Grampa's First - And Last - Science Talk To The Fourth Graders

So! Who here can tell me how the sperm whale got its name?

Time To Get The Ear Trumpet Refitted

I've been delivering meals for a few months now, mostly to overtly end-of-life appellationed non-Edens like "Golden Sunset Mobile Home Park", "Trail's End Mobile Home Park" (punctuation is mine), "Happy Trails Deluxe Mobile Home Park" (liars) and so forth. The 2 1/2 hour route is a real eye opener on old age, solitude and infirmities, making me glad I've gone to such lengths to conscientiously take care of myself (cough, snort).

But it's also the first "job" I've had that people look forward to my showing up, and almost certainly the only job where I can yet be referred to as "that nice young man."

One day a couple of weeks ago, as I was mid-route, pulling Mr C's packages (low sodium, diabetic, no milk), a tall, leggy, astonishingly proportioned young woman sauntered past my truck as I was checking my inventory while loading up my arms. Her sheer white dress appeared to have been applied to her with a paint gun, and she smiled a charming smile and cordially greeted me. I responded "You have a nice day, too!" and trundled across the alleyway trying not to drop anything or drip water onto the signature sheet.

After climbing back into the 'Burb and heading 'round the corner toward my next delivery, I realized she had actually asked if I wanted to "have a date" which, now that I think of it was her way of suggesting I could Have A Nice Day, I guess. Sigh . . . .

Thus It Has Always Been

Society is produced by our wants and government by our wickedness; the former promotes happiness by uniting our affections, the latter promotes negativity by restraining our vices.

The first is a patron, the last a punisher.

Society in every state is a blessing, but government even in its best state is but a necessary evil; in its worst state an intolerable one, for when we suffer, or are exposed to the same miseries by our government which we might expect in a country without government, our calamities are heightened by reflecting on the fact that we furnish the means by which we suffer!

Government, like clothing, is a badge of lost innocence; the palaces of our government are built on the ruins of our paradise.

Tom Paine - Common Sense (paraphrased)

Losing Your/My/Our Religion

From Nic Kristof's column:

The New York Times reported recently on a Pew Research Center poll in which religious people turned out to be remarkably uninformed about religion. Almost half of Catholics didn’t understand Communion. Most Protestants didn’t know that Martin Luther started the Reformation. Almost half of Jews didn’t realize Maimonides was Jewish. And atheists were among the best informed about religion.

So let me give everybody another chance. And given the uproar about Islam, I’ll focus on extremism and fundamentalism — and, as you’ll see, there’s a larger point to this quiz. Note that some questions have more than one correct choice; answers are at the end.

1. Which holy book stipulates that a girl who does not bleed on her wedding night should be stoned to death?
a. Koran
b. Old Testament
c. (Hindu) Upanishads

2. Which holy text declares: “Let there be no compulsion in religion”?
a. Koran
b. Gospel of Matthew
c. Letter of Paul to the Romans

3. The terrorists who pioneered the suicide vest in modern times, and the use of women in terror attacks, were affiliated with which major religion?
a. Islam
b. Christianity
c. Hinduism

4. "Every child is touched by the devil as soon as he is born and this contact makes him cry. Excepted are Mary and her Son.” This verse is from:
a. Letters of Paul to the Corinthians
b. The Book of Revelation
c. An Islamic hadith, or religious tale

5. Which holy text is sympathetic to slavery?
a. Old Testament
b. New Testament
c. Koran

6. In the New Testament, Jesus’ views of homosexuality are:
a. strongly condemnatory
b. forgiving
c. never mentioned

7. Which holy text urges responding to evil with kindness, saying: “repel the evil deed with one which is better.”
a. Gospel of Luke
b. Book of Isaiah
c. Koran

8. Which religious figure preaches tolerance by suggesting that God looks after all peoples and leads them all to their promised lands?
a. Muhammad
b. Amos
c. Jesus

9. Which of these religious leaders was a polygamist?
a. Jacob
b. King David
c. Muhammad

10. What characterizes Muhammad’s behavior toward the Jews of his time?
a. He killed them.
b. He married one.
c. He praised them as a chosen people.

11. Which holy scripture urges that the "little ones" of the enemy be dashed against the stones?
a. Book of Psalms
b. Koran
c. Leviticus

12. Which holy scripture suggests beating wives who misbehave?
a. Koran
b. Letters of Paul to the Corinthians
c. Book of Judges

13. Which religious leader is quoted as commanding women to be silent during services?
a. The first Dalai Lama
b. St. Paul
c. Muhammad

Answers:
1. b. Deuteronomy 22:21.
2. a. Koran, 2:256. But other sections of the Koran do describe coercion.
3. c. Most early suicide bombings were by Tamil Hindus (some secular) in Sri Lanka and India.
4. c. Hadith. Islam teaches that Jesus was a prophet to be revered.
5. All of the above.
6. c. Other parts of the New and Old Testaments object to homosexuality, but there’s no indication of Jesus’ views.
7. c. Koran, 41:34. Jesus says much the same thing in different words.
8. b. Amos 9:7
9. all of them
10. all of these. Muhammad’s Jewish wife was seized in battle, which undermines the spirit of the gesture. By some accounts he had a second Jewish wife as well.
11. a. Psalm 137
12. a. Koran 4:34
13. b. St. Paul, both in 1 Corinthians 14 and 1 Timothy 2, but many scholars believe that neither section was actually written by Paul.

And yes, the point of this little quiz is that religion is more complicated than it sometimes seems, and that we should be wary of rushing to inflammatory conclusions about any faith, especially based on cherry-picking texts. The most crucial element is perhaps not what is in our scriptures, but what is in our hearts.

Get Low

It's a pleasure to watch Robert Duvall, Bill Cobbs, Sissy Spacek and Bill Murray being completely comfortable within their wrinkly wrappers. Duvall, at 78, has the tics and snorts, Bill Cobbs the arthritic hands and stoop, Murray's genial smarm and Sissy still with those eyes like limpid pools you could fall into.

There're no real surprises anywhere in the movie. Anyone can tell at the beginning of every scene who's going to walk in and what's going to happen, but there is a chuckle or two, and as I say, it's fun watching old pros do what they do.

I do wonder why I'm becoming so compassionate toward obstreperous, cranky, crabby old men?

Reasons I Love The Times

From today's "Corrections" section:

"The crossword puzzle on Tuesday gave an erroneous clue for 5 Across, seeking the answer "ESTH," for the Bible's Book of Esther. The clue was incorrect because Esther is not the "only" book in the Bible that does not mention God. Neither does the Song of Solomon."

Somebody Say 'Hallelujah!'

Letters To Editors

I've long thought that most letters to editors are from crackpots. I've not been proved wrong, but here is one from the Times I like:

To the Editor:
Re "A Case of Mental Courage," by David Brooks (column, Aug. 24):
I agree that much of contemporary political discourse has been marked by rampant confirmation bias - the tendency to seek out evidence consistent with our beliefs, and deny dismiss and distort evidence that is not.
Compounding this tendency, as the Princeton University psychologist Emily Pronin has shown, is the fact that virtually all [of] us readily perceive confirmation bias in others, but not in ourselves. We see ourselves as eminently reasonable and those who disagree with us as foolish, deluded or dishonest.
Given that large pockets of talk radio, cable television and the blogosphere on both the extreme left and extreme right feed this confirmation bias by promoting self-assurance rather than self-criticism, it is hardly surprising that the current political environment is more partisan than ever.
Scott O Lilienfeld

Mr L is a psychology professor at Emory University

Love The State, Loathe Its Politicians

Yesterday at the Aerie it was 112.8 degrees at 4:30. Then a storm rolled in from the southwest. We sat out back watching the explosive thunderstorm move across the valley. My runoff barrels overflowed from what ended up being a bit more than a half inch of rain. At six when we went inside the temperature had dropped to 73.

Three Xlnt Movies

"Uncle Teardrop was Jessup's elder and had been a crank chef longer but he'd had a lab go wrong and it had eaten the left ear off his head and burned a savage melted scar down his neck to the middle of his back. There wasn't enough ear nub remaining to hang sunglasses on. The hair around the ear was gone too, and the scar on his neck showed above his collar. Three blue teardrops done in jailhouse ink fell in a row from the corner of the eye on his scarred side. Folks said the teardrops meant he'd three times done grisly prison deeds that needed doing but didn't need to be gabbed about. They said the teardrops told you everything you had to know about the man and the lost ear just repeated it. He generally tried to sit with his melted side toward the wall."

When I heard Daniel Woodrell read that paragraph from his book "Winter's Bone" on Terry Gross's show, I knew I had to read it. I could scarcely put it down. Gripping, vivid, beautifully written, and now an amazing movie too.

I don't remember when I last saw three good movies consecutively, but over the past several days in addition to Winter's Bone the Girl and I went to The Kids Are All Right, which helped me remember what a fabulous actress Annette Bening is, and I took the grandkids to Despicable Me, which I absolutely loved. Every character in the film is sweet and they do 3D right. In fact, tomorrow we're taking the little maggots to see it again as I was alone with the twerps last time. Does that mean I'll be able to say I've seen four great movies in a row? Great movies four times in a row?

The Prince Abides

or

One Of Age's Indignities Postponed

The girl grew up around boats and for many years it was an accepted fact that our summer Sundays would be spent picnicking and skiing with her parents and brother and his family at Desoto Bend or Fremont Lakes or, less often, on the Missouri. Added to those experiences were the almost every summer Thursday afternoons that my buddy and I recruited one or more friends to waterski at Desoto bend. We skied, slalomed, drank barrels of PBR and Old Leg, laughed until our sides hurt and couldn't wait until the next Thursday. Those days ended when we moved to Arizona more than twenty-six years ago.

Here our first boat was a "party barge" that was real stable, held lots of people who could all walk around, had a great sound system and even a charcoal cooker on board, but was it ever so slow. We never did name that one - Pokey the Pontoon, Snail Trail, Glacier Racer were all candidates, but none really took. We had lots of fun but lived 60 miles and 75 minutes away, and eventually two of us co-owners sold it to the third.

Now that we're only 12 miles and twenty minutes away from Canyon Lake, it seemed obvious that we needed another boat. The new (actually, slightly used) craft is a v-hull with a 305 hp Merc. Her go lak hell. It has a big inflatable 4 person sled, a boogie board and (drum roll) skis.

To recap our story so far: former self-acknowledged wunderkind on skis again has access to skis and ski boat - - - - twenty some years later. Another factor in one influential corner is that I had an aftermarket knee installed two years ago, which the Influential Corner doesn't want to go through again. I'm ok with not going through that again, too.

Ok. Long story only slightly longer. Yesterday I recruited my buddy Lar to drive the boat, convinced the Influential Corner to wield the required red flag, slipped on the skis and popped up on the first try. By agreement with the IC I didn't stay up very long, but long enough to prove that Prince Lyle the Magnificent has still got the chops.

Oh, and the name of the new boat? The Nana Gaga.

Movie Reviews

Cyrus - We underestimated the crowd at the only theater showing this quirky little grin, and ended up front row center. The directors use a lot of handheld, unsteady, very tight close-up shots which exacerbated the discomfort of our seating position. But the movie itself has an underlying edge to go along with fairly broad humor, which kept us guessing right up to and past the final scene.

Solitary Man - Crap. As always, Michael Douglas's character is shallow, vapid, self aggrandizing, wooden, obvious and all around disgusting. How this guy even gets parts is beyond me. Even the lovely - and newly available - Ms Susan Sarandon can't bring life to this joyless dreck of a film.

Repectlessness In Today's Yoots

The Scene: Two best buds in the car, running errands.

Grandfather: So. You been reading a lot so far this summer? Lots of science?Astronomy, cosmology? There's some really neat stuff about to happen with the Large Hadron Collider.

Grandson: Ehhh, not so much.

Gf: What?!! That's no good! Well, at least you've been practicing your math skills, right? Axing yerma to make up some problems, just so you can stay in practice?

Gs: Aw jeeeeezzz, gramps.

Gf: What? What!!! You can't just sit there glued to your DS. Your brain's gonna turn into mush! Just because you're on vacation, doesn't mean your brain can go on vacation!!! Ok. Listen up now. What's three squared?

Gs: Nine

Gf: What's three cubed?

Gs: Twenty-seven

Gf: Good. What's five cubed?

Gs: (long pause) one-twenty-five?

Gf: Excellent! What's . . .

Gs: (interrupting) Gramps!

Gf: What.

Gs: What's seventeen cubed?

Gf: (verrrrry long pause) Uhhhhhhhh. (more pause) Fortyeighthundredandthree?

Gs: (thumbing away on his cell phone) Nope.

Gf: Rats.

Gs: (not making eye contact but grinning like the little demon he is) Maybe somebody else's brain is on vacation this summer?

Then & Now

This is now

That was then

The next time I do one of these, our relative positions likely will have changed.

First Day With The Boat

All in all, a pretty good day.

Paid for it; trailered it to Canyon Lake; fastest ride we've ever had in a boat; which ride was not followed by a ride in an ambulance; nobody went home in tears or bleeding (maybe just a little bleeding); less than $1000 damage done.

And the marriage tested but intact.

Let's see how tomorrow goes.

Much Sooner Than We'd Thought

Hi Honey -

Well, it's happened. We knew this day was coming but certainly didn't think it would be so soon. That's right. The grandkids don't need us any more. Their previously doting mother, your daughter, left G home alone this morning while she and Bellaboo went to B's dentist appointment. And when in my shock and consternation I brought up the likelihood that these children appeared to require gubment intervention, your daughter responded in a most unladylike way. Much like, I guess, you or your other daughter might respond. (They sure didn't get those mouths from me.)

Oh well, it'll be just that more time we have to spend on the boat, and we can bump that decimal point in the groceries budget over one place to the left, since they'll be at their own house, ravaging their parents' pantry like a plague of locusts.

I'll miss them, some day. Probably.

"His Head's On Fire-Get Makeup Over Here!"

The same company that sent her (and me) to Athens last year decided they want her to do a commercial for their product, a new, super thin needle to inject insulin. She's a pretty hard sell, but is pumped about this new needle, and agreed, for a ridiculous amount of money, to be filmed describing the merits of the thing.

She told me they'd be at the house this morning at 7, and at 6:45 they began filling up the drive. By seven there were three cars, a pickup and an SUV, all filled with movie type stuff and people. In they came, very nice, very professional, brisk people who knew just what they wanted. They wanted the ping pong room, sans the table.

They covered the east-facing window inside and out, and set up a faux office as a set. The Girl was fabulous, never missing a beat, not seeming to get tired of doing it over and again.

This was supposed to last three hours. In that time I received two reprimands. One for getting a glass of water from the refrigerator door (!) - "We hear everything" - and again when I returned from the bank for having opened the garage door. I tried to make the point that if I had driven out without opening the door it would have been much noisier still, but was shooed out of the area.

About 11 the cry went out for Fresh Meat. Seems they needed someone besides Herself to demonstrate the ease with which the needle slides in and out of the flesh of someone who looks like a patient. She was rather quick to offer me up, I thought, something about "he oughta be good for something, you'd think."

I was seated, posed, straightened, restraightened, desquinted, and then came the above cry from the producer. I was duly and plentifully powdered. A brief discussion ensued on whether the addition of a hat might be necessary to staunch the glare. Other options considered: "Nope." "Not me!" "You ain't stickin' me with no needle." And in not the first instance ever, I was the last resort.

"DON'T look at the camera. All we need is the needle going into your arm." Six, seven times they needed it. But in truth, I really couldn't feel it. This new needle is really sumpin.

I'll be signing autographs in the hall for a couple hours after the show.

Things We Find To Argue About, cont'd

Me: The thing what bothers me is, we got Lost Dutchman Road, we got Lost Dutchman State Park, we got lost dutchman this, lost dutchman that and the other thing. There is NO lost dutchman, only a lost mine! It was the Dutchman's mine that was supposedly lost! Not the Dutchman! See? See! It's this kind of thing that contributes to AJ's not entirely undeserved reputation!

Her: So, it's your position that every single dutchman is accounted for?

Speaking of Chickens

It's Mike the Headless Chicken Day! Below is a link to his life affirming story and tragic end.

http://www.google.com/url?q=http://www.youtube.com/watch%3Fv%3DLqDjRCHyjTY&ei=1QPzS5WgM5LesgPInOSPDA&sa=X&oi=video_result&resnum=10&ct=thumbnail&cad=3359935203785215286&ved=0CEUQuAIwCQ&usg=AFQjCNGNOR0THgQkJEjyrNCzS51nS2CI2A

And do you remember from the Book of World Records the guy who could catch, kill, clean, cook and eat a chicken in two minutes?

Your Lyin' Eyes

I've been thrilled with the 'Life' series on Discovery channel. I don't think I've watched any twenty minutes of it and not seen something I wouldn't have believed if it had been just told to me or if I'd read about it but not seen it for myself.

My brother passed along the clip below, which is not from 'Life' but from the TED series of short lectures, also well worth perusing. If you can watch this clip and not be gobsmacked with amazement, you shouldn't be wasting your time here.

http://www.ted.com/index.php/talks/view/id/206

Random Observations

So, was there any hint that this tenant might not be viable?

Maybe they're just not that into ping pong.

Bigger and Better

When we were kids our parents kept track of our growth on this Hickory Dickory Dock clock chart, which has somehow survived lo these many eons, intact. There's a notation of our lengths and weights at birth, and at birthdays thereafter. The girl and I continued with the chart with our daughters, though since it topped out at five feet, they weren't on it long.

For the last year or so I've been charting the incredible speed at which my grandkids are zooming up the chart. Today, at about 10 1/2 years old, my grandson is 3 1/2 inches taller and 25 pounds heavier than I was at 11.

Beware of Geeks Bearing Grits

One of the women K hobnobs with in Saskatoonia lives in a pleasant little burg and, coming home one evening a couple weeks ago happened to notice that the barbecue cooker was missing from their patio.  No, her husband hadn't loaned it out, but, shoot, with the all the neighbors being friendly and all back-and-forthish, probably someone just needed to borrow it when they weren't home to offer it.  No big deal really.  

And sure enough, the next night it was back, right where it was supposed to be.  The husband went out to check it and low and behold, whomever had borrowed it had thoughtfully left a couple tickets to the theater for that very night, inside, on the grill.

What a nice treat, they thought, wondering who they had to thank for a nice, surprise night out on the town.

They'd really like to know, now, since upon returning they found that almost everything of any value was no longer there.

Converting From Natural Gas to Propane - An Installation

The girl's in Canada and left me in charge of making sure the new stove got installed.

Chris the stove installer got here about 1:30, and with my help got done at 4:30. It was not easy. He used more of my tools than his, and between us we didn't have a '7 mm nut driver' - how can that be? - so I went out on a scavenger hunt for one, eventually finding it at Harbor Freight. Returned to the scene of the crime and the Shiny New Nut Driver's hozzle was too big to fit through the opening we were trying to replace the little nozzles through. That's a run-on sentence with a split infinitive, but most of my infinitives are pretty badly split right now.

Anyhoo, we devised a workaround, didn't scratch anything anyplace she'll ever see, stepped back and fired 'er up. Everything worked terrifical!

Except one of the five burners wouldn't light and I felt pretty sure the flames coming out of the oven door weren't going to be acceptable to the Doyenne of Din-Din. Seems like that was the primary objection for the last one. That and the explosions. And the sound like Niagara Falls leading up to the explosions and the flames coming out the oven door. Minor objections to most, maybe but . . .

So by now my co-installer and I are communicating in terse, clipped sentences. He burns his fingers picking up one of the ceramic top hats on the burners and screams like a 13 year old girl. I stifle a snicker. "Oh" he says "when you were out getting the nut driver that doesn't work, FedEx came by with a package but I didn't want to sign for it so . . . " Holy mother of pearl, those were the leases and security deposit check I promised an owner I'd have today!!

"Just kidding, it's on the floor by your chair."

Back through the instructions which by now make more sense in their original French. I'm thinking I've found yet another handyman who can't read, from the way he stares at the page, twists it back and forth, in and out, so I read it out loud for him. Ahh, he'd missed the part about turning the pressure regulator inside the oven down two and a half turns, and we re-adjusted the sparker gizmo for the non-starting burner and Voila! as we say like to say in the instructions; we gots us a working stove with no visible flames except where they're supposed to be. We agree that the time and gas I burned out shopping were worth something, even disregarding the result. I pays the man and shoos him out the door.

Oust Incumbents (2)

Most of the 535 senators and members of Congress are forced to choose, constantly, between their constituents and their own self-preservation.  Is it really so outside the bounds of human nature to expect congressmen to serve the interests of voters, even when their own re-elections are in jeopardy?  The political system is imperiled mostly because too many politicians just can't seem to imagine any worse fate than losing an election.  A lot of lawmakers still cling to their seats at any cost to conscience or to constituency, as if it were the only job they could ever see themselves holding.

Matt Bai in the Times magazine

Oust Incumbents

There are 13,740 registered lobbyists active in Washington DC.

That's more than 25 per congressman/woman.

Reefing The Granny

from today's Times -

Sometimes The Smallest Things

Lately I’ve been thinking of the things my parents taught me — all those habits that were handed over to me one by one when I was a child. These are the sorts of thoughts I always have when I’m teaching writing, which is partly the act of revealing bad habits to their surprised owners. What got me thinking this time was the discovery that I’ve been tying my shoes wrong for more than half a century.

I’ve been tying a granny knot in my laces, a lopsided knot that tends to come untied even when doubled. It’s the knot my mother taught me. But thanks to a tip on the Internet, I learned that if I wrap the lace around the first bow the opposite way, I get a reef, or square, knot, which lies evenly across the shoe and doesn’t come untied.

(You can see for yourself at http://bit.ly/92NW56.)

I believe that if my mother had known about the reef knot, she would have taught it to me. What mother wants her child’s laces to come undone?

Here’s another example. My dad taught me how to adjust the sideview mirrors on a car. In their reflection, I learned, I should be able to see the edge of the vehicle I’m driving — as though vertigo might set in if I couldn’t locate a mechanical version of myself in the mirror. But this is exactly the setting that creates a blind spot on both sides. There’s a better way (http://bit.ly/cY2dtl). I’ve been using this new setting on the freeways of Los Angeles, and I realize now that I’ve been driving with my mirrors improperly adjusted for more than 40 years.

These are small things. They’re also deeply embedded and as close to unconscious as learned acts can be. To tie a reef knot in my laces, I have to try to tie a reef knot. That means beginning to do what I’ve always done and then undoing it — reefing the granny, in other words. I’m sure my dad didn’t want me to have blind spots. He simply passed along the blind spots he’d inherited. Now I’m having to learn to trust what the mirrors show instead of what they don’t.

One of the beauties of the Internet is its ability to cough up tips like these from the collective experience of humanity. I’ll discover more, I’m sure — slight, but somehow significant adjustments to the things my parents taught me, the deep habits of a lifetime. I don’t imagine that I’m driving without blind spots in reef-knotted shoes on my way to the examined life. But something has changed, and I welcome it.

VERLYN KLINKENBORG

For age is opportunity no less

Than youth itself, though in another dress,

And as the evening twilight fades away

The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day.

HWLongfellow

Insert Something Poetically Inspiring Here

The neat thing about this rainbow was the right side leg comes down well out in front of the mountain scarp.

Dark Days in AJ

Enough with the rain, already. We've had more in the past two months than we get many times in a year. Those of you in the dark and dank climes may not be impressed, but in these here parts, this passes for news.

Happy Twenty-Second Birthday To Me

I believe, and for the past several days have been actively promoting the idea that celebrating the anniversary of a person's thousandth day birthday should clearly be a reason for lavish gifts, sumptuous feasts, psalms of joy and tumultuous huzzahs!

This concept has failed to gain any traction in my circle. No gifts, no songs, not even one feeble rasping huzzah. And to top it off, the girl is in Canada for another couple days and I get to overnight in a Best Western on the rez before my monthly beating at the hands of the Tribal Council.

Huzzah indeed.

Fun TV

Two really enjoyable new shows I've been watching, episodes of both of which are available on-line:

The League - some trash talking buds disrespecting each other and inconsequentializing things important to them. Love these guys. Play golf with them.

Men Of A Certain Age - not previously a fan of Ray Romano, but long time a fan of Andre Braugher. This show is also about guys I know, except none of my pals sells cars for his dad, is divorced, or has a frequently dormant acting career. These guys go from laugh out loud funny to just plain nice and back again most adroitly.

Apple iPad

iYawn

It's All About Willpower, Baby

Following the holiday season, and after perusing family pictures from said season, and having queried myself, "When and how did that happen?!!!", I resolved - there's that word - to get the old physiognomy back into - if not photogenic, at least somewhat less gravitationally improbable - proportions.

So I've quit with the between meal snacks, mostly. I've stopped rummaging through the freezer compartment for Hershey's Special Dark Chocolate, much of the time. I've sent food back to the kitchen when it was too big a portion, once, maybe twice. I've stepped up my exercise program, once or twice a week, And I'm thrilled to announce that, only twenty-five days into the new regime, I've already shed

One and one half pounds.

Sharing my momentous news with the Little Lady, she smiles that Cheshire Cat smile and says, "Way to go, big fella."

Now that's motivation.

What's Important - To Wimmens

The Scene: the Vibrant, Bustling Cogent office.

The Sometime Assistant's personal cell phone rings (this is on company time, after all);

"Hi Honey! What's up? (brief pause) Oh no!!

When? Oh, you've got to be kidding! Oh dear!!

Ohhhhh Nooooooo!!!!!!"

You're faithful correspondent, concerned, looks up, hoping to convey said consternation with raised eyebrows. S.A doesn't look up from what she's doing.

"Well, that's terrible, it's awful!! I am soooo sorry, honey."

More concern, to the point of thinking about maybe even asking what the heck's going on.

"Was it the same ones who did your toes?"

Concern dissipates exponentially. Back to today's Times crossword puzzle.

Note To Self

No matter how lovingly it is uttered, the phrase "crazy old bat" will be taken as a pejorative and connubial permissions will be suspended.

Fun With Grandkids

Their parents brought our grandkids up to the cabin Christmas day. Eight inches or so of snow had fallen the night before so, next day, we decided to go sledding.

We set out for Sunrise, but since it would have been a ninety minute drive we settled instead on a nice run of hills behind the Pizza Hut, along with a half a hundred other winter sports enthusiasts.

The runs were well packed and slick, and for the first several times down I used one of the two inflatable sleds we'd brought. Great fun, memories of the hill behind our house in Omaha, of sledding at Elmwood Park. The grandkids were cautious yet enthusiastic.

Never content with the status quo, I decided to use one of the plastic saucers we'd brought and graduated myself over to the steepest of the runs which had, unnoticed by myself, a ramp at the bottom.

That 32 ft per second per second thing accumulates on a guy pretty freakin' fast, which when multiplied by the unwelcome discovery of air time hurtling off the ramp, combined to drop me on my tailbone hard enough to knock my stocking cap off my head as I flip flopped to a stop like a carp on a beach.

"Damn" I thought to myself, "I just broke my ass." Holy crap, did/does that hurt.

I gathered my garb and corralled my saucer and trudged my broken ass slowly up the hill to be greeted by what sounded like a herd of jackasses braying.

The missus, always first on the scene with condolences, smiled ruefully and said, "The fact that nobody else at the bottom of the hill was answering to the name 'Grampa' meant nothing to you?"

I think I know what she was getting at. Next time I'll stick to the bunny slope. Probably.

On line sources say the pain should dissipate within four to six weeks. The physical pain, at least.

Things We Find To Argue About

Her: Stop calling them that! Their names are Alex and Maxie. Alex. And. Maxie.

Me: But they much prefer to be called Dinger and Dusty.

Her: They do not. How do you know that?

Me: They told me.

Her: They did NOT! What does Dinger mean anyway?

Me: It's short for Schroedinger; like Schroedinger's cat, from physics.

Her: What?

Me: It's kind of a long story.

Her: And I don't even like the sound of "Dinger". It sounds dirty, icky, like "penis" or something.

Me: Ok. We'll call them Penis and Dusty.

Her: (Shriek!)