The art, adventures, wit (or lack thereof), verse, ramblings, lyrics, stories, rants & raves of Christopher R. Bakunas
Wednesday, August 31, 2022
The Hap-Hap-Happy Couple
Monday, August 29, 2022
More Disproved Folk Wisdom
Over the years I've heard several people state that once you can make a woman laugh you can get her to do whatever you want.
Well, I've repeated that statement to several women, and each and everyone of them laughed when I said it...But not one of them would do any of the things I requested of them.
Sunday, August 28, 2022
Ramble Through Brambles And Become Entangled
Saturday, August 27, 2022
The Unacted Upon Childhood Obsession
Tuesday, August 23, 2022
Signs That A Bad Winter Is On The Way
Some of the better ways one can tell it's going to be a long, cold & snowy winter:
1) Prairie Dogs start stealing insulation for use in their dens
2) Your lawn starts to grow fur
3) Birds start flying south in June
4) Silk strands on ears of corn are beginning to resemble afros
5) Squirrels have been seen browsing North Face catalogs
6) The term "September Frost" is spoken before Labor day
7) Wool is the new black
8) Bigfoot and Yeti costumes are top choices for Halloween
9) Tree trunks are encircled by moss quilts
10) Canada closes at the end of August
Tips For Handling Yellowjackets (Wasps, Particularly Vespula Alascensis)
The Wasps known in these parts as yellowjackets (Vespula Alascensis for those of you into the whole scientific classification thing) are particularly nasty insects when they are bothered, and individual yellowjackets can sting a person multiple times if so inclined.
I write from personal experience. This past weekend I stumbled across a yellowjacket nest that was located along the side of a house. The nest was in the ground - yellowjackets, as I painfully discovered, nest in the ground.
The nest was obscured by tall grass, weeds, and small stacks of lumber and dead tree branches. My passage along the side of the house was enough to disturb the nest and subsequently I was attacked by at least 7 of the little f*ckers.
The sting of a yellowjacket hurts. It feels like being jabbed by a tiny white-hot needle, and the sensation lingers - it's not one-and-done, it's one-and-let's-make-sure-you-know-you've-been-stung.
First aid for a yellowjacket sting is simple: wash the sting with warm water and soap, then apply some ice to the area to reduce swelling. Calamine lotion or a topical antihistamine slathered over the bite will help with the itching.
It's been two days since I incurred the stings, and while the swelling has indeed gone down there is still a small itching sensation at each area that was stung.
So, my advice for handling yellowjackets is simple.
1) Don't
2) Run away
Saturday, August 20, 2022
Short Synopsis Of A Trip Through Kansas
So, you're thinking you would like to see the wide-open prairies and uninterrupted horizons of the heartland of the United States?
May I recommend Interstate 70 east? It's been nicknamed the main street of Kansas for a reason - it not only stretches border to border longitude-wise through the state, but it also wends its way through or skirts very close to most of the major population centers of the sunflower state.
There is not a whole heckuva lot to see scenery-wise when you are outside the environs of the population centers, but there are some quirky places to stop, and the food is almost universally awesome no matter where you choose to pullover to get a bite to eat.
And that's about all I have to say about Kansas.
Friday, August 19, 2022
The Earthquake Dream
Thursday, August 18, 2022
Monday, August 15, 2022
Unnecessary Cat Rhyme
Sunday, August 14, 2022
News For Those Who Confuse Entertainment For News
Saturday, August 13, 2022
It All Adds Up, Eventually
Living has a cumulative effect on life.
Or should that statement be, the actions we take/experience while living have cumulative positive and negative effects on the quality of our lives?
In my pre-adolescent and teenage years, I often heard people say that some such thing or event that had affected me in some way would not matter in twenty years.
Usually in the manner of "C'mon, what's it going to matter in twenty years?"
Well, I'm here to state that a whole helluva lot of the things I was told would not matter in twenty years do indeed matter twenty (and far more) years later.
It has been my personal experience that a lot of what transpired in the past did not simply disappear once the action/event was over. Many, many actions/events have stuck around...accumulated if you will.
Take food for example. It was a habit of mine to eat nearly everything that was set down on a plate in front of me without question for most of my life. When I say everything, I mean clean-the-plate everything, even if I didn't care for what was being served up.
That habit was born from being raised by a single mother who had to feed six kids on very limited means. "You'll eat what you get, and you'll like it" was a common refrain in the home I was reared in.
That childhood lesson never faded away, but my childhood metabolism sure has.
And every little enriched, bleached, and refined carbohydrate (when you're poor carbs are the vast majority of the food you eat) seems to have left its mark.
Accumulated.
Eventually, my weight exceeded 330 pounds, my BMI was slightly more than 38. It was not pretty, or healthy, and even though there were people who assured me I held my weight well, it was certainly not comfortable mentally or physically.
What I have learned in the past few years (knowledge is cumulative too, which is one of the good aspects of growing older) about the human body and the role habit and hormones play in health and wellness has opened my eyes and more importantly, my mind.
I'll give a quick summation of what I'm about to write: It's not just about how many calories you consume on a daily basis or where those calories come from, and it's not all about how much exercise you do or do not get.
Plus, sugar is the devil.
It is about when you eat and don't eat, and it's about balance in your diet, and how much the food and drinks you consume act on specific hormone production.
Plus, sugar, and most chemical sugar substitutes, are the devil.
The body's natural mechanisms that regulate what and how much a person eats can be compromised by ignoring the body's signals regarding hunger and satiety. When a person eats when they are not actually hungry and eats far more than they should at a single setting, well, it seems obvious now but it didn't to me for the majority of my life, but that can compromise the body's "desire and control" mechanisms, meaning you can develop the ability over time to desire more of the bad-but-delicious foods you eat and lose complete control over how much and when you should eat.
TLDR; If you habitually go to all-you-can eat restaurants and force yourself to eat plate after plate of high carb, high sugar foods in order to get your "money's worth", you are effectively killing yourself with food.
Sadly, resetting the mechanisms that naturally protected the body against such behaviors is hard, and continuing to stuff your face with butter or gravy smothered mashed potatoes and shoveling loads of macaroni and cheese (processed or otherwise) down your throat is not.
But not impossible. I'm not about to state, "If I can do it, anybody can," because that is a bald-faced lie. The fact that I can do something has no bearing on whether or not anyone else can.
The more correct thing to say is there is a path available that leads one away from obesity, and it can be followed by nearly anyone who is capable of making the choice to take the path.
Plus, sugar is the devil.
Next, I'll discuss my hips and knees and all those squats I did when I thought being a powerlifter was a good idea.
Wednesday, August 10, 2022
Skepticism 101
Just to be clear...
Association of one thing with another does not mean that one thing causes the other.
Not in peer-reviewed scientific circles.
In other words, correlation does not mean causation.
Two things can have extremely strong links, but until there is actual, incontrovertible proof that one resulted in the other, it's not definite.
Every possible factor must be examined, and re-examined, and then submitted to a number of other researchers for still more re-examination.
That is known as "rigorous testing" of the hypothesis.
I only bring this up due to a recent experience with a person who truly believes that an unproven theory regarding extraterrestrial life visiting Earth has some truth to it due to a number of supposedly respectable people repeating the theory and furthermore, has been quoting some very scientific sounding verbiage that the primary claimants of the theory have been using. *
So, once again, the old chestnut:
Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence.
Repetitiously quoting pseudo-scientific claims spewed by people who have an internet presence is not extraordinary evidence.
Thank you.
* The "quoting some very scientific sounding verbiage" bit is not just irritating, it is comically wrong, somewhat like when a person says, "Pink Floyd? I love him!"
Tuesday, August 9, 2022
The Imperfect Question
Monday, August 8, 2022
Obsolete Professions
In the last 100 years a number of fairly well-paying jobs have come and gone due to incredible advancements in technology, as well as the dramatic decrease in the replacement costs of just about all consumer goods.
It used to be that every neighborhood had at least one fix-it man who could do everything from sharpening mower blades to replacing the burnt-out tubes in a television set.
The need for those people seems to be long past. Just about every appliance that one can own is now fairly cheap - so cheap that it's much easier to simply discard the old one and buy a replacement than it is to have the old one repaired.
How many professions have been created and are now either obsolete or very close to disappearing since the dawn of the assembly line and the concurrent rise in mass-production?
Starting with the obvious, there is the whole army of people who worked in the television and radio repair industry. I imagine there are a number of technicians still working in the field, but a quick google search for "Television Repair" resulted in far more stories about television repair shops closing "...after 50 years in business..." than actual open repair shops, and the open shops were primarily advertising services to mount and hook-up televisions, not actually repair them.
I could also clump VHS player repair technician into the T & R field, but it's probably better to list them separate, with all tape recording machines, video or audio, and throw in DVD repair techs too.
The entirety of the television and radio repair field along with the VHS & DVD repair field, has no doubt been replaced by the computer & cellphone repair field, people who know how to replace which circuit board to get whatever function is no longer functioning, or who can replace little cracked screens.
There does not appear too many elevator operators working these days, though they are seen in just about every other movie that's broadcast on TCM, spiffy uniforms and all.
Telephone operators seem to be a thing of the past, at least those that provided connections for long-distance services or information. Maybe those people all moved on to being 911 operators.
Speaking of long-distance services... at one time the cost of one month's frequent use of long-distance calling cost more than an entire year's worth of cell phone use...and that's not even adjusting the price paid as recently as 30 years ago for inflation.
There are not a lot of film processors around anymore. There was a time when Foto-Mat booths were found in every shopping center or even occupying a small lot all by themselves. Those booths are all gone, along with the workers who made rolls of film, instamatic cameras, dark-room equipment, or did any type of film processing work.
The auteurs of Hollywood, the ones that consider themselves purists (see "audiophile" for further elaboration) are still using film stock to create movies, but by and large all movie making has gone digital, so processing film is a very specialized field now.
Related to the lamented mass-production of film stock, the vinyl album, that audio recording format that evolved from the 78-rpm developed in the early years of the 20th century into the less costly, more durable 33 & 1/3, has all but disappeared except for the small operations that produce albums (usually of a much heavier grain than used in the past) for the audiophile community. Another mass production industry whittled down to a boutique industry.
Theater projectionists are pretty much obsolete now, too. Films are sent to theaters in digital formats that can be programmed in advance for a week's worth of showings, and all it takes to get the films "rolling" is the touch of a button.
The printing industry has created and eliminated thousands and thousands of specialized jobs over the past 100 years. Not a lot of typesetters around anymore, or color-separation techs, or paste-up artists. Though newspapers are still being published, all the pre-production people have been replaced by software and the people who know how to use it.
Bicycle messengers are hard to find these days, though messenger services can be found on the internet. Most of those advertising on the internet seem to be delivery services for hard goods though, not manilla envelope encased messages.
I would be remis if I didn't mention commercial illustration as being an outmoded profession. Long gone are the days when magazines sported paintings of celebrities or politicians or just little bucolic snippets of life in America, and album covers featured phantasmagoric or idyllic imagery (depending on the music genre). Those days died with Norman Rockwell and Rick Griffen (amongst untold thousands of other talented folks).
It's the masters of photoshop that rule the roost in the commercial art studios these days.
Sign painters should be included in that group too, as well as billboard painters and even the guys who used to hand draw flyers for parties or garage sales. All replaced by what can be done with a computer.
Saturday, August 6, 2022
The Man From Colebrook
The skorch of the large airliner's wheels as they made contact with the tarmac roused him fully. It had been almost 7 hours since he had boarded the flight at Logan, and his body had grown stiff in the tight business class seat.
The repeated request for all passengers to remain seated as the plane taxied toward the gate garbled its way out of the speakers.
It was an unusually bright morning for the London area, the sun streaming into the small window as he watched all the people stretching as they stood up in defiance of the Captain's orders.
He remained seated, placidly. His schedule was as loose as a Jack Russell Terrier discovering a hole in the fence.
The small man who had sat in the aisle seat stood on his tiptoes to open the overhead compartment the second the plane had come to a stop at the gate. He reached over Jenson to retrieve his carry-on, swinging it down in an arc that came uncomfortably close to hitting him.
Jenson smiled at the man and motioned a faint friendly wave with his right hand, the internationally recognized gesture signaling "no problem".
The aisle of the plane was full of passengers within a few minutes, all of them clutching carry-on luggage or laptop bags, some even clutching large shopping bags - visitors to the states returning home to either Great Britain or maybe a further destination in Europe after making a connecting flight here at Gatwick.
Slowly the plane emptied until Jenson was one of three or four stragglers who finally stood up, stretched, and retrieved whatever they had brought onboard with them from the overhead bins.
Except for Jenson. He had brought nothing with him but the nice fitting off-the-rack suit he was wearing. He exited the plane after exchanging pleasantries with the Steward who had been tasked with thanking every passenger for choosing to fly with EuroAir Trans.
The plane had landed at the North Terminal which had been exceptionally busy during his last visit due to the South Terminal being closed. Now that the South Terminal had re-opened, he walked briskly towards Customs, his completed declaration form in the inner breast pocket with his passport. The line was close to 300 fellow travelers long.
In due time the Customs agent had asked him all the standard questions, and then asked if his luggage had been lost. Jenson replied that he never traveled with luggage, too cumbersome for his taste, and that he would be stopping at Marks & Spencer as soon as he was in London. The agent nodded without showing any indication of surprise or concern for the unusual statement, examined the passport with the multiple Visa stamps from countries all over the globe, and then stamped in the Visa good for six months.
Jenson passed through the familiar terminal towards the monorail station that would take him to the train platforms in the South Terminal and pulled out his wallet to retrieve the Oyster card he would use to pay for the train and the underground while he was in London.
He had long ago learned to forego a car hire - parking in London and the surrounding area was worse than any city in North America and besides, a car hire was just one more way his activities could be traced.
The South Terminal was bustling as he stepped onto the new escalator that would take him down to the remodeled train depot. Stepping off the escalator he moved to one side out of the way of the stream of humanity flowing past him and paused to get his bearings.
He quickly determined where he needed to be and made a beeline to the self-service automated Thameslink ticket kiosk.
He used the Oyster card to purchase a ticket to St Pancras in London and was mildly amused when he noticed people using their phones to board with Etickets - just another way for them to track you he thought to himself.
Thameslink trains originated at various points south of Gatwick, and sometimes they arrived full of commuters returning to London from day trips to Brighton. Thankfully that was not the case today. He found a seat and settled in for the 45-minute ride.
He began to mentally review his itinerary and the steps he would follow to ensure he was not detected anywhere his cover story could not vouchsafe he was never at.
Mostly though, he thought about the purpose of his visit - technically, his mission, and he wondered if the safe house he'd be staying in had been cleaned up since it's last use by the less than hygienic Allen and his crew - and he hoped they had at least put the guns back where they belonged.