Category Archives: Uncategorized

Fire or Ice?

Today’s post comes from Bathtub Safety Officer Rafferty.


At ease, civilians!

But when I say ‘at ease’ of course I mean you should remain extremely watchful. A healthy amount of trepidation is better for you than multivitamins, as we just discovered, though that’s mostly because everything is better for you than multivitamins.

And do not worry that you will ever run out of things to fear because there is always another catastrophe looming on the horizon.

Case in point: I have spent many hours worrying that a major asteroid will crash into our planet, causing an enormous explosion that will eject massive amounts of dirt and gas into the atmosphere, obliterating the sun and making life as we know it unsustainable.

But last week I discovered that maybe I should be looking down instead.

Yellowstone_caldera

New research suggests the supervolcano under Yellowstone National Park is much bigger than previously thought.. Now they’re saying it could be 55 miles across, which makes it big enough to cause an enormous explosion that will eject massive amounts of dirt and gas into the atmosphere, obliterating the sun and making life as we know it unsustainable.

Of course scientists say they are monitoring Yellowstone closely and there is no indication that it is in any way about to blow. Should changes occur that suggest an eruption is at hand, we would have time to prepare.

Somehow I’m not comforted.

And what if an asteroid crashed into the Yellowstone caldera? Wouldn’t that set it off immediately? This is the sort of thing that keeps me awake on long winter nights, which is, by the way, the season we’re in. It is a time of despair, which suits me just fine. I may be the only person who has seasonal affective disorder all year round. Stepping outside, I pause to wonder if the prevailing northwest wind will freeze us in our tracks before we can be incinerated by speeding rocks from above or molten rock from below.

It reminds me of my favorite poem about armaggeddon, Fire and Ice by Robert Frost.

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

Yours in Safety, B.S.O.R.

Bathtub Safety Officer Rafferty is at his usual life-of-the-party best here. He suggested this post should run on Christmas Day because it might give families a chance to talk about their Volcano Evasion Plan over dinner, but I hinted to him it was a bit of a downer and we might go with it a day or so early. He said the prospect of things happening before he expects them to is another scenario that keeps him up at night.

Fire or Ice – what’s your preference?

Fido, Speak!

Today’s post comes from the dealmaker and marketing genius Spin Williams, who is always in residence at The Meeting That Never Ends.

We’re always on the lookout for sparkling new ideas that have great potential but seem so ridiculous at first blush that most venture capital firms decline to get involved as a matter of image preservation – they simply don’t want to look silly.

No_more_woof

Well at the Meeting That Never Ends, we don’t have that problem. We know that the people who make BIG money must be willing to appear foolish sometimes – and maybe all the time. That’s why we love this Scandinavian dog communication project, called No More Woof.

Not only is it a creative and technologically feasible idea – it’s totally charming and completely fund-able. And if you don’t believe me, watch the video. It’s worth it just to hear the beguiling way those Swedes say the name of the product. If only my dog barked like that!

We think this product has great potential, especially since making the connection between your dog’s thought patterns as measured by the EEG and actual sentences using words and complete ideas is an act of translation that is wide open to artistic license, and what’s more, commercial influence!

For instance, we all know that when friends come to visit you at your home, Fido will greet them with excitement and his thought patterns would likely translate into something like “Do you have anything to eat?” and “I’d like to sniff your butt!”

But who could prove that he didn’t also want to say “Forty Per Cent off selected Lady’s Shoes this weekend at Famous Footwear” or “Degree™ antiperspirant and deodorant is engineered for superior long-lasting protection!”

It’s possible, especially if Famous Footwear and Degree Antiperspirant decide to sponsor some time on your dog’s Stream of Consciousness. After all, who could resist a product when it’s pitched by your best friend?

Mark my words – Ad Mutts will someday completely take the place of TV. Recognizing that obvious truth before everyone else does is the thing that separates great entrepreneurs like me from always penniless consumers like, well … you!

That’s a free glimpse of your future. Don’t say I didn’t tell you so!

Your farsighted friend, Spin

Spin may have a point here, though it’s a horrifying one. But corporations would likely demand some kind of advertising override feature so Fido isn’t yammering on about getting low insurance rates through Geico while he’s shredding your new down pillows and chewing up your iPhone.

And although the name of the product is charming, what if it turns out that the word your dog is REALLY thinking of happens to be … “Woof”?

Given the power of speech, what would your pet talk about?

Illegal Use of Hands

Today’s post comes from Congressman Loomis Beechly, representing all water surface area in the state of Minnesota.

Beechly Ice shark copy

Greetings Constituents,

I am alarmed to see the tussle that has emerged from President Obama’s brief handshake with Cuban strongman Raul Castro. How our president could be so careless is beyond a mystery to me. I have been in politics for a relatively short while but I learned early on that it is very bad policy to shake hands with people.

That’s why I don’t do it! Not only is it unsanitary, it’s bad politics.

Those of you who have met me at campaign rallies know that I’m a back slapper. I will enthusiastically slap the back of anyone who is willing to stand near me, but I won’t hug you or leave my arm lying across your shoulders and I won’t shake hands because I could pick up germs or worse, political cooties!

Here’s the honest truth – when I’m introduced to people, I have no idea who they are or what they have done. Or what they WILL do. Unfortunately, a photograph of me with any person found later to have committed a heinous act could spell the end of my political career. And if that happens, we ALL lose!

So in self defense, I will slap you on your back. Why? Because in the moment it feels chummy, but in photographs it looks like I could be pushing you away. If it turns out later that you abuse kittens or run a meth lab, that’s the spin I’ll put on our encounter. I say this to be completely transparent and honest with you. While some constituents have complained about this habit of mine, most who have heard the explanation come to understand it is simply good common sense.

And it works both ways – as protection for you, too! I don’t have to tell you Congress is highly unpopular right now. And you never know what I’ll do! But I think we can all agree, I’m probably smarter than the president! On this issue, anyway.

So look for me in the district this winter. I won’t make you take your gloves off to greet me – it’s far too cold for that. We’ll just share a mutual pounding between the shoulder blades. It’s just one of the many ways I continue to look out for your interests, and mine.

Your Congressman,
Loomis Beechly

I told Congressman Beechly there’s another good reason not to shake hands at 9th district political events – so many of the participants have just had their fingers in a cup of worms! Of course whenever I think of handshakes, this song comes to mind!

Are you a glad hander or a back slapper?

Ask Dr. Babooner

We are ALL Dr. Babooner
We are ALL Dr. Babooner

Dear Dr. Babooner,

I was traveling over the Thanksgiving holiday and found myself in the San Francisco airport suffering from an undue amount of stress because I had just been told by an unsympathetic gate agent that my baggage was headed to Cincinnati while I was returning home to Minnesota.

I have spent all my life suppressing feelings of rage and I was in the process of quashing these latest destructive urges as well when all of a sudden I found myself on the edge of a hysterical screaming fit. It was as if every bit of frustration I had  experienced for any reason at any time was going to come pouring out of me in the form of an extremely dramatic tantrum.

Just then, a volunteer approached with a dog that was wearing a “Pet Me” vest. I fell to my knees and hugged the animal as the savior that he was while his handler explained that several dogs had been dispatched throughout the airport as a stress-relief measure.

She explained that this particular dog, whose name was ‘Toby’, was exceptionally good-natured. “Toby has never done anything inappropriate,” she said. “He is a model canine citizen.”  She noted that Toby had already pulled several distressed travelers back from the brink of madness that very day.

As I petted Toby I felt years of built-up rage leave my body – not just the anger that had erupted over my lost baggage but anger tied to the emotional baggage I had started collecting the day I was born. I was elated to sense these poisonous feelings were leaving my body, but at the same time I noticed that Toby’s eyes got wide and his muscles tensed up.  The more I embraced him, the more relaxed I became and the more agitated he seemed.   

I told the volunteer how very grateful I was for the relief Toby had provided. As I watched them walk down the concourse, I watched Toby’s gait stiffen a bit, and when they were right in front of a crowded TCBY I was horrified to see Toby pause, glance over his shoulder at me, wink, and poop.

Now I’m concerned that I have poisoned Toby with my years of accumulated stress and may have turned him from a “model canine citizen” into a very naughty dog.

I’d like to find Toby again and take back some of my offloaded negativity so he can live a happy life. But I don’t know what sort of human-canine interaction would allow stress to flow the other way. Do you?

Sincerely,
Dogwrecker

I told D.W. I”m not aware of any way you can recover stress from a dog once petting that dog has removed it from you.   Canines are notorious for being possessive, so don’t even try.  As for the ‘evidence’ that  Toby’s emotional equilibrium was upset by D.W.’s rage transfer, a little bit of awkwardly placed poop is a small thing in the universe of potential dog mischief.  For me, the real question raised by this story is this:  How do you teach a dog to wink?

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

The Way The Wind Blows

Today’s post comes from 9th District Congressman Loomis Beechly, representing all the water surface area in the State of Minnesota.

Pandering to Paddlers.
Pandering to Paddlers.

Greetings, Constituents!

The first I want you to know about me is that I’m on your side – and that’s true no matter which side your side might be. I will always support the closely held opinions of We The People. And when I’m talking directly to you, I support the notions of You The Person.

Some hyper-critical pundits complain that this makes me inconsistent on the issues. Like that’s a bad thing. If I’m hard to pin down it’s because I’m consistently in favor of you, and you’re only human. But I want you to know you can rely on me anyway.

That’s why I’m not so sure we should celebrate the birthday today of famed opinion pollster George Gallup. Gallup was a decent enough fellow, I suppose, who thought prevailing public attitudes should be taken seriously in a democracy.

That’s good, I guess. But Gallup wanted to do scientific surveys to tabulate the opinions of large groups of people all at once, and I just want to deal with the notions of the person I’m talking to at the moment. That’s the way politics should be conducted, in my opinion – face to face. Whatever ridiculous thing you say, I’ll agree for as long as we’re together, no matter how pudding-headed it is.

When I go on to the next person, well, that’s a different matter.

So all this data telling us what vast numbers of people believe at any particular time is useless to me. Pollsters claim to be neutral, and nothing frustrates me more than neutrality, unless it’s fairness! The sad truth is, people’s responses can be guided by the way questions are asked, and outcomes can be determined by the selection of answers they’re allowed to give. You may think otherwise but we’re not standing next to each other right now, so I can afford to not pay any attention at all to what you think.

If I had my way, all public opinion polling would be illegal.

And so would fact-checking.

Your Congressman,
Loomis Beechly

Coma Bear

Today’s post comes from Bart, the bear who found a smartphone in the woods.

Bart Blackberry2

Yo, Bart here.

It’s getting colder and pretty soon it’ll be time to hibernate. Can’t wait. Turning the lights out and going dormant for a while is a great feeling – something certain people should do. I look at a lot of social media on my phone so I know what I’m talking about.

Facebook for example. Lots of stuff going on there. Blah blah blah all the time – there’s no end to it. Makes me think good thoughts about being comatose.

So while I’m waiting to fall asleep I follow the news. Pretty cool that the people at Snapchat turned down a 3 billion dollar offer from Facebook. Rumor is they might be able to get 4 billion from somebody in China for a company run by a handful of people that doesn’t make a profit. And the main thing Snapchat does it that it gives people a way to take pictures that are guaranteed not to last very long. They disappear after a few seconds so the photographers won’t be embarrassed later.

Three billion dollars for a money-losing company that produces things that are designed not to last.

I got me thinking (I have a lot of time to think now that Bear Season is over), and I came up with an even newer form of temporary social media that also doesn’t make money – it’s called “ComaChat”. If you sign up for “ComaChat”, you can send detailed personal messages to someone who is in a coma (me). I will not really see it, and will then immediately forget that it came in and that I didn’t even look at it. It’s a totally safe way to say something so private you don’t really want anyone to know, but you have to say it anyway.

No statement or confession is wrong on ComaChat. You’ll feel better for having gotten it off your chest, and there are no consequences. Unless what you have to say is “I left our fully stocked meat freezer unlocked in a clearing in the woods, and here are the coordinates.”

There might be some fall out from that one. Or should I say “pig out”?

Your pal,
Bart

Can you keep a secret?

Ask Dr. Babooner

Dear Dr. Babooner,

I am appalled … APPALLED! … that more stores are making the decision to open on Thanksgiving Day.

dr_babooner

The sad fact is – a covetous frenzy has already swallowed the formerly peaceful time between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Now now comes this terrible news that the disease has spread into Thanksgiving Day – the last major holiday we had that offered any shred of solemnity or respite from commercialism. Thanksgiving is a family day and it’s supposed to be spent WITH family, not in the company of depressed store clerks who were forced to leave THEIR families so they could put in a few hours earning the miserable pittance their chain-store masters pay them. What a travesty!

Having said that, I have to admit that I’d really love to get out of the house as soon as the meal is done.

I always spend the several days preceding T-Day as well as early Thanksgiving morning working like a woman possessed to get everything ready for the feast. I plan the meal, I cook the meal and I serve the meal. When it’s time to do the dishes, my (male, mostly) relatives sit back in the living room and groan and grouse like they’ve done something difficult by merely eating, while I and a few other females are left to clean up.

Getting an early jump on Christmas shopping and scoring some amazing deals is just the excuse I need to leave those slugs with the dirty dishes. And I have to admit it – going to the mall is a form of relaxation for me.

Dr. Babooner, I hate it that Christmas has invaded Thanksgiving. Would it be wrong to shop anyway?

Conflictedly,
Buyer’s Remorse in Advance.

I told BRIA that since she does all the necessary work to get the Thanksgiving meal on the table, she does not need an “excuse” to skip doing the dishes. The decision by several major retailers to open for business on Thanksgiving Day has put her in a terrible position. I told Bria she Must Not Shop on Thanksgiving Day, no matter how alluring the deals. But if a bargain materializes that is too good to pass up, she can send one of the groaning lugs from her living room with a fistful of cash. The chances are good that he hates shopping, and his loutish presence at the bargain bin mosh pit may cause the corporate gun-jumpers to reconsider their strategy.

And as an alternative, he might volunteer to clean up instead!

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

Messed-Up Mascots

Today’s post comes from perennial sophomore Bubby Spamden at Wendell Wilkie High School.

Hey Mr. C.,

I think it’s really cool that 700 people marched to the Metrodome the other night to protest the name of the National Football League team from Washington, D.C. The Vikings must have been kind of disappointed to see such a big crowd coming, only to find out they weren’t actually interested in tickets.

Me and my buddies have promised never to use the name of that Washington team again! We’re going to call them “The Washington Awkwards” from now on, ’cause that’s how it feels when we see their logo and all their uncomfortable-looking merchandise and stuff.

I hope they pick a new mascot soon.

WendellWillkie_edited-1

It makes me think of the ordeal we went through at Wendell Wilkie High School with our team name, which was “The Contenders”, because Wilkie was the Republican nominee for president against Franklin Delano Roosevelt in 1940 and he almost won (NOT).

A lot of students don’t like “The Contenders” as a team name because it just sounds, you know, mediocre. I mean, there’s this feeling of trying your best, but kind of falling short. So the Young Republicans Club got on this kick to change the name to “The Nominees”, because that’s the contest that he actually won – in the Republican Party.

But then the Tea Party Republican Club found out that Wilkie was actually a Democrat before he was a Republican and became an emissary for FDR after losing to him, and wrote a book called “One World” and they felt so disappointed they started to push to change the name of the school to Ayn Rand High with a team called “The Objectivists.”

Just when that idea started to get some traction, the Students Hating All Military Madness In Every Sense (SHAMMIES) found out about Wilkie’s “One World” book and started to agitate for keeping Wilkie’s name on the school and calling the team “The Peacemakers.” But that idea got crushed pretty fast by the administration because (people say) Coach Gittum let them know he’d have nothing to do with it.

Then the Irony Club had to get into the act. They thought our team should be called “The Losers” because that’s what Wendell Wilkie is known for, after all. There were almost enough votes to get a resolution on that through the student council, but at the last minute a splinter group thought “The Failures” would be even more ironic, and they couldn’t keep their coalition together.

Finally a group of moderates in the Honorable Compromise Club pushed to change our team name to “The Statesmen,” which caught on with a lot of people as a less-bad option than all the other ones that were being discussed, and it passed the student council on a narrow, but statesman-like, vote.

But when it got to the Board of Education they threw out the whole idea because it would cost way too much to change all the school signage and letterhead and buy new athletic jerseys and stuff. So we’re still The Wilkie Contenders. Contenders who fell short of our goal! But they complimented us on our process and they hoped we learned something about democracy, which of course we did!

It sure burns up a lot of energy!

Your Pal,
Bubby

What was your Big Cause in High School?

Your State’s Favorite Name Here

My favorite story about a person’s name came by way of a friend who had heard of an instance where a group of people were waiting at a government service center.  They had already turned in some paperwork so they were being called to the counter by name.

A puzzled clerk came to the front and hesitantly called out “Dee?  Deeah?”

After a moment’s silence, a clearly frustrated customer marched up to the clerk and demanded to see the name on the paper, which looked like this:  D-ea.

The customer rolled her eyes and huffed “It’s ‘Dee DASH ee ah’!  The dash is NOT silent!”

How could anyone know?  No wonder D-ea was miffed.  She probably realized in that moment she was going to spend a lifetime correcting people.  That can’t be fun, but it’s  the curse of having an uncommon name.

I suppose there’s a different type of frustration that rises out of having a name that is so ordinary, you run into like-named people at every turn.  I can scarcely imagine what it’s like to be a “Bob”.    Or a “Mary”!

Our national naming preferences are nothing more than fashion – a “hot” name sweeps the country and fades away, like weather or the flu.  That’s nicely demonstrated in the image below from the website Jezebel, which clicks through the years to show which girl’s names had favor in which states  at what times.

I’m amazed at the way “Jennifer”seized the national imagination and held it for so many years in the ’70’s.  It’s like the FDR of names – I’m sure parents at the time thought there would never be another top name for girls, ever.  Perhaps we need term limits for monikers.  Or it may be that our population is so diverse, there is less likelihood today that everyone will be on the same page, name-wise.  “Ashley” and “Emily” made a run at “Jennifer”-like status in later years, but the dominance Jennifer showed through Watergate and the Carter Administration is surely impressive and may never be equalled.    Today, it looks like “Emma” is ascendent.

But she’s no “Jennifer”.

How do you feel about your name? 

ku-bigpic

Fall Back

Today’s post is a Questionable News Dispatch from disgraced journalist Bud Buck.

Trying Not To Turn Back Time
Trying Not To Turn Back Time

Tea Party conservatives have mounted a last-minute filibuster to delay the return to standard time this weekend. Assuming a now-familiar position in the well of the Senate, Republican Ted Cruz said “I take the floor to speak until next Spring, if necessary, to keep the nation from making the grave mistake of turning its back on anything with ‘savings’ in the title.”

In the House, Speaker John Boehner has acquiesced to demands from the most conservative members of his caucus that clocks at the Capitol remain untouched throughout this weekend and until further notice because “… nothing about the United States is ‘standard’.” Sources inside the Republican caucus say the Tea Party contingent rejected a compromise offer from Boehner to change the name of the four month interlude between the end and beginning of Daylight Savings Time from the traditional “Standard Time” to “Exceptional Time”.

Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell tentatively endorsed the effort, pending the discovery of a way to link the time change to Obamacare.

But as usual, not all Republicans were on board with the tactic. Arizona Senator John McCain called the strategy “asinine”, and said “Nobody needs an extra hour of sleep more than I do.”

How will you spend your extra hour this weekend?