Buy low, sell high... or is it the other way around? I always get this confused.

I bought a bass boat once because I thought I liked to fish. I found that I did... only just 'sort of. ' So I decided to sell.

A few years back, when I wanted a bass boat so bad I could just 'taste it,' I drove a hard bargain. The guy wanted $4500 for this gem... said it was worth every penny and a lot more. "Hasn't sunk once," was his big claim.

I, smiling knowingly, countered: "Ever fish around icebergs?"

He, unsmiling, started to walk slowly back to his car, and said... nothing.

I, playing cool as always and looking quite un-anxious as I ran after him waving my arms in the air, said, in a high-pitched voice breaking with emotion, "I'll give you $4400 and not a penny more."

He turned to me and, crossing his arms across his chest, which I know is a sign of faked confidence, said, "$4495."

After wiping away the tear running down my cheek, I stilled my beating heart and reacted calmly to show him that I had won this battle. "I'll take it... please."

(Note to reader: Always be polite. I learned that early-on from a cartoon series called 'Goofus and Gallant' in my Boy's Life Magazine.

A few weeks ago, I thought... "pay-back time" as I posted my little-used bass boat on Craig's list for just $3000--depreciation, you know. I couldn't adopt his old ploy. My bass boat had actually sunk... twice.. with no loss of life I'm happy to report. And no, I was not fishing among icebergs! No more questions.

Very soon, my first 'fish  ; -)' came knocking... and I s-l-o-w-l-y started 'reeling him in.'

"Hmm... " he said eying my boat as he walked around it while scratching his chin. "Ever sink?"

"Been in the water ever since I bought it," I truthfully said.

"Hmm... " he said some more.

Well, I won't bore you with details of the intense interaction and class 'A' salesmanship I threw at him. Needless to say, he was comfortably in the palm of my hand. (He later confessed to me that I had him at Titanic.) This, subsequently, brought about my second happiest boating moment... I sold it on the spot. Best $2000 (every sucker needs a break) I ever earned.

This entire shrewdness on my part, not counting a repair here or there or here or there or here or there, netted me enough to easily pay for all my worms. And what true fisherman wouldn't be happy to figure it only cost about $500 per pound per fish?

OK. Truth is, I had to sell... I just couldn't afford to catch more fish.

So what am I going to do with my windfall? Well, I did see this sculpture I might buy. Memo to self: Be cool. Act like you don't want it... then POUNCE! (It's called 'Walking Man' by some guy... Alberto Giacometti.) Rumor has it that it recently sold for $104.3 million... but I think I can get it from that guy (who is probably suffering from buyer's remorse) for a lot less than that. It just might fill the hole in my heart from the loss of my bass boat.

Proof: Art is fashion and fashion is art

I was here last week (in Louisville, KY) and enjoyed a good art show on a beautiful day. Though the show was not judged or juried,  there were, as you would guess, many wonderful things to enjoy.

I found my favorite where I would least expect it to be... in the stall of a creative artist who uses odd scrap material in fun ways that come out, as you can see, not clunky at all. Well, if you have the talent and imagination, any medium is fair game to enthrall.

So, as one might say in Paris (disclaimer to avoid confusion: Louisville is not Paris): Voila!

If you look closely, you will see that the material is... er, license plates... Kentucky license plates to be exact. And the artist is a talented local, Joel Pinkerton.

This really neat 'piece' is full size, perhaps a six in my imaged eye, with a beautiful contour and style that would look nicely in place on an attractive (tough-skinned) blond... with an appropriate, large brimmed Kentucky Derby hat, of course, (like the one Paris--not Louisville--Hilton is wearing) at the first of horse racing's Triple Crown races this weekend. But that's another story.

 Kentucky Derby-ish type Hat

 

 

 

 

I do think this fits Sophia Loren's ideal: A woman's dress should be like a barbed wire fence: serving it's purpose without obstructing the view.

And it offers a ready-made, slightly modified, pick-up line:  Are you from Tennessee Kentucky because you are the only ten I see. (Hmm... didn't work for me either.)



And while I am talking fashion and art,  It's my darlin , a Seattle street fashion blog is one of my favorites because I love Seattle and I love trendy. (Aside: the Seattle Times has just picked this up for it's Sunday magazine.)
      

"You can fool some of the people all of the time... "

... Or, "There is a sucker born every minute." Either way, I guess I fit in both categories because, for the fifth or sixth time in my life, I paid my money to visit a Ripley's Believe it or Not museum... this one in St. Augustine, Florida, the oldest city in the United States. So I could also say,  "You can't teach an old dog new tricks."

I just keep doing what got me here in the first place...  becoming expert in all the things that don't matter, remembering all the stuff that doesn't count, saying "Gee whiz, look at that," at almost everything that is amazing and in general, stumbling through life reasonably content that I can handle myself at any Trivial Pursuit challenge.

Hmm... on second thought, who wouldn't want to know how many legs an elephant has? Obviously, an elephant has four... er, six... I mean eight legs, one trunk and no tail... approximately. Reminds me of an old joke: What is the difference between a saloon and an elephant's fart? One is a bar room and the other is a BARROOM! (I just threw that joke in so you wouldn't feel reading this post is a just waste of time. I like to call it 'value added.')

Then there is the guy from Pennsylvania who managed to eat his way through a 15-lb hamburger  in just 4 hours 39 minutes... believe it or not! Or that guy with a candle growing out of his head, or Robert Wadlow, the tallest person ever, at 8'-11"... or Chandra Bahadur Dangi, just 22 inches short. All I can tell you is that I know who I want on MY basketball team.

But the thing that always gets me is the tunnel optical illusion... you know, the one where the walls and ceiling revolve around you as you walk through on a floor that does not move. If you can keep from feeling you the one being rotated, then you can probably do a better ballet pirouette 'on pointe' than me too.

I guess I have proved my point. Ripley's is just one amazing thing after another... kind of like a good wax museum, right? (And doesn't everyone have their picture taken as the Pope canonizes them... or standing beside Angelina Jolee? )... everyone... anyone?

 OK, I'll just sign my name and be out of here.

Mamma's House Rules

... And mamma is always right!

One last, important thing my mom taught me about living (and I learned it--a little bit)... in any hardship, richer or poorer, through gout and shingles, broken bones and old age, sad or disappointed... she would always shrug her shoulders, remind herself of what she had to be thankful for and say:

"Into each life, a little rain must fall."

Life Immortal and Death... on the Titanic and Otherwise

It was the biggest ocean liner ever built, at the time... and it was UNSINKABLE! Oh yeah? Well, who's fault was that anyway? The Captain's, of course, because they always get the blame.

May we have a word, Captain Smith?

Glug, glug, glug. (I know... not funny.)

But current science has pointed to God, of all people... or rather the cosmos. (Same difference, yes?)

It has been 100 years, to the month (time flies, doesn't it?) since that tragedy. But just recently, experts have determined a cosmic convergence was actually a co-conspirator. On January 4, 1912, the sun and the moon were in perfect alignment. But what made this even more gravitationally effective is that the moon, in its oscillating orbit, was closer to the earth than any time in the last 1,400 years. As icing on the cake, the earth was at its closest annual proximity to the sun. The tides were exceptional. Ya follow?

The rising sea, it is now theorized, allowed older bergs that had been grounded in the shallow waters off Labrador and Newfoundland, to float loose and enter the busy shipping lanes acting like natural land mines. 1,517 people lost their lives that night.


Now, on to immortality, or, as Buzz Lightyear might say, "To infinity and beyond."  Have you read The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot? Here's a review called Eternal Life by Lisa Margonelli that is a great synopsis:

"From the very beginning there was something uncanny about the cancer cells on Henrietta Lacks’s cervix. Even before killing Lacks herself in 1951, they took on a life of their own. Removed during a biopsy and cultured without her permission, the HeLa cells (named from the first two letters of her first and last names) reproduced boisterously in a lab at Johns Hopkins — the first human cells ever to do so. HeLa became an instant biological celebrity, traveling to research labs all over the world. Meanwhile Lacks, a vivacious 31-year-old African-American who had once been a tobacco farmer, tended her five children and endured scarring radiation treatments in the hospital’s “colored” ward.

"After Henrietta Lacks’s death, HeLa went viral, so to speak, becoming the godmother of virology and then biotech, benefiting practically anyone who’s ever taken a pill stronger than aspirin. Scientists have grown some 50 million metric tons of her cells, and you can get some for yourself simply by calling an 800 number. HeLa has helped build thousands of careers, not to mention more than 60,000 scientific studies, with nearly 10 more being published every day, revealing the secrets of everything from aging and cancer to mosquito mating and the cellular effects of working in sewers.

"HeLa is so outrageously robust that if one cell lands in a petri dish, it proceeds to take over. And so, like any good celebrity, HeLa had a scandal: In 1966 it became clear that HeLa had contaminated hundreds of cell lines, destroying research as far away as Russia. By 1973, when Lacks’s children were shocked to learn that their mother’s cells were still alive, HeLa had already been to outer space."

If this sounds interesting to you, it is worth your time. We not only owe Henrietta for much more than we realize, her cells are the closest thing to immortality that we have... so far. 

Yet another example of  the awsome power of one.

And finally, The Supreme Court has the task of determining if a baby, conceived by deposited sperm cells 18 months after the death of the father, would be considered eligible for Social Security.  In other words, is their life after death? Does posthumous conception count ? Uncle Sam will soon tell us.

There are some things that make sense... then there is the real world

Natural gas is abundant in Colorado... ask anyone who has eaten beans with a friend who just happens to have a lighter. But enough of that. I mean the the natural gas kind that comes from the ground.

There is this woman, says a reporter, "who has so much natural gas in her water supply that she can turn on a faucet, flick a lighter and watch flames shoot up from the sink (so she) tells authorities that she fears for her life. See," says the reporter, "this is the problem with Americans today. All they do is whine, whine, whine. Even more egregious is that the woman is being billed for several cubic feet of natural gas every time she brushes her teeth."

 In a small Italian village near Naples, the mayor has decreed that, because his village has no cemetery--and is feuding with a neighboring village that does, it is against the law to die in Falciano del Massico. "Unfortunately," said the mayor, "two elderly citizens disobeyed." Put your troubled mind at ease, the city won't prosecute. Those law-breakers however, still have to answer to 'a Higher Power.' However, if this thing works, just think of the tourism implications. Take that Lourdes.

Today's puzzler: Tell me the 10-letter name that includes the letters zkzkwrys. No, it really is a name. Hint: the two missing letters are vowels... and the y does not go at the end. Another hint: be 'un'hooked on phonics. Final hint: the name is pronounced shashefski. Yep. Duke Basketball coach Mike Kryzewski is the one that even the best spell-checker programs always underline in red. Some call him "Coach K," even though the "K"sounds like a "shu." (Is that what they teach at Duke?) UNC and NCState fans, in their moments of disgust, refer to him as 'The Mole." I wonder where they get that?


Meanwhile, the mayor of Buford, Wyo. has decided to sell the town between Cheyenne and Laramie  to the highest bidder. How do the Bufordians feel about that? Well, it is unanimously okay. The town only has a population of one... His Honor.

And finally, all it takes is a little gall and you can (try) to get away with anything:

• An accused murderer is suing the couple he held hostage while hiding in their home. He wants his victims to pay him $235,000. He says they breached their oral contract to stay put by escaping as he slept, "resulting in my being shot in the back by authorities."
• The two thieves who stole an Oregon man's car and later crashed it while driving drunk, are suing the owner. They say they wouldn't have been injured if they weren't driving his car. Well, they are right, you know.
• A New York City convict is asking $1 million from prison officials because they had no green jumpsuits to fit his size 7X, 400-pound body. Says he suffered emotional damage by spending eight months in jail wearing the same T-shirt and sweat pants--washed occasionally, I presume. Otherwise, give him the money. 

Here's what I think about that:

Thinking... thinking... thinking. Hmm: 

 I think records are made to be broken... but come on now! A recent scientific study seemed to show the speed of light--186,000 miles per second-- a physical absolute proven in 1905 by Albert E (=mc2) Einstein, is a wrong! Like the four-minute-mile, Lou Gehrig's consecutive game streak or Wilt Chamberlain's 100-point game, some records seem made to stand, forever out of reach... until proven they aren't.

Well, take that Einstein... the speed of light record is no more... or is it? Tests did show an atom-like particle called a neutrino was a few feet per second faster than what was believed to be the physical speed limit. Was Einstein disgraced? Absolutely not! When the test figures were checked, it seems the geniuses who thought they were smarter than Einstein had forgotten to carry the 2 in their addition of data. So the winner and still champ is... ta dah... Albert "the incredible" Einstein. Nice goin' Al.

I also think...

... that slavery is a terrible scar on mankind. But when a group seeking to free the whales at Sea World filed suit on the whale's behalf, claiming constitutional protection against slavery, a mean-spirited judge said the 13th amendment applies only to humans. (Can Sea World be so bad when it has a playground for children called Shamu’s Happy Harbor?)

Still thinking...

I think that it is incredible that we have finally reached Lake Vostok, a never-before seen freshwater lake that lies 2.2 miles below the glacial surface of Antarctica. This treasure is expected to provide many clues about long ago life on earth. I think it is even more incredible that it took a the scientists 10 years of continual drilling to reach the lake. Sounds exactly like my dentist when I was a kid.

And...

I think is is amazing that a Masai warrior with a smartphone on Google has access to more information than the president of the United States did just 15 years ago. What does that tell us about Bill Clinton?

 
But then...

I think the Florida senate is crazy. By a 37-1 margin, it voted to legalize no-hands bike riding. Don't they realize how dangerous that could be? (Oh, hey... I get it now.)




 And finally...

I think congratulations are in order to us, the world. We are making real progress in better ways to kill more people. The pros at Sandia National Laboratories in New Mexico have invented a bullet that directs itself to a target like a tiny guided missile. While flying through the air, it can make as many as 30 corrections a second to kill someone more than a mile away. Now that's progress!

Introducing "The Shinola Awards"

If you couldn't tell good from bad... had no common sense at all... or were as dumb as a box of rocks, people used to say, "You don't know s**t from Shinola (a popular, high quality shoe polish back when people actually polished their shoes)." Dolly Parton even wrote a song, "You don't know love from Shinola," for her 2008 Backwoods Barbie album.

Shinola was the colloquial standard for 'good' when contrasted with 'bad.'

It is in this humble context then, that I have chosen to honor those often unsung individuals who deserve a "Shinola" because, by their actions or attitude, they stand above the crowd and make us all feel good.

The honor of sharing the first ever "Shinola" award (which is appropriate because it is all about sharing) goes to Californian Rick Ruzzamenti and an unnamed desk attendant at the yoga studio he used.  The attendant told Ruzzamenti that she had just donated her kidney to an ailing friend she had bumped into at a store.  That sounded so noble that he, in an impulsive moment, decided to donate one of his kidneys to a stranger.

And because of his donation (according to the New York Times excellence in telling the story) an extensive chain of swaps for the best donor-recipient matches within the National Kidney Registry of those awaiting a life-saving kidney transplants, was begun. In the end, over four months of lockstep cooperation and innovations in computer matching, surgical technique and organ shipping, 30 healthy kidneys were matched with 30 desperately needy recipients among 17 hospitals in 11 states. This was the largest "play it forward" kidney swap ever accomplished, and demonstrated the potential for kidney exchanges to transform the field.

I have had one friend die for lack of a kidney and another, blessedly receive that gift of life just recently. What makes these donations more impressive is that one doesn't have to die to pull it off.

I am a registered organ donor. And you?

This "Shinola" carries the name Rob Nuggent, but is also shared.  Here's the story as capsuled in a letter from the Gettysburg Athletic Director to the Washington College President and Athletic Director:


On behalf of the Gettysburg College community, I want to write and thank you for creating an atmosphere of outstanding sportsmanship at Washington College. On Saturday, your men’s basketball coach, Rob Nugent, along with his coaching staff and student-athletes, displayed a measure of compassion that I have never witnessed in over 30 years of involvement in intercollegiate athletics.
 
Cory Weissman, a senior player at Gettysburg, suffered a life-threatening stroke while weight training during the off-season of his freshman year. Cory worked daily to rejoin the basketball team after the stroke left him paralyzed on one side of his body. He hadn’t played a minute since the stroke, as he still struggles to run. 
 
Because we were celebrating Senior Day on Saturday, our coaches arranged to have Cory start, and after the tip he would resume his spot on the bench. Rob gladly agreed to this request and the game proceeded as planned. The most exceptional point in this story came in the closing minute of play.
 
The outcome of the game was determined, so our coach reinserted Cory into the game.  Upon noticing this, Rob called a timeout. He must have instructed his players to let Cory get the ball and then intentionally foul him so he might have a chance to score a point.
 
According to our coach, this was not scripted, but instead Rob’s idea.
 
The gymnasium was packed with Gettysburg fans as we were also celebrating the 2011 women’s lacrosse team winning the national title with a ring and banner ceremony at the conclusion of the basketball game. Cory went to the line and proceeded to miss the first free throw. Amazingly, he made the second and will graduate in May having scored a single point in his collegiate basketball career – thanks to Coach Nugent and the WC basketball program. 
 
I cannot tell you the number of people that have told me how impressed they were with how Coach Nugent and the WC team handled themselves. I might also mention that during the senior recognition at the beginning of the game, the entire WC contingent gave Cory a standing ovation and during player introductions, Coach Nugent gave him a hug.
 
I have never been more proud to be associated with the Centennial Conference and Division III of the NCAA. I am still in awe of what I witnessed on Saturday and wanted you to know the details.”


Sometimes it is hard to single out just one hero where you know there are many... but it all starts somewhere... sometimes in the most subtle of scenarios, and often is unknown or unobserved except in the hearts of a few.

Best part of this post is that I didn't make any of it up... not that there is anything wrong with that.

Asleep at the switch... that's all I can say. Sadly, I missed the bidding on pop artist Roy Lichtenstein's 1961 painting, I Can See the Whole Room!... And There's Nobody In It! I had an extra few hundred bucks burning a hole in my pocket and I was ready. It finally sold for a record $42,202,500, and who knows, in the excitement of the auction, I probably wouldn't have let it get away from me.

As beautiful as it is (and strangely, I really do like it), I still marvel at how he came up with the title which, just coincidentally I'm sure, is the same as the words in the painting. Now how often does that happen?

Point of reference: Pablo Picasso's 1939 Femme assise, robe bleue went for $29,133.148 (somebody saved two bucks) and Clude Monet's 1891 Les Peupliers brought $25,282,500 at Christie's Auction House this year, bad economy and all. Ahh, The Power of 1 (percent).

Me? I finally found a magnificent sofa-sized Starving Artist painting (the one with cows in it) for only $49 bucks--frame included--and I've got money left over! I'm working on the offering letter to Christie's as we speak.

If you care about your health, you'll care about this... or not.

There are 5,200 (give or take a few hundred) medical journals published in the U.S. today... most, sad to say, without cartoons. There is everything from Head and Face Medicine  to Foot Injuries and Disorders, with illustrations to make you cringe. Perhaps that is why Big Fat Whale cartoonist Brian McFadden's fictitious Journal of Obscure Medial Conditions is my favorite.

His magazine details Bacon Intolerance, Crazy Racist Hands, Chronic Cheeto Fingers, Humor Blindness, Restless Lungs Syndrome, Jizz Breath, Constant Sarcasm Disorder and Anal Pooping... all the things to cause us concern. Have a look-see at his very technical drawings that, by themselves, give us something more to worry about... him.

Melinda Beck, Wall Street Journal’s health reporter, talks about the medical market's wide range, citing  “Applied Immunohistochemistry & Molecular Morphogrphy (really) to Gut,”

But, she suggests, maybe 5,200 is not enough. “I think there should be two more… Duh! for findings that never seemed to be in doubt in the first place, and  Huh? for those whose usefulness remains obscure, at least to lay readers.

“Duh!’s first issue could include findings such as these:

• Toddlers become irritable when prevented from taking naps.
• Cats make humans do what they want by purring.
• TV crime dramas inaccurately portray violent crime in America
• People with high IQs make wise economic decisions.

"Huh?’s first issue could contain these head-scratchers:

• Men are better than women at hammering in the dark.
• Young orangutans, gorillas, chimpanzees and bonobos laugh when tickled.
• Neither alcohol (in him) nor makeup (in her) affect a man’s ability to guess a woman’s age.
• The more abundant the hair, the greater the tendency to collect belly-button lint.”

I always thought the greatest mystique doctors hold is that  “We know stuff you don’t.” So how is one going to retain that aura if there aren’t thousands of findings to read about and interesting tidbits to drop in a timely manner?

“Actually, Mr. Jones, your enormous quantity of belly-button lint is because you are so, er, hirsute… not to worry. And by the way, Jones, don’t tickle your orangutan or he may slap you on the back in delight... and you know how strong they are. And don’t believe everything you see on TV. Now, go home and hammer in the dark, then take two aspirins and call me in the morning. That will be $79 dollars.”

“Thank you, Doctor... you are so knowing. Just send the bill to my insurance company.”

Guess who died?

When Ernie Kovacs died in 1962, he was noted as the most avant-garde comedian of his day... a guy way ahead of his time. One of his bits on his television show was "Mr. Answer Man." When asked, "If the earth is round, how come no one falls off?"

"My good man," he responded, "people are falling off all the time."

Dick Tufeld died this week at age 85. If you are old enough, you know him as the voice of Robbie, the robot in an old TV series, Lost in Space. "Danger! Danger Will Robinson," was his classic line. He had a great announcer voice and was in so many of the TV shows and movies of that era that you would know him if you were alive then.

As Ernie Kovacs might say, people die all the time. Closest of those to my heart is my mom. She died last week. She was best known as a wonderful lady filled with wit, charm and kindness. In a nursing home suffering dementia her last years, she was still a character.

Just last fall, she was sitting half asleep in her wheel chair between my wife and me during one of our visits. For no apparent reason, she opened her eyes, looked at us and asked, "You know that old saying, into your arms I fly and there, I shall gladly die?"

After a brief pause for timing, she concluded. "That's a bunch of crap."

Pretty darned good for someone 98 years old. But then she was pretty good herself. Thanks mom. Love you.

So at last, The Three Stooges are proven BRILLIANT! (I knew it all the time.)

I ALWAYS thought the Three Stooges were brilliant. As a bright young man myself, I could see raw intelligence seeping through their every move. 

Who could have said it better than Curly when he exclaimed "Nyuk nyuk nyuk!" as Moe stepped into a paint bucket while reeling from an opening door hitting him in the face causing him to back into Larry who was carrying a long lead pipe and turning to see what happened when the pipe swung and whacked Moe again in the back of the head? How dramatic. How spontaneous. How cogent. HOW BRILLIANT!

And that was 77 years ago (1935 for the not so quick) in a film shunned by 'The Academy' (those idiots) called Hoi Polloi... the colorized version. Now how does this prove the Stooges were leap-years ahead of science and, in a word, BRILLIANT? Pay attention.

First, the background:

In this Stooge adaption of Pygmalian, Professor Richmond, who believes it is environment, not heredity that dictates social behavior, bets Professor Nichols $10,000 that he can take three unsophisticated  men and, through environment and proper training, turn them into gentlemen. By some strange quirk of fate, the Stooges were found as unsophisticated garbage men (not that there is anything wrong with that) and deemed to be the perfect subjects for the wager.

After many attempts to teach them proper etiquette (including dance lessons punctuated by an errant bee down the instructor's bodice), the Stooges are introduced at a fancy society party.  It does not go well. Curly pulls a thread on Moe's jacket and the jacket falls apart. Larry and Moe prove to be the world's worse dancers with the biggest feet and Curly shaves in front of guests, gets his foot stuck in a spittoon, plucks a cherry from the punch bowl and battles Moe who kicks him in the butt, causing the champagne bottle Curly is holding to erupt, spraying all the guests.

Eventually, Professor Richmond concedes his experiment is a failure and forks over the $10,000 to Professor Nichols who, in turn, makes an apology to a lady guest for the rowdies. The lady, now fully indoctrinated,  is offended by the remark and slaps the professor in the face. Richmond laughs and in turn gets slapped by Nichols. Then all the other guests start laughing and slapping and gouging until the party gets helplessly out of control. 

The Stooges, disgusted by it all, realize this is what they get for associating themselves with the hoi polloi and leave... but not before the professors conk champagne bottles over their heads.

Flashback forward to present. (Got that?)

Just today, the international journal Nature reported on a new study that tried to quantify the DNA effect on IQ by tracking changes of intelligence over a person's life. The study concluded that only 24% of the life-span changes in intelligence could be linked to genes... and an amazing 76% to environmental factors. 

Those Stooges... They knew that way back when. In fact, they thought their contribution to science was so significant that they remade this film twice more... in 1946 as Half-Wits Holiday and in 1958's Pies 'n Guys. Didn't anybody ever watch and learn? As is often the case, true genius isn't recognized until years later, postumously. Where are you Mr. Nobel?

C'mon science, get with it... and if you haven't clicked the Hoi Polloi link in the third paragraph, do it now! It's worth it. Nyuk nyuk nyuk!

PS: Thanks Wikipedia, for the background info.

About rich dead people, space, God and the genius of advertising

Forbes Magazine has done it again! In it's annual survey of the 400 richest people, it also gave us the top dead earners, and to no one's surprise, Michael Jackson again led the list.

Last year, dead, he still managed to squeeze out $170 million. How does he do it when so many still can't get a job... and they aren't dead! He's Michael Jackson, for god's sake, that's how.

Dead Elvis earned $55 million. Dead Marilyn was third at $27 million followed by Dead Peanut's creator, Charles Schulz at $25 million. Pity poor dead John Lennon ($12 million), Dead Liz ($12 million) and Dead Albert Einstein at $10 million. How do they get by?

Milky Way as seem from my house

Our Milky Way galaxy has surprised us again. We now know with scientific certainty that our sky holds at least 100 billion planets, many of which, it is reasonably believed, can sustain life. So it is entirely possible, say those who theorize, that there is... or has been life, maybe like ours--give or take better or worse. Well, admit it... Superman HAD to come from someplace.

More mind-boggling to me is that, in nearly 14 billion years since the big bang, other worlds like ours may have already come and gone... like Krypton. Well, who can say we aren't as sophisticated and advanced as any of those. After all, we are increasingly advancing in so many ways that today, it would be really easy for just a few to destroy us all... and we're getting better at it all the time. Now THAT'S progress.

The "hot foot"

I don't know who will be our next President, but I do know that, according to Rick Perry, Herman Cain, Michele Bachmann and Rick Santorum, they were all told by God to "Go for it." Makes you feel sorry for Mitt and Newt, doesn't it? Isn't that kind of like both teams praying for victory before the big game though? And how come God isn't a Cub fan? Could it be that God is also a practical joker who enjoys giving a good "hot foot" just like the rest of us? "Ow!" say Rick and Herman and Michele and Rick.

Air New Zealand came up with a unique advertising campaign a while back. They recruited 30 people to be "cranial billboards." All these folks had to do was shave their heads and have New Zealand slogans tattooed where everyone couldn't help but notice. So if you passed a sharply dressed bald man or woman with "Need A Change? Head Down to New Zealand," tattoo, you have been solicited. The living billboards were paid with airline tickets.

A British on-line beauty products store recruited 10 men and women to apply temporary tattoos with the company's Web address on their eyelids and then wink at strangers. They were paid, at the time, about 10 pence a wink ( $150) for their work.

This all started about 10 years ago when an on line gambling site paid a middleweight boxer to wear a temporary tattoo promoting its web site as he was pounded on it's "Hit me again" logo.

I guess that's how the "I'm with stupid--->" tee-shirts came about. Just call me "Stupid" I guess because I've got this natural bald head and no endorsements. What a waste. I was thinking... "Hmm, maybe Target has a trademark for me."

Freebie: Haiku's are easy
               but sometimes the don't make sense
               refrigerator.

Yeah, I didn't get it either.

Oh no! The cost of becoming a multi-millionaire just doubled! Please say it ain't so.

How unfair is that? The cost of a Powerball ticket just DOUBLED... from one buck to two! I am going to start a movement... OCCUPY EASY STREET. Who's with me on this? If enough of us with real conviction get together, we could change the world... and become part of the 1%.

BUT WAIT A SECOND!

What am I thinking? Even though my ticket to fat city just increased 100%, the odds of winning dropped from 1 in 195 million to 1 in 175 million, making it almost a sure thing. And if the cost increases... AND the odds decrease, the payoff would naturally increase dramatically.  That $340 million record jackpot will seem like chicken feed now. Shucks... talk about me looking at the glass half empty... When will I ever learn?

What this really means is that my financial future has gone from peiodically lowering the projected age of my death--and I'm already underwater--so dollars meet need, to WHOOPIE! Free strawberry ice cones for everyone... on me!

As to how I plan to use the money... with benevolence, of course. My friend to be, Steve Martin, getting serious on SNL in 1991, laid it all out in his Christmas wish:

If I had one wish that I could wish this holiday season, it would be that all the children to join hands and sing together in the spirit of harmony and peace. 

If I had two wishes I could make this holiday season, the first would be for all the children of the world to join hands and sing in the spirit of harmony and peace. And the second would be for 30 million dollars a month to be given to me, tax-free in a Swiss bank account. 

You know, if I had three wishes I could make this holiday season, the first, of course, would be for all the children of the world to get together and sing, the second would be for the 30 million dollars every month to me, and the third would be for encompassing power over every living being in the entire universe. 

And if I had four wishes that I could make this holiday season, the first would be the crap about the kids definitely, the second would be for the 30 million, the third would be for all the power, and the fourth would be to set aside one month each year to have an extended 31-day orgasm, to be brought out slowly by Rosanna Arquette and that model Paulina-somebody, I can't think of her name. Of course my lovely wife can come too and she's behind me one hundred percent here, I guarantee it. 

Wait a minute, maybe the sex thing should be the first wish, so if I made that the first wish, because it could all go boom tomorrow, then what do you got, y'know? No, no, the kids, the kids singing would be great, that would be nice. But wait a minute, who am I kidding? They're not going to be able to get all those kids together. I mean, the logistics of the thing is impossible, more trouble than it's worth! 

So -- we reorganize! Here we go. First, the sex thing. We go with that. Second, the money. No, we got with the power second, then the money. And then the kids. Oh wait, oh jeez, I forgot about revenge against my enemies! Okay, I need revenge against all my enemies, they should die like pigs in hell! That would be my fourth wish. 

And, of course, my fifth wish would be for all the children of the world to join hands and sing together in the spirit of harmony and peace. Thank you everybody and Merry Christmas.

Hold on a minute... I've just been handed a note from my wife: "Hey Jerkface... you have to buy a ticket before you can win the lottery."

"Honey... Oh honey... you forgot to put a smiley-face on the bottom of your note like you always do."

If I had an extra $3.5 Million right now, I know exactly what I would do.

I would buy a 30-second television ad spot during the upcoming Super Bowl XLVI (which, for those not familiar with Latin or don't have enough fingers, is 3-1/2 baker's dozen, give or take half a donut).

My commercial would feature a clever little video starring all my grandchildren--with the oldest, now 15 and really good at driver's ed, at the wheel--in a dramatic car chase through the streets of San Francisco... you know, like flying over the steep hills and careening down the crookedest street in the world... stuff like that. (Been done before? Not like this, it hasn't.)

The video would feature every cute grandchild in the car, all dressed alike in a nice plaid or paisley--for color harmony, of course--screaming, laughing, saying clever things and daring fate in a way that makes Indiana Jones look like a girl scout (not that there is anything wrong with that)... and cats, of course to capture those who hate kids but love cats... with fast, dramatic, heart-pounding music.

The car would finally race toward the outgoing ferry to Sausalito as it was pulling away, jumping the Bay and the widening gap between pier and deck, finally doing a screeching 180 halt on the deck (so the front of the car is facing the camera). Then, the cutest of the grandkids (you know who you are, right?) would hop--or crawl--out of the car, look into the camera and say, for all 100 million billion riveted fans (those not going to the bathroom), "Read papa's blog, Itsnutsoutthere.blogspot.com ... so it can go viral!"

Closing shot features the blog's web address as the music sweetens... image fades to black, then cuts to the announcer who says, "And now, on to the game."

Now THAT'S what I'm talking about.

I'm sure I would get my money's worth--only $3.5 million per 30-seconds (about $167,000 per second)--because good commercials in the Super Bowl, do. Remember the year's best commercial-- the one with the Star-Wars theme showing the cute little boy in a Darth Vader costume? The one where he tries to use "the Force" on his dog, and other stuff, then amazes himself as he tries it on his dad's VW Passat in the drive... AND IT WORKS!

It was the most popular ad on YouTube with more than 45 million views... and the spot generated over $100 million in free publicity. Not coincidentally, the Passat had more sales in its first two months on the market that the previous model sold in all of 2010.

How about the Kraft Foods ad featuring Ted Williams, the homeless man with the magic voice? Though Williams didn't fare as well personally as he couldn't shake his problems, the Kraft people say the Macaroni & Cheese product Facebook page following increased 430 % and sales of the brand grew 13% in the first quarter of last year.

Chrysler hit it big with rapper Eminem taking the viewer through the streets of Detroit in the new Chrysler 200, touting the city and Detroit pride in automaking. Hint: nostalgia, humor and touching story lines work. Inquiries for the car increased 328 % after the ad appeared... and 77,774 Chrysler 200s sold in the 11 months that followed--three times the number of the car's predecessor.

Oh yeah, baby. That's what I'm talking about. Results that make $3.5 million for the spot look cheap... unless you do it wrong.

Yes, some ads flop... but the difference between the good and the bad is often execution... and that sometimes define the fate of the advertiser and its agency... "We love you." or "You're fired." The inevitable logic, and the thing that drives advertising, is that good ads work. It is human nature to be smitten.

Oh, darn! Just tried to place the order for my blog commercial for this year's Super Bowl... and they are sold out, Oh well... there is always next year. And take it from me... as a Cub fan, I know what "Wait til next year" means.

The Power of One

OK, so you've heard it before... but one more time, to make a point: Two men were walking on the beach, naturally littered with washed-on-the-shore starfish. Every few steps, one of the men would stop, pick up a starfish and throw it back into the sea. After this had happened about half-dozen times, the other man chided him.

"Why are you doing that? There are thousands of starfish on the beach. You can't really make a difference."

First man flipped the starfish he was holding back into the ocean. "I can to that one."

Interesting thing about The Power of 1... it can be so subtle that you don't even know when or how you affect someone. It often manifests itself without your knowledge or conscious effort... like being a good example, or smiling to a passer-by who needs a smile. It can be overwhelmingly incredible like grabbing hold of a stranger's elbow as he is about to step off the curb into an approaching car. It makes a difference...often an amazing difference.

Their names are Violet and Allen Large of Nova Scotia and you probably never heard of them... but that's the thing about the Power of 1... heroic actions are usually not notable for who, but what and how. Being a hero is often a selfless, quiet action that positively affects others. Though Violet is currently fighting cancer,  the Larges, who won $11 million in a lottery last July, donated the entire amount for various causes including their local fire department, hospitals and organizations that fight cancer, Alzheimer's and diabetes. Said Allen, "The money that we won was nothing. We have each other." 

Hollywood has a neat way of showcasing the Power of 1. Movies (and television, books, etc.) can show the perspective of all the characters and showcase cause and effect actions. How about a seasonal example: It's a Wonderful Life showed the greatness of George Bailey in the way he lived his life of personal character without ever realizing the positive effect he had on those he touched. (I love that movie.)

An organ donor talked about in the news recently, saved a dozen strangers by his donations... and the film clip showed the donor's wife listening to her deceased husband's heart beating in another's chest. Very powerful. (You an organ donor? You should be.)

And this season, how about Santa? Oh yeah! the Power of 1... in hearts and minds.

Most of us celebrate Christmas because of one man born about 2000 years ago. Need a better example of the Power of 1?

May your holidays be blessed and the New Year bring a resolve to unleash your Power of 1 for a richer you.  (PS: Nice going you secret Walmart layaway angels. You make a difference!)

It's Howdy Doody Time!

It may be hard for some to believe, but starting in 1947, one of the best things ever, if you were a kid was The Howdy Doody Show on television. Wow! When Buffalo Bob Smith asked, "Kids... What time is it?" every kid in the Peanut Gallery hollered: "IT'S HOWDY DOODY TIME!" Funny how a puppet show could captivate an audience. We are much more sophisticated today  ; - ) with The Simpsons, Family Guy, The Muppets, etc. but even in its earliest days, television just knew what we liked.

Television was in its infancy and most of America didn't even have a TV set yet. We watched at grandma's house... got our programs from Chicago via a huge, ugly antenna on her roof. When reception was good (i.e. you could make out what was happening through all the 'snow' on the screen) and a call went out to the neighborhood: "Come quick. Television is coming in tonight."

All television was seen in black and white... and there were only three networks--no ESPN, MTV, HBO or anything else... and television went off the air at midnight or 1 a.m., replaced with a "test pattern" Programming was all 'live,' which meant we saw everything as it happened... slips, flubs and all... and we watched anything and everything.

test pattern

The first coaxial cable, which enabled television to be broadcast all over America at the same time, happened just 60 years ago. And it absolutely blew everyone's mind to think that a person could actually see the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans at the very same moment--live!... from anywhere there was a TV set.

Yep. That was technology then. And to place it in time, these were some of the prices:

Car: $1,800
Gasoline: 27 cents/gal
House: $16,000
Bread: 16 cents/loaf
Milk: 92 cents/gal
Postage Stamp: 3 cents
Stock Market: 269
Average Annual Salary: $4,200
Minimum Wage: 75 cents per hour

Garroway with co-host J. Fred Muggs

I Love Lucy was the first sitcom... you've seen reruns... and it was truly good.  Edward R. Murrow had one of the first news shows like the network news of today. Dave Garroway was the first 'Matt Lauer' of the Today Show, all the way back in 1952. His co-host for a time was a monkey--really! The Milton Berle show and The Ed Sullivan Show were the precursors of the variety and entertainment shows of today... and The Sid Caesar Show with Imogene Coca was Saturday Night Live before there was an SNL. If you think I'm kidding, take a look on YouTube.  Everything old is new again. Funny how that works, but does.

Alvin Tolfer, in his 1970 book, Future Shock, said there was so much change in such a short period of time, that if all of man's technological and scientific growth on earth were represented by a two-lane highway, from the first man to 1940 would be from one edge of the road to the middle line. Then 1940 to 1970 would be the other lane of the highway. And that was then! He also said, "The illiterate of the 21st century will not be those who cannot read and write, but those who cannot learn, unlearn, and relearn."

One of the few constants is television programming. Technology has changed--sophistication in production, color and timeliness represents maturity--but we are still the same, simple-minded viewers of programming of the same genre... with hundreds of networks to burn our minds. Will we ever learn?

My... time sure flies when you are having fun.

To infinity and beyond...

Sounds like Buzz Lightyear... but this one is real!

Back in 1977... remember (if you were born by then), we all had shag carpet and avocado green refrigerators in our homes... oh, and if we were really cool, we wore leisure suits. And if we lived in New York City and wanted to visit Aunt Betty and Uncle Bernie in Denver, we usually drove.

Let's see... that is about 1680 miles or so. At 70 mph ( heavy foot/lots of coffee), we could get there in just 24 hours of drive time. Pretty impressive.

Consider this: In 1977, the United States launched two space craft--Voyager 1 and Voyager 2--to soar past Jupiter, then Saturn. Well, they did. In fact, by 1989, just 12 years later, they blew by Neptune, about 3 billion miles away from Earth. And having no brakes, they just kept going.

Now, 34 years later, traveling at about 38,000 miles per hour (about 10 miles per second) without bathroom breaks, refueling or flat tires, these two buggers are about to leave our solar system, 12 billion miles away--a far cry from Denver--and about to cruise interstellar space. They are so far away, in fact, that it takes signals, which travel at 186,000 miles/second, 13 1/2 hours to reach Earth.

Another amazing piece of data... the two space probes run on nuclear power using less energy that it takes to light three average lamp bulbs, so it really doesn't matter that the price of gas keeps rising. The 23 watt high-grain antenna uses less power than a refrigerator bulb.

This is us, to all ETs paying attention

Each craft also carries a golden record that holds analog images and sounds of Earth... just in case someone out there cares to listen. Of course, this is before digital so they (whoever 'they' are) may need an old fashioned record player... just like the one I have for sale for only $25. Isn't putting buyer and seller together always the toughest part?

Now, how do you answer the proverbial question: "Are we there yet?" We really don't know for sure. There are, astronomers say, one trillion galaxies containing three septillion (3,000,000,000,000,000,000,000) stars--yet to explore. So what happens when Voyager reaches the extreme edge of the universe as we know it? We'll find out in just 13.7 light years (at 186,000 miles per second). Truth is, the journey may be just starting.

TO INFINITY AND BEYOND!

It's a wierd, wierd world out there...

But miracles do happen: Take for instance, the man from Zimbabwe who was charged with having sex with a donkey. He told the court that, yes, he did pay a woman $20 for sex... and she miraculously 'shape-shifted' (read transformed) herself from a female to a donkey and tied herself to a tree.

"Your worship," he told the judge, "I only came to know that I was being intimate with a donkey when I got arrested."

Chalk up one miracle for the woman/donkey. Only three more required to meet one requisite for sainthood in the Catholic Church. But the road to sainthood is paved with difficulties. According to Father Guido Sarducci (of old SNL fame), beatification is slanted to favor Italians. "For Italians," he said, "they count card tricks."

British research (those Brits think of everything) has found that cows increase milk production if exposed to a little Shakespeare. After a theater troupe performed scenes from The Merry Wives of Windsor while rehearsing in a barn before a seemingly non-caring dairy herd, the herd's milk production increased 4 percent. (True) When several of the performers expressed disgruntlement at the lackluster audience who responded with nary a moo, let alone a standing 'O', the director angrily demanded they shape up or get out. "What," said the actor playing Falstaff, "and leave show biz?"


In America, we have the right to sue anyone for anything. Conversely, we have the right to remain silent... but we mostly don't...so the admittedly drunk lady who fell through the window of a hair salon in a sidewalk fight with her husband, is suing the hair salon. She contends the salon should have used safety glass because that sidewalk is "frequently traveled by intoxicated pedestrians." Good point since an Australian city has already installed rubberized sidewalks just in case an inebriated pedestrian falls. (True.)


Elsewhere in England, a 92-year-old great-grandmother was refused service in a liquor store because she couldn't produce a photo I.D. Serves her right, the little minx.

Should we be outraged or what?

This just in from CBS News: The House of Representatives will be in session for only 109 weekdays in 2012! Yes... 109 days-- not quite 22 weeks. Compare that to a 40-hour per week job (if you have one) where you would work 250 days--not counting two weeks vacation.

So what will our elected officials who watch over us, make all the rules, champion the people and fair play, gather pork for his/her constituents, show those republicans/democrats a thing or two, earn to work so hard? Well... basically, they receive:

• $174,000 per year in salary alone--for the rank and file members--with adjusted cost of living benefits every year. Many make more than that, of course
• The ability to set their own salaries--and they have been zealous in fulfilling their duties in that regard... although they have the right to not accept any increase ; -)
• Nice retirement and health benefits--vested after 5-years of service (or, one re-election... whichever comes first)
• A comfortable "per diem" allowance for when they are away from home--like all the time

Now here is the kicker: in 2012, they will be in recess for 151 weekdays so they can campaign back home for re-election. In the real world, that would be the equivalent of 30 weeks of paid vacation... IF YOU HAD A JOB! And we are actually PAYING THEM a decent salary to do this instead of watching after the things that need doing on the job... unless, of course, they already have them done and were just hanging around chewing the fat until it was time to clock out.

No wonder it is so difficult to unseat an incumbent, no matter how hard they work for us. They get paid, by us, to spend more than half of an election year to tell us how great they are... or better yet, to warn us about their unscrupulous, immoral, lying, no good scumbag opponent.

Speaking of that, I dearly love those negative, kick-your-opponent in the ass ads because, how would we know how bad they are?

Isn't the American public smarter that that? Answer: NO!

So, consider this post a 'rant." I truly detest "the endless campaign," from one election to the next, at the expense--and subterfuge--of helping and building America by doing what is best for Americans more than doing what is best for themselves.

I know our friends, The Canadians (see map... look north) limit their political campaigns by limiting spending. According to Wikipedia, the longest Canadian political campaign was 76 days... and that was in 1926. Well, maybe that is a bad example. How can we respect a neighbor that has a coin called 'a loonie?' We certainly wouldn't call our dollar coin by such a silly name... oh, pardon me. We have no dollar coin... except for those billions we have been making and storing for years because Americans are too smart to use a dollar coin--"Makes the pockets too heavy." We do, however, mint the penny, worth one cent, at a cost of about 1.7 cents per coin, because we can't live without them.

My next proposal... consider a .0099 coin so we can pay exact change for one gallon of gasoline.

Obviously, we are too smart to fall for all this.