Dear Dr. Babooner,

I have always followed one simple rule – I never EVER hand over more money than I absolutely MUST, whether I’m buying a plane ticket, the latest flat-screen TV or simply paying my property tax bill. That’s why I brave pepper spray and gunfire to shop on Black Friday. That’s why I will spend an entire weekend comparing and contrasting competing airfares to Miami. And that’s what drives me to disparage and oppose any politician who dares to consider a tax hike of any kind!

My money is so important to me, I’ll devote whatever time and energy is necessary to pay less and get more, whether I’m at Wal-Mart, the airport, or just going for a walk down the cracked and broken sidewalks of my home town! Never pay more than the other guy. That’s the American way!

But during the post-Thanksgiving meal cool-down, as I was describing my latest victory in the money wars (we defeated a school referendum!), I wound up getting in a huge argument with my brother-in-law Larry about this very thing. He claims my low-cost obsession is misdirected, and never ending quest to pay less I actually wind up spending more than I save in terms of hours and emotional investment.

I told him the economic forces behind my compulsion are sound, and he countered by arguing that I’m nothing but a sourpuss who will die young having wasted far too much time agonizing over pennies. Imagine that! But Larry has always been a socialist and a bum. He actually shakes his head when exceptionally rich people die, saying that anyone who leaves this Earth with lots of money still in the bank is a “loser”. Then he cited some newspaper article claiming the Black Friday deals are actually not the best to be had. There might be some science behind that, but mostly I think he was breezily pulling these opinions out of his butt!

What are the worst things about Larry? He shops whenever he wants, buys what he likes and votes for Democrats!

I’m pretty sure that the essence of a well-live human life boils down to coming out ahead of everybody else in the constant battle over money, but it bothers me that Larry doesn’t see that. Since Thursday afternoon I’ve spent so much time thinking about his crazy ideas I’m afraid I’ve missed several attractive MONUMENTAL Black Friday Deals and failed to deliver an appropriate helping of scorn to a legislator who failed to sign the Grover Norquist No-Tax Pledge! I still know that I’m right, but I feel like I’ve lost my edge.

Dr. Babooner, how can I defeat my brother-in-law if he refuses play my game?

Frugally,
Miserable But Still Able Miser

I told MBSAM he may have won the economic war but his brother-in-law has come out ahead in the psychological contest to define happiness. At this point, the only way to get Larry’s attention and possibly win in this make-believe contest is to find a way to appear more joyful than he is, and happier in general than virtually everybody else.
Perhaps there’s a Door Buster Deal on attitude adjustments somewhere?

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

Today is the birthday of a guy with one weird imagination – the cartoonist Chester Gould, creator of the character Dick Tracy. Gould was born on this day in the year 1900.

I remember reading this comic strip as a kid and losing my way in the complicated parade of eccentric characters (Flattop, The Mole, Diet Smith, Mr. Intro) and strange plot twists. The relentless pressure of producing a daily comic strip for over four decades does not promote careful storytelling.

The part I remember best about Dick Tracy was how Chester Gould introduced unusual gadgets and devices into the strip, giving us the Two-Way Wrist Radio in 1946, which he upgraded to the Two-Way Wrist TV in 1964. Preposterous! Until five years ago, I was certain people would never be able to carry TV’s around in their pockets.

If we accept the idea that Chester Gould’s “space period” Dick Tracy was way out in front of our development of technology, expect to see magnetic levitation as a common method of travel across wide distances (Air Cars) and easy commuting to the moon (Space Coupe)! In fact, the story line had Dick Tracy’s adopted son (Dick Tracy Jr.) marrying a lunar resident (Moon Maid).

I admit I always liked the idea of magnet-powered travel. If it works for metal shavings on Wooly Willy, why not the rest of us?

Of course if Gould was a 100% correct predictor in everything he drew, men would have embraced the bright yellow trench coat long ago.

What’s your favorite comic strip?

Dear Dr. Babooner,

I’m hopelessly attracted to brainy do-gooder types who are interested in art, education, community and philanthropy. I can’t help it. When the words “not-for-profit” are whispered in my ear, I feel lightheaded and all my pockets get turned inside out. Needless to say, I’m widely known as a giver.

Anyway, I had this crazy dream that all my nonprofit friends came to the door asking for desperately needed help on the Very Same Day! While others might be delighted at the attention, I felt totally overwhelmed. I ran down to my basement and hid behind the washer for an entire afternoon while the doorbell rang incessantly. When I finally emerged I was covered with dryer fuzz and spider webs and looked like a cross between The Mummy and a lint roller that had been donated to an animal shelter.

I was just about to go back to answering the door, worried that my friends would now find me frightening and repulsive, when I woke up. But it made me wonder if it could possibly be a bad thing that I am so compassionate and generous.

Caringly,
Gil Tripp

I told Mr. Tripp he shouldn’t let one bad dream change his supportive lifestyle. Just because a deserving nonprofit organization asks for help, that doesn’t mean you are a bad person if you don’t come across. Nonprofits can’t afford to judge you – they can only be grateful that you are a philanthropist. Your support of any nonprofit organization is cause for celebration by everyone who works for the benefit of all, even if they never get a direct contribution from you.

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

Here’s a note from Tamara Kant-Waite, past president pro-tem of the Future Historians of America:

Dear Prospective Primary Sources,

The last time I wrote it was to encourage you to treat everything you touch as if it could be a valuable future artifact – something to be cherished and studied and puzzled over by the scholars of nexter-year. I’m back to make the point again because the future of our representation of the past is at stake! Our precious objects have lives that run parallel to our own, but many of those smaller metallic trinkets will last a lot longer than we do.

That belt buckle you’re wearing, for example. To you it may be a mere link in the ensemble that holds up your pants, but to Future Historians that hunk of metal could represent a tremendous breakthrough. A buckle that’s not at all like it was just found buried in Alaska and is being touted as proof that people migrated across a land bridge that linked present North America with Siberia! Imagine! Who knows what YOUR belt buckle, found 1,500 years from now, could prove? It might become the only piece of evidence that ancient upper Midwestern peoples who traded in the industrial/retail area near the Woman Throwing Hat Statue migrated, perhaps on a daily basis, out to the suburbs.

It’s hard to tell what parts of our built up and manufactured world will last, but real things tell stories. So spend some time today paying attention to the genuine objects that surround you. And then take some of these precious items out in your yard, and bury them.

Why? Because they will be received as gifts by Future Historians who may otherwise be condemned to sorting through our permanent e-mails, perpetual Facebook pages and indelible tweets. That’s bound to be dreary work. Which is why these yet-to-be-born historical investigators will silently thank you for your blessed offering of something tangible to examine.

Yours in the Fullness of Time,

Tamara

She has a point, but it’s hard to guess which of my most durable things might make a worthy discovery for the scholars of tomorrow. It would likely be the most mundane thing I have, which does not narrow the field much since everything I have is mundane.
A nail clipper, perhaps?

What will the archeologists find most interesting when they sift through the site of your house 1,500 years from now?

The Tom Keith Hurrah on Saturday night was, as promised, a giddy romp. There were songs and jokes. There was cross dressing, juggling and magic. And Baboon(er)s were in the audience, alongside some other animals, if I could believe the sounds I heard people making.

To the right you can see our representatives from the Trail, courtesy of PlainJane from the West Side and her husband (the photographer). From left to right in the back row: Jim (Joanne’s husband), PlainJane, tim, Joanne, Anna, and engrossed in his book verrilee sherrilee’s s&h. In the front row, also from left to right: Linda, verrilee sherrillee,
and madislandgirl.

The smiles in this photo are an important sign of artistic success. The people who put the show together, Garrison Keillor, Dan Rowles, Kate Gustafson, Sue Scott and a host of other hard working APHC staffers and associated artists, insisted that the Fitzgerald theater be a eulogy-free zone for the night. There not much that words can add when you bring out the bagpipes, as they did for the show’s finale. What is it about that instrument that gives people permission to cry? Maybe the intensity of the sound simply drives emotions out of hiding, I don’t know.

And if that wasn’t enough – Pies Were Thrown. Or at least Pies Were Pushed Into Faces.

I wish I had a picture of the actual pies and the willing victim, along with some video of the hilarious clean-up process. Perhaps those will surface eventually here. For the audience, it was a delight, and a fitting tribute to Mr. Keith, who always wanted to please the crowd with laughs and amazements and then send them home happy. On Saturday night at the Fitz, his friends did just that.

Who deserves a pie in the face?

A few kind Baboons have announced their intention in recent comments to wait in line for tickets to the Tom Keith Hurrah! this afternoon at the Fitzgerald Theater.

You should have a nice enough afternoon to stand around with your strange friends and friendly strangers. We expect sunny skies and a high in the mid-50’s. I know only a few things about the show itself but from what I’ve heard you will see sights that are not likely to be repeated. It will make the Sunday papers and people will talk about it for years. No solemn occasion, the goal is to do a show that the funniest guy in town would have loved. Tom appreciated the direct approach to humor. You may remember he went light on the subtext and heavy on the slapstick.

Having said that, I can’t imagine Tom waiting in a long line for anything. He was generally unimpressed with whatever was being handed out at the end of a queue, doubly so if a whole bunch of people thought it was something special. The presence of a crowd just about anywhere was a sign to him to turn around and head in the other direction. The one exception was any case where he was appearing in the show. It wasn’t that Tom thought he was worth the price of admission (though he was). It was simply a matter of fulfilling an obligation. He had a job to do.

There is a time in a typical American life when a person is willing to stand for hours and even camp out overnight, if necessary, to gain admission to a much anticipated concert or event. The urge fades with time. Maybe it diminishes in synch with the willingness of one’s friends to devote the better part of a day to getting in the door. There is a social aspect to standing in line together that, in the best cases, breaks down barriers. People chat, save spaces for each other, commiserate. On occasion it turns ugly, like when the rain starts and there’s only one narrow awning to stand under, or when someone budges.

Ultimately the quality of your line-standing experience is determined by the strength of your legs, the condition of your stomach, and the dispositions of the people around you.

Share your standing-in-line strategies and experiences.

Here, as usual, is a special Election Day message from the lone US Congressman whose district has been drawn to include ONLY the water surface area in his state – Minnesota’s Loomis Beechly.

Greetings Constituents,

Today is Off-Year Election Day, so I’m urging everyone who is having an off year to get out there and vote. If you do that, we should have a 100% turn out!

Yes, not just 99%. Because even the super-rich are having a rough time of it. Not moneywise of course. Their greatest problems are reputational. Most people don’t think highly of the rich to begin with. Common folks believe they would do a much better job of being rich than the rich folks do – a better job in that they’d be more approachable, more sensible and more charitable.

Don’t be so sure.

As a Congressman representing all the water surface area in Minnesota, I have regular dealings with rich people about the licensing of their mega-yachts and pleasure craft. Mostly they tell me that our boat registration costs are too, too high. And it’s not just about saving a few dollars. I’ve discovered that a lot of the money going to pay for those expensive boat licenses could be spent on political campaigns instead. That’s a wise re-allocation of resources, so I’m definitely looking into that, but don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not being bought to enable some tycoon’s self-indulgence. The super-rich are no more selfish than you are. However, they are more successful at it.

What can I say? They’re achievers.

Anyway, all this talk is confusing and stressful. Why not take out your frustration by voting on something? You could put a mayor or a city councilor or a school board member out of work. Or, you could help them keep their jobs. Or you could give someone else a NEW job. It’s all about making a difference. Sometimes you just have to stand up and say “I matter! Even if I don’t know what I’m doing!”

So go to the polls and cast your random, uninformed vote today. This is a great year to do it, because I’m not running for anything and the next twelve months will be full of crazy messages that are blurted out by candidates who are under the influence of think tanks, PACS, Super-PACS and six-packs. Think of it – for a full year, everything that’s said in every form of media will be intended to influence one or more segments of the voting public. Will it be aimed at you? Don’t you want to be wooed? Who doesn’t! If you can’t be rich, you should vote, at least.

Become a voter– today is your last chance to get an oar in the water before the year of seduction begins. Why endure such a long conversation that isn’t about you?

Respectfully,

Congressman Loomis Beechly

As usual, the Congressman makes a weird kind of sense. So consider voting today.

What kind of rich person would you be?