ladder to nowhere. They all contained either the words “regret”, “sorry”, or “unfortunately”. He sighed and looked out the filmy window of his third floor walk-up apartment.<br />
<br />
No job today, he thought.<br />
<br />
Again.<br />
<br />
He was startled out of this trip down self pity lane by an electronic alert coming from his mobile phone. The sound was not the usual text message beep-beep-beep that he heard once or twice a day, but rather the chimes which indicated an actual telephone call. The chimes were the default sound programmed into the device at the factory and he had never felt it worth the trouble to choose something more personal.<br />
<br />
He touched the answer icon on the smudged screen, brought the phone to his ear, and cautiously said “Hello?”<br />
<br />
“Mister Lionel Krowder?” The voice was formal with little inflection. Very businesslike, thought Lionel. That can't be good.<br />
<br />
“Yes, this is Lionel <i>Charles </i>Krowder,” said Lionel, hoping that perhaps the formal voice had called the wrong Lionel Krowder. Perhaps they wanted Lionel <i>Michael </i>Krowder or Lionel <i>Phillip </i>Krowder or Lionel...<br />
<br />
“Hello, Mister Krowder.” said the voice, sounding very much like Lionel Charles Krowder was exactly the Lionel Krowder to whom he wished to speak. “This is the Bureau of Labor Statistics. How are you today?”<br />
<br />
“I'm fine, I guess. How can I help you?”<br />
<br />
“It has come to our attention that you are still unemployed even after several years of unprecedented economic growth. Is that true?”<br />
<br />
“Actually, I have several opportunities in the pipeline,” he lied, trying to preserve some semblance of self respect. <br />
<br />
“According to our records your most recent set of applications have all been rejected, Mr. Krowder,” said the voice authoritatively.<br />
<br />
“Excuse me?”<br />
<br />
“'The position is no longer available', 'We have no openings at this time', 'Your talents do not fit the profile'. Shall I go on?”<br />
<br />
“How did you...I haven't even...”<br />
<br />
“You haven't even read these emails, have you Mr. Krowder?”<br />
<br />
Lionel did his best not to sound defensive. “I usually just read the subject line. To save time.” As if he had time to save, he thought.<br />
<br />
He tried to sit up straight, but couldn't quite maintain the stiff spine and thrown back shoulders of an optimist. Why the hell bother? he thought. It's not like anyone can see me. Then his head popped up and he looked around his room suspiciously. Or can they?<br />
<br />
“Can I help you with something?” Lionel was getting annoyed by this interloper.<br />
<br />
“Yes you can. We are prepared to release the latest employment statistics, and it would appear that you are the only person left who is still unemployed.”<br />
<br />
“Don't be ridiculous. There must be lots of other people who are unemployed.”<br />
<br />
“No one else is unemployed, Mr. Krowder.”<br />
<br />
“What about felons? Surely felons are having a hard time finding a job.”<br />
<br />
“A lot of people like to hire felons. Ever since Orange Is The New Black.”<br />
<br />
“Well, I can't believe I'm the only unemployed person left. People in my age group, for example. I'm in my late forties/early fifties”.<br />
<br />
"You are fifty-eight years old, Mr. Krowder."<br />
<br />
"Right. Well, I bet fifty-eight-year-olds have a heck of a time finding a job." <br />
<br />
"There is a one hundred and one year old man working in a hardware store in Poughkeepsie, New York. There is a ninety-three year old woman plowing fields on a farm near Lincoln, Nebraska. There is a one-hundred-six year old brain surgeon performing operations in Chicago, Illinois. There is a eighty-nine year old small forward playing for the Minnesota Timberwolves..."<br />
<br />
"I still can't believe that everybody has a job but me."<br />
<br />
“Well, we don't include those who are”, he lowered his voice in disgust, “no longer looking for work.”<br />
<br />
“But I <i>am </i>looking for work. “<br />
<br />
“Yes, we know, Mr. Krowder. That's the problem.”<br />
<br />
“Problem?”<br />
<br />
“We would very much like to report the unemployment rate as zero percent, but as long as you are statistically included in the 'seeker' category, that can't happen.”<br />
<br />
“What do you mean?”<br />
<br />
“While you are still looking for a job the unemployment rate is 0.0000000006%.”<br />
<br />
“That's such a small number. It's <i>almost </i>zero.”<br />
<br />
“Mr. Krowder, we are the Bureau of Labor Statistics. '<i>Almost</i>' is not a statistic. Perhaps I didn't make myself clear. We very much want the unemployment rate to be <i>exactly </i>zero.”<br />
<br />
There was a pause that extended from brief to awkward. Finally Lionel said, “So you want me to stop looking for a job?”<br />
<br />
“That would be ideal, Mr. Krowder. As I mentioned, those who are - ,” again his voice became a repulsed whisper, “no longer looking for work - are not included in the statistics. I'm glad you concur...”<br />
<br />
“Wait! Hold on. Maybe I still want to be looking for a job.”<br />
<br />
“Looking for a job that is 'No longer available' Mr. Krowder?”<br />
<br />
“Obviously not...”<br />
<br />
“'No openings at this time'?”<br />
<br />
“It's just a matter of...”<br />
<br />
“'Your talents do not fit the profile'?”<br />
<br />
“I admit it's not going to be...”<br />
<br />
"Don't you think it's time to face the fact that there is no job for you? None. Not any." <br />
<br />
“Well, I'm not a quitter, damn it. I'm going to keep looking for a job until I find a job.” <br />
<br />
“That would be unwise, Mr. Krowder. Our calculations show the chances of you actually finding a job is only 0.0000000006%”. <br />
<br />
"The same as the unemployment rate?” <br />
<br />
"What?"<br />
<br />
"You just said the chances of me finding a job are the same as the unemployment rate. Interesting coincidence, don't you think?"<br />
<br />
"Let me just check those numbers again.” There was a pause and I could hear heavy breathing and the clicking of a keyboard in the background. <br />
<br />
"Well, what do you know? It appears there's been an anomaly in our heuristics.” <br />
<br />
"What does that mean?" <br />
<br />
"No matter what parameters I enter, the result is always 0.0000000006%. How about that?” He sounded bemused. <br />
<br />
"For crying out loud, you almost had me dropping out of the labor force because your horisits..."<br />
<br />
"Heuristics," he corrected.<br />
<br />
"Whatever they are, they were screwed up! This is unforgivable.” <br />
<br />
I heard a shuffling of papers and after a moment he said, "The Bureau of Labor Statistics wishes to convey its sincerest regret if the items mentioned in this outreach interface caused you distress, Mr. Krowder, and requests that you ignore the information that was disseminated.” <br />
<br />
"Is that supposed to be an apology?"<br />
<br />
"Not quite. Merely a pro-forma expression of regret."<br />
<br />
"That's it? ‘A pro-forma expression of regret’?” A sly thought wended its way into Lionel's mind. “It seems to me," he said cunningly, "that my time and trouble is worth something."<br />
<br />
"You mean some sort of compensation?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah, right. It seems to me that some sort of compensation is in order."<br />
<br />
"Well, I suppose that might be a possibility."<br />
<br />
"Good," Lionel pounced eagerly. <br />
<br />
"Yes, indeed. That might definitely be a possibility. In fact, the possibility of your receiving compensation from the Bureau of Labor Statistics is exactly..." There was a pause as the sound of a keyboard again floated across the ether. <br />
<br />
"0.0000000006%.” <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Jim D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/02937524015257942529noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11444919.post-42704737156612454992014-08-15T09:56:00.000-04:002014-08-15T14:07:45.124-04:00Political Poll<br />
I was sitting in my living room the other afternoon enjoying a "Murder She Wrote" marathon when the phone rang. I picked it up and a very pleasant young woman asked if I would share my opinions on some of the more weighty issues of the day. I told her I'd be happy to, and began to set her straight on exactly what is wrong with the world and what should be done to correct it.<br />
<br />
"No, no, no. You have to answer a questionnaire," she said desperately. "I have the questions right here."<br />
<br />
"Oh. Okay. Go ahead," I said, muting a rather involved explanation of why another innocent life had been snuffed out in the rustic hamlet of Cabot Cove.<br />
<br />
"Thank you." Her voice became more officious. "Would you describe yourself as being informed on the candidates and issues?"<br />
<br />
"Well, I'm as informed as any voter, I suppose."<br />
<br />
"So you are a low-information voter," she said confidently.<br />
<br />
"Wait a minute. I'm not low-information."<br />
<br />
"Where <i>do </i>you get your information?"<br />
<br />
"I look at the Internet a lot."<br />
<br />
"So you're a sub-information voter."<br />
<br />
"Look, I have as much information as any citizen," I said resentfully. "I'm focused like a laser on the issues facing this country, and nothing is going to deter me from a deep, unflagging involvement in that pursuit." Take that!, I thought smugly. "So just ask your questions, and we'll see who's sub-informed!"<br />
<br />
"All right, sir," she said, properly admonished. "On a scale of one to five, where one indicates you disagree, two indicates you somewhat disagree, three indicates you..."<br />
<br />
"How much longer is this going to take?" I asked as I tried to read Jessica Fletcher's lips explaining to Sheriff Tupper why it was necessary for the librarian to poison the English professor.<br />
<br />
"It should only take three or four minutes, sir, but first I have to explain the scale. On a scale of one to five, where one indicates you strongly disagree, two indicates you somewhat disagree, three indicates you..." <br />
<br />
"'...neither agree nor disagree'. I get it. Let's go."<br />
<br />
"...four indicates you somewhat agree," she persisted.<br />
<br />
"...and five indicates I strongly agree. I told you I get it. Can we just get on to the damn questions?"<br />
<br />
"Well, you don't have to be so mean," she said. I thought I heard a sniffle.<br />
<br />
"Are you crying?" I asked. "There's no crying in political polls."<br />
<br />
"I'm not c-c-crying."<br />
<br />
I began to feel the slightest bit of regret, but I couldn't help going on. "Well, you sounded like you were crying," I grouched.<br />
<br />
"You're my first call. I just hoped I'd do better." <br />
<br />
A bolt of self-recrimination sobered me. "Look, I'm sorry. I was just , well, I was watching 'Murder She Wrote'..."<br />
<br />
"The Marathon? Oh, I wanted to watch but, well, obviously I have to work."<br />
<br />
Now I felt even worse. Here was a working woman, trying to make it in the world, probably never poisoned anyone, and I was giving her a hard time. "I'm really sorry. Can we just start over?"<br />
<br />
"No. The rules say once we've had personal interaction with the subject the poll is invalidated."<br />
<br />
"Well, for what it's worth I think you were doing a great job." <br />
<br />
"Thank you," she said, sounding a little brighter. "Before I go I have to indicate what invalidated the poll. How would you feel if I put down you were being an uncooperative, mean spirited,..."<br />
<br />
"...old poop?" I said helpfully.<br />
<br />
"Well," she laughed, "I can't put that down, but what if I did? What would you think?" <br />
<br />
I paused a moment and considered my behavior..<br />
<br />
"Probably agree," I said. <br />
<br />
<br />Jim D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/02937524015257942529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11444919.post-54474047211589496492014-07-09T14:50:00.000-04:002014-07-09T14:50:28.612-04:00Come Fly With MeI recently had the opportunity to engage in the adventure that is air travel in early 21st century America. I hadn't flown in a while and I was eager to find out about the latest innovations.<br />
<br />
My wife and I arrived at the airport about four and a half hours before our flight was scheduled to depart to make sure we would clear check-in and security with time to spare.<br />
<br />
"Do you really think it's necessary to get here so early?" my wife asked patiently.<br />
<br />
"Don't worry about that," I replied condescendingly. "By the time we clear check-in and security we'll be running to make the plane."<br />
<br />
Clearing check-in and security took about 15 minutes.<br />
<br />
As we sat in the waiting area my wife glanced at the departure schedule overhead which indicated our flight had been delayed and would now be leaving in six hours.<br />
<br />
"Should we start running yet?" she inquired innocently.<br />
<br />
After reading the books we had brought for the flight, checking and rechecking the email on our phones, and enjoying a meal purchased from the airport souvenir shop (I had beef jerky, potato chips and a candy bar; she had dried fruit, peanuts, and a disgusted look on her face) we were beginning to get a little bored. I was looking around for someone to ask what was taking so long when a young woman in a militaristic uniform approached the podium, which stood beside our boarding gate.<br />
<br />
"We are ready to begin pre-boarding," she said over a muffled PA system.<br />
<br />
As we began to gather our carry-on luggage I couldn't help posing this question to no one in particular: If waiting to board an airplane for six hours isn't considered "pre-boarding", what exactly is?<br />
<br />
"Pre-boarding will begin with Loyalty Program Members only," said the young woman behind the podium. <br />
<br />
"Are we Loyalty Program Members?" asked my wife.<br />
<br />
"I'm not sure," I said. "I'll check."<br />
<br />
I approached the young woman behind the podium while enduring the withering gazes of those who were <i>certain </i>they were Loyalty Program Members and who had already begun lining up.<br />
<br />
"Hey, buddy. There's a line," growled one especially loyal member.<br />
<br />
"Yes, I see," I said, not quite knowing who I was talking to. "I'm just not sure if I'm a Loyalty Program Member or not."<br />
<br />
This produced a round of chuckles among those in the loyalty line. "How many times have you flown this year?" came a voice.<br />
<br />
"Actually, this is my first trip."<br />
<br />
The chuckles turned to guffaws and then to peals of laughter.<br />
<br />
"Let me give you a clue, buddy," said the voice that had spoken first. "If you don't fly once a week, then you're not a Loyalty Program Member."<br />
<br />
"Once a WEEK?!" I said too loudly. "You people all fly once a week?"<br />
<br />
"At least," said another voice, nervously. "You can't miss a week. Oh, no."<br />
<br />
"What happens if you miss a week?" I asked.<br />
<br />
There was a universal gasp and I think one woman fainted.<br />
<br />
"You lose your points!" said a businessman in a three piece suit, his voice cracking slightly. "All of them!"<br />
<br />
"You don't want to lose your points," said a young woman, looking around nervously as if she were afraid of being overheard. "Once they're gone, they're gone for good."<br />
<br />
"That sounds bad," I commiserated. "I guess you wouldn't be able to board before everyone else then."<br />
<br />
An evangelical voice came forth. "That's not the only benefit. There's the extra leg room. And bigger seats."<br />
<br />
"Bigger seats," murmured several of the people in line, nodding their heads. <br />
<br />
Then an older gentleman added, "And the flight is faster in the Loyalty Program Seats."<br />
<br />
"Don't all the seats get there at the same time?" I reasoned. "I mean, they're all on the same plane."<br />
<br />
The entire line repeated, "The flight is faster in the Loyalty Program Seats. The flight is faster in the Loyalty Program Seats." They were looking off into the distance, but they didn't seem to be seeing anything.<br />
<br />
Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the young woman behind the podium begin to raise a walkie-talkie to her lips. I thought is was best to return to my seat in the waiting area.<br />
<br />
"Well," inquired my wife, "did you find out if we are Loyalty Program Members?"<br />
<br />
"I don't think we are." I shuddered. "I don't think we want to be."<br />
<br />
After a few minutes the young woman behind the podium announced that
people with small children would be allowed to pre-board as well. Then several other categories of passengers with special privileges were also permitted to pre-board. <br />
<br />
After a while I looked around an noticed that my wife and I were the
only ones left in the waiting area. <br />
<br />
After a short pause the young woman behind the podium announced urgently, "Final boarding! Final boarding! The doors will be closing in one minute."<br />
<br />
We grabbed our carry-on and began hurrying to the gate. "I told you we'd be running," I said triumphantly. "I told you."<br />
<br />
We sped through the boarding gate, scrambled through the tunnel, stumbled down the aisle toward the rear of the plane, and found our seats which were conveniently located next to the toilet. <br />
<br />
After we belted ourselves in and were reasonably comfortable, I turned toward my wife who I consider my most trusted confidant and advisor. "Let me ask you something."<br />
<br />
"What?"<br />
<br />
"Do these seats seem slow to you?"<br />
<br />
<br />Jim D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/02937524015257942529noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11444919.post-49583594065200448482014-06-20T10:19:00.000-04:002014-06-20T10:19:53.183-04:00Here Kitty, Kitty, Kitty<div style="text-align: center;">
<img alt="http://fffff.at/fuckflickr/data/randy/web/kittay1.gif" class="decoded" src="http://fffff.at/fuckflickr/data/randy/web/kittay1.gif" /></div>
<br />
I was feeling a little down because I haven't really been getting as many views on my blog as I'd like. Then I heard an interview with a woman who had a kitten blog that was getting hundreds of readers.<br />
<br />
I admit I was a bit resentful at first. After all here I am sweating away to produce a blog of humor and inspiration and all she is producing is crap about cats. Young adorable cats with big eyes and fur that looks so soft that you could just eat them up...who's a pretty kitty? who's a pretty kitty?...<br />
<br />
But I digress.<br />
<br />
After giving it a little thought it occurred to me that rather than begrudge this woman her success, I might follow her example. I might be able to get hundreds of readers too if I just wrote about kittens once in a while. It also helps, I've been told, to have a picture of some unbearably endearing neonatal felines included in the blog, so that is what the photo above is all about. Also it is good if the reader can get involved in the life story of the cats, especially if one or more are in some sort of peril.<br />
<br />
To facilitate my narrative I've assigned names to the cats in the photo and am fabricating the fiction that they are in some way related. You know, "sisters" and "brothers" - that sort of thing.<br />
<br />
Their noms-de-chat are, from left to right, Fluffy, Cookie, Sweetie, Brownie, and Sugarplum. Cookie and Sweetie are females; Fluffy, Brownie and Sugarplum are males.<br />
<br />
Sugarplum had a difficult birth and is a bit sickly and there is a question of whether or not he will make it. Cookie and Sweetie are very concerned about Sugarplum, but Fluffy only cares about what the next meal will be.<br />
<br />
Brownie is a bit of a rascal and is always getting into tight spots.<br />
<br />
Fluffy, Cookie, Sweetie, Brownie, and Sugarplum reside with the Poorchild family who live in abject poverty. Why a financially disadvantaged family would decide to keep five cats is a mystery to me, but this plot device seems to be very common in cat literature so I am including it here. <br />
<br />
Little Molly Poorchild, the youngest daughter, loves all the kittens but is especially fond of Sugarplum. Molly also is sickly and so identifies with the struggle Sugarplum must put forth each day just to survive.<br />
<br />
Mr. Poorchild, who works part-time as a coal miner, has managed to scrape together enough money for the medication that may be able to help Molly. But Molly knows that Sugarplum also needs medicine. Molly knows where her father has concealed the money to pay for her prescription, and is planning to take that money and get Sugarplum the medicine that is so vital to his well being.<br />
<br />
What will happen to Molly and Sugarplum? <br />
<br />
Oh, who cares. It's just cats. It's not like I'm going to lose any sleep over it.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
### </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Microsoft Word Document: Created at 2:36AM</i></span></div>
<br />
<br />
"You did WHAT?!!!"</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Molly had never seen her father so mad. Even when her brother Jacob spilled an entire bottle of milk and they had to spend a week drinking coal-water for breakfast. Even when the electric company shut off the lights. Even when the mailman brought that letter.<br />
<br />
He had been mad those times, of course, but his face had never been this red and his eyes had never been this mean.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
She was sitting across from him at the kitchen table, holding Sugarplum in the crook of her left arm. She pulled the animal a little bit closer as if to shield him from her father's wrath. "Sugarplum was sick, daddy. He needed med'cine."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"You need medicine too, Molly. You need..." His voice broke and Molly saw his shoulders sag like a dead tree weighted with snow.<br />
<br />
After taking a moment to control himself he asked sadly, "Where's the cat medicine?" <br />
<br />
Molly handed over the white pharmacy bag. Mr. Poorchild opened it and looked inside.<br />
<br />
There were two bottles of medicine and a note from the pharmacist.<br />
<br />
"The little girl gave me an envelope of money and asked for some medicine for her cat. I noticed there was a prescription in the envelope so I filled that, too. Tell her to take good care of that kitten. He's adorable."<br />
<br />
As Mr. Poorchild examined the two containers Sugarplum wriggled free of Molly's grasp. She tried to grab him, but he darted across the table and began nuzzling one of her father's calloused and weathered hands.<br />
<br />
"Look, Daddy! Sugarplum is giving you lovies!" giggled Molly.<br />
<br />
"So he is," said Mr. Poorchild as Sugarplum stretched up to lick the tear that was running down his cheek. "So he is."<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
###</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
The elderly, wizened writer stumbled slumberously back to bed. He glanced at the angry red numerals on the digital clock that sat accusingly on the bed-table. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
03:05AM</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
As he slipped between the sheets his wife stirred and mumbled, "Blog again?"</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Yep."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Cats?"</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Uh-huh."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"How'd it turn out?"</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"They'll be fine."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Molly and Sugarplum too?"</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Yes."<br />
<br />
"God bless you," she yawned as she rolled over and settled next to him.<br />
<br />
"One thing, though."<br />
<br />
"What's that?" She was almost asleep.<br />
<br />
"I may have spilled an entire bottle of milk."<br />
<br />
"Well," she said, "it's coal-water for you, then." <br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
Jim D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/02937524015257942529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11444919.post-8343796896077208882014-06-11T14:15:00.001-04:002014-06-11T14:15:33.250-04:00Random Thoughts on Nicknames<div align="LEFT" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 0.25in;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 0.25in;">I've
always been intrigued by nicknames, particularly when a given nickname is a variation of a person's last name. This seems to be the height of sobriquet lassitude.</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 0.25in;">
<br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">One example I remember from my youth is Hilary
Hinton "Zig" Ziglar, a salesman and motivational speaker
who I would occasionally see when I was a child and spent a great deal of time watching television with my grandmother. "</span></span></span>Your attitude, not your aptitude, will determine your altitude" is one of his sayings that I remember. At the time I was too young to know what aptitude meant, but I had been frequently reminded that my attitude needed adjusting. </div>
<div align="LEFT" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">That reminds me of another nickname from those days. A man named Loyd
C. Sigmon worked in Los Angele </span></span></span><span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">radio </span></span></span><span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"> in the 1950's. Mr. Sigmon would monitor traffic information from the California Highway Patrol and when a problem developed he would notify all the radio stations in the area. This became known as a "SigAlert"</span></span> and he became known as "Sig" Sigmon. The stations would then transmit the SigAlert to their helicopter traffic reporters who would include it in their next report. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: normal;">I'm not sure what determined how high these helicopters flew in order to see the traffic patterns, but I'm sure Mr. Ziglar would have suggested it was their attitude.</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">I
wonder if “Zig” Ziglar and “Sig” Sigmon were ever introduced at a party? </span></span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span>
</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“Zig, meet
Sig."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"> "Sig, say hello to Zig.”</span></span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 0.25in;">
<center>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></center>
<center>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">###</span></span></center>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">Don't
confuse this naming convention with people whose <i>actual </i>first names are a variation of their last names. New Jersey Governor Chris
Christie would be an example of this, or musician Robbie Robertson.
Again, I think this shows a certain lack of parental aspiration. </span></span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; line-height: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">I have to give the parents of singer </span></span></span><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Kristoffer
"Kris" Kristofferson credit, though. They pretty much hit the name/nickname trifecta.</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; line-height: 0.25in;">
<br />
<center>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
###</span></span></center>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; line-height: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">There
are some people whose first names and last names are the same. Sirhan
Sirhan is a notorious example, but when I was studying poetry
in college my buddies and I always got a chuckle out of Ford
Madox Ford and William Carlos Williams. Later we found out Ford Madox
Ford had changed his name from Ford Hermann Hueffer. </span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">That got a bigger chuckle.</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 0.25in;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">###</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: normal;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"> Many well known people would probably benefit from a well formed </span></span></span><span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">nickname. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">Abraham Lincoln, for example, is familiar as our 16th President. His best known nicknames are "The Great Emancipator" or "Honest Abe". But really "Ladies and Gentlemen please welcome Abraham 'The Great Emancipator' Lincoln..." just sounds wordy and awkward.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">"Linc" Lincoln sounds much better. With a name like that he could be an insurance salesman or car dealer. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">"Come on down to 'Linc' Lincoln's Mile of Cars..."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">And what about George "The Father of His Country" Washington? Descriptive, yes, but it hardly rolls off the tongue.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /><span style="text-decoration: none;">However "Wash" Washington? That's a name any motivational speaker could be proud of. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">"Please welcome our guest speaker at this year's Make Yourself Happen Now conference, 'Wash' Washington..." </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; line-height: 0.25in;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; line-height: 0.25in;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">Vladimir "</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; line-height: 0.25in;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; line-height: 0.25in;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">Diabolical manipulator of global crises</span></span></span></span>" Putin sounds so dire and threatening. But "Poo" Putin? He might be a third baseman. </span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; line-height: 0.25in;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">Or A Bear of Very Little Brain.</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">###</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; line-height: 0.25in;">All this is probably a waste of valuable blog space, but I'm not the only one who has written on this subject.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; line-height: 0.25in;">"</span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">What's in a name? that which we call a rose</span></span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">By any other name would smell as sweet."</span></span></span></div>
<br />
That's what<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; line-height: 0.25in;"> "Shake" Shakespeare has to say. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; line-height: 0.25in;">And with a cool name like that, well you just <i>gotta </i>believe him. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></span></span>
<br />
<div align="LEFT" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
Jim D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/02937524015257942529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11444919.post-6012652243421897252014-06-02T12:59:00.000-04:002014-06-02T12:59:49.252-04:00Lanky PankyI was bringing home some donuts for breakfast the other day and had just gotten on the elevator when a well-formed hand stopped the door as it was closing. It was Kurt, the personal trainer who lives in my building. He does not have the muscular build you might expect. Instead he is tall and lanky, a little like James Stewart - if James Stewart shaved his head and wore an earring.<br />
<br />
Having a personal trainer in the building is a little like having a doctor or tax accountant. People feel they are entitled to free advice on anything remotely related to medicine or finance or whatever the area of expertise might be. I was once in the laundry room with with a tenant/dentist who told of being peppered with questions from a woman who lived in the building. "None of the questions had to do with dentistry," he said, "but she was only too happy to show me the rash on her back and shoulders."<br />
<br />
I find this type of behavior reprehensible and I would not have thought to bother Kurt. That would not have been neighborly. That would have been rude.<br />
<br />
Still there was this question that had been bothering me, and I'm confident he would have been highly offended had I not sought his advice.<br />
<br />
No question about it.<br />
<br />
Highly offended. <br />
<br />
"You know, Kurt, you're kind of a lanky fellow. I've always wondered what it would be like if <i>I </i>were lanky."<br />
<br />
He glanced at my five foot six inch stature and the bag of donuts in my hand.<br />
<br />
"Keep wondering", he said in his hard-to-place European accent.<br />
<br />
I smiled genially as I pulled keys out of my pocket and promptly dropped them on the floor of the elevator. "No, really," I said as I bent over to pick them up, "there must be something I can do to become more lanky." <br />
<br />
"Well," he said thoughtfully, "first of all you could stop grunting every time you bend over to pick something up."<br />
<br />
"Duly noted," I said as I sorted through the keys looking for the one to my apartment door. "Actually I was hoping that maybe I could give the <i>appearance </i>of being lanky without actually <i>being </i>lanky."<br />
<br />
He seemed intrigued by the challenge. "Well, you could try standing up a little straighter. You're all..." He struggled to find the word. "How do you say it?" he made a bending motion with his hand.<br />
<br />
"Slouching?" I offered.<br />
<br />
"Hunched!" he said triumphantly. "You are all hunched over. Like a deformity. Yes. Hunched."<br />
<br />
Not wanting to appear quite so Quasimodo-ish, I tried locking my knees in place, throwing back my shoulders, and stretching my neck as much as I could.<br />
<br />
"How's that?" I asked.<br />
<br />
"Again with the grunting, but not bad. Now try reaching for the top of the elevator." He easily raised his hands over his head and placed his palms on the ceiling.<br />
<br />
I straightened my arms over my head as if I were surrendering to a sheriff at high noon and flapped my hands in a vain attempt to reach the dome light overhead. I did my best not to grunt.<br />
<br />
"Well, at least you didn't grunt," said Kurt sympathetically.<br />
<br />
As I lowered my hands an unbidden whoosh of air released itself from my lungs.<br />
<br />
"That's wasn't a grunt!" I protested defensively. "That was a whoosh."<br />
<br />
"If you say so."<br />
<br />
"Maybe lanky isn't all it's cracked up to be," I said as I straightened my shirt.<br />
<br />
"It's a blessing and a curse," he said philosophically.<br />
<br />
Feeling a little philosophical myself I said, "I guess you get a lot of people asking you for advice."<br />
<br />
"No, not too many. Once in a while." <br />
<br />
At that moment I realized I had not pushed the button for my stop. Thankfully the elevator only went one floor past mine and when the doors opened I got off, intending to take the stairs back down. There was an elderly woman standing in the hallway.<br />
<br />
"Hold the door!" she commanded.<br />
<br />
I grabbed the door for a moment but warned her, "It's going up." She glanced inside and saw Kurt and said, "That's alright. I don't mind a little ride."<br />
<br />
As the door closed and the elevator began to rise I heard her fading voice saying, "What do you know about rashes? And who is that unfortunate hunched man?"<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Jim D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/02937524015257942529noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11444919.post-39383062114480437132014-05-27T08:57:00.002-04:002014-05-27T08:58:28.228-04:00Man Answers Cell Phone At Exorcism<br />
"May I speak to Mr. Howard Farnsworth please?"<br />
<br />
"This is he."<br />
<br />
"Hello, Mr. Farnsworth. This is Carl with Lucifer's."<br />
<br />
"Lucifer's?"<br />
<br />
"Yes. You remember you sold your soul to us in 2007?"<br />
<br />
"Yes, I remember."<br />
<br />
"And have you enjoyed the untold riches and access to beautiful women you have received in exchange"<br />
<br />
"I suppose so." <br />
<br />
"Where are you now, Mr. Farnsworth?"<br />
<br />
"Now?"<br />
<br />
"At this moment. Where exactly are you?"<br />
<br />
"Um, well, I'd rather not say..."<br />
<br />
"I see. Well, let me get Lucifer then..."<br />
<br />
"No, no. That won't be necessary. I'm standing in front of a building..."<br />
<br />
"That would be The Church of the Holy Sorrow in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, New York, correct?" <br />
<br />
"How did you know..."<br />
<br />
"Ah, Brooklyn. It is such a lovely place. It is known as the <i>Borough of Churches</i>. Did you know that?"<br />
<br />
"I might have heard..."<br />
<br />
"DID YOU KNOW IT?!!!"<br />
<br />
"Yes, yes I did know it."<br />
<br />
"Now, according to our records you have registered for an exorcism there at Holy Sorrow scheduled for, oh, look, just two minutes from now. Why would you want to do that?"<br />
<br />
"I don't know. I guess I just sort of wanted my soul back."<br />
<br />
"Despite the fact that you are now part of an affiliation that is over 300 Million souls strong?"<br />
<br />
"That many?"<br />
<br />
"And growing every day, Mr. Farnsworth. All the cool guys are in it. Now what would make you want to leave something as popular and cool as that?"<br />
<br />
"Um, the Power of Christ compels me?"<br />
<br />
"Very funny, Mr. Farnsworth. I just wonder what it would take to keep you here with Lucifer's?"<br />
<br />
"Well, I guess if there was some way I could get my soul back..."<br />
<br />
"Hmmm. You know, if it was up to me that would be no problem, but my supervisor has some very...exacting standards. Oh, what the hell. Yes, what the Hell indeed. Let me see what I can do. Now it looks like you are on the single soul plan, is that right?"<br />
<br />
"Well, yes. I mean I only have one immortal soul, right?"<br />
<br />
"Mr. Farnsworth, let me tell you about our Friends and Family program..."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Jim D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/02937524015257942529noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11444919.post-37544415907326310542014-05-19T09:43:00.001-04:002014-05-19T09:43:28.222-04:00Aunt Gaddy<span style="font-family: inherit;">My Aunt Gaddy came to town the other weekend for a visit. Although she hails from Long Island, Gaddy has always affected a down home, common folk, rural persona. Family legend has it that
as a teenager she had "spent time with" a touring country/western singer and from that point on
it was all "Darn tootin'" and "Mercy me".</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It happened that I was planning a small dinner party for some friends that Saturday night, and once she found out about it Gaddy insisted that she would prepare the meal. She fancies herself an excellent cook, especially when it comes to what she calls "real" food. If you spend some time discussing this with her you soon find out that anything that is not fried, salted, fatted or glazed is not "real".</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Gaddy happily began pawing through the kitchen cabinets searching for ingredients.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Where's the lard?" she asked.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Lard?" I tried to disguise the panic in my voice. "For what?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">She didn't seem to hear me as her head was stuck deeply into the bowels of our pantry. "I need lard, pickling salt, blackstrap molasses and a deep fryer," her voice echoed ominously from inside.</span><br />
<div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"F-f-for what?" I repeated.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">She pulled herself out of the pantry and looked at me with a self-satisfied smile. "Why, fried mayonnaise, of course!" she jubilated.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I tried to picture what I imagined - I admit unfairly - would be a glutenous, quivering mass. Then I thought about the effect this dish might have on my dinner guests, a group composed of vegetarians (lacto <i>and</i> ovo), vegans, pescatarians, macrobioticals, and one young man who refuses to reveal what he can't eat until he sees what you are serving.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I did my best to disguise my desperation. "Um I don't think we actually have any mayonnaise." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Oh, mercy me, don't you worry about that," sympathized Gaddy. "We can use Miracle Whip if that's all you have. It won't be quite as glutenous, but it will still quiver nicely."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Look, Aunt Gaddy, I'm a little concerned that my friends might not have acquired the taste for fried mayonnaise." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">She considered this. "I see. You know your cousin Harlen is the same way. He won't touch fried mayonnaise unless I put soured okra on top! Can you imaging?" She wrinkled her nose and thought for a moment. She stuck her head back in the panty. "Where <i>is </i>the soured okra?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"No, no, no, no, no..." I was beginning to babble. "I think we'll need something else..."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A chuckle echoed from inside and her head reappeared. "Well, of course there will be something else! You can't just have fried mayonnaise for dinner."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Seeing a glimmer of hope I replied, "No. No you can't."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Let's see? What goes with fried mayonnaise?" She said this as if there were a panoply of choices, each more delightful than the one before.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Why don't I just order..."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Catfish melt?" she pondered to herself. "Double stuffed gut rind?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Actually, Gaddy, I already promised my friends that I'd be serving Thai food."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Thai? You mean like Thailand?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Yes. That's right. Thailand. You know, Asia."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Oh, of course. Thai."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Exactly. So I thought I'd just order from a restaurant..."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Isaan, Central, or Southern?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"What?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Isaan, I think. How does Grilled Pork Neck sound?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"It sounds disgusting..."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Pickled blue crab," she mused, "with fermented fish sauce..." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Wait, Gaddy..."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"I know! Grilled chicken livers with..."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"STOP!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"...tamarind dipping sauce...Why, what in tarnation is wrong, darlin'?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I tried to compose myself. I gently put my hand on her shoulder and leaned into the pantry. "Sakes alive," I drawled, "where <i>did</i> I put that lard?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
Jim D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/02937524015257942529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11444919.post-60625715136403565842014-05-10T09:31:00.001-04:002014-05-10T09:31:56.426-04:00Putin Signs Law Forcing Popular Bloggers To Register<br />
Embassy of the Russian Federation<br />
Washington, DC<br />
Attn: Blog Registration Division<br />
Dear Sirs,<br />
<br />
I am writing to inform you that I wish to register my blog, The JD Times, in compliance with recently passed legislation. As an important and influential source of humor and inspiration I have determined that my blog falls within the purview of this law, since it is a significant global media outlet of vital information.<br />
<br />
Please register my blog as soon as you can because, honestly, it is really popular, well read, and a beloved source of information to several people.<br />
<br />
It is not nearly the colossal waste of time you may have heard it is.<br />
<br />
Yours truly, <br />
<br />
The JD Times.<br />
New York, NY <br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
###</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Thank you for contacting The Embassy of the Russian Federation, Customer Service.
We are in receipt of your communication and a Customer Care Representative will respond
to your inquiry.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Sincerely, </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">The Embassy of the Russian Federation</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Customer Support </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">www.russianembassy.org/support.html </span><br />
<br />
<pre></pre>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<pre></pre>
<div style="text-align: center;">
###</div>
<br />
Embassy of the Russian Federation<br />
Washington, DC<br />
Attn: Blog Registration Division<br />
Dear Sirs,<br />
<br />
I'm afraid there has been a misunderstanding. I don't have a problem with customer care. I just want to register my important, hugely popular, highly entertaining blog because it it a profound source of information to many, many people.<br />
<br />
JD Times. <br />
New York, NY <br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">###</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Thank you for contacting The Embassy of the Russian Federation, Customer Service.
We are in receipt of your communication and w</span>e note that that you "have a problem with customer care". A Customer Care Problem Resolution Officer will be contacting you shortly.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Sincerely,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">The Embassy of the Russian Federation</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Customer Care Resolution Division </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">www.russianembassy.org/resolution.html</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">###</span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Embassy of the Russian Federation</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Washington, DC</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Attn: Blog Registration Division</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dear Sirs,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: normal;">Can't you get it through your thick skulls that I don't have a customer care problem and don't need a Customer Care Problem Resolution Officer! I just want to register my stupid blog! </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: normal;">JD Times</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
New York, NY </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">### </span><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Thank you for contacting The Embassy of the Russian Federation, Customer Service.
We are in receipt of your communication and we note that</span></span> you "don't need a Customer Care Problem Resolution Officer" in relation to the problem with your skull. Therefore we will be forced to escalate this issue to a higher level. </span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Sincerely,</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">The Embassy of the Russian Federation</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Customer Care Enforcement Division </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">www.russianembassy.org/enforcement.html</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">###</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
Embassy of the Russian Federation<br />
Washington, DC<br />
Attn: Blog Registration Division<br />
Dear Sirs,<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Oh, just forget the whole thing. I don't want your dumb Federation looking at my blog, anyway.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">JD Times </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
New York, NY </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">###</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Thank you for contacting The Embassy of the Russian Federation, Customer Service.
We are in receipt of your communication and we note your demand to cease "looking at my blog". Despite</span></span> your pitiful attempts to avoid the No Blogger Left Behind Act, you have been registered and will be monitored by <strike>The Glorious People's Ministry of Literary Appraisal</strike> The Blogger Safety Board to insure that nothing you write, post, or think is of any danger to you or anyone you know, have ever known, or ever will know.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">This monitoring will take effect as soon as the audience for your blog reaches three thousand readers. </span> </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Sincerely,</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">The Embassy of the Russian Federation</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Customer Care Enforcement Division </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">www.russianembassy.org/NBLB.html</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">###</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
Embassy of the Russian Federation<br />
Washington, DC<br />
Attn: Blog Registration Division<br />
Dear Sirs,<br />
<br />
I am in receipt of your most recent missive and, in fact, am reading it now. First of all let me apologize for my previous outburst. I was having a bad...Three THOUSAND readers?!!<br />
<br />
What am I, a Kardashian?<br />
<br />
Just forget the whole thing.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
JD Times.<br />
New York, NY <br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"></span>###</div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Editorial Offices of The JD Times</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">New York, NY</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Attn: Blog Registration Division</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Dear Sirs,</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Thank you for contacting The Embassy of the Russian Federation, Customer Service.
We are in receipt of your communication and</span></span> we note your request to "forget the whole thing"</span><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"> regarding </span></span>the registration of your blog</span><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">. Unfortunately, this is not possible. We are Russian. We never forget anything.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">In fact an <strike>operative</strike> representative will be meeting you and your Kardashian friends soon. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Very soon.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Sincerely,</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">The Russian Embassy</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Washington, DC</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Scheduling Division</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">www.russianembassy.org/meeting.html</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"> </span> </span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">###</span></div>
<br />
Embassy of the Russian Federation<br />
Washington, DC<br />
Attn: Blog Registration Division<br />
Dear Sirs,<br />
<br />
Thank you for contacting The JD Times, Customer Service. We are in receipt of your communication and a customer service representative will respond to your inquiry as soon as the audience for your inquiry reaches three thousand readers.<br />
<br />
Sincerely,<br />
<br />
The JD Times<br />
Whereabouts Unknown<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"> </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"> </span> </span></span></span></div>
</div>
<pre><span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"> </span></span></pre>
</div>
</div>
Jim D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/02937524015257942529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11444919.post-67533042147080808412014-05-07T09:29:00.000-04:002014-05-07T09:30:22.886-04:00Reactions to Monica Lewinsky<br />
Recently Vanity Fair magazine announced that Monica Lewinsky had written an article for their next issue. This has generated quite a few reactions from around the country.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Mel Robbins, CNN: "Stop judging Monica Lewinski."<br />
<br />
Maureen Dowd, The New York Times: "Monica is in danger of exploiting her own exploitation..."<br />
<br />
Ruth Marcus, The Washington Post: "(she) saw her life irreparably shattered..."<br />
<br />
Cliven Bundy, Nevada Rancher: "I want to tell you one more thing I know about the 24 year old White House intern..."</blockquote>
<br />
<br />Jim D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/02937524015257942529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11444919.post-55484240878183312762014-05-01T15:59:00.000-04:002014-05-01T16:00:00.034-04:00Smoothie, SchmoothieWhile sitting in my doctor's' waiting room last week I happened to pick up an issue of MyInternetWebDoctor magazine. Dr. Jake is a camper and hunter, so this issue lurked among other publications with titles such as <i>Outdoor Rx </i>and <i>Field and Stream and Autoimmune Disease</i>s, along with a well-thumbed copy of a book called <i>Off My Meds: A Journey Alone</i>.<br />
<br />
I wouldn't call this issue of MyInternetWebDoctor a recent issue (unless they haven't published anything since 2012) but since it was a magazine with which I was unfamiliar I thought I'd give it a browse.<br />
<br />
Inside there was a very compelling article about the myriad common, everyday items that could kill you in an instant, and another about how coffee can both cause <i>and </i>cure cancer. But the one I found most interesting was an excellent story about food preparation devices, primarily because it included a stunning photograph a rather muscular smoothie making machine standing next to the elegantly attractive blended concoction it had wrought. The two of them together looked like a pair of Hollywood stars standing on a red carpet at some obscure, food preparation device awards program.<br />
<br />
Let me digress for a moment to say that one of the things I most admire about us Americans is our unique ability to find names for things that don't have names. A "smoothie" might have been called a "squash-ie" or a "mush-ie" but "smoothie" just seems so appropriate and I have to give kudos to whoever thought it up.<br />
<br />
My first stop after leaving the doctor's office was the local appliance store and soon I was hurrying home with visions of frothy healthful mixtures in my head.<br />
<br />
"Look," I proudly said to my wife as I walked into the kitchen holding up my treasure.<br />
<br />
"What't that?" she asked, looking up from her book. "A blender?"<br />
<br />
"It happens to be a smoothie maker," I instructed. Then added, in case she didn't quite understand the technology involved, "It's for making smoothies."<br />
<br />
"Hmmm. Thanks for explaining that." <br />
<br />
I quickly un-boxed the instrument, glanced briefly at the instructions which were much too complicated and loaded with warnings, and dove right in to making my first smoothie.<br />
<br />
I quickly filled the blending vessel with yogurt, strawberries, and ice cubes.<br />
<br />
"I think you're supposed to use crushed ice," my wife said helpfully. "Did you read the instructions?"<br />
<br />
"I think I know how to make a smoothie, dear," I replied, "and these cubes are pretty small . More like cube-etts, really."<br />
<br />
"I don't believe I've ever heard of cube-etts," she said, "but it's your blender."<br />
<br />
"Smoothie maker," I muttered as I pressed the "Go" button.<br />
<br />
There was a brief whirring sound, followed by a harsh grinding sound, followed by a very long silence sound. I pushed the "Go" button a few more times, but it was clear that the device was no longer functional.<br />
<br />
"Sounds like you might have to return it," my wife noted.<br />
<br />
Apparently she had forgotten that I do not come from a people who are returners. If, for example, we are in a restaurant and something is brought to our table that we did not order, we just eat it. I once saw my mother eat a children's platter of macaroni and cheese when she had actually ordered a chef salad because, as she put it, "I don't want to make a scene."<br />
<br />
So the idea of returning a smoothie maker which I very well may have caused to malfunction was not exactly in my comfort zone. Still, it was painfully clear that something had gone wrong and steps had to be taken.<br />
<br />
When I got back to the store I managed to track down the salesman who had sold me the mechanism of betrayal, a man named Dale.<br />
<br />
"Dale!" I said heartily, "I have a little problem here."<br />
<br />
"What, with the blender?" he said.<br />
<br />
"Smoothie maker," I said. "It just stopped working. I'm thinking it may be defective or something."<br />
<br />
"Let's have a look." He took it from me, glanced inside the glass container, shook it a couple of times, and said, "Has someone been putting ice cubes in this?"<br />
<br />
"Ice cubes?!" I exclaimed incredulously. "Of course not." <br />
<br />
He looked again, more carefully. "How about cube-etts?"<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
### </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<u>EndNote</u></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
It turns out the smoothie got it's name in the 1960's from the California Smoothie Company. The California Smoothie Company is located in Paramus, New Jersey. </div>
<br />
No word yet on who invented the cube-ett.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Jim D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/02937524015257942529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11444919.post-80161259600937902882014-04-24T09:51:00.000-04:002014-04-24T09:51:05.931-04:00The Accidental BeggarI got up one morning last week and realized there was no coffee in the house. I'm no good until I get that first cup in me, so I pulled on an old pair of sneakers, some grey sweatpants, and my favorite yellow shirt, then set out for my local coffee bar. <br />
<br />
Upon arrival I impatiently placed my order and when it was ready I eagerly grabbed the sacred libation from the barista, spilling a bit on my shirt, and strutted out into a glorious Spring morning. I wouldn't say I guzzled the drink, but I certainly wasted no time in consuming it. I was just looking around for a trash receptacle in which to deposit the empty paper cup when I noticed my left shoe was untied. I got down on one knee to tie it, placing the cup on the sidewalk in front of me. At that moment a matronly woman happened to walk by and drop a dollar bill into my cup. "Get yourself something to eat, dear," she said kindly. As I looked up she smiled sympathetically.<br />
<br />
She walked on a few steps then stopped, thought for a moment, and came back. She looked down at me sadly, opened her purse, pulled out a five dollar bill and also dropped it in the cup.<br />
<br />
"And get a clean shirt," she advised confidentially. "It will make you feel so much better about yourself."<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
###</div>
<br />
When I got home and told my wife what had happened she helpfully remarked, "Looks like you've got $6 to put in the poor box at St. Joe's."<br />
<br />
When I agreed she smiled and added, "I'll bet they'll take that shirt off your hands, too. If you beg."Jim D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/02937524015257942529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11444919.post-68104867450186504232014-04-13T16:53:00.000-04:002014-04-13T16:53:34.179-04:00What The Good Book SaysI was speaking to my spiritual advisor the other day and I happened to mention how foolish people seem to be these days.<br />
<br />
<div>
"I believe The Good Book may be able to offer some words on this troubling matter, my seeker." He spoke not so much in sentences as in pronouncements, with a voice of such stentorian timbre that it was as if the words were being delivered by the Deity Himself. </div>
<div>
<br />
He paused a moment to gather his thoughts. "As the Book of Leviticus tells us," he began, gazing off toward some sacred horizon, "'What fools these mortals be'."<br />
<br />
I took a moment to grasp this, then replied, "I don't think that's actually The Book of Leviticus, Reverend."<br />
<br />
"Excuse me, my supplicant?"<br />
<br />
"I believe that's Shakespeare."<br />
<br />
"Are you quite sure?"<br />
<br />
"A Midsummer Night's Dream. I believe."<br />
<br />
He considered this for a moment. "I imagine that <i>seems </i>pretty foolish of me, doesn't it? Yet I see this as a teachable moment, my initiate. For as St. Paul wrote in his letter to the Ephesians, 'You can fool all of the people some of the time...'"<br />
<br />
"Um, that's not St. Paul, Exalted One. That's Abraham Lincoln."<br />
<br />
"<i>Saint</i> Abraham Lincoln?"<br />
<br />
"<i>President </i>Abraham Lincoln."<br />
<br />
"Hmm." He looked off at the horizon again and contemplated. "I'm reminded today of the story of another Abraham, a story told in the Book of Genesis."<br />
<br />
He took a deep breath and began his parable. <br />
<br />
"One blustery day Abraham was walking with his friends Tigger and Eeyore..."<br />
<br />
"That's the story of Winnie the Pooh, Holy Man, and it's not in the Book of Genesis."<br />
<br />
"So Deuteronomy then?" <br />
<br />
"No. More like the Book of Milne."<br />
<br />
He reflected on this while continuing to stare into the Holy Distance. Some moments passed. He raised his eyes to the sky above and muttered what I took to be a silent prayer, then scanned the ineffable landscape with even more intensity.<br />
<br />
Finally he turned to me and asked, "Do you remember where I parked my car?"<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Jim D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/02937524015257942529noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11444919.post-13551180532372510092014-04-03T16:10:00.000-04:002014-04-03T16:10:01.168-04:00Culinary PerfectionIt was my turn to cook dinner the other night and I thought I might try something different. Normally I'm a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy, by which I mean when I go grocery shopping my shopping list consists of two items: 1.Meat; 2. Potatoes.<br />
<br />
But that night, determined to break out of my rut, I prowled the Internet for some ideas.<br />
<br />
After being distracted by some delightful photos of kittens wearing hats, I found a recipe that I knew would enchant and amaze my wife.<br />
<br />
So when she got home and inquired, "What's for dinner?" I was beaming with pride when I replied, "Something new."<br />
<br />
"New?" she said, suspiciously. "New like how?"<br />
<br />
I paused a moment for dramatic effect. "How do Brussels sprouts in a vinaigrette reduction with brown sugar and pineapple-bacon garni sound?"<br />
<br />
"It sounds pretty ambitious. What else?"<br />
<br />
"Else?"<br />
<br />
"Yes. You weren't planning on just having Brussels sprouts for dinner, were you?"<br />
<br />
"Did I mention garni?" I asked.<br />
<br />
"Sprouts and garni do not a meal make, my love," she said. <br />
<br />
"Well, of <i>course </i>sprouts and <i>garni </i>do not make a <i>meal</i>," I over-inflected.<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> "I am pondering many, many other ideas."</span><br />
<br />
"I get nervous when you ponder. What ideas?"<br />
<br />
"Oh, you know," I said casually. "I thought it might be nice to have some..."<br />
<br />
"Meat?"<br />
<br />
"Maybe..." <br />
<br />
"Potatoes?"<br />
<br />
"Perhaps."<br />
<br />
"I can see it's a bold, new world, dear. I hope I can handle it."<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
###</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
The next day I vowed to expand my recipe <i>assemblage</i>. I turned for help to my local YMWCHA. Sure enough their website revealed a lecture series called "Culinary Perfection" scheduled to begin that very evening. I registered on the spot.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
The class was held in the cafeteria kitchen which was in the basement next to a yarning and felting studio. Several students were already gathered around the teacher, identified on a small placard as "Chef Francoise". </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Chef Francoise spoke with a creditable French accent that made him sound very much like a chef and a tiny bit like Hercule Poirot. "Welcome to Culinary Perfection avec Chef Francoise. I do not like the waste of the time, so let us begin."<br />
<br />
He nodded toward a woman in a red and white long sleeved t-shirt and wearing a beret.<br />
<br />
"Mademoiselle, can you tell me how many of the teaspuns are in the tablespun?"</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Three, Monsieur," she answered brightly. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Oui, Mademoiselle. Trois. Bon."<br />
<br />
I don't really like to answer questions in public, so I had artfully concealed myself behind two wide women toward the rear of the crowd. <br />
<br />
With that unique ability to generate discomfort that only the French can master, Chef Francoise gestured toward me over the top of the two women. "And you, Monsieur," he said, "how many of the tablespuns are in the coop?"</div>
<br />
"Well, Monsieur Le Chef Francoise," I said, sheepishly stepping out from behind the women, "I don't actually use the measuring spoons or the measuring cups."<br />
<br />
"But how is it for you to know the proper amounts?"<br />
<br />
"Oh, I usually just eyeball it."<br />
<br />
"Ah-boll it?" he asked, doubtfully.<br />
<br />
"You know, sort of a rule of thumb kind of thing."<br />
<br />
"And this ah-boll and this thume, they are part of the recipe?" I believe I detected a vague accusation of cannibalism in his question.<br />
<br />
"No, no. I just mean - say I'm adding salt. I usually just pour it in until it looks like I have added about a tablespoon." <br />
<br />
"A tablespun of salt!? Into what recipe en le monde would you add a whole tablespun of salt?"<br />
<br />
"That's just an example. It could be sugar or margarine or..."<br />
<br />
"Attendez! Arrêter! STOP!!!' Chef Francoise's face had become quite rouge at this point. "Salt, sugar, margarine, ah-boll, thume? What recipe du diable is this???"<br />
<br />
"Eeew!" said the women who had unsuccessfully served as my shield.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"First of all," I said, growing indignant, "the eyeball and thumb are not part of this recipe ..."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"There is another recipe? With the ah-boll..."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"NO! There is no ah-boll in any recipe!"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"And the th..."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"No thume, either!"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">"So only le salt, le sugar, and le," here he made a gagging sound, "margarine?"</span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">"That is just part of it. Obviously a recipe needs more than salt, sugar, and" - I whispered so as not to upset him - "the 'M' word."</span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">"And, </span><span lang="fr-FR">s'il vous plaît</span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Monsieur, please tell the members of the class exactly what would be added to complete this disgusting recipe?"</span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I looked around at their expectant faces. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">"I am pondering many, many other ideas."</span></div>
<div>
</div>
Jim D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/02937524015257942529noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11444919.post-25173111367048871802014-03-22T12:43:00.000-04:002014-03-22T14:05:06.793-04:00What's this now?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisp8lPL4HOjLxdl83ZEZxdyX7gISr1P4Y1oEKeY5M5IgV1GBl_FuLQNBxq5m57qTHNNIcqZitG5kD367qd1s-aLDg3k-2lITFhX4kINHwPYfVRFw61-oVw28YxQ71UZGUJw9DzpQ/s1600/Whats+this+now.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisp8lPL4HOjLxdl83ZEZxdyX7gISr1P4Y1oEKeY5M5IgV1GBl_FuLQNBxq5m57qTHNNIcqZitG5kD367qd1s-aLDg3k-2lITFhX4kINHwPYfVRFw61-oVw28YxQ71UZGUJw9DzpQ/s1600/Whats+this+now.jpg"></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
I was doing some tidying up down at The Tranquility Center the
other week. I don't like to brag about it, but I enjoy doing some
volunteer work now and then and TTC is always looking for someone to
answer phones or re-arrange chairs or simply find a way to get the chaos of
a community center into some kind of order.<br>
<br>
As I was planning what to organize next, a
woman near me said, “Hand me that thingamajig.”<br>
<br>
I looked around at the dozens of items that could qualify as a
thingamajig, but couldn't quite figure out what she wanted. “Which
thingamajig was that?” I asked.<br>
<br>
She waved a finger in my general direction and said, “Over
there. That whatchamacallit.”<br>
<br>
It seemed that there were even more whatchamacallits around than
there were thingamajigs so I asked again, “Can you be more
specific?”<br>
<br>
“What are you, a lawyer?” she snorted. “Right there. That
gizmo next to the whatsit.”<br>
<br>
Again, I was lost so I said, as slowly and as patiently as I
could, “What-exactly-do-you want-me-to-hand-you?”<br>
<br>
She paused a moment and then said, equally as slowly and just as patiently, “I-want-you-to-hand-me-that-doohickey.”<br>
<br>
Sensing the possibility of non-tranquility Pastor Carl, the Center's administrator, came over. “What's
going on? Is there a problem.”<br>
<br>
“Yes,” I said sharply. “That woman...”.<br>
<br>
“She has a name, James, just like you and me,” he instructed.<br>
<br>
"Sister Shelly," she said, belligerently. <br>
<br>
“Right. Sister Shelly. Well, Pastor Carl, Sister Shelly wants me to hand her a doomakajig or something, and
she won't BE SPECIFIC ABOUT IT!”<br>
<br>
“We try not to raise our voices at The Tranquility Center, James,”
Pastor Carl reminded me.<br>
<br>
“Of course.” I took a deep breath and let it out
slowly. I would have called it a cleansing breath, except for the fact that I was shaking slightly and I believe my eyes were protruding.<br>
<br>
“That's better," said Pastor Carl using his most Tranquility Centered tone. "Now, Sister Shelly, what is it that you wanted James to hand you?”<br>
<br>
“As I said before, I need that
thingamajig.”<br>
<br>
Ha! I thought. What now, Pastor Carl? What now? <br>
<br>
Pastor Carl paused a moment then asked,“You mean the double-sided adhesive transfer tape dispenser that accommodates both 1/2 and 3/4 inch media?"<br>
<br>
Sister Shelly sent forth a beatific smile and said, "Yes. That's it." Pastor Carl picked it up and handed it to her and she happily set off toward some cardboard boxes.<br>
<br>
"You know, that didn't really look like a thingamajig," I said to Pastor Carl. "To me it looked more like a doodad."<br>
<br>
"I suppose it could have been a doodad," he said in that annoyingly accepting way that he has. <br>
<br>
"Still, I guess you did me a favor, Pastor," I added.<br>
<br>
"And what do we say when someone does us a favor, James?" he asked expectantly.<br>
<br>
"I don't know. Bibbity-Bobbity-Boo?" <br>
<br>
<br>
<br>Jim D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/02937524015257942529noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11444919.post-30790389193109330032014-03-15T15:52:00.000-04:002014-03-15T18:02:45.362-04:00Who has the oldest parent?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN6BVN1lHNMzkn4knqmgUUw41IAvbjfc4qtgU7Fx4xBV4WGxSXe9rvMotunprjLVdj3O3JR2c-x2EIE3uQVUAgWhvN4nrTn7tEX4UlH1iaRMKP1BxHPiODxL8U28Lr6Qh7jO39Uw/s1600/Cane.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN6BVN1lHNMzkn4knqmgUUw41IAvbjfc4qtgU7Fx4xBV4WGxSXe9rvMotunprjLVdj3O3JR2c-x2EIE3uQVUAgWhvN4nrTn7tEX4UlH1iaRMKP1BxHPiODxL8U28Lr6Qh7jO39Uw/s1600/Cane.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I was standing by the water cooler shooting the breeze with some co-workers when I happened to mention that my father would soon be celebrating his ninetieth birthday.<br />
<br />
Franklin, from accounting, said "My Mom's going to be eight-seven next month".<br />
<br />
Ella, the network tech, mentioned "My Dad will be eighty-nine in the Fall. He's so cute. He still says things like 'shooting the breeze'." <br />
<br />
Nelson, my nemisis, pitched in with "<i>My </i>Dad will be ninety-three next week."<br />
<br />
It was typical of Nelson to outdo everyone, so this came as no surprise.<br />
<br />
"That's nice," I said, shamefully wishing my dad had been born just a couple of years earlier.<br />
<br />
"He's sharp as a tack, too," said Nelson. "He actually came in today to meet me for lunch. Hey, Dad!" he hollered.<br />
<br />
A tall, elderly man shuffled out of Nelson's office and down the hall. He had wisps of white hair exploding from various segments of his head and his skin consisted of wrinkled wrinkles. He moved slowly with the aid of a wooden cane, but he stood ramrod straight and his eyes were bright. He smiled pleasantly as he shook my hand.<br />
<br />
"Jim here was just telling me that his father has a birthday coming up. He's going to be ninety," said Nelson. "Not quite as good as ninety-<i>three</i>, though, right, Dad?"<br />
<br />
"Nope," said Nelson's father, "but ninety is pretty good, too."<br />
<br />
"I think so," I said, defensively. "Once you reach ninety your actual age is just a number, really."<br />
<br />
"Sure," said Nelson. "The only difference between a ninety year old father and a ninety-three year old father is that one is, let's see..." He mimed doing a calculation in his head."...three years older." He smiled and added, "Three years, Jim. Three years."<br />
<br />
"Nelson," I sighed, "how did you get this way?"<br />
<br />
"Search me."<br />
<br />
"You know what's a funny thing?" said Nelson's father.<br />
<br />
"What's that?" I asked.<br />
<br />
"I think <i>my </i>father has a birthday coming up too."<br />
<br />
"Oh, for crying out loud. <i>Your </i>father is still with us?" I was incredulous.<br />
<br />
"Yep. And<i> he's</i> going to be a hundred and ten." He smiled and added, "A hundred and ten, Jim. A hundred and ten." <br />
<br />Jim D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/02937524015257942529noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11444919.post-74989198747854592672014-03-11T18:09:00.001-04:002014-03-11T19:52:46.817-04:00There's a new SAT in town<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe frameborder="0" height="400" scrolling="no" src="//embed.gettyimages.com/embed/172767637?et=-nTvYK04rkeY3r1oG_6luw&sig=cdXtidqp4VjKwTaEn2ULtdPXOoxkmGeigomTFPOJqlY=" width="522"></iframe><br /></div>
After hearing all the recent talk about the revisions to the Scholastic Aptitude Test I was interested in finding out what my friend The Tutor thought. I invited him to meet at a local coffee shop for breakfast. <br />
<br />
It didn't take long to glean his opinion. <br />
<br />
"They are simplifying the words!" he said angrily waving a copy of<i> The New York Times</i> under my nose. "Instead of <i>real </i>SAT words like deprecatory or membranous, the
vocabulary words on the new exam will be easy ones like synthesis and empirical."<br />
<br />
"Well, those seem like difficult words too," I said.<br />
<br />
"'Empirical my ass!" he hissed. "They might as well ask them the meaning of 'Yo' and 'Dude'. This is as bad as when they took out the word analogies. Remember that?"<br />
<br />
"Sure," I said, unsure.<br />
<br />
"Dog is to animal as flake is to...?" he test-questioned me.<br />
<br />
"Snow?"<br />
<br />
"That's a guess! You'd get points off for that!" He lowered his voice in disgust. "Until now!" He stabbed at the newspaper with his finger. "But NEWS FLASH! The guessing penalty is being eliminated. Eliminated!" <br />
<br />
"I always thought the guessing penalty was a little harsh," I ventured.<br />
<br />
"Harsh! Ha! They might as well tell the little beggars to answer every question with choice C!" He shook his head and muttered, "No guessing penalty..."<br />
<br />
As someone who usually answered any bewildering question with choice C, I thought it best to change the subject.<br />
<br />
"I always had trouble with the essay," I began.<br />
<br />
"OPTIONAL!" he cried. "They made the essay optional!" <br />
<br />
"Outrageous," I agreed, remembering the feeble score I got on my SAT essay, "Holden Caufield: Why can't he just do what he's told?"<br />
<br />
"And even if they do somehow decide to write an essay, they will be," here he quoted from <i>The Times</i>, "'...asked to read a passage...'" He snorted. "They might as well have someone come in and write the essay for them. What about form? What about function? What about," he lower his voice and spoke these words as a prayer, "critical thinking?"<br />
<br />
I shook my head ponderously. "Can't forget the critical thinking, my friend," I said, then switched to my best evangelist voice. "There lies damnation."<br />
<br />
"You can kid all you want, but this is just the first step down the road to the Triumph of the Ignorati."<br />
<br />
"Then we better place our order in a hurry. I'm having coffee and a doughnut. What do you want?"
<br />
<div class="story-body-text story-content" data-para-count="309" data-total-count="6585" itemprop="articleBody">
<br /></div>
<div class="story-body-text story-content" data-para-count="309" data-total-count="6585" itemprop="articleBody">
"Oh, I'll have tea and, let's see, coffee is to tea as doughnut is to..." He pondered a moment. "A croissant I guess. "</div>
<div class="story-body-text story-content" data-para-count="309" data-total-count="6585" itemprop="articleBody">
<br /></div>
<div class="story-body-text story-content" data-para-count="309" data-total-count="6585" itemprop="articleBody">
"Yo, dude," I said brightly, "there's no penalty for guessing."<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZxvsDLbMM4Gq_WdFXVwVr_stsxLB-kvRX6lsFKTlJ_8xlVMOvBz_6iH-XtD7sH0IRT_27tNQ4qvlA5UO60xjHVajFTu4JXah9vpEvH00WGpX04-iVKEhhWSL2QiHpklvRkf8cYQ/s1600/SAT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZxvsDLbMM4Gq_WdFXVwVr_stsxLB-kvRX6lsFKTlJ_8xlVMOvBz_6iH-XtD7sH0IRT_27tNQ4qvlA5UO60xjHVajFTu4JXah9vpEvH00WGpX04-iVKEhhWSL2QiHpklvRkf8cYQ/s1600/SAT.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<footer class="story-footer story-content">
<div class="story-meta">
</div>
</footer>
Jim D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/02937524015257942529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11444919.post-80973296958308687582014-03-05T20:26:00.000-05:002014-03-07T16:36:16.283-05:00Artisanal Me<div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxRj7zxoMFJwP702vx55G9RK6ilvKHynmK1KcjDOnuxQA7SkdHT-1fGinSQtSE7iP1a4tWyGnB4jl26smz52fhLcJRWpev3ArVKgBzFadHUBdPT3gAzTfojPDE-PvMNvckkerBZQ/s1600/olives.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxRj7zxoMFJwP702vx55G9RK6ilvKHynmK1KcjDOnuxQA7SkdHT-1fGinSQtSE7iP1a4tWyGnB4jl26smz52fhLcJRWpev3ArVKgBzFadHUBdPT3gAzTfojPDE-PvMNvckkerBZQ/s1600/olives.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
The other day I needed some <span style="color: white;"><span style="color: black;">Cantalet</span> </span>so I went down to a new store that had opened in my neighborhood called Ye Olde Artisanal Shoppe. Although it was located on a busy Upper East Side thoroughfare, when I entered I felt that I had been transported into something out of<i> Little House on the Prairie</i>. The walls were lined with rough-hewn wood beams on which hung faded and stained maps depicting the Oregon Trail, the Santa Fe Trail, and the Cumberland Gap. Large oaken barrels filled with a variety of pickles, olives, and mushrooms stood in front of a butcher-block counter. Behind the counter sat the proprietor and next to him was a hand operated cash register that looked like it came from Macy's circa 1911.<br />
<br />
"What do you need?" he asked.<br />
<br />
"Just looking for some Cantalet." I said, pronouncing it kan-tall-ETTE. <br />
<br />
"For <i>what</i>?" he asked, sharply.<br />
<br />
I was slightly flustered as I had not been told there would be a quiz. "Um, you know, kan-tall-ETTE. Cheese? For a ham and cheese sandwich?" I stammered.<br />
<br />
"Ham?" His disdain was palpable. "You were going to serve kawn-TALL-eh, a rich and creamy cheese that is surprisingly dense...with HAM?"<br />
<br />
"Or maybe roast beef?" I answered, fishing for a clue.<br />
<br />
"<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps">Bœuf</span></span>? Kawn-TALL-eh avec <span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps">bœuf?" He shook his head sadly.</span></span><br />
<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps"></span></span><br />
<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps">"Sorry, if I offended you. I didn't know you were French." </span></span><br />
<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps"><br /></span></span>
<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps">"I am from Wisconsin," he said imperiously.</span></span><br />
<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps"><br /></span></span>
<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps">"Oh." I gestured around the Shoppe, "Like <i>Little House on the Prairie</i>." He looked confused so I thought I'd help him out. "'Good night, John Boy'," I quoted.</span></span><br />
<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps"><br /></span></span>
<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps">Through clenched teeth he growled "That was <i>The Waltons</i>, sir, not<i> Little Hous</i>e</span></span><span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps"><span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps"><i> on the Prairie</i>.</span></span>" </span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps">"Oh, right," I acknowledged.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps">"And the prairie was in Minnesota, not Wisconsin."</span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps">I was about to mention how tragic it was that geography was no longer taught in the public schools, but before I could he said "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave."</span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps">"Oh, sure. I have to get back to my sandwich, anyway. Maybe I could pick up some ham?"</span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps">"Certainly, sir. Would you like to 'pick up' Kurobuta or La Quercia?"</span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps">I paused a moment and tried to look like I was weighing my options. Then I said, "How about just a pickle?"</span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps">"</span></span><span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps">Jerked Habenero, Fennel </span></span>Cornichon or Soy-Wasabi?"<br />
<br />
"Um, some olives?"<br />
<br />
"Kalamata? Gaeta? Picholine? Manzanilla? Nicoise? Castelvetrano? Cultivated? Free Range?..." He looked like he could have gone on for the rest of the week.<br />
<br />
"Look, I'm going to have to admit something here. I'm not really an expert on artisanal food..."<br />
<br />
"Ya think!?" he snarked.<br />
<br />
"...so why don't I write some of this down and come back later when I'm better informed? Do you have any paper?"<br />
<br />
"Of course, sir," he said, leaning forward. "Will that be Woodfree Offset or Rag Pulp Bond?" <br />
<br />
<br />
<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps"> </span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps"><br /></span></span>
<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps"><br /></span></span>
<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps"><br /></span></span>
</div>
Jim D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/02937524015257942529noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11444919.post-25713187697893936502014-02-27T17:19:00.000-05:002014-03-07T16:37:24.707-05:00What's My App?When I heard that the mobile application WhatsApp had been acquired by Facebook for 19 billion dollars it occurred to me that maybe I should try to come up with an app <i>I </i>could sell to Facebook. I certainly didn't expect 19 billion dollars (after all this would be my first app) but 1 or 2 billion didn't seem out of the question.<br />
<div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<u><b>PART I: THE MAKINGS OF A DEVELOPER</b></u></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
The first thing I did was find out what I had in common with other app developers. I wanted to see if I had what it took to succeed in this field.<br />
<br />
Here are my findings: </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>1. It helps to have been born in Russia and then leave Russia and move to America.</i><br />
<br />
<b>My conclusion:</b> This could be problematical since I was born in Los Angeles, California, but - and this is critical - if I <i>had </i>been born in Russia I'm almost certain that I would have left Russia and moved to America the first chance I got. There is no way to know for sure, but I gave myself partial credit anyway.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>2. Having dropped out of an Ivy League school seems to be a bonus.</i><br />
<br />
<b>My conclusion:</b> I never attended an Ivy League school but if I <i>had </i>I know I would have seriously considered dropping out. Especially after the first report cards were issued. Again, I gave myself a partial credit on this one.<br />
<br />
<i>3. Almost universally the most successful app developers must allow their technological passions to overwhelm the need for any sexual gratification whatsoever.</i><br />
<br />
<b>My conclusion:</b> Maybe having every little thing in common with successful app developers is not all that important.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<u><b>PART II: THE MAKINGS OF AN APP</b></u></div>
<br />
Next, I checked out what the most successful apps actually do. It soon became clear that for an app to become a best seller it must have three things in common:<br />
<br />
<i>1. It must be a game;</i><br />
<i>2. It must make you more productive;</i><br />
<i>3. It must enable you to inform every person on the face of the Earth that you are being productive while playing a game.</i><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<u><b>PART III: THE MAKINGS OF AN IDENTITY</b></u></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
It is very important to have a good name for your app. Remember in high school when you and your friends were going to start a band and you spent the first month or so coming up with a good name? Same is true for an app. <br />
<br />
Facebook is a good example. It's like you are reading a book with your face on every page. Hey, I'm reading a book. Oh, look, there's my face. Book. Face. Facebook. Very nice.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<u><b>PART IV: THE MAKINGS OF A CONCLUSION</b></u> </div>
<br />
Keeping all this in mind I think I have come up with a winner.<br />
<br />
Keep your eyes peeled for the exciting new app called...<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Face Crush With Friends: </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Professional Edition.</div>
<br />
It will be releasing as soon as my Russian visa request and my application to Harvard are finalized.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Jim D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/02937524015257942529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11444919.post-46564858297164426852014-02-22T11:10:00.000-05:002014-03-15T10:52:02.456-04:00Taxman<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I had to switch tax preparers this year because my old preparer was just that - old. He chose to retire and move to a tropical clime rather than to continue sorting out my income and expenses as he has done for the past 30 years.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I asked around for a referral and Nelson, my nemesis, suggested someone in Queens that he uses. (Those of you unfamiliar with Nelson can find out more about him <a href="http://jdtimes.blogspot.com/2005/07/binoculars.html">here</a>.) </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"He'll get you all you deserve, and more!" enthused Nelson. This was not reassuring to someone who lists among his greatest fears "Going to jail for tax fraud". That fear appears on the list between "Getting food poisoning from drinking milk that is past it's sell-by date" and "Buying shoes that are a little too tight but letting the salesman convince you that they will stretch".</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">A few days later Nelson called and excitedly informed me that, "I got you all set up with my guy in Queens."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"Well, I wasn't really ready..." I began my excuse, but he cut me off.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"Not ready for tax time? Are you really willing to take that risk?"</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Nelson, of course, knows that I am as risk-averse as they come so in the end I agreed to see his "guy in Queens."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Two nights later ("He only works nights and weekends! How convenient is that?", Nelson had said) I found myself on a 7 train heading into the wilds of the Borough of Queens. <span class="st">Following Nelson's directions I got out at the 33rd Street station </span><span class="st">and headed south two blocks to Van Dam Street. From there I took a left and went one block where I found myself standing in front of the Queens Correctional Facility. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbBzk7yjdaim5ByFPzTgzU2HqLcXzCwfFQ166j0XWAq5VOIrya2RJUauMy_SyFH-oswLWaNCtnjUQ_-PbbGWSyK1XKpiTb8Thsn0uoQPMF2pSg5CoIDI9jmjRXk8SLdJh8Z_qYBA/s1600/Queens+Correctiional.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbBzk7yjdaim5ByFPzTgzU2HqLcXzCwfFQ166j0XWAq5VOIrya2RJUauMy_SyFH-oswLWaNCtnjUQ_-PbbGWSyK1XKpiTb8Thsn0uoQPMF2pSg5CoIDI9jmjRXk8SLdJh8Z_qYBA/s1600/Queens+Correctiional.jpg" height="222" width="400" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st">I reminded myself to pre-screen any directions I get from Nelson in the future.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st">I continued half a block farther to a narrow building which displayed the number I was looking for, along with a sign reading "Bail Bonds" in large Helvetica type. In the lower right hand corner someone had scrawled "Taxes". </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st">In the lower left hand corner, in the same handwriting, it said "Watch Batteries Changed".</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st">As I was turning to head back to the subway station when the heavy metal door opened and a large-headed man stuck his large head out and said "You from Nelson?"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st">I was about to deny the allegation, but I was never good at lying to large-headed men so I said, "Yes. Yes I am."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st">He looked both ways and, although the street was deserted, looked both ways again before opening the door a bit wider and saying "Get in".</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st">I squeezed through and waited for him to look both ways again before shutting the door. "Siddown," he said, gesturing toward a lime green plastic chair positioned before a large folding card table. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st">He sat across from me in a pink plastic chair, shuffled some papers which were sitting on the table, picked up a pencil that looked to be an inch and a half long, looked up at me, and said, "Income?"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st">For some reason I had a sudden memory of playing "Marco Polo" when I was a kid, so I replied "TAXES!" and smiled in that friendly way I have that never really works on large-headed men. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st">A look of recognition flashed through his eyes as he said "Oh, right, Nelson said you were a wit." When he said the word "wit" he wiggled the first two fingers of each hand in the air. "Yeah, I usually like to start with the income."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st">"Yes, sir," I said, resorting to the military patois I use when I get nervous. I opened the manila envelope I had brought and spread the papers on the table. "Income. Let's go."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st">"Let's start with cash income."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st">"Cash?" </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st">"Yeah. You know, the jobs you did for cash. Sales, deliveries, enforcement, that stuff."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st">I rummaged through my papers, although I knew I had no cash earnings for the tax year. Or any tax year, for that matter. I don't think I'd had any cash income since I stopped getting an allowance. Still, I felt that I had to make an effort to look.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st">"What do you know?" I said trying to sound surprised. "I don't appear to have any cash income this year. How about that?"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st">He rather forcefully crossed out three or four lines on a form he had started filling out and muttered, "No cash. No cash. No cash."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st">He looked up after a bit and asked, "Well, exactly what income do you have then?"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st">I handed him a couple of W2 forms. He looked at them for a moment like old friends he hadn't seen in a long time. "Ah," he said. "W2." He looked a little more closely. "This is your real name?"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st">"Well, yes."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st">He crossed out another line and wrote something down. "Real name," he said to himself, shaking his head. "Anything else?"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st">I timidly pushed over a couple of bank interest statements. He glanced at them, jotted something down on his form, crossed out a few more lines, and softly chuckled the words, "'Taxable' interest."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st">He sighed, turned his form over to what I deduced to be page 2 and asked, "Expenses?"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st">I paused for a moment, then again rummaged through my papers before saying, "</span><span class="st"><span class="st">What do you know..."</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st"><span class="st">"No expenses?" He had raised his voice and it looked as if his head had gotten even larger. "How can you have no expenses? Don't you go to church? What about sales tax? Fire damage? What about business expenses? Social club dues? Travel? Solar panels?"</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st"><span class="st">"Solar panels? I live in an apartment."</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st"><span class="st">"Solar panels are a gold mine."</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st"><span class="st">"Look, I just don't think I'm the type of taxpayer that you usually have for a client."</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st"><span class="st">"Tax<i>payer</i>? <i>None</i> of my clients pay taxes, friend. None."</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st"><span class="st">"Right," I said as I began to gather up my papers. "Maybe I should be on my way..."</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st"><span class="st">"Relax. Here." He scribbled for a minute and handed me a 1040 which was completely filled out with my W2 and interest income, no expenses, and a nominal refund. I looked it over and it actually appeared to be in order. </span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st"><span class="st">"Thanks. Shouldn't you sign it or something though?"</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st"><span class="st">"What? And use my real name?"</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="st"><span class="st">### </span> </span></span></span> </div>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">By the time I got home it was pretty late so to comfort myself I had two excellent homemade cookies and a glass of milk and felt very satisfied with myself.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Then I noticed that the sell-by date on the milk carton was two days old. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>Jim D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/02937524015257942529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11444919.post-46566601779619526652014-02-15T13:31:00.002-05:002014-03-11T12:02:25.173-04:00Vocabalary<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /><iframe frameborder="0" height="495" scrolling="no" src="//embed.gettyimages.com/embed/477670181?et=HgSc5AivO0WCxTb8v8gq-g&sig=_rRefmoIdQZQ-5KGI4aof0BcFkCMHnClU-ACS-_lFik=" width="402"></iframe>
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
After reviewing some of my recent posts I noted that my vocabulary had become somewhat limited. I read somewhere that most people only use about 100 words on a regular basis and I feared that I had become one of those people. I had to admit to myself that I was in danger of being, oh what's the word, you know kind of like dull but more like "not shiny"?<br />
<br />
Never-mind, I'll think of it.
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
To help myself out I downloaded an app on my phone that sends me a new word everyday so I can punch things up.<br />
<br />
Ha, I used the word "punch" just now. I haven't used that word in ages, so I think it's benefiting me already.</div>
<br />
After a few days collecting new words, I had to go to the drug store to pick up some cold medicine. My pharmacist, Dr. Connors, is a little bit imperious (Ha! Another one!) so I was looking forward to impressing him with my new lexicon (Bam!). <br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I approached him and boldly said, "Salutations, Dr. Connors. I have<b> </b>gonorrhea in my olfactory organ."</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He looked doubtful. "You have a sexually transmitted disease in your nose?"<br />
<br />
I paused a moment while I quickly checked my phone. "I mean rhinorrhea. Yes, that's it. rhinorrhea in my olfactory organ"<br />
<br />
"So you have a runny nose in your, uh, nose?" </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
"Precisely. And," I checked my phone again, "aqueous oculus...oculuses...oculinsky...?" The word of the day did not seem to cover latinate pluralities.<br />
<br />
"Watery eyes?"<br />
<br />
"Perchance," I taunted. I lowered my voice. "I think it might be the albumen."<br />
<br />
"The egg white?" he skepticated.<br />
<br />
"Yes. NO. Uh, maybe?" I said capriciously.<br />
<br />
"So you have a runny nose and egg whites in your watery eyes?" He was looking - I mean oculating - at me oddly, that is, leeringly, no, that's not it, warily.<br />
<br />
Yes, warily.<br />
<br />
"Well, yes, that's what I speculated," was my retorted. "Except for the egg whites. I'll just need some cold medicine for now."<br />
<br />
"You mean nasopharyngitis serum?"</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I paused a moment and resisted the urge to check my phone again.<br />
<br />
"That's one way of putting it," I conceded.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
###</div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Wait, oh yeah, lackluster. That's the word I was looking for.<br />
<br />
Thank the Deity I won't experience worriment about that any longer. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
Jim D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/02937524015257942529noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11444919.post-21694061323283051692014-02-08T15:26:00.000-05:002014-03-08T16:49:19.494-05:00The Talking Car<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAqJLcDT4FuV531EbVVI-y5NIelNvphEYDaLeA3iIiww5PsIf-DUStcroA8FPg4XcuXsr18kSylGC5C9J29dEqJjIFWSwkxLfw13CXnJkzgTaBC6HwvQ5bJ7cPTF5eZWQEWP6pEA/s1600/Talking+Car.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAqJLcDT4FuV531EbVVI-y5NIelNvphEYDaLeA3iIiww5PsIf-DUStcroA8FPg4XcuXsr18kSylGC5C9J29dEqJjIFWSwkxLfw13CXnJkzgTaBC6HwvQ5bJ7cPTF5eZWQEWP6pEA/s1600/Talking+Car.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I live in New York City and do not own a car. Still, since I spent a number of formative years in Southern California, I have a certain affinity for the automobile and am always interested in any advancements in automotive technology. <br />
<br />
Recently I took two buses, a subway and a taxi cab to the West Side where Manhattan car dealers are located. I wanted to test drive one of the new cars with the talking feature that gives you audio advice while you are driving.<br />
<br />
I was a little concerned when the salesman insisted that he didn't need to come along with me for the test drive. "I've had just about all I can take," he said, but then caught himself. "It will be a much more, um, satisfying experience if you are on your own."<br />
<br />
When I started the car I heard a friendly female voice say, "Be sure your parking brake is disengaged before shifting into Drive." Very helpful, I thought. "Look both ways before merging into traffic." Okay, a bit intrusive but still, Safety First.<br />
<br />
As I pulled onto the highway I thought I'd try out the sound system so I turned on the radio. A rather syrupy love song came on so I switched to an Oldies station I like. A few seconds later I heard the friendly female voice say, "Hey, I was listening to that."<br />
<br />
"What?"<br />
<br />
"I was listening to that."<br />
<br />
"I, er, uh, Is, is this the car?" I asked.<br />
<br />
"Remember to check your rear and side view mirrors frequently. So you just change the station without asking?"<br />
<br />
"Sorry," I grumbled. "I guess I didn't realize..." <br />
<br />
"You are slowing down to a speed that is unsafe given the current flow of traffic."<br />
<br />
I stepped on the gas to speed up. Perhaps I stepped a bit too abruptly.<br />
<br />
"Why do you make it jerk like that!!!???"<br />
<br />
"I was just accelerating."<br />
<br />
"Well, you didn't have to hit the gas like that."<br />
<br />
"That's how you accelerate! You hit the gas..."<br />
<br />
The next part was somewhat muffled, but I believe I heard the words "Lead foot."<br />
<br />
"I'm driving perfectly fine," I clenched. "Besides..."<br />
<br />
"Remember to check your rear and side view mirrors frequently."<br />
<br />
"I <i>am </i>checking..."<br />
<br />
"Keep your eyes on the road ahead."<br />
<br />
"How can I keep my eyes on the road ahead when I'm CHECKING MY GODDAM MIRRORS ALL THE TIME!!!"<br />
<br />
"Road Rage Detector activated."<br />
<br />
"ROAD RAGE DETECTOR?!!! FOR CRYING OUT LOUD..."<br />
<br />
"Road Rage detected."<br />
<br />
"Wait..."<br />
<br />
"Central Authority notified."<br />
<br />
Central Authority? That sounded ominous. I concluded that it might be time to resort to reason.<br />
<br />
"Look, I'm sorry I lost my temper..."<br />
<br />
"This is Central Authority," a gruff male voice had replaced her. "Traffic enforcement."<br />
<br />
"Oh, hello Mister...Authority," I said, trying to sound calm, respectful, and unragelike. "I was just out for a test drive and I think the voice thingy malfunctioned."<br />
<br />
"Oh, the voice thingy. Don't worry about that. Happens all the time. Now, do you need any help?"<br />
<br />
<br />
"Actually, I'm not quite sure where I am. Can you guide me back to the dealer?"<br />
<br />
"Sure. Just take a left here."<br />
<br />
The Oldies station was still playing on the radio so I leaned over and turned it off.<br />
<br />
"Hey," said Central Authority, "I was listening to that."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thebusybrain/2523716919/">TheBusyBrain</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com/">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/">cc</a>Jim D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/02937524015257942529noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11444919.post-26277805338002993482014-02-04T10:51:00.000-05:002014-02-04T10:55:42.222-05:00Common QuestionI was in my neighborhood used book store, looking through a bin of CDs labeled "Musical Oddities", when I came across something called "<i>Common Question: a Country Music Salute to the LGBTQ Community</i>." Intrigued, I invested the $2.99 and eagerly took the disc home.<br />
<br />
Among several interesting cuts was a Lady Gaga composition performed by Billy Ray Joe, an older Country star who, I believe, was trying to make a comeback after several decades in rehab. Some of you may remember Billy Ray's signature hits "More Whiskey, Jesus" and "Get The Hell Out Of My Way" from several years ago. <br />
<br />
In any case, I found the number quite compelling. Due to copyright restrictions, I can't play the entire song here, but I can provide this clip which, I think, gives an idea of the <i>motif</i> he was going for.<br />
<br />
Click on the play button to hear the song.<br />
<br />
<embed autoplay="false" height="14" loop="false" src="https://sites.google.com/site/jdtimes/GG.mp3" style="height: 14px; width: 300px;" type="audio/mpeg" width="300"></embed><br />
<br />
<br />
© All rights reserved
Jim D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/02937524015257942529noreply@blogger.com1