Winter Is On The Way And The Sunsets Begin At 4:30 In The Afternoon

 

Jokes Heard Around The Thanksgiving Day table

Somehow a joke telling session sprung to life at Thanksgiving dinner yesterday. These are the ones I can remember: 

   A man walks into a liquor store and ask the clerk for a case of less. The clerk responds with a quizzical look and asks, "What the heck is less?"

   The man replies, "I don't know but my Doctor told me I needed to start drinking it."

   

   One evening as the communal dinner was getting underway at the convent the Mother Superior stood up and asked for the nuns undivided attention. "Sisters," she said rather gravely, "I'm afraid there have been several cases of gonorrhea in the abbey."

   "Thanks be to God," an elderly nun said. "I've been getting tired of Merlot every night."

    Jerry went over to his friend Dan's house and asked him for help picking out a birthday gift for his wife, as he had been racking his brain for weeks to no avail. Dan told him that the best thing he ever gave his own wife for her birthday was a hand-made certificate that stated she was entitled to two hours of great sex anyway she wants it. Jerry thought that was a great idea and promptly went home, made up a certificate just like the one Dan had, and gave it to his wife.

   A day later Jerry ran into Dan at the gym. Dan asked him how it went with the certificate and Jerry exclaimed, "She absolutely loved it! She jumped into my arms and smothered me with passionate kisses, then ran out the door while yelling that she would be back in a couple of hours."

   Three older men who had known each other since grade school all got married within a few weeks of one another. One Friday evening about three months after the last wedding they met up at a local bar for drinks. Mark, the first one who had gotten married, said his bride, who he had met in Romania, had turned out to be even better than he had hoped and that within three days of him establishing the way things were going to be she was fixing him three hot meals a day and keeping the place spotless. Jimmy, the second one to marry, nods his head in agreement and tells the other two that his wife who he had met in Istanbul also surprised him by agreeing within the first week to his demands that she fix all the meals, wash the clothes, and clean the house. Robert, the last of the three to marry, sits quietly.  

   "Well," Mark finally says, "What about your bride Robby?"

   Robert stares at his friends for a few more seconds and then says, "As you know I married a woman I met in New Jersey. Just as you two did I laid down the law right after the Honeymoon. I told her she was expected to clean the house thoroughly, make sure my clothes were washed, pressed, folded and put away every week, and have breakfast, lunch and dinner prepared daily."

   "The first day I didn't see anything at all, the second day I didn't see anything either, but by the third day the swelling had subsided a bit and I could see a little out of the right eye and I could grip with my right hand well enough to fix myself a sandwich and even operate the vacuum cleaner. However, I'm still feeling a little pain when I have to pee."  

   A man is sitting on a barstool with a huge ear-to-ear smile on his face. A woman comes in and sits down on the barstool right next to him. After placing an order for a glass of mineral water with a slice of lemon, she looks over at the smiling man and says, "Wow, you sure look happy - did you win the lottery or something?"

   The man looks over at her and replies, "Well, sorta. I raise chickens and for years my hens were infertile, but not now. Today I discovered almost all of them are pregnant!"

   "That's great," says the woman, "and quite the coincidence. For years I couldn't get pregnant and I am now. How did you manage to get the hens pregnant?"

   The farmer looks at the woman and states bluntly, "Switched cocks."

   The woman looks back at the farmer and says, "Wow, another coincidence!"

  

Happy Thanksgiving, 2024

   Giving thanks, offering up some serious gratitude, for all the wonderful people (family and friends) I am extremely lucky to have in my life.

  Oh yeah, a pretty cool fat cat, too.

                      

Dialogue For An Action Adventure Movie

 "Because they have guns and guns shoot bullets and bullets put holes in your dumb ass and from those holes your blood will empty out of your body, which will end your life. Think of another plan."

  Answer to the question, "Why can't we just rush them and make our getaway?"

A Soldiers Photographic Record Of Camp Women In Korea, 1954

The Kid Who Threw The Temper Tantrums

   Temper tantrums, that's what they called them. They labeled him a misfit, anti-social, prone to meltdowns without a moments notice. 

   Some of which was true, some of which was not.

   He was a bright boy, and happy for a large part of the time. He was readily distracted however, and grew bored easily. His mind seemed to be forever pre-occupied with something other than what was actually going on, he was an unrepentant daydreamer.

   However, he was also talented, creative, inquisitive - had that certain quest for knowledge that some kids just have. 

   It wasn't just curiosity, he had a genuine desire to learn. he read at a level well past his peers, and without having to be prodded to do so. He had a library card that allowed him to check out up to ten books at a time by the age of 10, an age when nearly all of his contemporaries were still stumbling through Goodnight Moon or Harold and the Purple Crayon, he was plowing through Treasure Island and Beowulf.

   But he was prone to fits of violent rage, that much was undeniable.

  Neighbors, friends, teachers - nearly everyone who had known him for at least six months could recount at least one incident where he just seemed to lose all self-control and become a screaming, crying, flailing tasmanian devil

   In was inexplicable to most, and even those who should have known he needed the attention of a competent Behavioral Psychologist or at least a Psychiatrist just shrugged off those incidents as acting out, and something he should be able to grow out of.

  The idea of therapy of any sort was a moot point though, as the family did not have the financial means to have him examined by medical professionals, and back then access to any free services that might have been of help was non-existent.

   So the teachers at the various schools he attended just labeled him a problem child, a troublemaker, a head case.

  And various schools he did attend, as he was bounced around a number of schools in hopes that a new start might be the solution,

  Of course, that didn't do anything but make him feel more alienated than ever. 

  When he finally reached a grade level at which school counselors were available, they were woefully unprepared for his particular situation. Those counselors were all there to primarily steer students to particular career or employment directions and to try to keep them from causing trouble, especially trouble at the level that crossed the law.

   In his late teens he developed an awareness of his inability to feel safe at anytime, and especially at school. 

   It wasn't quite paranoia, and it wasn't quite insecurity. Its was a distinct level of unease though, a general feeling that he would not be able to effectively protect himself if the need to do so ever arose.

   He began to read various self-help books, especially any books that boasted of being able to help one develop mind control. Naturally that lead to the digestion of a lot of parapsychological claptrap, but he hadn't become skeptical enough to separate the hokum from the empirical yet, so for a few years he embraced quite a bit of what he would later regard as simply foolishness.

   All in an effort to fit in better with his fellow humans.

   By the time he had graduated high school he was fairly certain he was going to be alright. He didn't have a plan of action for the future - he wasn't even sure what his first steps after high school would be - but he did feel everything was going to be alright.

   It took a little more than a decade, but eventually he felt that everything was actually alright, that he was an acceptable part of society, that he belonged.

   He still understood, however, that nothing was guaranteed. He could easily let his guard slip and lose control of his temper if a threatening or fearful situation presented itself. 

    To this day he keeps a constant vigil.

   

   

When You're Good With A Chain Saw And Need To Trim Some Trees

 

Some People Advertise The Truth

 

You Can't Please Everybody, But There Is One Person You Should Always Aim To Please

   It has been said (and written, repeatedly) that the only person on the planet that you should be worrying about pleasing is yourself.

   Which is on the surface probably one of the most selfish, egotistical, narcissistic statements that one can state (either aloud or on paper).

   Except it's not, when put into context.

   There is no doubt that being altruistic, compassionate, egalitarian (whatever term you want to use to describe putting the needs of others before oneself) can be beneficial to the mental and emotional well-being of a person, but it is also true that being communalistic can be an incredible mental, emotional, and even physical drain on a person

   The context I've come to understand the whole "you gotta please yourself" concept in is not one of indulging one's every whim willy-nilly or leading a life of greedy, amoral hedonism, it is the context of being aware that the actions you undertake today, the thoughts you allow to shape your worldview today, the ideals and philosophy's you adapt as part of your personality today, the exercises you participate in...all have an effect on the one person that should matter the most to you.

   That person is the person you will eventually develop into, the person you will be 10, 20, or 50 years from now.

   Think about it. How pleased is your future self going to be with your current self for making the effort to get a solid education, learn a productive trade, plant and cultivate seeds that eventually bear good fruit (metaphor alert - that translates into developing good and healthy habits)? How pleased do you think your future self is going to be if you make the effort to keep yourself physically fit? How pleased is your future self going to be if you brush your teeth every day and see a Dentist at least twice a year? 

   The answer to those questions is, "Incredibly so". Your future self is going to be incredibly pleased with your past self if you do those things. 

   Those actions are what I call truly pleasing yourself, mainly because all the crap I did in my glorious misspent youth that have me taking (and paying for) corrective actions is just not very pleasing, and makes me regard past me as a bit of a wreckless, rapacious jerk.

   So yeah, please yourself - your future self - by being aware that eventually you are going to have to live in the future with the mind, body and soul you are building (or destroying) today. 

Is It What You Know Or Who You Know?

   Some people become successful due to their dedication to a course of action and their deep conviction that nothing beats hard work when it comes to accomplishing a goal.

  Some people become successful due to being able to charm or influence a network of connections that results in the creation of a specific level of prestige for themselves.

   Of course, there are various hybrids of these two archetypes, but if I had my druthers I'd opt for a lot more of the first example in my personal admixture than the second.

  Gotta know one's limitations, and if there is one thing I know for certain it's that for me, working hard is easier than trying to put on the charm.

The Kids Of Today At Play

   Walking along the mixed use path (meaning  the path is shared by people walking, riding bikes, on horseback, etc. - everyone and everything that doesn't have a motor is allowed) that entwines itself through Addenbrooke park this afternoon I chanced to hear a conversation two young kids were having as they approached me from behind. 

   Apparently they had just gotten out of school and they were discussing the homework they had tonight, as well as some kid named Noah who had been sent to the nurse's office after he threw up in class.

   I was approaching a fork in the path, and at that fork the two kids parted company, but not before one of them called out to the other, "Hey, call me when you get your homework done so we can play Fortnite." To which the other kid replied, "Okay, but let's play Rocket Racing, I'm tired of playing Battle Royale."

    The other kid shouted out in reply, "Okay, I'll call you in about an hour."

    The two pedaled off in opposite directions and I thought to myself that even though the games and the means to play the games have changed since I was a kid, it was nice to see that kids do indeed still play together - even if it's via a multiplayer online video game platform.

Everything Is Open To Misinterpretation

The kid asked me if I'd ever been misinterpreted by anyone

I responded sure, happens all the time

He then asked how I responded to being misinterpreted

And I said it all depends on a couple of factors

To which the kid's response was to ask me to explain

So I did

The thing to consider if you are ever misinterpreted

Is whether or not the person you are talking to 

Has already established an opinion of you

Do they like you, do they hate you, do they trust you, do they not

Do they think of you as inferior, do they think of you as superior

Do they think of you at all?

See, that all has a profound effect on how they perceive

Anything and everything you might have to say 

They might assume you're speaking drivel

They could be wary of every word that comes out of your mouth

No matter how truthful or knowledgable you might actually be

People hear what they want to hear 

And see what they want to see

What motivates them

Is beyond the keen of gods and men

But it's a universal truth

The best you can do is make your message clear and simple

As open to interpretation as little as possible

Be open, direct and honest

And hope the person you're speaking to

Will extend you the same courtesy

For people make assumptions

About what may be motivating everything you say or do

And unfortunately that is something beyond your control

All you can do is just keep on being you

The Spy Who Advertised

 

Strange Fact I Didn't Want To Know But Now Will Never Be Able To Forget

 

   A couple of friends shared a story with me tonight, the gist of which was last week they flew out to New Orleans and a woman passed away on the plane they were on, mid-flight. 

   I fly quite a bit, and I had never heard of such a thing occurring, but according to what they were told in the aftermath, which included having to stay onboard the airplane after it landed in order for the police and medical personnel to board and perform a thorough investigation of the death to determine if foul play was involved and having to wait for the airport coroner to board and take away the deceased, it happens between 70 to 80 times a year on U.S. domestic flights.

   That took me seriously aback. Of course I got on the good ol' internet to do a little fact checking, and sure enough that stat was legit.

   At first glance that seemed like a high number, but after a bit more reading pertaining to modes of transport and likelihood of death while in transit, I realized that when the incredible amount of people who travel by airplane every day is taken into account (2.9 million. Every single day. That's the population of Kansas and Mississippi combined) it is incredibly small.

   How small? About 1 in every 40,000 flights will experience an inflight death of a passenger.

  So now I am not so astonished by the fact that someone died on a flight a couple of friends of mine were on as I am astonished by the fact that a couple of my friends were on a flight on which a fellow passenger passed away.

  BTW, most likely cause of death - cardiac arrest. Most likely victim, male, mid-50's.

   

Veterans Day 2024

 

Cardinal Rule Of Following One's Dreams

   Chase your dreams they tell you, and you will live the most satisfying of lives. Shoot for the stars, dare to be great, etc., etc.

  There is no denying those are all encouraging and motivating statements.

   However, there are people who find those words to actually be discouraging, to be crippling.

   Because of a fear. A fear known as atychiphobia in clinical/medical/academic circles, but to the common folk (such as myself) it is known as fear of failure. 

  There are people in this world who attempted to do something with every resource at their disposal - dedicating all of their time, effort, and energy to succeed on some level at developing a skill set or refining a talent or just being as good as they possibly could at something they really enjoyed doing.

   And there are people in this world who made the most imperceptible of attempts to do something, barely utilizing any of the resources at their disposal, with very little commitment timewise, making almost no effort at all, and expending a modicum of energy, trying to succeed on the basest level to develop a skill set or refine a talent or just to be able to be somewhat competent at something they may or may not enjoy doing.

   People from both of those groups have both succeeded wildly and have both failed miserably, but all the people from both of those groups can hold their heads high for the one basic common denominator they share.

   All of those people tried. Yoda may say "Do or do not, there is no try," but Yoda is fatally wrong. The only way to get to "Do" is to try and try and try and try...until you succeed or realise that what you want to do (say, play center for the basketball team despite barely scraping 5'5" in height) is impractical for your particular physical or mental limitations, and it's time to try something else.

   And make no bones about it, try is the operative word here.

   For no matter what any person tells you, be it philosopher, psychologist, politician, or hand puppet, if is far better to try and fail than it is to fail to try.

   Failure to try is what is not an option, not failure itself.

   

The World's 1,234th Cutest Dog

                                      Her name is Ginger, part St Bernard & part something else
 

The Beast That Lurked In The Heart Of A Flower

   That's it right there. "The Beast That Lurked In The Heart Of A Flower" would have been the title of the 1950's drive-in theater shockmeister film I would have written and produced had I been alive in that era (and literate, and well-connected in Hollywood with people who knew the rudiments of making movies).

   Of course it would have to have people in the 1950's who were at the top of the shockmeister film game on board to help create this masterpiece - Nathan Duran to direct, Richard Landau to write the screenplay (adapted from my original story, 'natch), Russell Harlan would be the cinematographer, Irving Gertz could produce the score (and any other incidental music), and Barton Sloane would create the special effects. 

   If Merrill White had the time (and was healthy enough), he could handle the editing.

   With luck 20th Century Fox would bid on and win the distribution rights, ensuring a studio that had the right people to market this epic and connections with an adequate number of theaters to handle both brick & mortar and drive-in theater showings (matinees at brick & mortar theaters could double ticket sales).

   Casting might be tricky - the role of the suave but mad professor requires an actor with a commanding but super-smooth presence, or at least the remnants of a commanding but super-smooth presence. Possibly Herbert Marshall, as the scene wherein the beast of the flower attacks the mad professor could have a little heightened realism if the beast rips Marshall's left leg off (Marshall had his left leg amputated as the result of being shot by a sniper during WWI, and wore a wooden prosthetic leg for the duration of his post WWI career - watching him on stage and in films made during the 1920's through the mid 1960's it was almost impossible to tell).

   The suave mad professor's wife would most definitely have to be played by Miriam Hopkins if Herbert Marshall was signed. They had acted together in Trouble In Paradise and had terrific chemistry. Of course that would mean coaxing Hopkins out of an early retirement

   The five young punks and their respective dolls could all be cast from the incredible pool of hungry young talented actors that had flooded Hollywood following WWII: People such as Steve McQueen, Sandra Giles, Vikki Dougan, Ralph Meeker, Michael Landon, Mamie Van Doren, Chris Mitchum, Johnny Sands, Phyllis Coates, and Laurette Luez.

   Of course there would need to be a few character actors on the screen for the roles of the disgraced Police Chief, the femme fatale with the dangerous secret, the two elderly college professors who oppose the suave mad professor, the young newspaper reporter who can't get the local authorities to look at what she discovered going on at the University's research lab, the earnest young intern at the local hospital who stumbles on a cure for the deadly poison, and of course a stuntman who could pull off the beast of the flower without fainting from wearing the 75 pound rubber monster costume for extended periods of time.

   Names such as Raymond Burr, Alida Valli, Erich Ponto & Leon Ames, Kristine Miller, David Holt, and Robert Hoy spring to mind for those roles. 

   Filming would be mostly in and around L.A., and possibly in areas near Lancaster close to Edwards AFB - stock footage of atom bomb tests would fit the landscape of that area fairly well. 

   Heck, chances are the movie would have been a minor hit and maybe a comic book adaption would have been published by Dell Comics.

   

   

 

The Romanian Woman In The Spanish Cafe

The Romanian woman with her cigarettes

Told me I looked like the type who read Proust

Because I thought it was the right intellectual thing to do

And that I probably viewed all Eastern Europeans as former Soviets

Wrapped up as I was in convictions without any doubts

She blew smoke rings and smirked as I turned in my seat

Trying to avoid the clove-scented curling flame

For a second I considered foregoing any reply

Then abandoned that idea as being of the weakest conceit

Opting instead to offer her my hand and name

She replied with hers and gave the gentlest of shakes

Then asked if any of her analysis was correct

I told her I had never read Proust, had never considered it

And that not all Eastern Europeans being Soviets was easy to understand

If for a minute she could stop thinking all American men were rakes

Her face reddened a shade and she took a quick drink

Then said she was not judging me as much as sizing me up

As she had been told by friends much of what she had said

Finally meeting an American was causing her to think

She was expecting a bulldog not a cute little pup

Five minutes later and we were laughing, sharing jokes

Commenting to each other on our mutual misconceptions

I told her I expected Romanian women to be cold-hearted bears

She told me she expected American men to be boring cowpokes

We happily helped each other shed our misperceptions

Popeye Arm Syndrome (Another Reminder That Getting Old Is Not For Wussies)

   Note to self: Being old and deluding oneself into believing one can work as hard as one did in their youth is foolish and leads to injuries such as the one shown above (when your bicep tendon ruptures and the bicep muscle bunches up near the elbow) 

   Yeah...now all I have to do for the next several months is apply an icepack to reduce the swelling, rest my arm as much as possible, take an anti-inflammatory such as ibuprofen...or possibly have arthroscopic surgery to reattach the long bicep tendon...oy vey.