Archive for the ‘Looking Back’ Category
I’m big on noticing things no matter where I am or what else I may seem to be doing. I pay attention to what I see and also to what I hear. Within the last few years I’ve noticed a trend I’d like to talk about. Is it me or are the youngest of our generations indiscriminately using the word “love” or the phrase “I love you” too much. It seems that way to me.
In my younger days my generation was more likely to say “I like you.” than “I love you.” Using those famous “three little words” was a serious matter. The word “love” wasn’t cast about to just anyone. Maybe these newer generations have overused the word “like” until it no longer has any real meaning to them. “Like me on Twitter”, “Like me on Facebook”, OMG, stop the madness. The only word they have left to convey feelings is “love” and they are using and abusing it much as they’ve done with “like”. We as a society seem to be wearing out our language. Can anyone out there suggest a new word we can all use in explaining our feelings for someone that isn’t “like or love”? I can’t.
I’m bothered by the term "I love you." I never worried about it as a kid because it was against the rules in our house to admit loving anyone or anything. It wasn’t until I turned twelve that it became an issue for the first time for me. I fell into a state of hormonal excitement and arousal that was almost more than I could handle. In those days if a girl even walked by me quickly, the breeze from her passing could and did cause the occasional embarrassing erection (the good old days).
Around that time I slow danced for the first time with a girl at a local pool hall where we spent our lunch breaks. There were no parents around to tell us to "leave space for the Holy Spirit" between our bodies and we didn’t. That was back in the day of bras that later motivated Madonna to slut it up with her torpedo boobs. I can still hear the song that was playing, Sixteen Candles, and can still feel those hard and pointy boobs pressing against my neck. You see, she was a bit taller than I (lucky me). I was in love or so I thought and it was really really good. I’d finally found the promised land and now that I was there I had no idea what to do next. So began my endless journey to find more true love and maybe just maybe understand it.
Saying “I love you” is the proverbial double edged sword. In order to convince a young lady to permit the occasional touching of her breasts or the touching of other more important things, you had to say those magic words. If you made the mistake of saying "the words" based on your testosterone enhanced mental state, you were truly screwed and not in a good way. It was an informal commitment made in the heat of the moment that was damn difficult to recover from. The physical rewards were out-weighed by all of the time and effort spent in trying to untangle yourself from someone whose attraction lessened with each touch of her private parts.
As any man will confirm, our youth was a continuous stream of such encounters which eventually made the term "I love you" a real no-no. If you were lucky enough to escape any incidents of accidental pregnancy you moved on into young adulthood with an even bigger fear of saying “the words”.
The next stage of development into those dreaded teenage years was to actually find yourself involved sexually with someone who was a tremendous bed partner but lacked in other areas. If you said “the words” after a few months of constantly screwing her then you opened yourself up for even more problems. The casual hints, the accidental walking by of a jewelry store and noticing all the beautiful engagement rings. Danger . . . Danger!!! One fatal step closer to the dreaded "M" word, marriage. Again saying “the words” remained a huge negative but if you avoided the accidental pregnancy issue, it still might take you months to finally escape her clutches.
Move ahead a few more years and many things have again changed. Saying ‘the words” had not. Now the women are older, their biological clocks are ticking, and the fear of never finding that illusive soul-mate is driving them to take desperate measures. Then they start casually throwing the “L” words around in an attempt to entrap you when you answer in kind during a heated sexual encounter. Danger . . . Danger! Keeping your mouth shut should be your first line of protection. Be sure to use latex protection during your sexual explorations because there are certain women out there who could or would consider becoming pregnant just to reach their fairy tale ending.
Move ahead a few more years and you’re newly divorced but lucky enough to have no children to muck up the situation. “The words” again come into play as you wander far and wide through an endless number of single mom’s, divorced mom’s, and the occasional married woman looking for any action she can find. Relationships are a minefield you must must tiptoe through, it’s a dangerous game and not for the faint of heart.
We’ve come a long way from that first dance I mentioned but “the words” still don’t come easily. Now you find yourself headed for a possible second marriage where someone else’s children are included and possibly a few of your own from your first marriage. Your new marriage requires that at a minimum you use “the words” during your occasional sexual encounters. You’re finally in a place where you should be saying “the words” on a regular basis but they’re still difficult to put out there.
So what are my conclusions? I think that the battering most of us take as we grow up, have relationships, get married, and have children takes it’s toll on us emotionally. The fact that we continue to seek that “love” says a lot for our perseverance and our desire to have someone truly love us back. All of the younger generations who throw the “L” word around so easily will find out very quickly how important it really is. Getting your heart broken a few times will then teach them to speak carefully about love and maybe just “liking” someone is the way to go.
As I frequently do, I wander aimlessly around the Net looking for inspiration. Unfortunately most of the information available is either nonsense or BS. It only becomes relevant after I’m able to put it into context for all of you. Dealing with people on the Net takes a great deal of skill, intuition, and luck. Great care must be taken because dangers lurk in the oddest places. I trained for decades to interview people, read body language, and to make a determination of their guilt or innocence. Trying to do that same thing on the Net is an almost impossible task. Since I can’t meet face-to-face and I can’t trust photographs any longer, what should I do?
The following list of questions I discovered a few weeks ago and after some necessary editing are ready for my use. They may seem mundane and boring but are they really? The “devil is in the details” is a saying I’ve learned to appreciate over the years. One small piece of information added to another and then another can result in clarification and understanding much like a jigsaw puzzle.
I want my readers to understand me. It’s the wish of almost every other human being on the planet that someone “gets us”. I’m going to list one hundred really stupid and simple questions and then post my answers as well. If you read them all and then bundle them into one huge ball of useless information, you just might have a better understanding of me. It may work or it may not but you’ll never know until you give it a try. To test it further ask a friend, lover, or family member to answer them. You might be surprised to find out they’re not exactly the person you thought. Here we go.
1. Do you sleep with your closet doors open or closed? Open.
2. Do you take the shampoos and conditioner bottles from hotel? Yes.
3:Do you sleep with your sheets tucked in or out? Tucked out.
4:Have you ever stolen a street sign? Yes
5:Do you like to use post-it notes? Yes, both paper and computerized.
6:Do you cut out coupons but then never use them? No, I hate coupons.
7:Would you rather be attacked by a big bear or a swarm of a bees? Bees, at least I’d survive.
8:Do you have freckles? A few scattered here and there.
9:Do you always smile for pictures? No, I hate being photographed.
10:What is your biggest pet peeve? People who talk-over me while in conversation.
11:Do you ever count your steps when you walk? Almost always.
12:Have you ever peed in the woods? Yes, it’s the best.
13:What about pooped in the woods? I have but it’s unpleasant.
14:Do you ever dance even if there’s no music playing? Only when I’m alone.
15:Do you chew your pens and pencils? Only pencils.
16:How many people have you slept with this week? Does my cat count? If he does then “2”.
17:What size is your bed? Queen.
18:What is your Song of the week? Born to die – Lana del Ray
19:Is it okay for guys to wear pink? Yes.
20:Do you still watch cartoons? Almost never.
21:What’s your least favorite movie? Anything with Will Ferrell in it.
22:Where would you bury hidden treasure if you had some? None of your business. It’s called ‘hidden treasure’ for a reason.
23:What do you drink with dinner? Seltzer Water
24:What do you dip a chicken nugget in? Ketchup.
25:What is your favorite food? Hamburgers.
26:What movies could you watch over and over and still love? Anything prior to 1950.
27:Last person you kissed/kissed you? My better-half.
28:Were you ever a boy/girl scout? Yes.
29:Would you ever strip or pose nude in a magazine? No, it might scare people.
30:When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper? 1990.
31:Can you change the oil on a car? Yes.
32:Ever gotten a speeding ticket? Oh yeah.
33:Ever ran out of gas? Once in 1975.
34:Favorite kind of sandwich? BLT, with lots of B.
35:Best thing to eat for breakfast? Bacon, eggs, toast, and coffee.
36:What is your usual bedtime? 11 PM.
37:Are you lazy? No.
38:When you were a kid, what did you dress up as for Halloween? At 45, I was Woody Allen.
39. Who is your favorite dead singer? Levon Helm
40:How many languages can you speak? 1.5
41:Do you have any magazine subscriptions? Yes, one.
42:Which are better Legos or Lincoln logs? Legos.
43:Are you stubborn? Yes.
44:Who is better…Leno or Letterman? Johnny Carson.
45:Ever watch soap operas? I used to.
46:Are you afraid of heights? Not really, no.
47:Do you sing in the car? Sometimes.
48:Do you sing in the shower? No.
49: Do you sleep clothed or naked? Naked.
50:Ever used a gun? Yes.
51:Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer? I was two years old.
52:Do you think musicals are cheesy? Some are, some not.
53:Is Christmas stressful? Yes, it’s a pain in the ass.
54:Ever eat a pierogi? Hundreds of times, Yummmm!
55:Favorite type of fruit pie? Apple.
56:Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid? Archeologist.
57:Do you believe in ghosts? No.
58:Ever have a Deja-vu feeling? Yes.
59:Take a vitamin daily? Yes.
60:Wear slippers? Yes.
61:Wear a bath robe? Not really.
62: How old were you when you lost your virginity? 14.
63:First concert? Harry Chapin.
64:Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart? Walmart, to people watch.
65:Nike or Adidas? Dr. Scholl
66:Cheetos Or Fritos? Cape Cod Potato Chips.
67:Peanuts or Sunflower seeds? Cashews.
68:Ever hear of the group Tres Bien? Hell no.
69:Ever take dance lessons? Yes. as a kid, 3 years.
70:Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing? No, there won’t be a future spouse.
71:Can you curl your tongue? Yes, and I know how to use it too.
72:Ever won a spelling bee? No.
73:Have you ever cried because you were so happy? Yes, at my divorce hearing.
74:Own any record albums? Yes, vinyl and CD’s.
75:Own a record player? Yes.
76:Regularly burn incense? Yes.
77:Ever been in love? Yes.
78:Who would you like to see in concert? Celine Dion.
79:How many tattoos do you have? Six small ones.
80:Hot tea or cold tea? Hot.
81:Tea or coffee? Coffee.
82:Sugar or snickerdoodles? Sweet’n’Low
83:Can you swim well? Yes.
84:Can you hold your breath without holding your nose? Yes.
85:Are you patient? Not really.
86:DJ or band, at a wedding? DJ.
87:Ever won a contest? Yes.
88:Ever have plastic surgery? No.
89:Which are better black or green olives? Green.
90:Can you knit or crochet? Neither.
91:Best room for a fireplace? Bed room.
92:Do you want to get married? Never again.
93. Do you wear glasses? Yes.
94:Who was your HS crush? Beth.
95:Do you ever cry and throw a fit until you get your own way? Only as an infant.
96:Do you have kids? Yes.
97:Do you want kids? No more thank you very much.
98:What’s your favorite color? Blue.
99:Do you miss anyone right now? Yes.
100: Have you ever been stung by a bee? Yes.
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There you have it. My screwed up and over-explained personality in a nutshell. Remove a few of these questions and add your own. Personalize it as much as you think is necessary. Then have a few of your friends compete the questions and invite them over for a few bottles of wine and a group discussion. It might be a great deal of fun but even if it isn’t make sure you’re serving a really good wine.
I remember growing up in a time when newspapers ruled the world. Nothing was true unless it was in the paper and each morning people scrambled for the morning news. It was a time when two deliveries of a newspaper was the norm, the morning edition at 6am and another delivered in the early evening. I had an up close and personal relationship with our daily paper, The Valley Daily News, because I was one of it’s part-time carriers. I always felt so damn important as I made my rounds delivering the latest news to all of my friends and neighbors. For me it was a big deal.
I can still remember rushing to the pile of papers as they were tossed off the delivery truck to catch a quick peek at the day’s headlines. It was exciting for a dumb kid like me to be the first to get the scoop of the day.
The quality of the writing seemed much more professional then than some of the stuff I’m reading these days. In my humble opinion our improved technologies and the birth of the Internet have brought the quality of articles and headlines to a very low level. The daily barrage of news these days wears on a person. It’s a constant drumbeat 24 hours a day and it’s annoying as well as redundant.
Back in the day writing was a serious profession and the writing of headlines was almost as important as the articles themselves. I offer for your amusement the following collection of headlines from recent years and various newspapers. Not only do the headlines suck but the editor’s who allowed them to be sent to print should be ashamed. Here we go.
IRAQI HEAD SEEKS ARMS
QUEEN MARY HAVING BOTTOM SCRAPED
IS THERE A RING OF DEBRIS AROUND URANUS?
PROSTITUTES APPEAL TO POPE
PANDA MATING FAILS – VETERINARIAN TAKES OVER
NJ JUDGE TO RULE ON NUDE BEACH
CHILD’S STOOL GREAT FOR USE IN GARDEN
DR. RUTH TO TALK ABOUT SEX WITH NEWSPAPER EDITORS
SOVIET VIRGIN LANDS SHORT OF GOAL AGAIN
ORGAN FESTIVAL ENDS IN SMASHING CLIMAX
EYE DROPS OFF SHELF
SQUAD HELPS DOG BITE VICTIM
DEALERS WILL HEAR CAR TALK AT NOON
ENRAGED COW INJURES FARMER WITH AX
LAWMEN FROM MEXICO BARBECUE GUESTS
You just can’t make this stuff up. For as long as the Net prospers so will my coffers of stupid remain full. Long live the Internet.
I love the English language. I jut wanted to put that out there to help readers understand this blog is not TWITTER. Here at Every Useless Thing we need way more than 140 characters to make a point. The Twitter language which has been developing for the youngest of the sound bite generations leaves me #effingcold. If you’re a constant Twitter user then you’ve already begun to think in their terms as well as write that way. Twitter is in too much of a hurry for me which results in a blog here that’s comfortable to read and comment on. Relax, enjoy and don’t stress out trying to get all of your thoughts on a complex subject jammed into 140 characters. Let’s begin.
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One of the more interesting things for me in the language are palindromes. For those of you who don’t know, palindromes are words or phrases that spell the same forward and backward. The palindromic words are cool but the phrases are mind boggling.
Two Words
Dump mud.
Party trap
Stack cats.
Short Phrases
Never odd or even.
Live not on evil.
Pa’s a sap.
Pull up, Bob, pull up.
Crazy Phrases
We panic in a pew.
Mr. Owl ate my metal worm.
Did Mom poop? Mom did.
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I’ve always been a big fan of Harry S. Truman. A down-to-earth president who had the unique ability to cut right threw the normal political BS and get to the point. Reporters in those days must have loved covering him. Here’s one of my favorite Truman quotes:
“Never kick a fresh turd on a hot day”
Another of my favorites was H. L. Mencken. I’m especially awed by anyone who can become so famous that his words and phrases are quoted endlessly by millions of people. He was something I’ve aspired to be my whole life. A genuine “wise ass”. Here’s a few of his more interesting thoughts:
“Democracy is the art of running the circus from the monkey cage.”
A statement more true now than ever before in our history. Here’s another:
“A cynic is a man who, when he smells flowers, looks around for a coffin.”
I’ve been called a cynic by some and I wear that as a badge of honor. Without we cynics everyone would be an idealist. Mencken had a thought about them as well.
“An idealist is one who, on noticing that a rose smells better than a cabbage, concludes that it will also make better soup.”
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Here’s an interesting Star Wars factoid. The name of R2-D2 came about while George Lucas was filming American Graffiti. During a sound-mixing session, editor Walter Murch asked him for R2, D2 (Reel 2, Dialogue 2) of the film. Lucas liked the name so much that he made a note of it, and eventually found the right character for it.
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What famous Hollywood comedian said the following": “I learned about sex watching neighborhood dogs. The most important thing I learned was: Never let go of the girl’s leg no matter how hard she tries to shake you off.
nitraM evetS
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That’s enough of this mind numbing useless crap for today. There’s much more to come in the future and I’m sure you’re thrilled to death knowing that. Over and out from a cynical wiseass.
I grew up during the post WW II era period and I remember seeing Kilroy graffiti many times as a kid and later after my enlistment in the Army. I never knew the history behind it and never felt the need to find out. There was even a time or two when I painted that logo on a wall while stationed on bases in the US and even after my assignment to Korea I managed to leave Kilroy here and there. I’m sure many of you have seen Kilroy over the years and now it’s time to tell the whole story. Thanks to my friend Park from Kansas City who supplied much of this information.
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You can find his likeness engraved in stone in the National War Memorial in Washington , DC at the rear of a small alcove where very few people have seen it. For the WWII generation, this brings back memories. For us younger folks, it’s a bit of trivia that is a part of our American history. Anyone born in 1913 to about 1950, is familiar with Kilroy. No one knew why he was so well known but everybody seemed to get into it. So who was Kilroy?
In 1946 (the year I as born) the American Transit Association, through its radio program, "Speak to America ," sponsored a nationwide contest to find the real Kilroy, offering a prize of a real trolley car to the person who could prove himself to be the genuine article. Almost 40 men stepped forward to make that claim, but only James Kilroy from Halifax , Massachusetts , had evidence of his identity.
‘Kilroy’ was a 46-year old shipyard worker during the war who worked as a checker at the Fore River Shipyard in Quincy, MA . His job was to check on the number of rivets completed. Riveters were on piecework pay scale and got paid by the rivet. He would count a block of rivets and put a check mark in semi-waxed lumber chalk, so the rivets wouldn’t be counted twice. When Kilroy went off duty, some larcenous riveters would erase the mark. Later on, an off-shift inspector would come through again and count the rivets for a second time, resulting in double pay for those cheating riveters.
One day Kilroy’s boss called him into his office. The foreman was upset about all the wages being paid to riveters and asked him to investigate. It was then he realized what had been going on. The many tight spaces he was required to crawl into didn’t lend themselves to lugging around a paint can and brush, so Kilroy decided to stick with the waxy chalk. He continued to put his check mark on each job he inspected but added ‘KILROY WAS HERE’ in king-sized letters next to the check. He eventually added the sketch of the chap with the long nose peering over the fence and that became part of the Kilroy message.
Once he did that, the cheating riveters stopped trying to wipe away his marks. Ordinarily the rivets and chalk marks would have been covered up with paint but with the war on, however, ships were leaving the Quincy Yard so fast that there wasn’t time to paint them. As a result, Kilroy’s inspection "trademark" was seen by thousands of servicemen who boarded the troopships that the yard produced.
His message apparently rang a bell with our servicemen because they picked it up and spread it all over Europe and the South Pacific.
Before war’s end, "Kilroy" had been here, there, and everywhere on the long hauls to Berlin and Tokyo . To the troops outbound in those ships, however, he was a complete mystery; all they knew for sure was that someone named Kilroy had "been there first." As a joke, U.S. servicemen began placing the graffiti wherever they landed, claiming it was already there when they arrived.
Kilroy became the U.S. super- G I who had always "already been" wherever GI’s went. It became a challenge to place the logo in the most unlikely places imaginable (it is said to be atop Mt. Everest , the Statue of Liberty , the underside of the Arc de Triumphe, and even scrawled in the dust on the moon.
As the war went on, the legend grew. Underwater demolition teams routinely sneaked ashore on Japanese held islands in the Pacific to map the terrain for coming invasions by U.S. troops (and thus, presumably, were the first GI’s there). On one occasion, however, they reported seeing enemy troops painting over the Kilroy logo!
In 1945, an outhouse was built for the exclusive use of Roosevelt, Stalin, and Churchill at the Potsdam conference. Its’ first occupant was Stalin, who emerged and asked his aide (in Russian), "Who is Kilroy?"
To help prove his authenticity in 1946, James Kilroy brought along officials from the shipyard and some of the riveters. He won the trolley car, which he gave to his nine children as a Christmas gift and set it up as a playhouse in the Kilroy yard in Halifax , Massachusetts .
And The Tradition Continues…
EVEN Outside Osama Bin Laden’s House!!!
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There you have it. Now you know.
I’ll begin celebrating today after posting this blog entry. When I retired the Anti-Stupidity Blog one year ago I challenged myself to start a new blog and to write for one year, 365 posts, without missing a day and not using graphics, catchy and cutesy headlines or photographs. It sounded easy at the time but it was anything but.
I needed a lot of willpower but after the first six months my reserve of motivation was almost exhausted. I worked through it and today that challenge and goal have been met.
I’ll start fresh on October 27th (tomorrow) with an better outlook and a return to what some consider normalcy in blogging. I’ll use the occasional photograph or two in the future but not gratuitously. The majority of these photo’s will be those I’ve taken myself. I’ll be adding a word or two in addition to the date to indicate the general content of each post. Since I’ve become somewhat addicted to this style of posting it will continue this way for the foreseeable future.
I’m looking forward to the next year and I hope you are as well. Tomorrow will be the start of something a little different but the endless quantities of totally useless information will continue. The trivia quizzes will return and number of new twists can be expected there. I’ll continue to comment on celebrities and their unusual activities, other inappropriate humor, and as many dirty and filthy limericks as I can find or create. I’ll do the occasional book review and anything else that catches my fancy.
The world is my oyster and I’ll keep searching for those proverbial pearls of wisdom to pass on to you. Onward and Upward!
Are you superstitious? Do you believe that by doing something in particular bad things could happen. Or maybe even good things? It seems that in every community, state, and country there are hundreds of these ridiculous superstitions passed down from generation to generation. "Step on a crack and break your mother’s back" was one of the ones I specifically remember from my childhood. It had been jumping over and walking around sidewalk cracks for years and I’m still not sure why.
Like I didn’t have other things to worry about at that age. My concerns at that time were how to meet girls, how to get a date, acne, and will I play well in the big game tomorrow. Instead I was worried about walking under ladders, seeing black cats or breaking a mirror. Why? No one seems to know why we’re loaded up with all this nonsense at such an early age by both family and friends who are supposed to care about us. It’s just crazy.
I’m going to supply you with a short list of some of the good old standby’s and then a second shorter list of some odd ones from around the world.
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Two people breaking a wishbone is said to lead to good luck for the person with the larger piece.
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Opening an umbrella indoors is said to result in 21 days of bad luck. Some traditions hold that it is only bad luck if the umbrella is placed over the head of someone while indoors.
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If one walks underneath an open ladder it is said to bring bad luck. Sometimes it is said that this can be undone by immediately walking backwards back underneath the ladder.
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Breaking a mirror is said to bring bad luck for 7 years. To "undo" this, take the shards of glass and bury them underneath the moonlight. In ancient times, the mirror was said to be a window to the viewer’s soul.
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The superstitious symbolism of a black cat crossing one’s path is dependent upon culture: some cultures consider this a sign of impending bad luck, while some cultures consider this a sign of impending good luck.
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Once a wedding ring has been placed on the finger, it is considered bad luck to remove it.
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At times, a horseshoe may be found above doorways. When positioned like a regular ‘U’ it supposedly collects luck. However, when it is positioned like an upside-down ‘U’ the luck supposedly drains.
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Many believe that if all of the candles on a birthday cake are blown out with one breath, while making a silent wish, the wish will come true.
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When you speak of bad luck, it is said that one should always knock on wood. Also knocking when speaking of good luck apparently helps with having good luck. This is an old Celtic tradition related to belief of wood spirits.
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If you catch a falling leaf on the first day of autumn you will not catch a cold all winter.
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It’s bad luck to leave a house through a different door than the one used to come in.
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An acorn should be carried to bring luck and ensure a long life.
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Pirates around the world believed that piercing the ears with such precious metals as silver and gold improved one’s eyesight.
Amber beads, worn as a necklace, can protect against illness or cure colds.
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There are numerous sailors’ superstitions, such as: it is considered bad luck for a ship to set sail on a Friday, to bring anything blue aboard, to stick a knife into the deck, to leave a hatch cover upside-down, to say "pig", or to eat walnuts aboard, and to sail with a woman on board.
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In Russia it is believed that before traveling a person should, apparently, sit on their luggage.
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In Sweden it is believed that if you collect seven or nine different flowers on midsummer eve and place them under your pillow, you will dream of your future spouse.
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It is bad luck in Great Britain to put new shoes on a bed or a table (this comes from the tradition of dressing a corpse in new clothes and shoes and laying them out so everyone can give their respects).
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Placing keys on a table in Sweden is considered unlucky.
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Placing a hat on the bed is, apparently, bad luck in certain European countries.
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In some parts of England, rum is used to wash a baby’s head for good luck.
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According to an age old custom, carrying a dead shrew in your pocket wards off rheumatism.
Just to be on the safe side you should write these all down and take time to memorize them. Then when the time is right pass them on to your children and grandchildren. It’s only fair that we do our part in keeping these really stupid traditions alive.
Someday when you have a free moment take a seat near a sidewalk and relax with a hot cup of coffee. Then watch the passers-by and see how many refuse to step on the sidewalk cracks. You’ll be amazed.
I’ve spent most of my adult life working with an odd assortment of people. I was an investigator in the Army which required me to interrogate people who spoke little or no English through an interpreter. A difficult task at best since many times the interpreter only knew enough English to get by. Years later as a police officer I was introduced to a host of criminal types, drug users, child abusers, and perverts. The first and most important thing during those interviews and interrogations required a reasonable knowledge of the subjects motivations and state of mind. For the most part it was an interesting and emotionally draining experience.
I had an excellent rate of success in my endeavors because I was able to develop a quick rapport with my subjects in a very short period of time. This remained the case through more than ten thousand interviews conducted in the years just prior to my retirement. I felt I had the ability to interrogate, interview, and understand anyone regardless of the situation. I was flexible enough to adapt to their way of thinking, find the problem, and fix it with a minimum of effort. Was I over confident? I didn’t think so at the time but I do now.
I finally met my match recently when I was dropped into a situation that befuddled me. I had little or no experience with young children and when my step-grandson was born my education in dealing with people took a strange turn. He communicates with his world of adults during this first year without language. He uses hand gestures and a collection of facial expressions to get his messages across which continue to puzzle most of us. He’s within a month or two from actually speaking understandable words and he’s currently babbling a constant stream of unintelligible nonsense. It appears to make some sort of sense to him but leaves us adults dazed and confused.
My best chance of understanding him will occur once he decides to start saying something I can understand. I decided to do a little more research into the mind set of a very young person who has no apparent life experience to draw from. How tough can it be I asked? Where do I start? I found the following article while surfing the Net and as soon as I read it I knew it held the answers I’d been looking for. A simple and brief list of how the mind of a very young child is motivated and feels about the things and people around them. The list is funny but without a doubt as close to the truth as I could find. See what you think.
1. If I like it, it’s mine.
2. If it’s in my hand, it’s mine.
3. If I can take it from you, it’s mine.
4. If I had it a little while ago, it’s mine.
5. If it’s mine, it must never appear to be yours in any way.
6. If I’m doing or building something, all of the pieces are mine.
7. If it looks like mine, it’s mine.
8. If I saw it first, it’s mine.
9. If you are playing with something and you put it down, it
automatically becomes mine.
10. If it’s broken, it’s yours.
I’m going to post a copy of this list on my frig and read it as many times as necessary each and every time the little guy pisses me off or does something inappropriate. This list explains everything in a way even I can understand. Be patient, no screaming or yelling, and no punishing for things he doesn’t yet understand. Just stand back and gently guide him in the direction we want him to go. They’ll be plenty of time later for guidance and instructions once he can talk and reply. Being able to speak and ask questions will make things so much easier for us both (I hope).
Being the first born grandchild in a family is a nice place to find yourself. I was the first born grandchild in my family and I milked it for all it was worth with my grandparents. I’m about to experience the whole thing again but from the opposite perspective. It should be interesting.
Why are farts and farting so funny? I don’t have the answer to that either but you have to admit the subject is always hilarious and 99% of the population would agree. As I’ve traveled around I’ve become attuned over time to those particular body movements when one is on the way and the ever so unusual sounds used in attempts to disguise those SBD’s (Silent But Deadly).
Yesterday was a good example. I stopped by a local Target store to pickup a few items. The place was crowded with the normal assortment of customers all roaming around doing shopping stuff. I was walking through the Kitchen Department minding my own business when I walked into a cloud of what can only be called toxic fumes. About five steps away from me was the only other occupant of the aisle and the obvious depositor of that nasty gas cloud. She refused to look at me and stood quietly staring at her shoes. If she thought playing possum was going to work she had another think coming. I slowly edged toward her as I was pretending to peruse the items on the shelf hoping to pull the cloud along with me. Of course I was holding my breath the entire time. She waited until I was very close and then glanced my way and smiled a cutesy little grin. She then squirmed a little which should have been a red flag for me and quickly walked away. I took one additional step and got nailed by another fart cloud that was so bad my eyes began watering and making it impossible to see for a few seconds. The perp had disappeared in that cloud of noxious fumes after her successful double ambush. She was one of those perverted types who love to stick around to watch their victims suffer. For someone so young she was a real pro.
My father would have been so proud of her. He was a master of filling an aisle with a nasty fart and then walking away. His farts had a "hang time" of five or six minutes which I’ve never been able to duplicate. He would stand in the next aisle and get off listening to the people gag and curse as they were enveloped. He never felt the need to stick around and see his results in person.
I felt a little violated and somewhat disgusted by her cowardly act of fart terrorism. I decided to do the normal and well thought out thing, revenge. It was time to locate and identify another unsuspecting victim and pass it on.
You need to remember that for the last two months I’ve been strictly following a diet which requires that I eat tons of vegetables. I’ve become a stinky, nasty, and disgusting fart machine. I no longer have total control of my farting and seem to be farting non-stop most of the time. I walked into the Cosmetic Department and settled in to lay my trap. An older woman and her two young daughters made the mistake of cruising through the danger zone. I laid down a path of cucumber and onion gas that was so bad I had to leave immediately. I stood nearby and waited and discovered that Mom had some mouth on her. She was gagging and cursing loudly and the two girls immediately fled the scene. They wanted that to avoid the gas cloud and also the embarrassment of their Mommy’s trash mouth. I freaking loved it.
You have to admit, that was damn funny. I know my later father is up there in heaven (maybe) and laughing his ass off. He was always big on upholding family traditions and would be happy as hell to see that I’m still carrying on one of his favorites. Now for a funny fart joke and I’m done for today.
Doctor, "What seems to be the problem?"
Patient, "Doc, I’ve got the farts. I mean I fart all the time."
The Doctor nods, "Hmm."
Patient, "My farts do not stink and you can’t hear them. It’s just that I fart all the time. Look, we’ve been talking here for about 10 minutes and I’ve farted five times. You didn’t hear them and you don’t smell them, do you?"
"Hmm," says the Doctor.
He picks up his pad and writes out a prescription.
The patient is thrilled "Great doc. This prescription, will it really clear up my farts?"
"No," sighs the Doctor, "The prescription is to clear your sinuses. Next week I want you back here for a hearing test."
One last tidbit of a few new fart euphemisms I stumbled upon:
Mud Duck
Trouser Cough
Crack Splitters
Turd Tooties
Anal Audio
Great Brown Cloud
Have a wonderful day and be careful out there. You’ll never know which aisle will be “The One” until it’s too late.
I’ve spent the last year being educated by my better-half’s daughter’s pregnancy and subsequent child birth. It was quite a project from start to finish and the costs for one child being born seem to be skyrocketing each year. Hospital costs, pre and post natal costs, home improvement costs (nursery setup), and of course the never ending supply of baby food, clothing, and diapers. It’s an easy matter to drop a couple of grand to outfit the child with a bassinette, crib, high chair, walker, and the unending need for more and more toys. I haven’t tallied up a grand total because it would be more than a little scary and really depressing.
With regular visits anticipated from the kid we were also required to double up on some the necessary equipment for our home just to make life easier on all concerned. We now have a crib and enough toys to outfit a small orphanage at our place which I have the painful pleasure of tripping over if I’m not careful. I won’t even get into the costs for car seats which are just ridiculous. Have you gotten my point yet? It’s a freaking expensive proposition.
I happened upon an interesting article that might help put things into perspective. The following list was contained in an 1857 Manual of Domestic Economy and its quite a bit different than our modern day list of required goodies for newborns. Have a look.
* * *
1. A low chair, with or without rockers.
2. A footstool.
3. Two thick flannel aprons.
4. One large washing basin.
5. One soap-dish and soap (best yellow or white curd).
6. One small enamel saucepan.
7. One semi-porcelain pipkin (a small earthen pot) and lamp.
8. One pap-boat (silver or crockery).
9. One feeding-bottle, with two or three nipples.
10. One small jug.
11. One teaspoon and one desert-spoon.
12. One small pot de chamber, with two flannel covers.
The above list was intended for a baby’s first month. Semi-porcelain pipkin and lamp was “a most useful modern invention” used to warm water and food. The pap-boat was used to “force” the baby to take disagreeables, either in the shape of food or medicine. The nipples on the feeding bottle should be India-rubber, preferred to the traditional hollowed-out cow teat or sewn-up wash-leather both of which were liable to become semi-putrid.
* * *
Some of the terms mentioned were strange and the item names ever stranger. It would probably take me forever to compile a current list of the items required these days for the babies first month. It would be exhausting and just too much work to even attempt. I have to admit it’s much better to be collateral damage from someone else’s pregnancy than having one of your own. Thank God for menopause.
