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Fore!

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Photo: gal2.org/David July
Photo: gal2.org/David July

Today’s post comes from perennial sophomore Bubby Spamden.

Hey Mr. C.!,

I found out the other day that my whole generation has already turned its back on golf as a sport. That was interesting news to me, because I really had no idea golf still existed!

I mean, I’ve noticed when we pass by some of the courses in town that there are people out there driving little carts around on the grass, and that looks kind of cool except the carts go too slow and they don’t have big enough wheels. I’d want something more powerful and off-road. But still, driving a golf buggy could be fun for a while – maybe 15 minutes. I hear out in places like Arizona there are communities where people drive golf carts everywhere.

I don’t think I have the patience for that.

I asked my dad about golf and he said “The sport is doomed” because it’s too hard to learn, too expensive to play, it takes too long to get through a round, and all the people who love it are old and they wear funny clothes.”

That seemed pretty negative for a guy who has played golf all my life. So I asked him why he likes the game and he said he likes it because it’s a way for him to be with his friends where he can talk as much or as little as he wants. Because golfers have this “thing” about noise, it’s OK for a bunch of them to be together and still be quiet.

It made me think of when I’m with my friends and we all sit in the same room and focus on our phones instead of each other. And come to think of it, some of us wear funny clothes, too. So I guess I’m already doing something that’s kind of like golf and I didn’t even know

But at least what I do is cheaper. If you don’t count the cost of my data plan.

There’s one thing my dad told me that made golf seem like it might actually be worthwhile – at some of the courses in the summertime they have these cute girls who drive around selling food and beverages, including beer. For the most part the golfer guys are so old they really shouldn’t be flirting with the girls, but some of them do anyway. They get to be pretty heavy tippers out on the course, even though they’re not that way in the normal world. Kinda creepy. And then a lot of them buy beers and keep on driving their golf carts, which totally adds up to drinking and driving and not getting in trouble for it, which is something you can’t do anywhere else.

Depending on how many beers they have, they might also turn into heavy tippers when they go around a corner too fast. Golf can be dangerous.

Anyway, I asked my dad if I should take up the game, and you know what he said? This floored me. He said “No, look at you. A high school sophomore? You’re too old to start now. You’ll never be any good at it.”

He’s NEVER said anything like that before – it’s the first time I’ve ever been told I’m too old start something! A milestone for me – yay! Finally – an excuse for not being an achiever. I feel so grown up, I’m starting to have regrets about having lived so much of my life already – and all the stuff that’s passed me by.

I missed out on golf!

Your pal,
Bubby

If you could master any sport, which one would it be?

Songs, Uncategorized

Sugar, Um, High

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So now there is research to suggest that people with lower blood sugar levels have better memories and superior brain health compared to those with high blood sugar. That’s serious stuff, and a great cause of concern for someone with an incurable sweet tooth (like me)!

Chocolate_Cake

But the comforting news is – I’ll forget all about this alarming food-health connection after I polish off these delicious frosted brownies.

There is a cliche that those who are disappointed in love can find some solace in a sweets binge. Maybe now we know why. Or as the famous Nat King Cole could have said:

Unforgettable, that’s what you are
Or at least until I eat this bar.
Chocolate chips that whisper ‘Yum’ to me.
Now your name does not quite come to me.
In a few bites, you’ve dropped from my sights.

Unforgettable, make no mistake.
That’s what you were ’til I had this cake.
A delight I used to share with you.
Now I’m stuffed, and unaware of you.
And that means there’s more dessert for me too.

What is your “comfort” food?

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Do These Rings Make Me Look Fat?

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I don’t spend a lot of time looking at myself in the mirror – just enough so that I have to explain to people that I don’t spend too much time looking at myself in the mirror.

Some people assume if you’re constantly gazing into a pane of glass you’re a hopeless narcissist who can’t get enough of the one and only thing in the world you love. I wouldn’t know if such a motivation is even possible, but I contend that there could be another possible reason.

Reflection fanatics might be looking (and praying) for a new angle.

Ever walk past one of those three mirror alcoves in a clothing store only to be confronted with a side view of yourself? I do not recognize the side-view me as a real representation of me. I know what I look like, and it’s what I see head-on over the bathroom sink, 20 years ago.

But I do sympathize with the planet Saturn, which is almost always glimpsed on the horizontal or with its rings slightly tipped at a jaunty angle. Like an aging movie star, Saturn knew to keep the paparazzi at a distance, and always looking at that “good” side. That’s why it was so jarring when an “amateur image processor” from Croatia named Gordan Ugarkovic, produced this unusual image using 36 shots taken by the Cassini spacecraft. Cassini has been orbiting Saturn since 2007, sending back a steady stream of remarkable views.

Saturn_top

This is Saturn caught in an uncharacteristic pose. If it were me, I would argue that my rings look too wide and that shadow is unflatteringly massive. Why, yes, yes, of course it’s me – there’s no denying. But you shouldn’t sneak up like that and just start snapping photos. Give me a moment to compose myself. We outer planets can’t be as photogenic as Earth, all colorful and swirly most of the time. After all, feeling prepared and having good complimentary lighting are really crucial when you’re a gas giant.

What’s your best angle?

Songs, The Baboon Congress

Music: The Most Powerful Art Form

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Today’s guest post comes from Chris in Owatonna.

How many times have you been to an art museum, looked at a certain painting or sculpture, and started to choke up or cry, feel joy or triumph?

I certainly don’t recall any extreme emotional moments looking at art.

How many times have you looked at a photograph, read a book or a poem, watched a play, or experienced any other art form, and been moved to tears or other powerful emotions?

Once or twice? I’ll admit I’ve done that on rare occasions. A few years ago, I surprisingly choked up at the climax of The Help by Katherine Stockett. And yes, it was the book, not the movie.

Now, how many times has music brought you to tears of either extreme joy or great sorrow?

For me, dozens of times.

Right now, I bet some of you are saying, “Wait a sec. What about movies? Lots of movies make me cry. What about the ability of the filmmakers and actors to elicit such powerful responses?”

To that, I say try watching the movie with the sound turned off or the music edited out somehow. Example: the scene at the end of It’s a Wonderful Life where Harry makes the toast to “My big brother George, the richest man in town.” Everyone singing Hark the Herald Angels Sing sets up that line. Without the music, it’s just a happy party. The song signifies the town coming together for George and the apparent miracle that saves him. That’s why my waterworks start. The old cliché, “Cue the violins,” rings true because without an effective musical score, most movies would carry much less emotional impact.

This leads me to my point. I’ve stumbled across another one of those rare moments: a song that is arranged and sung so powerfully, so perfectly, that it stunned me into silence, then brought tears to my eyes. The last time that happened was the first time I heard Eva Cassidy sing Over the Rainbow on the Morning Show way back in February of 2000. I remember that day as vividly as September 11, 2001. It was just before 8:00 and I was cleaning up my breakfast dishes. Through the whoosh of the water, I heard this sweet voice and simple accompaniment. Mesmerized, I turned off the water, went to the living room, turned up the volume, and listened attentively. When she hit the last high note, then finished with that gorgeous chord progression and final arpeggio on the guitar, I melted. I couldn’t buy the CD fast enough, and when I got it, listened continuously for days. I’m sure I listened 100 times that first day, putting it on endless replay. By now, I’ve listened to Eva sing Over the Rainbow THOUSANDS of times. It can still make me cry on occasion, at the right moment for whatever reason.

This young man’s name is Sam Robson, and the performance I’ve linked of him belongs in the rarified strata of Eva’s best singing. I hope you enjoy it as much as I have. I only wish he’d put it onto a CD so I could buy a copy. In the few weeks since I first heard this, I’ve listened at least 100 times and can’t get it out of my head. Please listen on your best speakers, or better yet, with a good pair of headphones. And no distractions or multitasking. Just soak up this most beautiful noise.

What music moves you to tears?

Uncategorized

Could Have Been Worse

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Today’s post is a House of Representatives newsletter from Congressman Loomis Beechly, representing Minnesota’s 9th District – all the water surface area in the state.

Beechly Announces He's Not Going Anywhere At All.
Beechly Announces He’s Not Going Anywhere At All.

Greetings, Constituents!

I’m glad to report that the crisis is over and our government is open for business again! Hooray!

I got all your letters and calls, and though I didn’t exactly answer every single one I did read parts of most of them, so I know the past few weeks were very difficult for you. Thanks for your very graphic suggestions about where I could put things, and how I might atone (personally) for the behavior of some other members of Congress.

In spite of some very direct invitations that you sent me about moving to another district, state or country, I want you to know that I’m staying put and I’m equally certain that we all still think the USA is the greatest country on Earth!

And now comes the really important work – Forgetting Everything That Just Happened. Fortunately, this shouldn’t be hard since our research shows most people are bored by political tiffs and when all is said and done they have no memory of who started it and who got sucker punched. An old mentor of mine once said “You’ll never lose an election by overestimating the ability of a typical voter to totally disregard the most important details.”

And no, I don’t remember who it was that said that.

I guess the lesson here is the same one any craftsman learns – know what your tools can do.

When I was a small child I decided I could get my mother to buy me ice cream by holding my breath. The first few times I tried, it didn’t work. Then one summer day we were down at the lakeshore and there was an ice cream vendor there, and I asked if I could have a cone and she said “No” so I held my breath so long that I actually did black out a little bit, got kind of dizzy, stumbled, and almost fell in the water.

That’s when I found out that while I couldn’t use breath-holding to get ice cream, I COULD use it to make my mother super mad. That was a good lesson – and i realized it was not a very useful tool since I had lots of other ways to make the very same thing happen.

And just like the voters, over time she forgot my ridiculous behavior and kept a fierce love for me deep in her heart. Actually, the voters probably won’t do that, but mothers can be trusted to set aside the silly stuff. Eventually.

I guess my real point is that as bad as this whole episode was, and although it suggests our political system is broken and in spite of the way it left a strong impression that some of our elected officials are spoiled children, at least we don’t have to put up with giant hornets that kill people indiscriminately.

And that’s why the USA is a much better place to live than China!

God Bless America!

Your Congressman,
Loomis Beechly

If you had to live in another country, which one would you choose?

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Ask Dr. Babooner

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Dear Dr. Babooner,

ann_landers-baboon-2-copy

My husband and I just put our house on the market and I have a real estate question for you.

He is a scientist who uses rats to do research on addiction. Last year, he decided to experiment at home with an idea he had at work – that rats might find Oreo cookies to be as addictive as cocaine.

This was the kind of experiment he couldn’t get government funding for at the institution where he works – that’s why the study was set up in our laundry room. I objected, of course, because even with the precautions he took with regular clean-up and freshening the cages and whatnot, all my skirts started to smell like a Rat Barracks after a few short weeks. In part this is because he had to keep all the windows shut and doors closed on account of the presence of the cocaine and the fact that we live next door to an Elementary School.

Like I said, he was doing it on the sly.

Anyway, he started to find out that the Oreos are just as addictive as the other stuff. And with Double Stuff, the Oreos are TWICE as compelling. They have more allure than morphine.

It was all very exciting.

In fact, it was so promising, my husband got some federal funding and moved his experiments back into the lab.

Meanwhile, a few of the rats escaped and now we have a problem with a worthless bunch of O-heads back at the house. I mean it – they got totally hooked on Oreos and now they don’t want to eat ANYTHING else. At all. And even though we stopped buying the cookies, we live next door to an elementary school (I know I said that already) and the children regularly bring contraband out into the schoolyard.

Now the emboldened rats are literally chasing children on the playground just to score some of that lunchbox gold. It’s a good thing the tykes aren’t armed, though I know the NRA wants them to be. I’m afraid the random, panicked shooting would perforate our house.

Anyway, I’ve sworn off Oreos and I’ve told my husband he can no longer bring his work home – our neighborhood is terrorized by red-eyed vermin with blackened teeth and milk keeps disappearing from the refrigerator for no apparent reason.

So, back to the real estate question – I’m afraid that if we’re able to move, the new owners will quickly discover the local rats are crazed and the structure will have to be abandoned and possibly burned. I tried to find a way to disclose this on the Truth In Housing form but I couldn’t find a blank space big enough.

Dr. Babooner, is it always best to tell everyone the complete truth?

Sincerely,
N. Festashun

I told “N” that telling everyone the complete truth all the time would be exhausting and probably impossible. But there are some things one shouldn’t gloss over, and selling someone a house possessed by demon, cookie-craving rats is probably one of those things. Unfortunately. The real moral of this story is that grown-ups should leave their work at work.

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

Songs

Waves of Blame

26 Comments

Frantic last minute maneuvers in Congress may yet avert a financial default by the U.S. Government.

Here’s hoping.

Grain

But anyone who cannot pay her bills should be prepared to offer an explanation. In the 1930’s, Popeye’s friend, J. Wellington Wimpy, had such an excuse as his catchphrase.  Though “I’ll gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today,” would not convince many people to float a loan in 2013.

But I think a disappointing message is received better when it is sung, and it just so happens that Wimpy’s signature dodge fits perfectly into the lovely, lyrical almost-our-national-anthem “America the Beautiful.”  I couldn’t resist, although it feels like sacrilege to replace “purple mountains majesty” with what amounts an empty promise.  But I contend that these are only song lyrics, and they are not nearly as awful as what is about to happen to our real national finances.

Some party bull. Some outright lies.
Recurring waves of blame.
Our fingers point to other guys
And they point back the same.
America! America!
Has self-inflicted ills.
A deadbeat now. A bum, somehow.
Defaulting on her bills!

We’ll gladly pay you Tuesday
for a hamburger today!
We have to be selective
which expenses we defray.
America! America!
The budget is a tool!
Each party hopes the other dopes
will seem the bigger fool!

A manufactured crisis
is something that we still make.
The part that isn’t nice is
that it takes so long to break!
America! America!
I hope we can agree
next time to skip the brinkmanship,
and please don’t furlough me!

The original “Boy Scout” version of America the Beautiful has eight verses. I couldn’t come up with that many, but everything has been downsized since the sequester took effect.

In this case, that’s probably for the best.

Should some songs be off-limits to parodists?   If so, which ones?  

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Bumper Crop

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Washington – Recent figures show that 2013 is turning out to be a banner year for the tireless workers who turn the fertile soil of American public opinion, planting seeds of doubt and raising the hackles and ire that feed our public discourse.

Sunflower_face

“We’re seeing massive amounts of confusion over everything,” said Republican narrative farmer Walter Todd, who planted a new variety of Obamacare Satanis in early July and is reports it is already in full-flower coast to coast.

“All I did was I told my brother in law at a Fourth of July picnic that Obamacare would ultimately lead to the socialist re-branding of Disney World as ‘Occupy Orlando’. It was just something provocative to say – I chased it with a few beers and the thing took off. I didn’t expect it to grow so fast.”

Experts say just about any story that has an identifiable villain and ends in disaster will take root and grow tall this year.

“The environment has been perfect for it,” says Katie Boo, a professional fear monger in the Boston area. “The summer got a late start and people had to cram a lot of activity into just a few short weeks. They’ve been too busy to think much about what they’re hearing – they just believe the last person they talked to.”

All the hours and care spent sewing confusion are starting to pay off. Now that Autumn has started we’re seeing record crops of divergent convictions, from where responsibility lies for the partial government shutdown (Republicans or Democrats) to the real cost of failing to raise the debt ceiling (impending financial cataclysm or mere bookkeeping adjustment) to the true nature of orange Jello (tasty low calorie dessert or radioactive Hellspawn).

“Honestly, there’s fertile ground just about everywhere for pretty much everything,” said Lars Shrillstone, a freelance alarmist. “I was in Phoenix last week and ran into a really healthy variety of ‘Ted Cruz is an Evil Robot’. Usually it doesn’t take hold that far west, but this year, anything goes.”

What grew tall in your yard this summer?

Uncategorized

Take and Give

35 Comments

Today’s post comes from Bart, the Bear Who Found a Smart Phone in the Woods. His words have been translated from the original Ursus Textish.

Bart Blackberry2

H’lo. Bart here.

It’s been a while since I’ve written because I’ve been keeping a low profile. Bear Hunting Season is still underway.

Not that anybody talks about it much. If there was a hunting season for YOU, it’d be all over the news but since it’s only legal to shoot me, all you hear about is the government shutdown.

I don’t care much about whether the government is operating or not unless it means all the bear hunting licenses got revoked, which of course they haven’t been because there are still bullets whizzing past my head. For me, fewer people at work means there are more people in the woods – and that’s not good.

Please get it fixed soon! I have to admit I resent it a little bit that I have to be afraid for my life for six weeks every year. People can be pretty cruel.

So until then I’m kinda on personal lockdown. I’ve turned off all the ringtones on my phone. I can’t even afford to have it vibrate because there are some people out here who shoot first at sounds and ask questions later. If you’ve sent me a text lately I haven’t been able to pick it up – sorry. One more week and I’ll be able to relax a bit.

And I’m kinda fasting. Staying away from food is important during bear hunting season, cause that’s where they expect you to be – near the tasty morsels. And when you’re being hunted, hunger is a weakness!

But after October 13th, I’ll be able to chow down. Then it’s a race to put as much fat on as possible before the weather turns really bad. Lucky for me Halloween comes in there a few weeks later. Do you know how many Milk Duds I can score with this bear costume? Plenty! And I love it that you really don’t have to say anything. Oh, people try to make me say “Trick or Treat,” but I just look at them and let a little drool spill out of the end of my snout and they hand over the candy pretty quick. As I walk away I’ve heard some people say “Man, that kid has bad breath.”

So that’s the thing. You humans take away my freedom and my security, and then you hand over exactly what I need to survive. You sure are funny that way. Kinda contradictory. I’m not complaining but you sure do keep me guessing.

Anyway, let this be a reminder to you. Bear season is almost over. Time to stock up on candy!

Stay calm and aim high,
Your Pal,
Bart

What’s your most profound contradiction?

The Baboon Congress

Pastels and Pixels

89 Comments

Today’s guest post comes from Clyde.

I am an addict without a support group.

Clouds. I am addicted to clouds. Not ICloud or Dropbox or Mozy. No, the things up there in real space, not in etherspace. The white, gray, blue, pink, purple, yellow, orange things. The puffy, stringy, tiered, tumbling, feathery things. The spring, fall, summer, winter things. The gay, brooding, ominous, exhilarating, majestic, mysterious things.

I got this addiction when I started pastels. Delightful and fulfilling it is to paint clouds in pastel. You layer on the dust, push it around, coloring your fingertips. If it goes right, which it often does for clouds, in a few minutes you have the top portion of the painting completed. Wise you are to make the sky the major portion of the painting.

Then came, sorry to say, the digital camera. I can shoot and shoot clouds and pick out the best. At least the theory was to pick out the best. Pretty soon I was keeping all the pictures, printing most of them, on the premise that any view of clouds might work in one picture or another. First I had a file called “Clouds.” Then I had files labeling clouds by colors, forms, moods, seasons.

Just when I thought I was getting control of my addiction, we went to Seattle, which is Sin City for the cloud addict.

We went to Seattle Center, site of the Space Needle, beneath which lies the Experience Music Project. I did not see its broken guitar architecture. I saw how it reflects clouds.
We went 5400 feet up to Paradise on Mt. Rainier. After I took 57 pictures of the clouds, I needed heavy detox.

It must be on our genes.

What’s in your genes?