It has been a while since we’ve heard from him, but yesterday’s discussion about vegetables led to this response from the produce manager at Genway, the supermarket for genetically engineered foods.

Hello!

I’m delighted with the conversations I read on your blog! I find I am able to pick up wonderful ideas that turn into fantastic new developments in our food laboratory.

Just yesterday a person named Jacque called Kohlrabi a “crustaceous” vegetable. Then she back tracked and said she had mistakenly called the plant a lobster. But I don’t believe in “mistakes”! In my world, “mistakes” are scientific advances that happen while your back is turned and you’re thinking of something else. And believe me, I’m ALWAYS thinking of something else.

I got right to work trying to make Jacque’s dream come true! I already have a full library of GIANT aquatic arthropod DNA, so that wasn’t a problem, but finding kohlrabi was a bit tougher. I’m not a big fan of vegetables, which is odd for a supermarket produce manager, but if you spent all day around them you’d feel that way too, believe me.
Carrots are smug!

My research expedition to the Farmer’s Market was an eye opener. There are plenty of weird creations over there, almost as strange as the stuff in our store. Like eggplant! I believe eggplant is a spore from outer space, but that’s a different product and another story.

I located the kohlrabi and was immediately impressed with the vegetable’s wild attitude and tough outside cover, which does have a lobster-like stubbornness. I purchased a sample and brought it back to the lab. As night fell, everything was in readiness. Our projects draw a lot of electricity from the grid, so timing is crucial. Once North Dakota went to bed at 9pm, I was able to throw the switch and within minutes, Genway had a new product – Crayfish Kohlrabi!

It’s a vegetable with “SNAP”!

With Genway’s Crayfish Kohrabi, nobody can say vegetables are for wimps. They’re delicious when properly prepared, but be careful when you put your arm in the tank to take one out. These babies will fight back, and if they get a hold of you, they’ll hang on!

The story Jacque told about stealing some kohlrabi from the garden and running off into the cornfield to eat it raw with a little salt might also a good technique for dining on Genway’s Crayfish Kohlrabi … if you’re writing a scene from a horror movie!

Because these VegAnimals are genetically engineered, we don’t have a clear idea of the full range of their enhanced capabilities. In the secluded area between the rows of corn, their animated pincers might find the energy and the inspiration to make a tossed salad out of you! So be sure to take a buddy! And pictures! I can’t wait to find out what this new product can do!

Giant Crayfish Kohlrabi – new from Genway, the supermarket for genetically engineered foods!

Are you an adventurous eater?

Just as I was finishing up a nice, nutritious article about how we Americans do not listen when we are told to eat our vegetables, a note arrived from perennial sophomore Bubby Spamden.

Hi Mr. C.,

You know I wouldn’t be writing unless I need help finishing some homework. But here’s the good news – it isn’t due today! I was supposed to hand it in last Friday but I was out sick. Usually you have to turn in your sick day assignments first thing on the next day you’re at school, but this is for health class and the teacher, Ms. Scrubmaven, made a big deal last week about how bacteria can live on paper money for weeks! Since I did my work ON paper, I told her I made the difficult choice to burn it last Saturday morning, and I would take an F if she had to give me one, but I was at peace with my decision because it probably protected her and the class from getting whatever miserable disease I had. And no, it wasn’t Friday-itis! She was so grateful, she gave me a week to re-write it.

So anyway, the paper is supposed to be about new ideas to convince us teenagers to eat more fruits and especially more vegetables. Everybody’s all worked up about getting us to eat healthy stuff all the time. These papers are going to be bound into a book and sent to the White House, so there’s no getting out of it. I think Ms. Scrubmaven has a fantasy where Michele Obama comes to Wendell Wilkie High School and helps us plant a victory garden.

Some high schools are getting vegetable vending machines and their halls are full of reporters and local TV news crews doing stories about it. And of course all the publicity hogs are crowding around so they can get on TV for buying a bag of carrots. It’s good for sales on the first day, I guess.

And then there’s a TV campaign on which the adults think is just dopey enough to convince us that tiny carrots are as good as Doritos. Ha. Nice try. They must think we’re easy to fool.

Anyway, I’m supposed to write about some old fashioned ways parents used to get their kids to eat vegetables, and whether or not any of those ideas would work today. I know you and your people are pretty ancient, and maybe you can remember what your parents did to convince you that you should eat good food instead of the junk you really wanted.

If not, you could always make stuff up. Ms. Scrubmaven isn’t going to check up on it, especially if the stories are good enough to get Executive Attention, if you know what I mean.

Sincerely,
Bubby

I told Bubby I don’t remember being forced to eat vegetables or even encouraged to do so, but I do recall that when mashed potatoes were served they were always dotted with green beans. My mom called it “Grasshoppers Caught in an Avalanche”.

How were you encouraged to eat vegetables? Did it work?

Even on the worst days of my broadcasting career I sat in an ergonomic chair in a climate controlled, soundproof room, pushing buttons and playing records. This cushy deal gave me a skewed notion of what it means to work hard, and no concept at all of what it is to take real risks.

For me, “Hazardous Working Conditions” meant we were out of free coffee.

Occasionally I would lean back in the chair while listening to a record and would picture the path the music took – flowing out of the CD player through the mixing board, surging out of the building to the base of the transmitting tower, racing 1,500 feet to the top, and squirting out an invisible fountain of music, spraying the unsuspecting city with the sound of bagpipes playing the Theme From The Magnificent 7.

“What does it look like from up there,” I wondered. And “who goes up there to change the light bulb?”

These guys do.

If you can’t watch for technical reasons or won’t watch for due to height sensitivity or just plain wanting to keep your sanity, I’ll tell you it’s a stomach-churner. Nothing bad happens but the tower does get narrower and the ladder smaller and smaller as they near the top. Imagine standing on a dinner plate 1,700 feet above ground and you’ve got the basic idea.

Uncomfortable with heights? You’re not alone.

Last year a Bengal tiger at a zoo in England made the news for his reluctance to climb off a 15 foot high platform. Hunger and a tasty pig’s head left at ground level eventually convinced him to come down after two days of pacing and worrying.

This year they say Tanvir the Tiger is able to go up and down the tower without a problem, pig’s head or no.

Ever conquer a phobia?

The introduction of a full body scanner at the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport has drawn interest from travelers concerned about check-in delays and privacy advocates worried about a new level of unwelcome scrutiny, but to dealmaker and idea man Spin Williams, it’s a great opportunity.

Americans love attention!

I know a lot of them say they don’t, but really – they do! Once you understand that simple fact, everything else becomes clear. I’ve heard people worry that an unseen screener will laugh at their odd bulges, but I believe my fellow citizens hate being ignored even more than they resent being mocked, and basically most people are OK with a full body scan at the airport. And who among us is physically perfect, anyway? The chances are good that no matter how bad you think you look, the next person to step into the box probably looks worse.

And besides, the images I’ve seen make everyone look like the Silver Surfer, who was one of my favorite comic book heroes!

But if you happen to be one of the rare attention-haters out there, safeguards are in place. The software automatically blurs your face so the screener can’t pick you out of the line and laugh at you directly. AND, the machine erases your full body image completely just as soon as you are cleared as a security risk. That’s where I think a great opportunity is being literally thrown away!

Here’s my BIG idea to make it all work out fine.
Sell the images to their owners as a keepsake.

Why not? Look at Facebook – people there are letting it all hang out every day. And wouldn’t you like to own a full set of naked portraits of yourself with your arms over your head? Standardize the angle and the distances from camera to subject in every booth, and you could use multiple images taken at different airports to track changes in your shape and weight – a federally subsidized fitness program that would inspire millions to skip that candy bar until after they pass through the screening.

And with a little digital manipulation, you could easily insert your TSA full body scan into a greeting of some sort. How about Christmas cards!
Here’s a mock-up!

After all, there is nothing we find more interesting than ourselves, and this is a photo taken during a memorable experience that can be discussed for years if it is properly packaged and celebrated. So TSA, take a hint from Disney World. Sell people their full body scans at the airport!

From the Meeting That Never Ends,
Spin Williams

I wrote back to Spin to suggest that he needs to proofread his mock-up greeting card. But he might be on to something here. I have several arms-over-head, open-mouthed screaming-in-fear amusement park photographs that I paid way too much for, but they do a good job of capturing a moment in time.

At the end of the ride, do you buy the photo?

Just in time for your unique Halloween costume planning needs, two brand new dinosaurs have been introduced, and though they’ve been dead for millions of years, they’re just right for our times. Want to dress as one? Get a hat and pile it high with as many spiky protrusions as you can find and you’ll be close enough.

Utahceratops and Kosmoceratops are baroque boneheads with plenty of skull bling.
Each ancient cranium is full of enough distracting and extraneous ornamentation to qualify as a vocal solo on Glee! The purpose of all the skeletal action – to attract potential mates. It seems that some amorous dinos found their thrills in bony frills above the neck and shoulders.

Utahceratops and Kosmoceratops come from the same family of beasts that gave us our beloved Triceratops, a kid-favorite fossil “brand” that just merged with the relatively unknown but equally hornful Torosaurus.

But here’s the part that surprised me – they lived during the late Cretaceous period, an age when the western part of North America was separated from the east by a body of water named the Western Interior Seaway, or the Niobraran Sea, though of course no creature alive at the time called it that. I believe they dubbed it “GHRRRRROOOOOGHGGGGGGGG”.

What we think of as the Rocky Mountains today was a separate continent, which had no name at the time but is now called “Laramidia”. If climate change continues to melt the polar ice and sea levels rise high enough, our descendants could become the new Laramidians. No doubt they would need a fancy sounding anthem for this intensely vertical, suddenly prairie-less land.

Laramidia hail to thee!
Hail to thy great mountains high.
Hail to thy uplifted hills.
Hail to thy thin-layered sky.

From thy summits to the sea,
From thy peaks straight down to foam,
Thou art vertical indeed.
Laramidia, my home.

Thou has not a grain of wheat
Nor a field that’s ripe with corn.
Nothing flat, as you can see.
Only dinosaurs, with horns.

Laramidia, be strong.
Laramidia, be tall.
If thou walks abroad at night,
Laramidia, don’t fall.

Thou art nought but up and down.
Thy terrain do we extol.
When we tumble we make straight
Unto the waves. That’s how we roll.

Do you know the words to any national anthems other than the good ol’ USA’s?

Good news, Jane and John Q. Public. The recession is finished!

The data sifters announced it yesterday. Their analysis reveals that the recession has been over for more than a year. You may not have noticed it due to all the commotion from businesses closing and distraction of unemployed people with their moaning and complaining, but trust me, the great tumult has passed and Happy Days Are Here Again.

The stock market already knows this. Wall Street has been adjusting its numbers accordingly over the past year, so don’t expect a sudden huge uptick. Larger forces anticipate what small players can’t see happening, I guess.

In short, the most troublesome stretch is finished but today will feel much like yesterday and all the concerns remain. The fundamentals have shifted but nothing is really different.

Kinda like when your child comes of age.

Twenty-one years ago today I witnessed a miracle as my beautiful and brave wife Nancy gave birth to my amazing, wonderful son Gus.

Everyone said having a child would change the world for us.
It did.

Everyone said raising him would be the hardest, most rewarding thing we’ve ever done.
It was.

Everyone said the time would fly and he’d be grown up before we knew it.
It has, and he is.

We could not possibly have imagined how delightful it would be to see him turn 21, or how proud we would be of the smart, funny, caring man he has become. A man! We really didn’t get it back in 1989 that we were dealing with a baby man, even though Everyone Said!

At each stage along the way we assumed the reality of the moment would last forever. At the time I would have said that feeling rose out of exasperation and fatigue, but now I know it was essentially optimistic. We were loving every minute and hoping against change. But change came anyway, and now that it is here it’s cause for celebration.

So starting today, things are in a new phase. The world has shifted again, and yet nothing is different. I feel like I should shave my head as a reminder that we have entered another realm, but wait! Nature has already taken care of that. Larger forces anticipate …
The show goes on and a new act begins!

When has a good change crept up on you?

A statement from Congressman Loomis Beechly regarding the November election and the Tea Party:

Greetings Constituents, and thank you from the bottom of my heart for not coming up with a Tea Party candidate to challenge me this year. Minnesota’s 9th district – all the water surface area in the state – is known for a fiercely independent streak and a willingness to throw caution to the prevailing northwesterly wind just to “see what will happen”. That’s a wonderful, adventurous quality for any group to share, and it keeps me awake at night.

As I watch what is unfolding in other places I’m appalled to see that people with little more qualification than the ability to carry an enormous chip on their shoulder are running and defeating incumbents in primary battles. Back when I first ran for office, it wasn’t so easy to take an election. For one thing, I didn’t have ME to run against! If I could have gained traction by just NOT being my opponent and NOT being part of the “establishment”, it would have saved me a lot of money and several ruined pairs of loafers that were sacrificed to cattail marshes when I went door knocking on houseboats.

And yet today’s upstart Tea Partiers still seem angry, even after they win! They’re ungrateful for how easy we’ve made it for them. They think political success is nothing more than a Beach Boys lyric – catch a wave and you’re sitting on top of the world! But there is so much more to public service than that. To survive you have to be able to catch a wave headed into shore, sit on top of the world for a short while, then catch another wave headed out, then switch to a sideways wave, get wiped out, swallow a whole bunch of awful tasting junk, almost have your head taken off by your board and come up spluttering that you meant to do it all along and make people BELIEVE you.

That takes political talent, and I don’t think these Tea Party People have it.

You have to be able to get all the nuances right, like casually messing up your opponents’ name to belittle him without actually saying out loud that you think he doesn’t matter. That’s an under-the-radar technique I learned from watching a great President, BLJ. A lot of today’s Pea Tartiers are too young to remember him.

And another thing – don’t be too honest. This isn’t Facebook and not everybody needs to know your status all the time. A little mystery is a good thing in romance and politics. If you liked to hang out with vampires when you were a teenager, that doesn’t make you a bad person, but it is also not a picture I want to have in my head when I go to the polls. Remember, all politicians are expected to kiss babies, but no one is likely to hand their precious bundle over to a candidate with blood dripping from her pointy fangs, even if she has pledged not to raise taxes.

Find a way to accuse your opponent of horrible acts without assuming any accountability yourself. Guilt by association works, and if that association can be with unnamed mythical characters who are widely regarded as evil, all the better.

Seeming to give advice to your adversaries is another subtle way to plant the idea in the public mind that you have the exalted status of teacher while your competitors are mere novices. People will forget the details of what you said but will remember the dynamics of the relationship, so move to the high ground as quickly as possible. Just be sure your advice isn’t very useful.

Right now it looks like I’m running unopposed, but the 9th district being what it is, an unanticipated write-in campaign can surface very, very quickly, just like the Loch Ness Monster. If you are already planning to vote for me in November, thanks for your support. And if you are undecided or opposed, I respect you, and I have an amazing timeshare deal in Phoenix you should definitely check out at a special all-day on-site sale-a-bration this November 2nd.

Sincerely,

The Right Honorable Loomis Beechly
Congressman
Minnesota’s 9th District

Are you the sort of person who gives advice?

The Wall Street Journal featured an article about goats and trademark law yesterday. The story described legal battles launched by the family-owned Al Johnson Restaurant in Sister Bay, Wisconsin. The restaurant has a sod roof and features roof-grazing goats in its advertising. Apparently people come from quite a distance to eat a meal there and marvel at the animals overhead.

Fourteen years ago, the restaurant trademarked its use of goats on the roof to attract customers. When another restaurant in Georgia also employed elevated ungulates, the Wisconsinites sued. The manager of the Georgia restaurant is quoted in the Wall Street Journal calling the lawsuit “ridiculous”, but a settlement was reached and now a fee is paid by the Georgia company for the use of the surprisingly successful Roofgoat marketing strategy.

For those in goat-based industries, this line lifted from the story is a chilling reminder of what is at stake.

Any business that sells food and uses goats to lure customers may be violating the trademark, says Lori Meddings, the restaurant’s lawyer. “The standard is, is there a likelihood of confusion?” she says.

I guess if you’ve seen one goat standing on a restaurant roof, you feel like you’ve seen them all. The lines that separate one goat boasting establishment from another may blur. Mass confusion reigns! How in the world can one remember the rules that govern how they are and are not supposed to exploit their goats?

Perhaps a rhyming law is required!

Goats are good and even great if you’ve a grassy roof.
To trim the gables, eagerly they’ll lift up haunch and hoof.
But if you run a business don’t use goats to sell the food,
For restaurants with Roofgoats are quite regularly sued.

The thought of Roofgoat legal suits inclines some folks to laughter,
But many, many people eat where goat treads over rafter.
Perhaps a legal remedy would just involve some switchin’.
Put all the cooks up on the roof and goats down in the kitchen.

What would you trademark, if you could?