Fractured tales

   As he looked up, a tall awkward kid walked past his table.  It was Kutkas “alphabets” Vanidregulas.  Here was Steve’s Tim.  Alphabets was a social outcast.  He was a foreigner with an accent and a funny name.  He looked like a stork.  But Steve knew that Alphabets was a genius in the classroom.

     “Hey Alphabets!” yelled Steve, “Come on over and have a seat.”  The tall boy seemed stunned at first, but he smiled and plopped down opposite Steve.

     “Hello.  I am Kutkas.”

     “Hi, I’m Steve Vernor.  What can I call you besides Alphabets or Kutkas?  How about Kurt?”

     “Kurt?  That sounds like a good American name.  Okay, Steve.”  They shook hands on it.

     Over the next few weeks, Steve and Kurt became fast friends.  They went to class together, did homework together, and even ran the Thad Felt gauntlet together.

     They both agreed that the gang would probably fall apart without Thad to lead them.  But how to eliminate Thad without being eliminated yourself?  Brute force was out.  As Black Jack had said many times: “…guile and cunning sink more ships than cannons and muskets.”

     One night while doing their homework in Steve’s room, Kurt jumped up excitedly.  “I’ve got it!  Remember the Black Jack story, The Return of Marquis Bombon de Altea?  His old enemy the Spanish Marquis sneaks up and almost blows Jack’s ship out of the water.  Jack and his crew barely escape and have no way to get back at the the Marquis.”

     “Yeah, I remember.  After that, Black Jack spreads the word about that island.  The story gets around that island was full of treasure, food and beautiful pirate women.  Black Jack even had some fake buildings set up to make it look inhabited.  When the Marquis lands with his men, Black Jack and his crew easily take over the Marquis’ empty ship.”  Steve was quiet for a moment.  What’s that got to do with Thad?”

     “Everything” said Kurt “just listen to my plan.”

The two boys began to plan their course of action.

     A few days later, Steve and Kurt leaned on their hall lockers as Thad and his entourage sauntered through the doors of St. Vincents.  First hour class had not yet begun when Thad saw Virginia Longeduc and Judy Sloan walk toward him down the hallway.  He watched them pass by, ponytails bouncing off the back of their letter jackets.  Thad was in love with Virginia, although this love was not yet returned.  Thad went into shock when he noticed both girls were wearing green and red jackets from Briney High, not from St. Vincent’s High.  He failed to notice the open locker door as he lurched off in a daze for class.  Thad and his nose would remember this as bloody Monday.

     In the next few weeks, events began to take an even more curious turn for Thad.  He was a notorious eavesdropper.  In fact, since he was such a terrible reader, Thad got much of his mediocre education through eavesdropping on conversations.  His sex education came from hiding by the garage door as he listened to his older brother, Dexter, and his friends discuss cars and women, in that order.  He learned of family problems by listening in on his mother’s telephone conversations.  He did his school work by copying the homework of bullied classmates, or that of one of his gang when an intimidated kid could not be found.

 

copyright 1989

The Return of Black Jack Sterno — Part 1

Steve was running as fast as he could. He visualized his legs stretching, reaching for the next few feet of sidewalk; another block and safety. At the corner, he turned without losing a step. That Felt and his three accomplices, wouldn’t come down this street, too many witnesses. As Steve slowed to a walk, he wondered if he would ever make it through eighth grade. Steve Vernor and Thad Felt were classmates at St. Vincent’s School. Thad seemed intent on ending Steve’s school career before high school would ever begin. It was a ritual now. Every day when school let out, Thad and some of his pals would seek out Steve. If he was slow leaving the school area, the hue and cry would begin, and the chase was resumed. Luckily, Steve was blessed with speed to make up for his lack of brawn.

Thad was usually satisfied just scaring Steve for a few blocks. Thad thought it was funny and he hoped it might impress any girls that might be watching. Steve remembered the first time he had set eyes on Thad Felt the previous September. It was surely not love at first sight.
Thad was a squat, thickset, ugly chunk of a kid. a couple inches over five feet, with a square face, topped by a bushy, long crewcut. In the winter, Steve later would observe, Thad would wet his head throughly before leaving home in the morning, so it would freeze his hair in spikes, which he hoped would result in a more fearsome appearance. He was about twenty pounds of candy overweight, but he did have some muscle on him; another fact that Thad hoped would appeal to the ladies.

Not long after the school year started, Steve had his first brush with Thad. It was a cool October morning in the schoolyard. It was the first time Thad had ever confronted him and asked for his homework; because he’d not done the required assignment. Steve refused and was roughed up by Thad for his reward. Before Thad could completely pulverize him, the bell rang and a teacher came out to usher them into class. “If I fail this class, I’ll remember this, Vernor, and so will you!” said an angry Thad. He did fail the class. He never let Steve forget it.

The school year dragged on through the months and it was soon early May and things had not changed. As Steve sat at his table in the cafeteria, he decided that he couldn’t run anymore. It was doubtful that fate would intervene. Thad was very careful while crossing streets and he didn’t look to be suffering from any rare diseases. He’d lived in the neighborhood for two years, so it looked like he was here to stay.

Steve knew that if he was going to confront his nemesis and his gang, he must do it soon. Otherwise, he might never make it to high school graduation. An idea gradually took shape in his mind. The more he thought it through, the better he liked it. Steve remembered the dashing hero of his favorite book, “Black Jack Sterno -Terror of Tortuga!”. He would see if he could take a page out of Black Jack’s book. Here comes Stern Steve Sterno!
Steve knew that he still had a problem. He couldn’t do this alone, he needed help. How was he going to defeat Thad Felt without a right-hand man? Black Jack had his faithful, one-eyed half breed, Tim Bucktooth. Tim was a really  ugly, sad looking pirate, with no friend save Black Jack. Steve needed to find his own Tim Bucktooth.

@copyright 1989

Hey! Where’s the Remote?

The history of the remote control unit is a long and tricky story. There are many theories of the development and subsequent psychological meanings of this magical electronic device. If you search on the internet, you might read some supposedly definitive narration of events, most of which are enfiladed with wobbly myths and dewey facts. We are here to bring the true story of this modern necessity of the current age. As usual, we turn to the faultless tomes from the library of the University of Taurus Foemus in Bolgna, Italy. The research was mostly completed by Professor Aldo de la Cella. This sober and unbiased narration of the events is summarized here.

The technology is not anything new. The ancient Chinese were already using it centuries ago. During the lazy, crazy, hot summer days of Fifth century Peking, the mandarins would have their servants perform puppet shows and other entertainments. If they tired of one show, at the clap of their hands, the show would hurriedly change to something different. At the same time, other servants pulled on ropes that manipulated ceiling fans, cooling off the masters as they languished on cushiony chairs that were the prototypes of the modern day recliners.

After this, there were few innovations or improvements until Ben Franklin invented electricity some years back. Still nothing was new on the remote front. It would be once again in the Orient that the next leap forward was taken. Sometime in the early 1930’s in Japan, three cousins, Herm Toshiba, Marvin Sony and Verne Sanyo, got together to work on the device in Marvin’s garage. Unfortunately for all of us, their work was interrupted by a little inconvenience, World War II. Once the country was cleaned up and straightened back out, the work was resumed in the 1950’s.

The early r&d was difficult and full of problems. The first units had to be directed at another person and when the button was pressed, it would produce a charge of sufficient voltage to induce that person to run up to the television and change the channel. There were a few snags with these tests. After a few test runs, using Marvin’s wife as the receiver, the plans were quickly dropped as impractical. As soon as Marv got out of the hospital, and his wife out of jail, the tests resumed with a renewed fury. They began to focus on directing the remote toward the television. They were now rewarded with success. The remote was able to turn the television off and on and also change stations. Unfortunately, there was only one channel available in Japan at the time, so work was delayed until more channels were invented. This happened soon, and a finished product was now available for sale along with a television.

Some people might be thinking: “what about America? Weren’t we working on this gadget as well?” Sadly this was not the case. There was not a need for it. If you remember your history, back in the 1950’s the baby boom was in full bloom. Most American families had a number of kids. When the old man sat down after dinner, and got onto his couch or favorite chair for a night of television, he didn’t require a remote. He could direct one of his minions to hop up and change the channel for him. Also at this time, television stations usually went off the air around midnight. Many Americans became addicted to falling asleep with the television set on and would then jump to attention as the national anthem was played at the sign off. They family was then paraded off to be in respectful silence.

In the ensuing years, the size of the American family would dwindle, children became a little more rebellious and the desire for some kind of remote control device grew in the minds of the entertained. American television scientists quickly set to work to invent something to satisfy this new craving. Unbeknownst to them, this invention was already lurking in the East and was about to descend upon the country in a crescendo of electronic imports. In the early 1960’s we were warned of the impending deluge that would quickly overwhelm our electronic inventors.

A second cousin of Herm Toshiba was a disgruntled investor who had put up some yen in the start up, but was later cut out of the syndicate in a power play by Herm. This cousin, Kyu Sakamoto by name, cut a pop record and had it sent to the disc jockeys all over America. While this song “Suki Yaki” became a giant hit in the States, everyone ignored the warnings that Kyu had slipped into the lyrics. Since not many of the listeners could understand Japanese, the song was assumed to be a love song. The chorus even said: “ there is a tidal wave of electronics coming your way, your companies will not have a chance, beware” If the warnings had been heeded, history as we know it would be radically different today.

So this invention, the remote, the clicker, the channel changer, the thing we can never find— came to America changing the country and the people forever. This piece of plastic electronics, has created just as many problems as it solved. These problems , physical, emotional , psychological and economically , are further covered in other chapters of this study be de la Cella, and can be reviewed at the University, or will be covered at a later date.

copyright 2018

This week’s interesting personality in the news is Kevin Shubbs, sportsman, celebrity pitchman and currently the play-by-play announcer for the new World Kite Flying League. Mr. Shubbs was previously a well known reporter on sports for a number of networks, but mysteriously disappeared from the major sports scene for the past ten years. He just recently surfaced again in his current role as the lead play-by-play man for this new sporting venture, Kites. Our crack interviewer and a celebrity of sorts, Thrushton Deadwood, tracked down Mr. Shubbs in a local fine dining establishment.

Deadwood: Kevin Shubbs, what a delight to see you again! It must be ten years since we last met. What are doing with yourself these days?

Shubbs: Yeah, Thurston, it has been a while hasn’t it? Looks like you have been pretty handy with the old knife and fork lately. Those yoga pants look a little tight.

Deadwood: It’s Thrushton, not Thurston, and if you must know, I have a condition and the doctor wrote me a prescription for these pants.

Shubbs: Sure. Okay guy. But unless my memory fails, didn’t you used to go by the name of Sammy Spanatic, back in the old days?

Deadwood: No. Maybe. Maybe I used that as a stage name at one point, when it looked good for me in Hollywood, but who is interviewing whom, anyway? Enough about me, what about you?

Shubbs: Well, as you may have heard or read on the internet, I am hooked up with this new sports league. World Kite Flying. What with all the new reality shows on TV, its just a matter of time before we get a spot soon. Originally I thought it was kind of a silly notion, but the sponsors really wanted me, and were able to twist my arm. After further review, I have to say, it’s quite exciting, sometimes.

Deadwood: Didn’t I hear that they gave you a large pile of cash, plus a clothing deal? Since you weren’t working, at least nothing remarkable, it would have been hard for you to pass it up.

Shubbs: Actually, Thurston, after I saw a few exhibitions, I knew that I really wanted to do it. They wanted me pretty bad and I was excited about the whole concept. So both sides were quite satisfied.

Deadwood: I know that you used to be a semi-big name in sports, but isn’t it true that everyone else turned the job down?

Shubbs: That’s not exactly true. Harley Spirral and Tony Clodman both wanted the job, but they chose me instead.

Deadwood: From what I hear, Spirral is drying out somewhere in Arizona and Clodman died in a fishing accident. So that shouldn’t really count.

Shubbs: Okay, technically you are right, neither of those were quite available, but I think they are quite happy they have me doing it for them.

Deadwood: I haven’t had the time to catch one of your broadcasts, can you tell our listeners all about it, and how the whole thing works?

Shubbs: Sure, Thurston. First we choose our playing field or venue as we call it. We like it to be a place away from big trees or power lines, but…

Deadwood: Sorry to interrupt, Kevin, —it is Thrushton —but you mean to say that you don’t have regular scheduled fields to use?

Shubbs: Wellllllll, you know, what with baseball and football and sometimes even soccer, taking the best spots already, we don’t have a lot to choose from right now. When this whole thing catches on a little better, we might have the dough and the fans to buy some land or at least lease something suitable to our needs. We did try it indoors once. We used some big floor fans to create a wind effect, but the whole thing never really got off the ground, so to say. hahhhhh

Deadwood: Yes, I can imagine. Well, please go on.

Shubbs: As I was saying, we like to have an open field with as few trees or power lines as possible. Although we do like some in the area to add a little excitement to the whole thing for the spectators.

Deadwood: So you do have spectators on hand, do they have to pay to watch?

Shubbs: Originally the tickets were a little pricey, but we had a hard time collecting, what with no stadium or fences to keep the people out. So we decided it would be provide a better atmosphere to have a larger crowd which would help for the radio broadcast. We are trying to make up the money with the chair rentals and concession stands.

Deadwood: So you do sell beer, hot dogs, nachos etc?

Shubbs: Well, not yet. At least no beer, as we don’t have a license for that yet. The guy we use right now has sno-cones, cotton candy, coffee, funnel cakes and that type of stuff. He’s in the process of expanding his menu soon. We also sell shirts and hats with team logos. The best selling shirt is of a guy running across a field with a kite in the air and being hit by lightning. Also, as the players and teams become a little more well known, we expect the logo item sales to skyrocket.

Deadwood: Are there any big star names in this league?

Shubbs: Actually yes, I guess. There’s a guy that plays for the Midland Fetlocks, Flyin’ Frankie Fritz, who seems to making a name for himself. He really gets the crowd going sometimes, even I get caught up in the excitement.

Deadwood: Really? And just what does this Fritz fellow do?

Shubbs: Well, I remember this one match, when the Fetlocks were playing the Zanesville Flyers, that was just before they became the Columbus Squirrels. Anyway, the match had just started and old Frankie starts running with his kite, alongside some clown from the other team, and just as they start to hit their stride, Frankie trips the guy, shoves him as he is going down, and then steps on him with his spikes for good measure. That really got the crowd going good.

Deadwood: They wear spikes?

Shubbs: Oh yes, the sponsors demand it.

Deadwood: Wasn’t that maneuver illegal or a foul of some kind?

Shubbs: You might say so, but sometimes the referees don’t see everything. In this case they missed it, and Frankie went on to win going away.

Deadwood: Just what are the rules? Or how do you win a match? I’m sure that our listeners are anxious to know why they should attend kite flying match.

Shubbs: Sure Thurston. As it was explained to me, a long time ago, the Greeks or some people closely related to them, began the ancient art of kite flying.

Deadwood: Are you sure it wasn’t the Chinese?

Shubbs: It could have been them too, but as I heard it, it was the Greeks. Anyway, our people have done plenty of research on the whole thing, and have developed a contest that is reminiscent of the ancient sport that was probably held at the time of the very first Olympic games.

Deadwood: Please go on.

Shubbs: We usually have four man teams. The match is set up in three parts. There are two, two man contests and the last part is the one on one duel. In this duel, two guys will line up at the start line and run like crazy, pulling a gayly festooned kite behind them. The guy who gets his kite the highest in the air before the ten minute clock runs out, is the winner.

Deadwood: That doesn’t sound too exciting to me.

Shubbs: That’s why we let some things go a little bit to spice up the competition.

Deadwood: Like Mr. Fritz knocking down his opponent.

Shubbs: Yeah, well sometimes that stuff happens. And trees and power lines can add a little danger at times. We never call a contest on account of bad weather either. Some of the teams have used taunting to great affect, which has led to a few brawls. Which can lead to penalties. Also there is just some doggone good kite flying skills as well.

Deadwood: Sounds thrilling, what about the two man team contests?

Shubbs: I was saving the best for last. The two man team portion is timed for thirty minutes. The clock never stops. No injury time outs or anything. This is full contact, rockem sockem , sadie bar the door kite competition.

Deadwood: I thought it was Katie bar the door. Unfortunately or luckily, we have run out of time for today. I know that you have much more to tell us why anyone would come out to watch these matches or to listen to them on the radio. Our of curiosity, just where would a person go to watch the next exhibition?

Shubbs: I’m glad you asked Thurston. Next Tuesday afternoon will be the grudge match for the first place in the Mid-Central Division. It will pit the West Allis Swineherds versus the Aurora Sneakers. The match will be held in West Allis at the Memorial Field a block from Dunwickle’s SuperMart. If you can’t be on hand in person, I will be doing the play by play live on the BigTime Sports Radio network.

Deadwood: Okay this is Thrushton Deadwood. thanking you Kevin Shubbs. Wishing you all the returns of the day and happy sporting to everyone.

Baby There’s Snow Outside

Now that the Christmas Season is officially over, I can finally write this without profaning the special time of year. Snow, it can be a four letter word, loved by some deplored by others and unknown to a small minority around the world. Snow, what about that stuff? For some there’s snow business like Snow business. Skiers, snowmobilers, winter tourists, little kids with snowball fights in mind, skaters, and finally those silly song writers, of which we hear so much of their efforts pouring forth from our radios at this time of the year. Now I like a good old Christmas carol or song better than most. I love to hear Silent Night, Adeste Fidelis, O Come all Ye Faithful, even the Little Drummer Boy. It’s those other non-Christmas songs that fill the airwaves during the Christmas season that really frosts my mistletoe.

There are a number of these offenders, so let’s get right to it. Let It Snow! Right. This guy is telling us to be happy with the snow and let it keep falling from the skies. The weather outside is frightful…it sure is, but that doesn’t bother them. They are painting a picture of a romantic scene by the fire and hoping it never stops snowing. The author is probably some person in southern California or Florida thinking about how nice it is to wish snow on those denizens of the chilly north lands. Maybe they should get out there and drive around in it or spend a couple hours shoveling some of that romantic white stuff. Now Irving Berlin was acclaimed as a great song writer, but he must have been desperate when he came up with that Snow song in White Christmas. They were riding on the train singing about Snow, Snow, Snow, we can hardly wait to see it snow. Something about wanting to wash their hands and face in the SNOW. I’d like to hear somebody up in Minnesota in January humming that tune. These people in the movie are likely not even dealing with real snow in the making of the movie, probably just a pile of Hollywood fake snow is where they are frolicking. But, once again they are repeating the mantra, we need the snow to have fun and be romantic. More false advertising.

Then there is that other annoying song… Baby, its cold outside. We don’t need a song to tell us that up here in the north. You can look at the calendar and know its likely to be pretty chilly out there. This song is just about some couple that are having a romantic evening and one of the parties doesn’t want the other to depart and uses the excuse that its cold outside, so maybe you should stay there. Ok, that’s fine, maybe the guy is a weatherman. But why do they play this song constantly at Christmas time as well? It has nothing to do with Christmas, it is just a winter song which can be played at anytime of the year.
Another old chestnut that is rolled out for consumption each Christmas season is Walking in a Winter Wonderland. Maybe way back in the olden days, people did that for a romantic treat. They are talking about going down to the meadow to build a snowman and call him Parson Brown. Most of the people that live around a meadow, are not likely to be out walking down there to build a snowman and running a name the snowman contest.  Maybe you might let the kids make one in front of the house, but its doubtful that any couples are sauntering to the meadow in the winter to build a snowman. Here is another song on the playlists that has nothing to do with Christmas, but just about having fun in the snow. Good for them, go conspire by the fire and make your plans for walking in the snow.

I hesitate to bring up the next one, but it must be said. Most everyone likes good old Frosty the Snowman. I am sure he was a heckuva fun guy for the kids to hang out with. But his life eventually takes a bad turn when the sun comes out and turns him into a puddle of dirty water. If it wasn’t for his magical hat, we would not even care about him. Great story for the kids and glad they had fun making a snowman, but here is another non-Christmas ditty playing on your radio. Save it for February.

Now the next one on our playlist may not have even been considered , since it is a major player at this time of year. Have you ever listened to the lyrics of Jingle Bells? It is a great up tempo tune, (I give it a 7, but you can’t dance to it) but   maybe  it should be sung in January. These people are dashing around on a one horse open sleigh and having a great time cavorting across the fields in the sleigh. Not much of a Christmas song is it? Who even rides a sleigh these days? It should be updated to dashing through the snow in your snowmobile and make it a January favorite for all the snowmobilers to sing down at the bar at the end of a day of speeding across the trails.
There are some other minor players that we could consider, but are relatively unknown. Doris Day had one titled Snowfall, something about looking out the window at the snow falling. Another one that is related to Christmas, but was one that I hated to hear when I was a kid. It is really kind of a mean song for little kids to contemplate. I don’t think its played much anymore, but when I heard it as a youngster, it really put me into a worried state of mind. It was sung by Gene Autry , and was something about, What are we going to do this Christmas if there isn’t enough snow for Santa to get around, and whether he had to take a bus or a plane. Maybe these days there are few kids that still believe in Santa, but back in those days, it was something to really worry about, no snow for Santa. As adults, we don’t give a crap if Santa doesn’t have enough snow, but for little kids who believe, this was a terrible thing.
There are also those songs that might be Christmas related but can be irritating to hear for the 50th time in just a few days. Number 1 on my list is, Have a Holly Jolly Christmas by Burl Ives. When it comes on, I think I’d like to smack old Burl with a snow shovel to shut him up. I think he is long dead, so I won’t be doing it. I am not a member of BIM, (Burl Ives Matters). His voice bugs me too. Also I think about some of the movies he was in, and he never seemed to be much of a holly, jolly guy. Burl was in it just for the payday.
Another one is, Santa Baby. The original song wasn’t bad, Eartha Kitt did a great job on it. But recently it has been resuscitated by a myriad of female vocalists who make you shudder each time you hear it. They all have to give it their special take on it, and none of them does justice to the original by Eartha.
Finally, we have all the new made up songs. Some of these artists are so desperate to get a Christmas or Holiday album together, they just throw some stuff on the paper and hope that one of them works. They throw in some snow and wishing that their girlfriend or boyfriend was around, They are sitting in a pile of snow while their true love is somewhere frolicking in the sand in a warm spot. They sing about the good old days when they were in love and wish they had a sugar cookie for every time they kissed and fell down in the snow and made snow angels and watched the kids playing in the park. They kind of croon and whine and repeat the lyrics a couple times almost crying at the end and then a Kenny G, wannabe ends the song a a mournful note. Yikes.
My final wish is that they would not start playing Christmas songs as soon as the last little trick or treater has left the porches on Halloween. We are getting sick of many of the tunes even before December begins. The final insult is when they stop playing Christmas songs by six o’clock on Christmas day. It is time to start thinking about Valentine’s Day! Maybe they could transfer some of those Snow songs and make them Valentine’s day carols. Bah, humbug!

Not the Dog Whisperer

There have been television shows and books and movies about dog experts or whisperers, who can teach dogs how to behave and act according to the plan of the trainer. Those are all fine as far as that goes, but I have been lucky enough to have been blessed with the ability to read dog’s minds. I have been called the Dog Mind Reader, the Dog Interpreter and the Dog Analyst. It is a complicated story about how this came to be. It was during my time in the Orient that I stumbled across an old and feeble monk in the backwaters of northwest Thailand. The man was sitting on the ground doing a minimalist impression of a beggar in front of a side street eateria. I almost tripped over him as I made my way out the door, and had to come to a stop to avoid sending us both into the waters of a nearby klong. I helped him up and give him a quick ‘sawadee kha’. He bowed and smiled at me. Even though his face was very wrinkled and his body was weak and shaky, he had a child like twinkle in his eyes. I asked him if needed to get something to eat, and he nodded and pointed into the small chophouse that I had just exited from. I had nothing on my schedule so I went back inside with him and ordered dinner for the old man and another Singha beer for myself. For an old feeble guy, he could really put away the groceries and seemed to know his way around the menu. Before long,the feast was completed and I had drained a few beers while watching him. We got up and I paid the bill and guided the old duffer out the door. I started to say my goodbyes to him when he pulled on my arm and showed me that he wanted me to follow him. I tried to decline the offer, but he insisted and whether it was the food or my imagination, but he had developed a pretty strong grip on my arm. I figured he wanted me to walk him home or meet his wife or something, so I tagged along, but all the while I was looking to make an exit as soon as possible. After about five minutes we came up to a small wooden bungalow on stilts. I once again bowed and attempted to say adios. He indicated that he wanted me to come to the door, he wanted to show me something. Once we reached the doorway, he squatted on the floor and expected me to do the same. I humored him one more time. From a small box, he pulled out a pipe and some matches. He lit the pipe and took a drag on it, and offered it to me. I didn’t want to participate in any Adventures in Opium so I let him know I was not doing any drugs. He said: “..no drugs, feel good – learn much.” He looked and smiled “..you take.” I decided to do a fake pull on the pipe to make him happy and then get ready to be somewhere else. I mistakenly drew more of the smoke into my lungs then expected. A very curious, but quite warm and relaxing feeling came over me. I felt very mellow and calm. All the time the old man kept talking to me and it almost was like singing. He gestured with his hands and began to tell a story, that I could not really understand. Soon, he beckoned to a dog to come to him and he began to pet the dog while he continued his weird chanting. I rested my head against the wall and just let the whole experience wash over me. I don’t know if it was ten minutes or a couple of hours, but I finally found myself in the room by myself, or at least the man was gone and there was just the small dog sitting next to me. I tried to get up quickly, but a voice came into my head,…”don’t get up round eyes, you still weak from smoke. Wait till you all waken up.” I looked around but there was only the dog and no sign of the man. I still felt weak and sleepy and soon dozed off again. This time when I opened my eyes, I felt more awake and aware of my surroundings. I got up and saw that I was all alone in the place. I went to the door and was met with the glare of a hot and steamy morning sunrise. I was not sure what was real and what was just a dream, but I knew that it was time to get back to more familiar surroundings.

As I walked down the street, I thought I heard some voices in my head, but just assumed it was part of my previous nights adventures. Once I had something to eat and cleared my head it would all be ok again. I came around a corner and saw a small dog running in front of me. It looked at me and I thought I heard it say something, but it was just a couple yips and that was it. Later, I cut through an alley like street and two dogs were rooting through some scraps on the ground. I stopped in my tracks, because I heard something more this time. They were speaking Thai, but I could hear them arguing about who saw what first. They looked at me and one barked an obscene insult in my direction and then they both laughed and ran the other way. I thought I must have been still on some kind of trip, because hearing what dogs were thinking or saying was an impossible thing. I was soon on my way back to my hotel and checked into my room and decided that a little food and a long nap would solve my problems. When I woke up later that evening, it all seemed like just a fantastic dream and never gave it another thought.

Until I arrived back home in the States. When I got back home, I went to visit my cousin to catch up on what was up in the neighborhood. My cousin Virgil greeted me at the door, along with his two labs, one yellow and the other black. Shortly after he popped me a beer, I was brought back to my Thai dream. I heard the dogs. “Who the heck is this guy?” “never saw him before, I hope he might be bringing us some treats or will play ball with us.” “being shut up in this house is driving me stir crazy!” I asked my cousin, whether he thought I should take the dogs out into the backyard. “Nah, they love it here in the house, they would rather just sit around here with me and watch tv.” I could hear the dogs thinking about getting outside to stretch their legs and run around a little, but my cousin didn’t want them outside barking and making too much noise for his neighbors. So I gave the dogs a look and shrugged my shoulders and decided to take a ride. I said goodbye to all and began to live the rest of my life. I had many more of these episodes until I finally realized my gift and began to accept it and make it a normal part of my existence.

Which brings me up to the present day. I have a couple dogs at home and have been able to understand my dogs quite well, sometimes to my own detriment. A recent Saturday morning would be a good example. Saturday is a good time to stay in bed and try to catch up on all the sleep you missed during the week. Unfortunately, my dogs have the advantage of sleeping 15 to 20 hours a day, so Saturday morning is no big event to them. Also, I understand that they don’t even know what day of the week it is. They are clever, but simple minded creatures. As I lay in the bed I am brought into awake world by the sound of my dog Herman flopping his big ears back and forth. That is a signal for the other dog, Kevin, to get up and start the day. I keep my eyes shut tight and try to ignore the whole thing. Herman tells Kevin: “go over to his side of the bed and take up a position as close to him as possible and just stare at him. Wait till he opens his eyes.” They don’t know that I can hear them, so I keep my eyes closed and act like I am snoring. I hear Herman say: “he’s faking that, get closer to him and start breathing heavy on him.” I can feel Kevin getting very close to the bed and is just inches from me. I can smell his canine breath on my face. Once again, Herman directs :” ok, start to slowly whine and whimper, like you can’t hold it in any longer, that should get him. I got to go myself and I need to eat, I don’t think we have had anything to eat in a week.” So Kevin begins to whine and I know the jig is up. I slowly roll out of bed, and watch them start dancing around the room. “alright, we got him, we get to go out, we get to eat, we get to eat, we get to go out, we get to eat!!!!!!” On and on they go as they jump and prance around as I lead them down the stairs to the door to go out. It doesn’t take much to keep them happy.

Another recent scenario comes to mind. It is late at night and it is mostly quiet in the house. The television is on and I am reading my book. The dogs are peacefully slumbering, when one gets up and starts walking around. “man, am I bored with this laying on the hard floor stuff, lets have a little fun. ok?” So Kevin pops up and says; “watch this one.” He runs over to the back door and starts barking and howling like the house is under attack. The other one bounds to the door and unleashes the best barks in his repertoire. The barking and braying is almost deafening. I wonder if there is someone or something outside the door. It sounds like there is some kind of danger. I jump up and run over to the door and flip on the outside light switch. Nothing stirring. Nothing there. They stop barking and just turn around to go back to the living room. I hear them laughing to each other: “man, that was a good one, he really flipped out. I have to give you credit, that performance you gave was better than anything Lassie could do.” “awwww, it was nothing, I have done better, but this was pretty good at short notice, that was fun.” So, it was a planned false alarm. I will figure out some type of revenge to do to them tomorrow. Most of the time it is useless to trick them. They always seem to have the upper hand, because they are devious and have no conscience. Sometimes you wonder who is in charge. But, since I understand them I can play the game and win once in awhile.

Another thing that I have found with this talent of reading dog’s minds and hearing their conversations, is that they don’t all speak English. If you go to Europe, the German dogs speak German, the English dogs all have British or Cockney accents. Italian dogs are quite animated and their speech is punctuated with much use of their eyebrows and ears, since they don’t have hands. In foreign countries, there are dogs that know some English if they have been exposed to enough Americans and will use it at times, as they did in Thailand. When I first began to be aware of my gift, I expected poodles to speak with a French accent, and bulldogs to have a British accent, but that was not the case. In America they all speak the same, except for some in the south do have a bit of a southern accent. The dogs do have their faults and they can be quite trying when they want to be, but if you treat them well, they are loyal to a fault. I have heard them talking to each other when they are reclining after a good meal. “You know, the master is just the greatest. He gave us a whole bowl of that great food that we always eat and it tasted so good! Life is good.” The other one says: “you said it Kevin, the chow around here is unbelievable and we get it twice a day and don’t have to work for it either. I wonder what we are having for breakfast, and shouldn’t breakfast be coming pretty soon? Seems like its been ages since we last ate.”

So far, I have never tried to use my talent to make money or fight crime or even find a useful benefit. Most likely, no one would believe me. If you are reading this, you probably think that I am making this up to spin another wild tale. But, it is true and it is something that I have come to deal with along with everything else that comes down the road. I have impressed a few girls when I happened across some dogs playing in a park and showed them exactly what to do to make their dogs happy and mostly obedient. They usually think I am some kind of dog trainer or even a dog whisperer. I just smile and tell them it is nothing but a gift I have. When they ask me for a better explanation, I know that it is time to be on my way.

 

the end

copyright 2017

Say Cheese, Please

The history of cheese is something that few people have ever contemplated. Unless we have an aversion to it or suffer from a gastric revolt when eating it, cheese is a common food that is most likely taken for granted by your average cheese eater. There are so many types of cheeses, we could take a couple days just to mention them all. The intention here, is just to illuminate the minds of the ignorant and provide further edification to fromageaphiles. For this discussion we will only delve into the history of normal cheese. Just like most other foodstuffs these days, the common items have been glamorized, glutttonnized and granulized with multiple additives to the normal food to make it different. Chocolate wine, bacon ice-cream, lobster pudding, onions with anything, tomato cheese, etcetera etcetera, etcetera. For this space we only will discuss the basic of cheese or as we say back in the hood, gemeinsamer Kase.

As we once again refer to the vast libraries of research at the University of TaurusFoemus in Bologna, Italy, we find a reliable tome authored by the internationally acclaimed research scholar, Professor Hans Kaesekopf, of the Manga College. In 17th century Switzerland, Count Karl of Zuckerrube is considered the father of modern day cheese invention and manufacture. Prior to this, there were pedestrian types of every day cheese, but it was most primitive and would be unrecognizable to the present day cheese consumer. Count Karl loved his cheese and experimented with a number of cheeses from his youth. His family owned a large estate which contained a few herds of different types of cows which helped further young Karl’s research. After a number of tries to come up with a new and tastier cheese, some of which landed Karl on his back with stomach ailments of epic contortions, he finally came up with his first success. It was a mild yet tasty cheese, and Karl being a patriotic fellow, named it after his country. Switzerland Cheese, or as we now know it, Swiss Cheese. He liked it very much, but needed to make as much money as possible to further his work, he decided to leave holes in the cheese as it was sliced, so he could charge by the slice, but not have to use as much per slice due to the holes in it. It was a wild success in Switzerland and eventually found its way across the borders of his country.

Now that Karl had secured a little more gold, he expanded his cheese house and began further experimentation. At this time he was married and started having a family as well. He decided that he would discover a new cheese for each child as they were born. So in the next years he invented Emmental which was named after his first son. Next he discovered Gouda and Camembert after his twin daughters. His fourth child, Roquefort, was when he started experimenting with sheep as well as the cows. Now his wife needed a break from child bearing for a period. This did not stop Karl from continuing in his work. His next cheese, Gryuere, was named after his favorite horse, which he rode every Friday afternoon when he would go visit his mistress, Feta, who would be honored by Karl with his next cheese discovery. Now all this fame that was making Karl the king of cheese, did not go unnoticed by others who were envious of him. A neighboring rival, Count Funf, started tinkering and came up with his first cheese and named it after his castle, Chateau Limburger. Although some did appreciate the flavor, many could not get over the aroma. Karl started a rumor that the reason that Limburger cheese smelled so bad was because Count Funf never washed his hands after working in the barns and that resulted in the fragrance of his cheese. Although it was popular with a certain crowd, it never constituted a serious challenge to Karl as he progressed in his work.

He did soon have rivals in other parts of Europe. In Great Britain, a member of royalty, the Earl of Duke, was an avid cheeser and was hard at work coming up with new brands. He was credited with discovering, Stilton, Wensleydale, Gloucester and a number of others, The English were soon inventing types of cheeses for all occasions and tastes. It was rumored in some corners, that the reason for the rapid development of cheese in England was due to the local cuisine. Most of the dishes that were served at the time required a few tumblers of ale and a large plate of cheese to get the whole thing down the gullet. In Scotland, it became the norm for the younger crowd to get through a plate of haggis, that they required it to be wrapped in chili-cheese to grease the skids.

The fame of Count Karl soon spread all over Europe. His cheeses were being consumed everywhere and being copied as well. It was just a matter of time before some rich north Americans were bringing cheese back to the colonies. It became a most popular item very quickly. Soon, people were clamoring for more cheese, but couldn’t wait for it all to come over on the next boat. A resourceful farmer in Pennsylvania by name of Jimbo Funkendelic, invented his own cheese. It was a mild flavored cheese that seemed to go with just about any type of food available at the time. Jimbo wanted to name his invention after himself, but cooler heads prevailed upon him to call his cheese just American cheese. Being an easy going farmer, he agreed and we now had American cheese in America. A sample of this new cheese along with its name quickly made its way back to Count Karl. He was miffed beyond belief. He soon filed a lawsuit in the Court of Supremes in Zurich. He contended that Funkedelic had not only broken the solemn rule, that only the Swiss could have a cheese named after them (since it was invented there) and secondly this new cheese tasted suspiciously like the new cheese he had just invented and named after Queen Velveeta of Switzerland. The lawyers quickly were filing briefs and even some boxers back and forth across the Atlantic with no resolution in sight. Finally, Jimbo decided to try a peace offering. He sent Count Karl a box of jars of his new spreadable cheese called, Whiz. Karl did not tackle to it kindly, but his youngest son, Morty, really took a shine to the Whiz. He would spread it on his pumpernickel toast with a cup of Swiss Miss hot cocoa and would sit contentedly for hours on the slopes of the Heisespritze Mountain, which was situated in the back yard of Karl’s estate. The boy who had been a regular juvenile delinquent until this time was now becoming a happy go lucky kleine junger. Karl decided to settle out of court and agreed to let the Americans keep the name and their cheese, as long as they kept him supplied with jars of the Whiz for Morty.

So there you have it. The elementary and condensed history of cheese. There is much more to the story after this, but you have the basics which would be good enough to get you safely to Final Jeopardy if you have the luck of having the Cheese category.

 

the end

 

copyright 2017

Not So Fast, Food

Of the many things we take for granted these days, trips to the fast food eaterias might be close to the top of the list. MacDonalds, Burger King, Burger Chef, Wendy’s, Taco Bell, and on and on. We also believe that they were all invented for our benefit sometime back in the 1950’s or 1960’s. If you are just a follower of pop culture and the historical blather broadcast on one of the thousands of cable channels and reality shows, you might think that this tale of recent history is correct. With just a minimum of effort and a bit of investigation, we find that this is not true at all. If you happen to peruse some of the ancient tomes and publications at the world renowned University of Taurusfoemus in Bologna, Italy, you will be able to read and enjoy the true history of this industry.

Evidence of possibly the earliest quick food spot was discovered in a dig in Egypt by the respected archaeologist, Dr. Mandrake Hop-Tootsen in 1889. He reported that during his year long excavations along the Nile, he found at least three different structures, each separated by 30 kilometers or more, but each bearing the same name on wooden sign affixed to the door. After translating the hieroglyphics, it read, Nefertetti’s on DeNile. A similar board was discovered in all three locations with a primitive menu, offering the same fare in each spot. Some of the highlights were: Cheops Suey, Cleopatra Salad, Pyramid of Fries, Bowl of Rameses Noodles and drinks were available under Tuts Tankerds. The cost of these items translated into modern currency were all under a dollar each. So this was likely the first Value Menu. It was the theory of Dr. Hop-Tootsen that travelers on the Nile, would pull into these ancient greasy spoons, as they were making their way up the Nile, and stop in for a quick meal and then be on their way. It is believed that with more digging, that it is likely that there was a whole chain of these restaurants the length of the Nile. Further notes indicate that the original owner and founder was none other than Pharaoh SamtheSham.

Centuries later, in another part of the ancient world there was a fascinating discovery in Greece. In a number of digs around the city of Athens the German explorer Helmut Dantine, made another culinary discovery around the year 1897. He found a cache of documents that contained maps, brochures and ancient menus for a string of restaurants that were established in the area of Athens and the then suburbs. There were at least four and maybe more of restaurants which were called Παρθενώνας μικρότερο, which translates to Parthenon Junior. The proprietor of the main restaurant was none other than Homer! The other three known restaurants were documented to be run by Homer’s three sons, Triple, Double and Single. Some of the interesting items on the menu were, Homer’s Gyros, Eggplant Aristotle, Achille’s Eel, Helen of Troy Hotcakes, and wine to go. On the back of the menu, it noted : Homer says:χωρίς πατάτες, τσιπς – which we all know, means —no fries, chips! The prices in drachma were pegged to be affordable for the servants and menial workers of the day. It looked like there were plans to expand the chain to other parts of Greece, but so far there have been no further discoveries to confirm that.

Browsing through the documents at Taurausfoemus, there were even more startling reports. In ancient Rome there is further proof of a continuance of evidence of early fast food emporiums. In an excavation that was made around 1873, by Professor Aldo Cella, of the Collegia de Vino e Mangia in Naples, he unearthed evidence of a string of al fresco eateries that were found throughout the city at around 78 AD or so. The first one was found beneath an old Roman Bath, the street sign said strada di manza or Beef Street. There was a rude metal sign or shield that was shaped in an arch with a gold tinge to it. It was simply called Mario’s. On a piece of board underneath the arch, it was etched, : “sopra IVCM venduto” loosely translated: over 4900 sold. Now what was sold is the hard part. There are only scraps of the ancient menus found in the digs around the city. There was a scroll that was found that showed the locations of over 10 or 15 of these little joints around the city of Rome, including one on Via VIVI. Some of the menu items that were found, were of course Caesar Salad, Nero Flamma on Toast, Pasta al Remus & Romulus, and Tony;s Tiramisu. It looks like you could order a combination of items and it was cheaper than ordering al a carte, it was called pasto di valore and was only five denarii.

There are still others that can me discussed, but time constraints might just leave us with just one  other prominent discovery. On the outskirts of present day Budapest a rich nobleman was building a new castle in 1843 to house all the bric a brac that his new wife, the Countess of Hsnna , had that was overflowing from her current house. When the workers were digging up the basement where the new rumpus room was going to be installed, they came across wooden boards and old eating utensils. A local historian, Duke Smetana, was called in to investigate. He determined that all these objects were from around 440 AD. Further digging revealed tables and chairs and a rustic kitchen. They found pictures of wild horsemen on the walls, and portraits of savage warriors. Translated, the name of the restaurant was called The Hungry Hun. Below that it said: “Be sure to stop at any of our convenient locations as you travel this season.” It then showed a rudimentary map with seven or more red dots on the map. It appears that as the Huns were on their way pillaging and thundering across the vast Hungarian Plain to western Europe, they always had a pretty healthy appetite. Mostly they would just take what they wanted from the local populace as they wreaked havoc in the villages and towns. But according to the Duke, it appeared that sometimes the hurried meal taken from the tables of unfortunate peasants did not always hit the spot. Even though these Huns had the reputation as just a bunch of savage marauders, they still appreciated the chance to sit down and have a nice meal every once in a while. An early entrepreneur by name of Tony Gabor, decided to take a chance and open a couple of small hovels to accommodate the boys. He would offer oxen sandwiches and boar soup with endless, flowing bowls of kumiss to drink. Sometimes his wife Zsa Zsa would sing for their entertainment. He provided free parking and stables for the horses as well. It proved to be a popular idea and he soon had a small chain along the conquest route heading west. Unfortunately for Tony, when Attila died and his empire soon dissolved thereafter, so too did Tony’s food empire.

So as you stop for your next whopper or taco bel grande, remember these great pioneers that came before. Just think, if there only had been some  enterprising American entrepreneurs out there in the Sierra Nevadas back in the winter of 1846, maybe the Donner Party wouldn’t have had to change their menu.

 

 

copyright 2017

What About Pets?

 

Much has been written by researchers, scientists and scholars about the evolution of pets in relationship to man. In a 14th century monograph uncovered in the cellars of the library at Taurusfoemus University in Scarmacci, Italy, the origin of the term PET, was said to derive from the Latin term, petorum, petoribus – meaning: under the control of a lower being. Or you could rely on an entry in an early study by Professor B. L. Ather of Euclid University at Akron, defining PET, as an acronym for People Entertaining Trouble. There have been many detailed studies emanating from the Petology Department at Michigan State University School of Advanced Animal Husbandry, discussing which animal is a pet and which is just a wild animal or farm animal. They have written extensively on the topic. Looking at all this information, we know that there is still much more to learn about this issue, but we can still endeavor to provide some help and further understanding of this complicated discussion.

When first it is determined that there is a strong desire, need or driving force for a person or family to acquire a pet, it is best not to rush into the whole thing. A child may cry to a parent that they want a little kitty cat. Sometimes it is wise not to succumb to the temptation to quickly agree to this notion. Do we really want a cat? What about a goldfish, or a parakeet, a cute little hamster, gerbil, or even a reptile of some sort could be considered. Before we charge headlong into the uncertainties of Pet World, we need to review all the options. Maybe consult with some other known pet owners, not just the pet lovers, but also those who agree to endure the presence of a pet to perhaps ensure “Peace for our Time.” The Neville Chamberlain approach. See what works best for them and what might be acceptable to you and your family situation. Bargaining is encouraged. If we get a cat and a hamster, I get to have a motorcycle, or maybe a weekend in Las Vegas.

So then a period of thoughtful contemplation should ensue. The fish and rodents have short life spans which could be considered as either a negative or positive, the bird might fly away or could live a long time. The snake might slither into activities that are not conducive to undisturbed sleep at night. So what about that cat? Most cats, even with minimal care, seem to live almost forever. You can name them whatever you want, Cuddles, Petunia, Salome, Princess of Piecrustland, or any cute little thing that might come to some juvenile mind. You can name them, but when you call them, they might come to you or most likely not. The cats will do whatever pleases them, and unless you have a can of tuna or a piece of fried chicken in your hand, they are probably not going to come. Now when you take them to the vet for treatment for some sort of cat disease, you can rest at ease. When the nurse or assistant calls out, : “Cuddles Jones, or SweatPea Johnson!” you can jump up and take your kitty carrier up to the kind lady without shame. The other people waiting, will look up and smile and some might say : “what a cute name for a cat, our kitty is called JellyBean!” The dumb cats don’t know what their name is and could care less. They are usually plotting how to escape from you, to run around the house and jump on shelves, furniture and tables. Maybe if its a good day, they might make it outside and kill a couple birds. Cats are an option, but not always the best.

Now you might consider the proud canine. You could get a nice little dog that doesn’t take up a lot of room on the living room floor. When going for a drive, you can have him sit on your lap and you can feed it pieces of Wheatabix when you stop for a red light. Other drivers will be enchanted to watch you driving around with your little doggie in the window. You could arrange to go to a breeder and get some exotic pure bred dog. It will have papers and proof of lineage. Some of these dogs are a little temperamental and suffer from many rare maladies that need constant attention. The vet might present you with a bill for a couple thousand, but after a look from your husband or wife or kid, you will shell out the long green, because you know that it still isn’t as much as you paid for the dog in the first place. In many cases a common mutt is the best option, unless you live in a gated community, then it must be back to an exotic pure bred. The most important thing to do, after you have decided which kind of dog to get, is what to name it. This can be very tricky if not handled properly. Some new owners might not take this too seriously and just settle on any old name that comes to mind. “Oh, we live on Philbert Street, so lets name him Philbert. ” That way if he ever gets lost, he might remember his street name. All quite logical I am sure. But remember, when the doggie is running around outside, and you have to call him in for dinner or bed time, you have to yell and sometimes quite loud: Oh Philbert!!! Philbertttttt! Philbert get in here!” So that name is echoing throughout the neighborhood. You start to regret the quick choice of names. Too late now. Or your wife has been taking French lessons and you happen to adopt a poodle and she has named it, Chanel-cauchemar. Consider yelling that name out the back window at ten o’clock at night. Or, even better when you visit the vet and they say, “…next, Chanel-cauchemar Jenkins” Who is going to walk up to the counter answering to that appellation? Although, most of the other victims sitting in the waiting room, already knew that it was you they were calling. You might decide to adopt a dog with a bit more of a tough reputation. A German Shepherd or pit bull mixture. You know that you can’t name him Buffy or Skippy, so you have to go with something like Mauser or Machete. When they call out that moniker at the vet, most of the others will keep reading their National Geographic or Pets are People Monthly, and not hazard a chance to make eye contact with you or the dog. My suggestion is to go with the safe name like Randy, Duke or Kevin, for a female, you might consider Doris, Betsy or Lassie. Those dogs will know that they have a normal name and they will probably live longer, happier lives and you might too. Good luck and don’t forget that they still have Pet Rocks out there somewhere.

 

 

copyright @2017

 

Coming Soon to your Television screen

Anyone who has spent any time in the past few years watching television, is aware of the overwhelming presence of all the commercials for various forms of medications which are dedicated to rid us of every known malady known to man, and also to a few more that we did not know that we even had. At first, we are excited about the possibility that there may be a cure for that disease or addiction or illness that we or others might have. But right after that pleasant sounding person announces that we are cured, then begins to recite a litany of all the possible side affects that we might be subjected to in the event that we decide to take this cure. It seems like we can’t spend an evening watching just a few minutes of the old tube, without being assailed by these drug companies who say they want to help us. That is the reality that we have at this time.

Being privy to a number of newer advances in the world of medicine, we are at liberty to share them with this limited and minuscule audience that might be reading this at some time. So, when these advertisements eventually are shown at some time in the near future, you might be able tell your neighbors that you knew all about it already. You are among the first to know about these:

UNOSE. An irritation that afflicts many people in American today. When you are driving, or working on a problem, or just having something to eat, it is always annoying to have an urge to scratch or rub your nose because it is itching. Once you itch, it might happen again, you might itch your nose while driving and be forced to drop your cell phone or coffee cup and run off the road. You could be eating dinner and have the urge to itch and you fling a forkful of pasta across the table onto a plate of a person who only can eat gluten-free pasta. This can all be avoided with an application of UNOSE today! UNOSE is a fast acting medication that sends an impulse to your brain and tells you that you don’t have any itch at all. No more embarrassing moments on a date or encounters in the office when you are trying to scratch and someone thinks that its a pick! Say goodbye to ITCH! Say hello to UNOSE! There are some side affects: frequent use can cause swelling of the nasal tissues, causing WC FIELDS nose, or enlarged proboscis. Don’t use UNOSE when you are prone to sneezing, as this can cause inhibited sneezing and exaggerated eye bulging and unpleasant ear-popping. Other reported side affects are thoughts of suicide, matricide, patricide, canineicide, tyrannicide, and some depression. If symptoms persist, stop taking UNOSE and take a nap.

Have you ever pushed back from the dinner table and couldn’t resist the urge to collapse on the easy chair or couch and unbuckle the old belt and take a load off? You feel a little guilty. You just spent twenty minutes really putting away the groceries in style and all you can think of is a nice nap. You don’t even help clean up the table. What kind of person are you? A weak one. What can you do about it? Have you heard about PPA? The technical term is Post Prandial Activity. This special drug was discovered in a cave in Tibet by a wandering ancient hippy. It has worked for years in Tibet and has now been approved for use in America. You sprinkle a little of this tasteless powder across your food before eating. When you shove back from the table, you start your usual approach to the couch, when all of a sudden you have an overwhelming urge to get outside and start some vigorous exercise. Before you know it, you are jogging or biking down through your neighborhood. Neighbors will see you, happily trotting down the block, sometimes with your napkin still inside your shirt. No more sinking into the stuffed chair and taking a snooze after dinner, now you are exercising and working off all that food that you just polished off. No time for that cigarette or beer, you are busy sweating and losing all those calories and unwanted fat. Thanksgiving dinner? No problem. You will be outside throwing around the football with the kids and tackling uncle George if he ever catches the ball. A little PPA, will make your day. Put it on your oatmeal for breakfast and ride your bike to work. Sprinkle it on your bologna sandwich at lunch, and you will be running up the stairs to see what the boss is up to. As with any medication there are some cautions and side affects. Frequent use has resulted in some cases of nausea, vomiting and general malaise when taking and exercising after an opulent dinner. Other side affects have been reported such as heart attacks, strokes and even death by some overweight users, so caution is advised. Do not take PPA if you plan on swimming after eating. If you find yourself climbing a tree after use and then cannot determine how to get back down from the tree, please call the fire department immediately.

Are you thinking about attending your next class reunion? You really want to impress the old gang and let them know that time hasn’t changed you. You might have dropped a few of those unwanted pounds, but you can’t get rid of some of those wrinkles. You don’t have the time or the money for expensive plastic surgery. What can you do? Our scientists and lab workers have heard you and we have a solution. Wrinkle-B-Gone. Now, in just a few hours, and a quick application of Wrinkle-B-Gone and you can hit that dance floor at the reunion, and under any lighting situation, you will look almost like you did in your senior year. You apply WBG to your face, arms and even legs and after an hour or so—it’s MAGIC time, the Wrinkles-B-Gone! Looking in the mirror will astonish you. The miracle of WBG was discovered by accident by a dry cleaner in Brooklyn just a few years ago. Now that it has been approved for human use, we are rushing it out to you today. You will be the envy of the party and your classmates will either think that you are wealthy enough for multiple plastic surgeries, or that you have really taken care of yourself all these years. It’s a win-win situation for you. Now, we are able to send you an 8 ounce bottle of this wonder drug for only $49.95. The reason that it is so affordable, is that it does have some small side affects. First of all, there is the Cinderella affect. WBG is a miracle drug, but one that only will last for 24 hours. So once you apply it, you need to use it right away. After the reunion is over, you have to be sure to scurry home and not be caught out all night at some sleazy bar or motel, because in 24 hours you will be back to your normal look. Due to the toxic nature of WBG, it can only be applied no more than once a month. Anything more frequent has caused slide-stretch affect, which stretches the skin where applied and causes an unnatural smoothing and green coloring which makes your skin slippery and slidey. When applying, we recommend using gloves, because once it is on your fingers, in many cases, it has smoothed them out so completely, that the user was unable to pick up anything with their hands, since they were too smooth for gripping. When ordering, please be sure to ask the operator for our Class Reunion Special Catalog, which features our EZ-ON girdle, Hair Color for U, and a vast assortment of natural looking wigs, extensions and hair pieces. Now you will never again fear going to your class reunion. You will be the talk of the Ball and the envy of those old cheerleaders and jocks. Call Today.

Watch for these and many other new products and features that will be coming to market in the near future.

Yours in science.

 

 

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