What better things are there to do on these snowy, wet, cold, slushy, and otherwise crappy days? My favorite thing is to just go to my bookshelf and randomly pick a book to read and to look for interesting information. Since it is the holiday season I thought why not talk about death. Unfortunately, or fortunately the book that I picked at random this morning contains quite of lot of information on death and dying. So, in the spirit of the season I’m going to supply you with a list of actual ways people on this planet decide to be buried. Some of these ways are a little strange but who am I to judge.
Create a certified, high-quality diamond from the cremated ashes of your loved one.
Send a symbolic portion of your loved ones cremated remains into Earth orbit, onto the lunar surface, or into deep space.
Have your cremated remains placed in a “reef ball” to help seed this planet’s coral reefs.
Have your remains frozen in liquid nitrogen, with the intent of restoring your body (in good health, of course) when technology becomes available to do so.
Have your remains frozen and transformed into organic compost and buried with in a potato-starch coffin that promotes plant and tree growth.
Have your remains incorporated into fireworks, so you can have a custom fireworks display for your friends and loved ones.
Create a custom portrait of your loved one incorporating their cremation ashes.
Have your body mummified the old-school Egyptian way.
Donate your body to be “plastinated” or embalmed for public display for educational and instructional purposes.
Now that I’ve succeeded in depressing you let me take it one step further.
It has been estimated by scientists that since human beings became a distinct species, more than 100 billion, give or take a few million, have died.
It is estimated that more than 135,000 people will die on your next birthday. Just give a kind thought to the 135,000 people who are estimated to pass away on the same day.
You have a higher chance of being killed by a donkey than of dying in a plane crash.
You’re slightly more likely to die from a cave-in than from contact with hot tap water.
Death from being struck on the head by a coconut occurs for about 150 people each year worldwide.
Mike Edwards, cellist for the 1970’s band, The Electric Light Orchestra (ELO), was killed by hay bale that rolled down a hill and smashed into his moving van.
Let’s talk about shopping. I’m not a shopaholic by any means but my better-half is. She keeps me posted on many things and it never ceases to amaze me how the prices have soared since the pandemic. I’m not here to say that’s a good thing or a bad thing but it is a thing we have to deal with. I myself do a lot of food shopping and I track food prices fairly closely to save a buck here or to save a buck there. It usually takes a lot to surprise me but the prices in the last year have been rising at a ridiculous rate. I don’t know whether it’s just the ability of every business in the country to gouge the crap out of the population or maybe there is some other logical reason for it. Honestly, I think it’s a little bit of both. Just to satisfy my bizarre curiosity I decided to do some price matches from the 1950’s against our present prices. This list is primarily products that everybody uses and needs, and I retrieved the 1950’s numbers from my archives which are unquestionably accurate and for the present-day numbers you can thank Google. Prepare yourself to be truly depressed.
1950’s v. 2022
Bread (1 lb.) $ .14 / $1.75
Bacon (1 lb.) $ .77 / $7.61
Butter (1 lb.) $ .87 / $5.00
Eggs (Doz.) $ .72 / $3.42
Milk (Gal.) $ .44 / $4.41
Potatoes (10 lb.) $ .57 / $6.00
Coffee (1 lb.) $ .51 / $2.99
Sugar (5 lbs.) $ .47 / $ .59
Gas (Gal. Reg.) $ .26 / $4.02
Postage $ .03 / $ .50
I’m all for getting the people who supply these goods to us a fair wage and a fair price but to see this much of a change in some of these categories leads me to believe some of these prices are not fair. It seems that everyone these days is an expert on just about everything so I’m sure I’ll get some trolls complaining about this post. These are my opinions and if you disagree with me, I’d recommend that you start a blog, do some research, post your own information, and then answer all of the lame-ass email criticisms you’ll likely to receive from people just like you. Merry Christmas!
I’m a bit of a history nut and because it’s the Christmas season I began wondering, how the Christmas we celebrate came to be. Of course, having a trace of Celtic blood in me leads me directly back to the Druids and some of their odd and unusual celebratory customs. As far as I can tell that’s where the tradition of mistletoe began as it was a part of many of their holiday ceremonies. As I read through a number of books there was absolutely no history of kissing under the mistletoe in the days of the Druids. The tradition of hanging a sprig in the house is supposedly linked to them as well. That came much later with the earliest recorded mention in some sort of music from 1784.
In illustrations of Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol, there appeared pictures of people kissing under the mistletoe. It’s quite likely that those illustrations popularized the custom. Leave it up to us Americans to take an old Bronze Age custom and turn it into just another reason to be kissing on someone.ofofofI was also curious of where the custom of bringing a tree into the house originated. As best I can determine it started with the Germans who got it from the Romans, who got it from the Egyptians who got it from the Babylonians. Who knows what’s true and what isn’t. It seems that those pesky Babylonians passed down a lot of crazy traditions to anyone who’d listen. Apparently, there was some sort of Babylonian fable concerning an evergreen tree that grew out of a dead tree trunk. Sounds stupid to me but any reason is a good reason when you want to throw a party or orgy.
The first written record of a decorated Christmas tree comes from Latvia, in the 1500’s. Local merchants decorated a tree and danced around it in the marketplace. When they became too tired to dance, they set it on fire. I’m sure glad that custom didn’t make it to the present day. Around that same time the Germans in their infinite wisdom passed a law to limit the size of a Christmas tree to just over four foot high. You gotta love them Germans.
Jump ahead a hundred years when it became common in Germany to decorate Christmas trees with apples. During the 1700’s in parts of Austria and Germany, evergreen tips hung from the ceiling and were decorated with apples, gilded nuts and red paper strips. The first mentions of using lighted candles came from France in the 18th century. Those quirky French must have a fondness for the occasional house fire. As Europeans emigrated to America, they brought their customs with them. The Christmas tree was introduced in the United States and grew from tabletop size to floor-to-ceiling. If you’re going to live in America, everyone knows things must be bigger and better.
In the 1880’s trees began to be sold commercially in the United States and were normally harvested from the forests. The first glass ornaments were introduced again from Germany and were mostly balls. Toys and figurines also became more common during those years. Sears, Roebuck & Company began offering artificial Christmas trees for sale – 33 limbs for $.50 and 55 limbs for $1.00. There was nothing that Sears Roebuck won’t rush to sell to make a few bucks.
The 1900’s brought us the first Christman tree farms because the surrounding forests were being overharvested. W.V. McGalliard planted 25,000 Norway spruce on his farm in New Jersey to get the ball rolling. President Theodore Roosevelt actually considered banning the practice of having Christmas trees out of his concern about the destruction of the forests. His two sons disagreed and enlisted the help of conservationist Gifford Pinchot to convince the President that the tradition was not harmful to the forests. In 1966 the National Christmas Tree Association began its time-honored tradition of having the Grand Champion grower present a Christmas Tree to the First Lady for display in the Blue Room of the White House. Currently there are approximately 25-30 million real Christmas trees sold each year in the United States. Almost all of these come from farms.
Just a tip from a former college student who worked part-time on a Christmas tree farm in Edinboro, Pennsylvania in the 1960’s. It was the worst job I ever had. I smelled like pine trees for months and ruined most of my clothes because of the sap. That job convinced me to say the hell with tradition, just get me one of those beautiful artificial trees. I never looked back.
With the holidays underway I looked far and wide for some holiday related limericks. I found a few but they were absolutely horrible. So, I decided that since every holiday has a feast of one kind or another, today’s collection of limericks will be about food and eating. They are also rated G so the younger readers can enjoy them as well. The juicier limericks will continue after the holidays for all of you poetry connoisseurs. These are circa 1952.
As I’m sure you all know, people love beer. With the holidays coming up I assume that all of you beer fanatics out there will be hoisting a few cold ones while watching many of your favorite football games. I’m not a beer person but I’m sure if you consume enough it will make for an even happier holiday season. I understand it also helps, if done properly, to “zone out” all of the miscellaneous holiday conversations you would normally be required to respond to. I’ve been told many times by friends and acquaintances alike that “beer is better than women”. This posting was sent to me by a friend, but it should be read primarily by the men. I’m sure a few beer drinking women will be up in arms over this post but please don’t kill the messenger. I’m just forwarding this along to the men out there who will be in need of some comic relief in the coming months.
WHY BEER IS BETTER THAN WOMEN
You can enjoy a beer all month long.
You don’t have to wine and dine a beer.
When beer goes flat, you toss it out.
Beer is never late.
A beer doesn’t get jealous when you grab another beer.
When you go to a bar, you can always pick up a beer.
Beer never has a headache.
A beer won’t get upset if you come home with beer on your breath.
If you pour beer right, you’ll always get good head.
A beer always goes down easy.
A beer is always wet.
A frigid beer is a good beer.
You don’t have to wash a beer before it tastes good.
Beer doesn’t care when you come.
You always know if you’re the first one pop a beer.
Hell, I think I’m having a beer induced epiphany. After reading all of this interesting information I just might have to try a beer or two over the holidays. I never realized just how much better beer was than women until I read this list. As an aside ladies, if you think this list was misleading or untrue, I welcome any contributions from all of you as to why beer is better than men.
This is a favorite post that I pull out once a year because it takes me back to a time when Christmas was still something special for a young kid. This is one of those incidents that stays with you for your entire life and the older you get the funnier it seems. At the time I wasn’t laughing all that much, but the prank was done with the best of intentions by my favorite aunt. Enjoy!
As a young child my parents made every attempt to make Christmas as memorable as possible for my sister and for me. I was almost 6 years old when this incident took place back when I still firmly believed the tales of Santa and his elves and all that good stuff. But in the back of my young mind, I secretly was beginning to have doubts. A lot of what I was being told by the family wasn’t what I was hearing on the playground. My friends had almost convinced me there was no Santa and that my parents were actually the real gift givers. My parents apparently began to suspect that I was wavering, and their propaganda was falling on deaf ears. In a conspiracy involving my mother’s sister, Annamae, they decided drastic action was needed. I’d been acting out and being a little disrespectful, so it was time for Santa to straighten me out.
It was about a week before Christmas, and we were visiting my grandparents. I was being a huge pain in the butt like a lot of six-year-olds can be. It was just after dark, and I was walking through the house to the kitchen. As I passed by a window in the hallway I glanced over and almost crapped my pants. There was Santa standing there staring right back at me and smiling. I was terrified and quickly ran upstairs and hid under the bed and refused to come out until the coast was clear. My parents let me know in no uncertain terms that Santa was out looking for those children who were being good and only visiting those that weren’t.
For the next day or so I was a perfect little angel but after dark I was afraid to look out the windows or to enter a dark room. Santa the terrorist had accomplished his mission. I saw him on two or three other occasions during the next few years, once at our home, and again in the cellar of my grandparents’ house. Unfortunately, I was already a nonbeliever by that time but went along with the charade to keep peace in the family and not to scare my little sister. By then I knew my parents were the ones I needed to suck up to and I did it in grand fashion.
Many years later while I was digging through a trunk in my aunt’s bedroom I discovered where Santa had been hiding for all these years. His retirement consisted of being hidden under a pile of sheets and pillowcases in an old trunk. My aunt laughed like crazy when I confronted her, and we both enjoyed the moment very much while I modeled the hat and beard one last time. It was a real Hallmark moment for both of us.
What I never told her, or my parents was that there was some lingering collateral damage from their actions. My first case of Christmas PTSD. To this day during the Christmas season, I’m careful in dark rooms and try never to look out the windows after sunset. In the malls or stores where Santas is holding court, I usually just walk on by without making eye contact. The guy still scares the bejesus out of me. LOL
I’m already getting a little bored with Christmas so here’s my change of pace. Mish Mosh is always interesting and it will help to get me out of this holly, jolly, mindset I’ve fallen into. Weird and strange facts which someone (maybe even you) will find interesting.
Women tend to shave approximately 412 square inches of their bodies, while men shave only 48.
Tap water in New York City is considered non-kosher, as it has been found to contain microorganisms that qualify as shellfish.
December is the most common month for children to be conceived.
Fingerprints are unique to each individual, of course, but the same goes for tongue prints and lip prints.
A pound of peanut butter is made up of 720 peanuts.
During his nine-year reign as pope (beginning in 955), John XII was charged with multiple sexual acts and toasting the devil with wine. He was allegedly killed by a jealous husband.
Confederate volunteers in the Civil War were paid $11 per month in 1861. Their pay was increased to $18 per month by 1864, but by then the currency was almost worthless.
As General George Patton crossed a bridge over the Rhine River into Germany during World War II, he stopped in the middle and urinated into the river.
The working title of the Beatles hit “With a Little Help from My Friends” was “Bad Finger Boogie”
The human heart produces enough pressure to squirt blood more than 30 feet.
I already feel better since ridding my brain of all this holiday insanity, if only for just a few minutes. I’m afraid that I’ll be back at posting about the holidays and Santa and reindeer and mistletoe and snow and Christmas cards and OMG please stop me now.
Christmas has always been a season of giving from the Salvation Army Santa’s to Soup Kitchens, and the efforts of almost every religious group I can think of. I was curious about the generosity of previous generations but not only for the Christmas Season but generosity in general. So, here are a few samples of it from the past that have been long forgotten.
John D Rockefeller made his first contribution to a philanthropic cause at the age of 16, which was in 1855. By the time he died, 82 years later, the oil magnate had given away $531,326,842.
Ernest Hemingway gave to The Shrine of the Virgin in eastern Cuba, where he lived, Nobel Prize money he had won for the novel The Old Man and the Sea. “You don’t,” he said, “ever have a thing until you give it away.”
When he learned, in 1905, that one of his company’s batteries was defective, Thomas Alva Edison offered to refund all buyers. From his own pocket he returned $1 million.
About $330 million was donated by Andrew Carnegie to libraries, research projects, and world peace endeavors.
Gerrit Smith, a trader of Dutch descent, made available 120,000 acres of Adirondack wilderness to runaway slaves – a noble experiment with the help of his son, who was a professional reformer active in the Underground Railroad.
To help raise funds for the starving poor of Berlin, Albert Einstein in 1930 sold his autograph for three dollars for a signature and autographed photographs for five dollars each.
In his will, Tadeusz Kosciuszko, the Polish patriot who fought in Washington’s army in the American Revolution, specified that the US land tracts he had received should be sold and the money from the sales be used to purchase the freedom of black slaves.
From his own pocket, Superintendent of Finance, Robert Morris, met the American army’s demobilization pay in 1783. He was later thrown into the debtor’s prison, financially ruined in land speculation.
The Swiss philanthropist Henri Dunant devoted so much of his money and his energy to the establishment of the Red Cross that his textile business failed, and he became penniless. He was a cowinner of the first Nobel Peace Prize, in 1901, and left all of the prize money to charities, not to his family.
After reading all of these examples it just proves to me that generosity has always been around but in many cases, never acknowledged. It’s nice to know there’s a certain percentage of the population willing to make pesonal sacrifices to help others. That’s a Christmas wish if there ever was one.
Continuing the Christmas theme for this week, here are a group of Christmas limericks collected from far and wide places. I hope they put a holiday grin on your face.
I thought I would continue my Christmas craziness today with a description of my better-half’s last two weeks of Christmas preparation. I’m not a huge Christmas person but my better half is the poster girl for Christmas insanity. It all started approximately two and a half weeks ago when she began unloading the attic with a never-ending pile of boxes containing thirty years of Christmas paraphernalia. It’s not that she wanted to use all of that stuff to decorate the house but the more she looks through those boxes the more decorations magically begin to appear everywhere. I may lose my every so merry mind. There are wreaths on the front door, garage doors, across the deck which is also strung with yards and yards of tinsel and lights. I think I now have one of the largest collections of extension cords in this part of Maine. I’m so proud!
I need a short break from all this holiday cheer. Try to answer these five Christmas movie trivia questions. Are you a serious elf or just a poser? I’ll list the answers at the end.
In “A Christmas Story”, who gifts Ralphie a pink bunny onesie for Christmas?
In “How the Grinch Stole Christmas”, what is the name of the Grinch’s dog?
In “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation”, how many lights are on the Griswold house?
In “The Nightmare Before Christmas”, what does Jack Skellington call Santa?
What is the highest-grossing Christmas movie of all time?
This is what my elf wants our house to eventually look like.
Let me say again that of this morning fully fifty percent of every surface in the house has something Christmassy on it. All the windows are decorated, small statuettes of every Christmas figure you could possibly think of are sitting on every piece of furniture within my field of vision. Help! I’m being held prisoner in Santas southern vacation home, and I can’t escape. There’s only one elf living here, and she is out-of-control. I’m reasonably sure if I stood still for more than five minutes, I’d have yards of tinsel hanging from my body with an appropriate number of silly little ornaments and bells attached. If I stood still for a full ten minutes, I guarantee she’d find a way to have flashing lights wrapped around me and twinkling “Oh So Merrily”. My only refuge from the Christmas madness is my man-cave. She has yet to visit there and I’m guarding the door to keep her out. Three more weeks of this and I’ll probably make the nightly news. I’ll be the guy dressed like Santa Clause threating to jump off the nearest bridge in Portland, Maine, “Film at Eleven!” Oh yeah . . . here are your trivia answers. How did you do?
Answers: Aunt Clara, Max, 25,000, Sandy Claws, Home Alone
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