All posts by Dale Connelly

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The World of the End

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Oh my, what to say about the predicted end of the world?

There is an apocalyptic mindset that is satisfying in a weird way. Things become simple when you know for sure nothing will matter after today.

It is easy to mock people who make such claims on religious grounds, but even science confirms that the world will, in fact, end someday. Just like comedy, the essence of the thing is in the timing. Is this the day? Tomorrow? All we know for certain is that it wasn’t yesterday.

It could turn out that the promoters of armageddon TODAY will get lucky and their (and everyone’s) number will come up. It will appear to the rest of us that they had it right all along, but their “I told you so” time will last for about 20 seconds, I guess. Is there any pleasure in that?

In some cases, even relatives of the doomsayers are laying on the ridicule. The New York Times profiles a family where the parents have bought into the apocalyptic scenario and their children are left shaking their heads. The kids come off as being remarkably well adjusted to the bizarre dynamic inside their own family.

Tomorrow will likely be a difficult day for those who predicted their own heavenward ascension in the “rapture”. Some folks even stopped paying the rent and quit saving for the kids’ college fund. Oops. Super embarrassing moment if we’re all still here on Monday! The lesson I’m taking from this – at a time when it seams like zealots have their heels dug in at the capitol and political positions are unmovable, it is still possible to get a human being to believe something so amazing and irrational, it changes their behavior.

A story is a powerful lever.

But why would anyone choose to accept this prophesy? Skeeter Davis said it best – sometimes we’re so mixed up emotionally, it FEELS like the world is ending, or that it SHOULD end.

I wonder of today’s frenzy has helped boost Skeeter’s You Tube views? She’s well over one million, and no doubt there will be many more today as people all around the globe search for the first video evidence of The End Of The World and wind up listening to this song.

The good news for those who were alive in 1963 – we managed to survive Skeeter’s hairdo. That gives me hope that we can withstand anything!

The world ends in ten minutes. What do you do?

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Ask Dr. Babooner

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Dear Dr. Babooner,

I work with a group of astronomers who comb deep space for evidence of planets that are not part of any solar system. I work a lot. Since I’m the only unmarried member of the team it’s assumed I can stay late every night and through weekends!

Here’s the good part – we’ve been finding a lot of planets lately and our research has made the news, which is good for our morale. But when I read these articles I feel uneasy about some of the things my colleagues say.

They’ve taken to calling these unaffiliated bodies “Lonely Planets”, simply because they are not orbiting a star. Planets don’t have feelings, so why would a scientist talk this way? I understand that it’s important to describe scientific research in terms that are accessible to laypersons, but why must we assume being unattached is the same thing as being lonely?

Even if planets DID have feelings, couldn’t it be that some of these planets are satisfied with their status? One of these planets might even be glad he isn’t in the thrall of some stupid shiny star, especially if that star is always so far away and out of reach that the planet doesn’t get any warmth from her at all. The close-in planets, the ones that push to the front, think she’s so HOT. Fine. Let them all snuggle close and act like she’s the center of their universe if that’s what they want to do. It’s not that great, you know, orbiting and orbiting and orbiting. Anyway, the closer you are, the faster the run-around you get. And it never stops.

I’d prefer to think of the so-called “Lonely Planets” as Free Planets! Free to go from place to place around the universe, visiting different galaxies if they want. Free Planets are independent spirits, not easy to corral, and they don’t need to have a star to orbit just because some other planets do.

But if a star came along, especially if she was very bright and wanted to have only one planet and not a whole string of them stretched out over millions and millions of miles – well, that kind of orbital relationship might be worth the risk of allowing yourself to be captured by a little gravity.

Dr. Babooner, how do I tactfully indicate to my colleagues that I disagree with the term “Lonely Planet” without seeming like a geek who is hopelessly fixated on his own social status? My objections are purely scientific, and to be seen as emotional on this matter would be humiliating.

Sincerely,
Gas Giant

I told Gas Giant he should not use terminology that makes him uncomfortable, and since “Lonely Planet” isn’t a scientific name, he should feel no guilt about refusing to say it. Furthermore, he should pick a name he likes and start using that exclusively to refer to these “Lonely Planets”, and perhaps as he gains credibility his name choice will too. But it would help if the new name had some appeal for those who have accepted “Lonely Planet”, so I proposed that he call them “Orbisons”, after Roy Orbison, who sang “Only the Lonely.”

But that’s just one opinion. What do YOU think, Dr. Babooner?

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Will You Take Fifty Cents For It?

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It’s garage sale day today, tomorrow and Saturday.

Geez, we’ve just hauled enough stuff out of the basement to fill two houses. It’s the Clown Car Scenario – there’s no way they could all fit in the back seat and yet clowns keep popping out. That’s how I feel about board games. Did we really play all those?

We’re rich in cheap plastic toys, obsolete software, computer printers, yo-yo’s, kites, puzzles and electronic gadgets where one feature (cassette player, CD, radio) inexplicably stopped working. Do people really repair these things, or are they only useful as doorstops that happen to have a digital time readout?

Something happens to stuff once you have decided to retire it but not throw it away – you put it in an out-of-the-way place and it becomes invisible, like the dark matter that dominates the universe. An astronomer named Fritz Zwicky coined the term “dark matter” in the 1930’s to describe all the stuff that his mathematical models told him must be holding things together, even though we can’t see it.

I could be wrong, but I think Fritzwicky is the name of one of those board games I just dragged up the stairs.

We’ll open the doors this morning with about 1% of the debris priced. I wonder if I would have bought any of this stuff if it had come with a Truth In Consumption label – the retail price ($49.99) with the expected garage sale price ($3) right next to it. Of course there is no Truth In Consumption label requirement. That’s just another job killing socialist idea of mine – something I wish had been in place to protect me from my own impulsive decision making and grandiose ideas about what I was going to do.

So goodbye (with luck) to the Hilton of rat cages, the lovely canvas sling chairs we rarely sat in, the plastic pig that I was going to modify so it would light up, the tennis and racquetball rackets I stopped using, the power washer that I bought to do a difficult job that I eventually hired someone else to do with his own equipment, and so on and so on.

Time to face the deep, deep discount music.

Have you got a memorable garage sale experience?

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Blowing Smoke on the Water

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Another mailing has arrived from the office of Congressman Loomis Beechly of Minnesota’s 9th District – all the water surface area in the state. I’m not sure what he’s talking about here – it may be just a bit of morning haze. Sometimes an elected official needs to connect with his public, or a public that might someday become his!

Beechly at his "State of the Dock" address.

Greetings Constituents and Guests!

My sincere apologies to any fishing opener attendees who resent the way that bitter mid-May gale blew you around the beautiful 9th district last weekend. While you’re still getting over the chill, please allow me to extend the hand of welcome!

It was wonderful to have you in our territory, and I hope you come back soon! We 9th districters love the summer months when the population swells. And we also love the late fall, when everyone finally goes home. Nothing personal. You know how it is when you’ve got guests. So few people live on the water year-round.

Because the human population is so low, some people overlook the 9th district completely, but to me it is very real. I consider every thing that lives in the district to be one of my constituents – not just the voters. So every time you pull a walleye out of a Minnesota lake, it feels like a bit of a loss to me. But I saw that Lion King movie like everybody else. Circle of Life, you know.

Some have asked me if redistricting might possibly be done in a way that puts their on-land homes in the 9th district. As you know, redistricting is a total crapshoot, and literally anything could happen. We’re a little bit protected from gerrymandering because water surface area is an important part of our identity here, but there have been instances where a water main break has caused some people’s basements to be in the 9th district temporarily. If something like this should happen to you on election day, I hope you’ll come downstairs and vote for me!

The boundaries of the 9th are constantly being re-drawn by nature anyway. When it rains a lot, the district gets larger. In a drought, the opposite happens. Some small dams on Minnesota rivers are being removed – that shrinks the district too. But then some wetlands are being restored – that creates new areas.

One of our biggest growth spots for the 9th district is in drainage ponds around suburban shopping malls. A single thunderstorm in Maple Grove can make my district larger for two days! And I’m delighted to have more metro area constituents, even if most of them are ducks and geese. In support of these potential votes, I’m working hard to fight expansion of unfair municipal rules about pooping in the park.

With all the housing foreclosures in the Twin Cities, I’m thinking some enterprising people might move to vessels anchored in these drainage ponds. It would be great to have more year-round residents and some stability in our head count, but beware the financing issues. You don’t want to have an upside down mortgage in a houseboat!

If it should happen, please contact my office. We’re here to serve you!

Sincerely,

Congressman Loomis Beechly
Minnesota’s 9th District.

What would it be like to live on a boat?

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A Splash of Color

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While riding my bike yesterday morning on the way to retrieve a car that has been in storage all winter, I was stopped short by a splash of color on a corner lot.

A friendly fellow named Pete was out tending his tulips. He told me in lightly accented English that he was from the Netherlands, and that gardening is something he does as a gift to share with the community, including lucky passers-by like me.

He was examining the beds. Some late-blooming tulips were mixed in with a few of the earlies, which is not a fatal flaw, but it means with a little bit of shuffling bulbs around, things could work better next year. Pete likes everything to be timed properly, just like the producer of a fireworks show wants to create amazing crescendos.

Also, once the petals fall, it’s tough to remember exactly which color is planted where, so it’s smart to take notes and make adjustments.

He showed me his map of the layout. I admire anyone who is a careful planner.

I felt lucky to have the chance to stop for a look at Pete’s garden – now that I’ve got the car back I’m much less likely to happen down a random street. In this case, a random street with an appropriate name – NE Summer St.

The calendar says we’re deep into Spring. Where have you seen the proof?

Poems

One That Got Away

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It was a blustery fishing opener again this year, but at least Minnesota’s Democratic Governor (Mark Dayton) and the Republican leaders of the House (Kurt Zellers) and Senate (Matt Dean) got together to support the state’s tourism effort by going out just after midnight to not catch any fish.

I haven’t seen any reports that put the three alone in the same small boat, though that would be an ideal situation to promote a settlement of the state’s 5 billion dollar budget shortfall. Or it could start an all out war. It would make a great scene in a movie, anyway.

The whole idea of three in a boat reminded me of the classic children’s poem by Edward Field, Wynken, Blynken and Nod. Offered here with sincere apologies to the author and everyone else. (Including Eugene Field, the real author of the original poem – Thanks for the correction, Verrily Sherrilee)

Dayton, Zellers and Dean one night
sailed off on a big pontoon –
Sailed on a lake in a mid may gale
By the light of a northern moon.
“Where are you going, and what do you wish?”
The old moon asked the three.
“We have come to fish and to accomplish
what they said could never be.
At least not under Pawlenty!”
Said Dayton,
Zellers
And Dean.

The old moon laughed and winked an eye
as they rocked on the frothy lake,
And the wind picked up as the three did try
to do some give and take.
The little stars, worth a billion each
they sparkled the whole night through.
But never enough could just one reach,
without the other two.
So cried the stars to the fishermen three:
Dayton,
Zellers
And Dean.

One said “taxes,” two said “cuts!”
To the stars as the waves did rise.
They barked and they howled, as would three old mutts
Avoiding compromise;
‘Twas such a predictable path they sailed
To get come round to where they’d be
At the very same spot from whence they’d sailed
Way back in January —
And I shall name you the fishermen three:
Dayton
Zellers
And Dean.

There’s a fourth verse which I didn’t have time to attempt, so you’re welcome to give it a try. Or tell us about your favorite childhood poem.

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A Matter of Perspective

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‘Tis the stormy season here in the upper midwest. There will be thunder and lightning!
That’s OK! I enjoy a rattling good storm if:

1) I don’t have to go out in it, and
2) It doesn’t include a tornado.

Lightning is particularly fun to watch if you’re not on a sailboat, in the pool, or out on the golf course holding a five iron over your head. The jagged, unpredictable bolts make for a great show, especially if the action is at a distance. A lot of the drama is in the setting – we’re down here on the ground and all this unruly commotion is happening over our heads. We’re weak and helpless.

I’ve sometimes wondered if lightning is as impressive when observed from above. Well, just yesterday NASA distributed this photo taken three months ago from the International Space Station by Paolo Nespoli of the European Space Agency.
It shows a storm in progress over Brazil.

Good news, the bolts are going down!

I confess I would feel smug looking down on a thunderstorm from space. Finally – nothing to fear! Up above, I have the strategic advantage. Yes, I’ve got nothing but a metal bulkhead and some insulation to protect me from lethal cosmic rays and the frozen airless vacuum of space would make my blood boil if I were suddenly thrown into it and OK, perhaps the Klingons or the Borg are really out here, and what if our on-board computer stages a mutiny? But at least I don’t have to think about being hit by lightning!

Unless it looked more like this:

Bad news! Fingers reaching up!

This can’t be good.
I suspect once humans get comfortable in outer space, the scariest stuff in the universe will still be those crazy things that might come after us from planets.

When has a change in perspective made all the difference?

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Ask Dr. Babooner

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Dear Dr. Babooner,

I recently read an article in the NY Times about some family elders who are resisting the baggage-heavy names “Grandma” and “Grandpa”, urging the offspring of their offspring to use happy, hip, young sounding names instead – names like Beebo, DooDad and GlamMa.

Until I saw this I had not seriously considered what I might want potential grandchildren to call me. “Grandma” does sound impossibly old and I refuse to see myself that way, but I’m also quite serious about my dignity so answering to cries of “GoomBah” or “TweeBop” is something that makes me cringe.

And yet it would feel sad to have a grandchild call me by my actual name, which I reserve for use by my cadre of friends. And frankly, I don’t like some of my friends very much, so I’d want any freshly minted family members to use something more, well … familiar.

So where does that leave me, Dr. Babooner? I want to be thought of with love and respect and as a person who is fun and not too stuffy, but also as someone to be reckoned with, and obeyed! Is that too much to ask?

Sincerely,
Not Intending To Wear Insulting Titles

I told NITWIT she should be happy if she winds up with Grandchildren, and if she does she will discover that she has very little control over what they actually call her.

That said, any potential grandchildren of hers will likely be raised in the modern commercial environment, where branding is essential in just about every line of work.

I suggested she take a hint from the major corporations that are coining new titles with unusual spellings to make liberal use of previously unfashionable consonants like X, Z and Q. What about Z-Mom? GrandQ? Xmater?

But once you choose to take such a path, you’ll have to allocate time and money to support your brand and make sure it gains a substantial foothold in the marketplace of (grandchild) ideas. In other words, be ready to give them toys and candy for using your new name properly. You might also want to think about creating a logo, and then make certain you get that logo onto a mobile that hangs above the crib.

It’s never too early to start!

But that’s just one opinion. What do YOU think, Dr. Babooner?

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Meant to Say That

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It’s Yogi Berra’s birthday today. He’s 86.

Berra is equally famous for his baseball career and his odd quotes. There are six books available on Amazon that feature stories he has told and the strange truth of his serpentine comments.

Among the best known:

“It ain’t over ‘til it’s over”

“Always go to other people’s funerals, otherwise they won’t come to yours.”

“He hits from both sides of the plate. He’s amphibious.”

“If people don’t want to come out to the ball park, nobody’s gonna stop ’em.”

Numerous websites collect his sayings. One article claimed that Yogi is “the most quoted living American.”

Who knows if he actually said all the things he’s supposed to have said? Once you get a reputation for malapropisms, I suppose people begin to assign them to you. And what about the pressure? It creates a certain expectation. How many interviewers have come away from their Q & A slightly disappointed that Yogi didn’t grace them with a memorable word crash?

I would never suggest that Yogi’s sayings aren’t completely genuine – only that there must be a great temptation to give the people what they came for, even if it means hiring a writer. Not than anyone in America today would hire a writer!

Yogi is real, of course, but the character who mangles language is a literary staple. Two of the oldest and best loved come from the field of playwriting, where it’s extraordinarily difficult these days to coin a phrase that will stick as a cultural reference.

To find the earliest examples, you have to go all the way back to 1598 and the character Dogberry in Shakespeare’s “Much Ado About Nothing” …

Don Pedro: Officers, what offence have these men done?

Dogberry: Marry, sir, they have committed false report; moreover they have spoken untruths; secondarily, they are slanders; sixth and lastly, they have belied a lady; thirdly, they have verified unjust things; and, to conclude, they are lying knaves.

And then there’s the mother of the term “Malapropism” – Mrs. Malaprop from Richard Brinsley Sheridan’s play, “The Rivals”.

Mrs. MALAPROP: There, sir, an attack upon my language! what do you think of that?—an aspersion upon my parts of speech! was ever such a brute! Sure, if I reprehend any thing in this world, it is the use of my oracular tongue, and a nice derangement of epitaphs!

Tracking Berra-like sayings is one of the most enjoyable pursuits of English speakers. George W. Bush did great things in the field of presidential misstatement. This is one area where I’m ready to admit that the current office holder is letting us down.

Got a favorite mangled saying or malapropism?

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Hail’s Scales

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Some unfortunate Minnesotans had their homes and cars (and heads!) damaged by hail Tuesday evening. Bummer. I hope all repairs and recovery go smoothly.

Most of the weather reports I heard last night kept to the standard American sports scale of measurement – marble sized to golf ball to baseball to softball. That’s assuming you consider marbles a sport.

But I wonder – is that our entire athletico-spherical vocabulary? What about handballs? Raquetballs? I’ve never heard a weather forecaster try to parse relative hardness of hail, though it does vary. If your job is to encourage people to take cover, you would naturally go with the most impressive choice and baseballs and billiard balls are more motivational than tennis balls.

A lacrosse ball is smaller around (7.5 inches) than a baseball (9 inches), could offer a useful distinction, but you never hear meteorologists talk about “lacrosse ball sized hail’. I assume In England and India a handy frame of reference would be “Hail the size of cricket balls.” Try that over here and people would be confused. Cricket balls? Aren’t they very, very tiny?

Not everyone follows sports, so sometimes we use the vegetable scale, starting with pea sized hail and going to … well, that’s about it. I guess we’re just not a vegetable-loving people. Has anyone ever reported brussel sprout sized hail? Hail as large as neatly trimmed radishes? And what about the rest of the grocery store? Hail the size of eggs? Lemons? There’s a report on this page of hail as big as walnuts. Has any spot on Earth ever received Personal Watermelon sized hail, and if so, did anyone live to tell about it?

Not that all hail is perfectly round. In fact, it can be flattened and oblong, but I’m still waiting to hear about a storm that dropped “hail the size of Vienna Fingers” or “cell phone sized hail”.

Then there’s the monetary scale. Dime, penny, nickel, quarter and even half dollar sized hail have been noted, but why stop there? What about “hail as destructive as bundled sub-prime mortgages”? I would run from “Bernie Madoff hail”, and cower at a report that claimed: “hail just swept through Eden Prairie like a mammoth Ponzi scheme, leaving no one untouched.”

What’s the biggest hail you’ve seen? And how would you standardize the measurment?