Tag Archives: Beer

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Ask Dr. Babooner

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We are ALL Dr. Babooner

Dear Dr. Babooner,

I’m an older person who enjoys his simple pleasures. I cherish my freedom to “live large.” I figure I’ve earned my leisure time. No one is the boss of me and every minute of every day is pretty much spoken for. I guard my schedule of planned relaxation quite jealously.

Sitting in front of the TV with a beer a jar of nuts is one thing I really enjoy. I know it’s not particularly healthy, but I view physical exertion the same way some people look at paying taxes – I don’t do it unless forced, and then with plenty of complaining.

I don’t socialize or do things with the extended family, because that’s not really part of my routine. I start the day with light beer, dry roasted peanuts and morning news shows and slowly transition to dark, hearty beers, cashews, and police dramas.

There might be some intermittent napping in there as well.

Still, my relatives pester me about doing things to prolong my life, citing studies like this recent one that claims people could live five years longer if they would just do three hours of “moderate” exercise every week.

I don’t doubt that any of this is true, but do the math – that’s six full, 24-hour days of exercise each year. And let’s assume you get your five year “extension”. You’d have to continue this exhausting habit to stay alive – no coasting. Six times five is thirty. You’d be stuck doing another month of exercise until the grim reaper finally allows you to quit!

In the meantime, think of all the TV that would go un-watched, the peanuts that would be uneaten, and the beer that would remain un-drunk!

Dr. Babooner, why should I change my comfortable and abundant lifestyle just to spend more time (literally) on a treadmill?

Largely,
Bud Planters (not my real name)

I told Bud Planters (not my real name) that his “routine” is actually a steep downward spiral but he’s free to live five years less than he might if that’s his preference. But I couldn’t figure out two things.

  1. How did the mental fog lift long enough for him to do the math on excise and write this letter?
  2. How did he wind up with relatives who care whether he’s around an extra five years or not?

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

History

Waves From Grain

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The current news is full of fear and paranoia about the Ebola virus, and of course it is a valid concern but still not the most pressing immediate threat to one’s life and limb.

The sad truth is, any number of unlikely occurrences happening in the right order at an unfortunate time can conspire to quite quickly usher you off the planet. Take, for example, this day in 1814, when a host of people died in the undeniably tragic and yet weirdly delicious sounding London Beer Flood.

Enormous pressure inside a large vat of fermenting porter burst some iron hoops that kept the barrel together, causing other large casks to explode in a chain reaction that flooded an impoverished neighborhood. Eight were killed, mostly women and children in the surrounding buildings and streets.

I suppose this was a time and place where neighbors had little to no influence over the business ventures that took up residence in their midst. Some were probably glad they had a brewery on the block, rather than something truly dangerous and repugnant, like a slaughterhouse. Drat the luck!

In one possibly made-up account of the tragedy, flood survivors taken to a hospital caused a stir because they reeked of beer. Other patients, unaware of the reason for the sudden introduction of such a heady fragrance into the atmosphere of the infirmary, became indignant because they weren’t also receiving the same medicine that others were getting – in what smelled like mammoth doses.

I don’t think being a doctor has ever been easy.

What’s your favorite medication?

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Fail Mellow, Hell Wet

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We’re still a few months away from the Walleye opener, but the ice fishing houses have come off the lakes (if they ever went on) and we’re in a strange lull between water surface activities. It’s possible that Congressman Loomis Beechly has been finishing a few of the leftover six packs that came off the ice with all that lightly used gear. I don’t know how else to explain the loopy tone of his latest missive to residents of the 9th District.

Greetings, Constituents!

Today is Super Tuesday! At least that’s what they tell me. I wouldn’t know – I like to say every day is super, but that’s because voters feel good about optimists and I feel good about votes! But I also really believe that every day IS super, which is convenient. In politics, things don’t always work out so neatly.

The experts say the results from today will help determine who is going to run for President this year in the Republican Party. Maybe it won’t be decisive moment, but it will be the kind of moment that has something to look at and talk about, and one that involves interesting characters and some suspense. What more do we want, really?

I might have over stated it when I said the characters are interesting. Of course I believe anyone willing to make a serious run for President of the United States is not a normal person. The job’s self-regard requirement goes far beyond the reach of average folks. Even narcissists know they are unqualified, because it isn’t nearly enough to be enthralled with yourself. You have to believe everybody else can find a way to love you too! Some would call that optimism, but I think it’s delusional thinking.

And voters share in the delusion. We want our supreme leaders to be approachable and “down to earth”. We want them to remember us, to be our buddies, to be the sort of person it would be fun “to have a beer with“. Or in the case of non-alcohol imbibing Mitt Romney, the sort of person you would like to have watch you from across the table while you enjoy a beer and he has a Diet Vanilla Coke.

But who has that kind of broad appeal? Heck, I’m not even the kind of person I’d like to have a beer with, most days. The only one who comes to mind when I think of the beer test is the actor George Clooney. He seems really likeable in that comfortable way that is best described by the phrase “Hail Fellow Well Met“, which is something I don’t really know the meaning of, but you get the idea.

Of course George isn’t running, but if he was I’d support him. It almost doesn’t matter what he says. He’s got that average guy thing going for him, even though he’s far above average in just about every category. I think if you added up the beer appeal of all the candidates in both parties you wouldn’t even get to a full Clooney on the Mail Wallow scale. Or Hail Fellow shale, I mean. Or scale.

But you get my drift. Politics is a funny business.

Anyway, this is probably something that we should definitely NOT send out, OK Marjorie? Just transcribe it and I’ll take a look at it in the morning. If I even remember dictating it, which I’m not even sure now that I did, or do.

Good night!

Your Congressman,

Loomis Beechly.

Hmm. Seems like someone was not paying full attention to a complicated task, but was just following procedure without really reading or understanding the text.

Name an elaborate chore you regularly perform without thinking.