Teenagers live such anguished lives. Here’s the latest quandary from perennial sophomore Bubby Spamden.

Hey Mr. C.,

I was talking to my friend Doug about music yesterday and he said we should form a band. Not just the two of us, but us and a few other people. I said that sounded cool even though I don’t know how to play any kind of instrument and am not a very good singer, but he said that’s all right you don’t have to be a good singer to be in a band.

What you have to have is a good name with enough attitude that people will remember it. He said a good name for our band would be “The Flaming Sacks of Poop”, because it’s something shocking that you can picture and it’s real hard to forget. At first you might even want to stomp on it to make it go away but then, if you think for even a moment, you realize you’d better not. So it’s got a special appeal for the brainy audience too.

I said I did not want to be known as “A Flaming Sack of Poop”, and was thinking that a better name would be “The Kings of Seduction”, because that sounds smooth and classy.

He said “Kings of Seduction” is the kind of name people forget as soon as they hear it. They’d be left wondering if we were in charge of Seduction or Romance or Chocolates, whereas “Flaming Sacks of Poop” is the kind of name that creates a lasting memory.

We decided to let the new members of the band figure it out, so we invited Brandon and Heather to join us and we told them what the name choices were. Brandon liked the “Flaming Sacks of Poop”, and Heather was for “Kings of Seduction”, even though she is more Queen-like, personally. That didn’t really accomplish anything.

So then Doug said let’s find a middle ground just like the president did on the rich people tax and call our band “The Kings of Poop”. But then Heather said what about “The Flaming Sacks of Seduction”? This went on for a while. Compromise is hard.

Now it looks like our group is going to be called “Dung Love Combustion”, which I really hate. But unless I agree I guess our careers will never get started, and this may be my only chance to be in a band – ever. Because I still don’t know how to play anything.

Should I go along with a decision that feels ridiculous, or stand my ground?

Your rockin’ pal,
Bubby

I told Bubby he should address a more fundamental question. Can a non-musical person make a meaningful contribution to a band? Making a compromise to get the band up and running may turn out to be a mistake if the result is bad music and embarrassment. Perhaps the time spent arguing over a name could’ve been put to better use studying the guitar.

But learning things is also difficult, and inventing names is fun!

What’s the best band name you ever heard? Or would like to hear?

Recently, while going through some family papers that had been collected by my late brother, I discovered a 1902 newspaper account of a relative who died after being hit by a train. The headline read:

GROUND BENEATH CARS
Sad Death of Lola Irving Leonard

It tells the story of an 18-year-old high school senior in Yonkers, New York who was on her way home after school one rainy December afternoon. Apparently she slipped and fell while trying to board a train and the wheels of the last car ran over her legs. After an emergency amputation and four and a half hours of suffering, she passed away.

The “unfortunate girl”, as the article described her, was my great grandmother’s sister, but this was not a story I grew up with. In fact, the only “Lola Leonard” I knew of was not my great grand-aunt, but my grandmother, born in 1905, just a few years after the train station tragedy. Clearly she was named for her mother’s lost sibling. You’d think such a story would become family legend, but the episode might have been too painful pass along. I literally heard it for the first time a few weeks ago. I’m glad someone decided to save the article, and that I had a chance to see the yellowed newsprint before it crumbled away to nothing.

All of that came to mind yesterday when I spotted a You Tube video which has since traveled around the world several million times. If you haven’t seen it yet you should take a look, especially if you admire courage and like happy endings. Spoiler Alert – A man in Madrid falls off a station platform on to some railroad tracks and another man pulls him out of the way at the last possible moment.

I’ll be interested to read the complete story when someone manages to tell it. Some accounts have said the man who fell on the rails was drunk. That’s possible. Being drunk would certainly explain what happened, though there are other ways to topple off a platform.

Another account said the off duty policeman who performed the rescue ran to the spot where he jumped down on the tracks to help. Maybe so, but he seems awfully relaxed as he approaches the scene. Maybe he’s not relaxed, but exhausted, or scared. Another story claimed the rescuer’s name was “Angel”. Perhaps it was. If not, it’s possible his name will be “Angel” by the time the Hallmark TV special is filmed.

If you watch the video, note the reaction of the people in the station. Clearly they are concerned. Man on the tracks! They want to save him and they try to flag down the onrushing train. Some turn away at the last moment because they can’t bear to watch what they fear is about to happen. I understand all of that completely. I think we’d all like to be the strong person of action who moves quickly and decisively in a moment of crisis, but if I was put in the same situation I’m pretty sure I would be one of the well-meaning people who stayed on the platform, and not the hero who faced the danger.

A salute to the Spanish policeman for his physical courage!

And in the lesser category of linguistic feats, I commend one of the commentators following this story in the online edition of London’s Daily Mail.

A typographically challenged reader named Jeremy remarked about the hero:
“And he was so clam doing it!”

To which another reader named “K” responded:
“It would be difficult to accuse that bloke of being shellfish.”

What a brave bit of wordplay. My hero!

What’s the most courageous thing you’ve ever seen?

Late yesterday Ben revealed this interesting bit of information in the comments:

“Had a dream last night about two bears fighting and ripping themselves apart– complete with sound effects. Had to get up and take a walk to try and shake the images… Thanks gang.”

Naturally I found this disturbing, so I texted it to a friend who I thought could offer some advice. Here’s his reply from the deep woods, translated from the original Ursus Textish.

Hey, Bart here.

Thanks for sending that strange comment from your reader “Ben”. I don’t know what his dream was really about, but I have heard that humans named “Ben” have more than their share of bear-related identity issues. Guys named “Smokey” and “Yogi” also suffer, I’m told.

People get weird ideas about bears. Either we’re crazed killing machines or we’re dancing tangos and having a picnic down in the glade. Cruel or cute, with no middle ground. That’s us.

The truth is – most bears are boring. Really, really dull. They’re like your fat Uncle Ralph sleeping in front of the TV, without the recliner, or the TV. A lot of us are set in our ways and not at all interested in stuff outside our own little world. Plus, we’re dirty and smelly and not very good company, even for our own kind.

And you know that question people are always asking, wondering if bears do some basic biological stuff in the woods? Well we do, and it’s not pretty.

So I could see why a person with the same name as a famous bear would have dreams where bears are violently erasing themselves from the picture. That’s the fantasy of someone trying to find himself – someone who needs to get a hairy obstacle out of the way before he starts.

It’s not about us, it’s about YOU, Buddy. I’m just sayin’. I hope you can work out your problems. Almost time to hibernate. See ya’ in the spring!

Your pal,
Bart

Bart may be right, or perhaps Ben fell asleep with the TV on and subliminally ingested this advertisement for a British Salmon processor:

Where do dreams come from?

Dear Dr. Babooner,

Thanksgiving was a little tense this year because some relative I won’t identify saw fit to “leak” a large number of confidential text messages that I had written regarding certain specific personalities and delicate situations inside the family circle.

Dr. Babooner, I’m appalled at this betrayal of trust!

When I called Aunt Julia as “fat as a beer swilling Sasquatch” and said that my sweet little nephew Mikey will probably wind up on death row someday and observed that cousin Oswald “has sex appeal, but not to members of our species,” I was not trying to hurt anyone’s feelings! Rather, I was attempting to paint an accurate picture of our real-life family dynamic. And why? To make getting along with others a simpler task for others who are, frankly, inept when it comes to interpersonal relationships.

I should have known that these unnamed people (OK, person) were (was), in fact, so totally clueless about relationships that they (Uncle Louie) would not see the harm in releasing these very sensitive, intensely private communiqués as “interesting reading”. But even in my most cynical dreams I could not have imagined that he would print my words on tiny Post-It notes and stick these notes to the backs of the name cards I propped up against each plate at the Thanksgiving table.

That’s reverse diplomacy – targeting destructive messages for certain audiences with intent to destabilize the balance of power. And I thought my Uncle Louie understood that! I’m not saying Uncle Louie did it. Only that Uncle Louie is exactly the sort who would try to explain it all away with a stupidly earnest cliché like “the truth will set you free.”

That’s false. Now that the truth is out, I do not feel liberated. In my opinion, real freedom happens when everyone can stick to the same comfortable lies that make it possible for us to all get along.

Now just about everyone in the family wants an apology from me before we can get together for the next holiday. I will make the necessary gesture, Dr. Babooner, by putting a personal note inside a select group of Christmas cards. But can I also take advantage of this opportunity to defend myself by placing some of the blame where it so clearly belongs?

People already know I’m a loose cannon. What could it hurt?

Sincerely,

Honest 2 A Fault

I told H2aF that she (he) would be wise to treat every apology as a stand-alone event, and not to clutter it up with extra accusations. Putting your note of remorse inside a Christmas card is bad enough, but weighing it down with snarky comments about Uncle Louie is unforgiveable, even if he is a dirty, thieving leaker.

Diplomacy demands restraint on the public side of the curtain, and frankness on the other. Earnestness on the surface, and dark humor on the backside. Take your lumps, you whiney coward!

I mean, be brave.

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

You may have enjoyed a peaceful holiday, but for trend watcher and idea man Spin Williams, the work never stops. He is firmly focused on a future too far off for most of us to see clearly. His brain has been churning since before Thanksgiving with the news that military minds are hard at work on the next leap forward. Spin’s New Investment Techno Weekly Internet Transcript (NITWIT) arrived on schedule, early this morning.
I pass it along as a public service:

Here at The Meeting That Never Ends we were thrilled to see that our own Department of Defense is studying the Flying Snakes of Asia. Never mind why! All Defense Department research is Top Secret, or ought to be. Let our military leaders issue their usual bland denials about what they’re up to. They’ll never tell us what it’s really about, and they shouldn’t. Besides, it’s more fun to make something up!

Here’s a video of the snakes in question, just to show you what we’re talking about. I have no idea what is being said. It might be a foreign language or just people muttering nonsense syllables sparked by tongue paralyzing fear, but if you look at the images it’s obvious the snakes aren’t flying, they’re just falling in a very, very creepy way.

Simply terrifying. But a simple thing can be more than enough to change the world. Or if it doesn’t change the world, it can be enough to send the world running for its life into the underbrush, screaming and blubbering with panic and astonishment. I know that’s how I’d respond to a flying snake!

You may say “Why, Spin, would our Department of Defense want to be involved with such a mortifying creature?” I say “Why not?” It’s the Defense Department, after all. Horrible stuff is their business.

And next you might say, “But Spin, why are you sharing this grotesque news with me?”

Because, dear reader, we at The Meeting That Never Ends believe this is the first step in the eventual design and construction of military Slithercraft. I say this because I know scientists are already studying all the different ways nature has shaped animals to create the most efficient systems possible. In fact, some researchers are now convinced the most economical kind of flying machine will be rounder and stubbier than our current air fleet – something shaped more like a fluffy robin than a sleek missile. But when it comes to building a potentially pants-wetting fighter that would be hard to shoot down, the Slithercraft is (or will be) man’s most unbeatable rip-off of nature ever.

Ultimately, Defense related technical advances lead to commercial uses (Velcro, anyone?) At T.M.T.N.E. we think Slithercraft technology will find its way into our commercial air fleet, and within 30 years we’ll all be wiggling our way across the sky in large, very flexible vehicles. In fact, within 100 years I predict that our atmosphere will be crowded with writhing, speeding air carriers – so much so that from a distance of several thousand light years, it will appear that our planet is nothing more than a spinning ball of serpents.

What does our Department of Defense know that would lead them to try to create such an image for distant observers? Let your imagination run wild.

The question of the moment is this: What does the Slithercraft mean for today’s investor? Plastics, of course, and Dramamine. Any company specializing in one (or both) of those areas is one you should look at very closely.

Your Insightful Pal,
Spin

Although Spin has lots of experience and a great imagination, I’m not ready to put all the family savings into motion sickness stocks. But would I bet against Spin’s vision?
No I would not.

Other than man, what is the most terrifying natural creature?