Smart vs. Dumb

In 1946 Dick Tracy wore a wrist radio ... and it only took 67 years for the real world to catch up! Samsung, Sony and reportedly Apple and everyone else will be marketing smart watches, or as Apple might say, iWrists. (Teaser alert: But that wasn't the very first smart watch. I'll tell you the story of the very first smart watch at the end of this post.)

Sure, Tracy could communicate just by talking to his wrist. "Calling squad 8. T.V. Wiggles headed for unloading shaft at Steel St. and the River. SHOOT TO KILL!" (Actual fake wrist-to-Chief alert by Dick himself.)

Now, we can do that too... and lots, lots more. With our new devices, we can check email ("What is email?" asks Tracy), talk, text, take pictures, search the web and (gasp!) tell time. No more will be have to look at our phones 20 times an hour... we can just count down, minute by minute and everyone will think we are just punctually challenged.

Most consumers say the first introduction of the smart wrist watch does not actually tell time... it just counts down to the introduction of Apple's iWatch.

Smart in a one-on-one with the Chief

Actually, the first Smart phone really was invented in 1986 by Maxwell Smart... get it...  Maxwell SMART?  (Never mind.) He had a cleverly designed phone that actually looked like a size 12 shoe that would also fire bullets when he dialed 117. Smart also had The Cone of Silence in several forms that eliminated eavesdropping and many other clever devices to stifle crime. 

We have Google Glasses so that means that if we have an iWatch (or whatever), we could actually see ourselves checking our email while checking our email while checking our email... very Escher-esq. Meanwhile, we are so cool, no one would notice.

While we get smarter and smarter 'stuff,' why is it we seem to get dumber and dumber? I know... the robots made us do it.

Now, as promised, the real story of the very first smart watch:  

A guy rushing for his train in Grand Central Station in NYC is running late. He stops a stoop-shouldered, bedraggled little man huffing and puffing as he struggles to carry two enormous suitcases.

"Hey friend," asks our commuter, "can you tell me what time it is?"

The man stops, grateful to be able to put his monstrously heavy suitcases on the floor and rest. As he wipes sweat from his brow, he looks as his watch and tells the harried commuter, "It is exactly 5:17.26 1/2 pm on the 365,276th day, 4th hour, 38th minute and 52 1/2 second past the birth of Christ, a Thursday in leap year 0, when the sun warmed the day to 82 degrees fahrenheit or 27.777778 celcius."

"Wow!" said the commuter who was literally stopped in his tracks. "Your watch told you all of that?"

"Oh," says the watch owner, "my watch will tell you anything you would ever want to know. Is Elvis alive? Is O.J. Simpson the real killer? When will the Cubs win the pennant? Anything, really.

 "WOW! I've GOT to have one! Where can I buy a watch like that?"

"You can't," says the little man. "You see, I invented this watch and it knows EVERYTHING... but it is one of a kind and it is mine."

"But I'll give you anything for that watch," says the commuter.  "ANYTHING! I must have that watch."

After 5 minutes of intense haggling, the commuter convinces the watch inventor--with the help of $2 million dollars--to sell him the watch. Happily, he straps it on his wrist, says "Thank you so much," and starts to run in hopes of catching his train.

"Wait... WAIT," hollers the watchmaker, pointing to the enormous suitcases sitting on the floor, "Don't you want the batteries?"

Announcing the First Annual JOKEFEST: The Brits vs The Colonists

The ten best jokes in this year's Fringe Festival in Scotland have just been announced. The headline in the British newspaper read "... these are the best jokes, bar none." Oh yeah? The jokes are so lame that I am challenging them to see which side of the pond has the funniest jokes. You be the judge.

Number 10

Theirs: The good thing about lending someone your time machine is that you basically get it back immediately. (As Groucho Marx used to say: "Time flies like an arrow, fruit flies like a banana.)
Ours: I was in Rome recently and wanted to say "Hi" to the Pope, so I looked up his number in the phone book. It was et cum spirtu-tuo. (OK, so maybe you have to be Catholic, but it was funny in third grade... and beats the pants off their joke.)  Score: 1-0 USA

Number 9

Theirs: I was adopted at birth and have never met my mum. That makes it very difficult to enjoy any lap dance.
Ours: What songs do cows like to dance to? Any kind of mooosic will do. (A simple kid joke wins again!)  2-0 USA

Number 8

Theirs: The Universe implodes. No matter.
Ours: Chuck Norris counted to infinity--twice! (Cha-ching!) 3-0 USA

Number 7

Theirs: You know you are fat when you hug a child and it gets lost. (No!)
Ours: What does a snail say when he is riding on a turtle's back? Weeeee!! (Another kid joke is all it takes.) 4-0 USA

Number 6

Theirs: The Pope is a lot like Dr. Who. He never dies, just keeps being replaced by white men.
Ours: The Vatican announced it will begin selling its ceremonial incense mixtures that were previously only used in worship services.  The first scent will be Popepourri. (Now that's funny!)
5-0 USA

Number 5

Theirs: I can give you the cause of anaphylactic (sic) shock in a nutshell.
Ours: What happened when the monster ate the electric company? He was in shock for a month. (Kid jokes are better.)  6-0 USA

Number 4

Theirs: My friend told me he was going to a fancy dress party as an Italian island. I said to him "Don't be Sicily." (Their best attempt yet. Awkward but cute.)
Ours: Q: Did you hear about the Italian chef that died? A: He pasta way. (We really would have won but I'm giving them this one for sentimental reasons... I'm Italian.)  6-1 USA

Number 3

Theirs: I'm in a same sex marriage... the sex is always the same.
Ours: Take my wife... please! (Ta dah!)  7-1 USA

Number 2

Theirs: I used to work in a shoe-recycling shop. It was sole-destroying.
Ours: Man finds a shoe repair claim ticket in an old suit he hadn't worn for 12 years. Thinking he would play a joke on the shoe repairman, he presented his ticket with a straight face. The repairman, showing no emotion, checked in the back room then hollered, "They'll be ready Thursday."  8-1 USA

And the Number 1 British winner

Theirs: I heard a rumour (Britspeak) that Cadbury is bringing out an oriental chocolate bar. Could be a Chinese Wispa. (Really? Is that the best you've got?)
Ours: The doctor sadly tells the patient, "Sorry but you have only one month to live." The patient, crestfallen, grabs the doctor by his lab coat lapels and desperately asks "Isn't there something... anything I can do?!" The doctor pauses, then says, "Well... you could take two mud baths a day... " Hopeful, the distraught patient says, "Oh, thank you doctor... will this cure me?" Doctor shakes his head, "No... but it will get you used to the dirt." (Always save the best for last, right?)

Final score: USA 9, Great Britain 1
The elegant solid gold Knee-Slapper Trophy goes to America for the first year in a row!




Now don't you all go rioting like this is a football (really soccer) game... just be graceful and give us a "Jolly good, old chap" ... and send more episodes of Downton Abbey.

This one's for me.

August 24th--would have been my mom's 100th birthday.   She died 18 months ago at 98.

Now here's why she was so special: 

In the car and, unable to find her seatbelt clip, she would hold the belt against her thigh and say, "This is fine. Let's go." I would look at her and she at me, then we would both laugh.

She would complete a crossword puzzle and leave it on the table to get me a cup of coffee when I dropped in one or two mornings a week. "Nice going on the crossword mom," I'd tell her. Then I'd look at the puzzle and see that some squares were just filled with random letters. "Mom," I'd say, "that's not right." She would tell me, " I didn't say it was right. I just said it was done."

Lots of years ago, after I left the house as a youngster, she and dad tore my room down to make their master bedroom somewhat bigger. They put the old knotty pine boards that made my wall, into the garage. My dad died 48 years ago and those boards remained in the middle of the garage floor.  One day many years back, a guy driving passed the house spotted them through the open garage door. He stopped and asked if he could buy them. "Congratulations!" I told her. " It's about time you got rid of those boards." "Oh," she said, "I didn't sell them" "Why not!" "He offered me $50 right away so I figured they must be worth a lot more." After she moved to an assisted living facility, I thought of that story as I threw those old, rotting boards Into the dumpster cleaning out her overcrowded garage  that never saw a car.

Once when I visited, I saw a camera on the kitchen table that was her desk... her hangout. "Where did this come from?" I asked. "Someone left it at McDonalds last week." "Why didn't you leave it with the manager?" "Are you kidding," she said, "It would have disappeared In a minute." I looked at her and said "Well?"

She tried to return it but no one had reported a lost camera so she ran an ad in the paper. When that didn't work, she developed the film (remember film?) so sure that a photo or two  would offer a clue... and we laughed at out-of-focus pictures of cows and pigs taken from a moving car. I threw that camera out years later too.

Her house was always 'pig-sty' neat with burnt-orange living room drapes that just turned 50 (really) because she liked them. A grey Electrolux vacuum cleaner-- its classic art deco style, shaped like a coast-to-coast Santa Fe Zephyr of the 1950s with sleds runners instead of wheels--was a permanent fixture in her living room... and it actually made an indelible indentation in the " older than the drapes" carpet. Its hose was as auspicious as a dead snake coming out of the sweeper's behind. Whenever one of us kids put the darned thing in the closet (when she wasn't looking), it would always reappear next time we visited... in exactly the same spot... and the carpet never looked cleaner.

Her classic dining room table--with all extensions to seat 12 comfortably... was invisible under its pile of old magazines and papers, tools, sewing paraphernalia, old 78 rpm vinyl records and everything else you could imagine.

Her favorite chair, broken down and threadbare, was her throne, like an island among a sea of week-old newspapers and clippings. Her 17 inch 20-year old TV sat alone on a stand in front of her throne.

She took up golfing and working and benevolent volunteering after my father died and she was always reliable, always slow and always appreciated.

She was like that... not a hoarder at all, but what she treasured, she kept. She was a little ditzy and clean and joyful... not someone you would call a neat-nik, but so very liked by all. She would talk to anyone who looked her way and she had a place for everyone in her head. Remarkably, she remembered most of the names of people she met, even in her last years. She had a big heart and was deeply religious. That paints a picture of a wonderfully-charactered widow the last 48 years of her life.

Her favorite poem, which she would recite at the drop of a hat was Trees by Joyce Kilmer:

I THINK that I shall never see   
A poem lovely as a tree.   
 
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest   
Against the sweet earth's flowing breast;   
 
A tree that looks at God all day,           
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;   
 
A tree that may in summer wear   
A nest of robins in her hair;   
 
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;   
Who intimately lives with rain.     
 
Poems are made by fools like me,   
But only God can make a tree.   

Whenever something bad happened to her--like shingles, broken bones, broken heart--she would shrug her shoulders and say, "Into each life a little rain must fall."

She was seldom angry and bragged about how full her live had been. "I've traveled the world (she had been to Europe--once on a tour, Hawaii and California) and had two wonderful children who love me. What more could I want?"

My sis and I ask the same question... What more could we want?

She was a nice lady who died peacefully in my sister's arms. Happy "almost made it a century" Birthday mom.

The Yin and Yang of it all

Tess, our golden retriever, Abby our yellow lab

Tess and Abby, our two beautiful living yin-yang interpreters of the traditional ancient Taoist symbol (called the taigi) of life and existence.

Yin-yan, in Eastern thought, are two complementary forces that make up all aspects and phenomena of life. Yin is a symbol of earth, femaleness, darkness, passivity, and absorption. It is present in even numbers, in valleys and streams, and is represented by the tiger, the colour orange. Let Tess be ying.

Yang is conceived of as heaven, maleness, light, activity, and penetration. It is present in odd numbers, in mountains, and is represented by the dragon, the color azure. That would be Abby.

The two are both said to proceed from the Great Ultimate (taiji), their interplay on one another (as one increases the other decreases) being a description of the actual process of the universe and all that is in it. In harmony, the two are depicted as the light and dark halves of a circle.


The black and white halves of the Yin-Yang symbol are similar to the two sides of a coin. They are different, and distinct, yet one could not exist without the other. It is what the two sides have in common - what makes them "the same."


This idea is illustrated in Shih-tou's poem:

The Identity Of Relative And Absolute

Within light there is darkness,
but do not try to understand that darkness.
Within darkness there is light,
but do not look for that light.
Light and darkness are a pair,
like the foot before and the foot behind in walking.
Each thing has its own intrinsic value
and is related to everything else in function and position.
Ordinary life fits the absolute as a box and its lid.
The absolute works together with the relative,
like two arrows meeting in mid-air.

Well, I hope we have all learned something today... and this all started when I noticed how our dogs sometimes sleep.

About Tess and Abby... Tess has just turned 7 and Abby, half-past 6. They are both therapy dogs bringing comfort, ease and calming to victims of floods, fires, shootings and other disasters, natural and otherwise. They regularly go to hospitals, nursing homes and hospice houses and, like all the superheros, try to be where they are needed. They are the greatest.

Dope testing ices fisherpeople... and other improbable scenarios

No, they are not testing to see if they can find ice fishers who ARE dopes, they are testing to see if they are on dope. Also no, beer does not count.

Actually, it's not fair to imply ice fishers are dopes. some are, of course... presumably, most aren't. Though I have never ice fished, there is some implied merit in cooling one's heels every once in a while.

All this is because ice fishing is trying to become an official Winter Olympic event--really. Makes sense though. After all that money goes into building a majestic rink for figure skating, there must be other uses for the venue to justify its cost. Though how good the fishing is under the rink ice is still up for speculation.

And ice fishing is not the only fringe sport that has gone to drug testing. Competitors in darts, miniature golf, chess and tug of war were all recently tested. And before you laugh, two miniature golfers (no, not dwarfs or little people) recently tested positive according to the World Anti-Doping Agency. And so did two bowlers, eight roller sporters and one tug-of-war puller.

Rumor has it that one miniature golfer became suspect after a few of his 'drives' on the competition put-put course went loop-the-loop, through the windmill, into the clown's mouth and well over 300 yards.

Personally, I can hardly wait to see the heated competition on the next Wide World of Sports. Where
is Jim McKay when we need him most? Oh, dead.

Speaking of sports, did you know that in 37 states, the highest paid public employee is a sports coach? Take that, college professors. Have we got our priorities right or what?

My wife, bless her heart, was in an auto accident a short while back. While she was exiting a parking lot, someone pulling out of a parking stall and backed into her rear door. When that lady and my wife met out of the collided cars, the lady shrugged her shoulders and said to my wife, "I don't know how they are going to call this one."

Well, police figured it out real fast, of course... but that's not the point of this story.

The damage was minor (by comparison)--just $2,300 worth. No hair was mussed on either head, no back injury or stiff neck, and neither car was going above 5 miles per hour. The other insurance company was absolutely great in facilitating repair as painlessly as possible, bless them. The point is, within the next two weeks, we received seven letters from local attorneys--most on very heavy, fancy stationery, saying mostly the same thing:

We understand that you have been involved in an accident. Your decisions over the next few days may be critical to your recovery. Since 1982 we have helped answer thousands of questions for thousands of clients just like you... We can help by offering a free consultation where we can explain the law and how it affects your case. We can also help you find the right doctor, help you with insurance questions, help answer questions concerning your car... We won't promise we'll take your case, but we certainly can answer questions and help ut you at ease. And it's FREE (caps theirs) advice. There's no down payment. We only get paid if you do... CALL NOW! A NEW LAW MAY AFFECT YOUR CASE! (again, caps theirs.)

 There is a term for this type of solicitation... Ambulance chasing, I think they call it.  Well, it's a living, I suppose.

Sadly two deaths to report:

Chuck Foley, co-creator of the popular party game, Twister--originally called Pretzel, died at age 82.

Like that, just a few years back, this obit: With all the sadness and trauma going on in the world at the moment, it is worth reflecting on the death of Larry LaPrise, the man who wrote "The Hokey Pokey." He died peacefully at age 93. The most traumatic part for his family was getting him into the coffin. They put his left leg in. And then the trouble started.





 

Hypothetical questions...

You know... like "How much wood can a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?" Or better yet, "How many angels can dance on the head of a pin?"

The obvious answer to the angels question: it doesn't matter... if angels are smart enough to dance on the head of a pin instead of the other end, that's good enough for me.

Best hypothetical question yet: "Who would win a fight between MacGyver and Chuck Norris? (Obviously, Chuck Norris because: There used to be a street named Chuck Norris but they had to change it since nobody crosses Chuck Norris... or, Chuck Norris has a grizzly bear rug in his den. The bear isn't dead, it is just afraid to move... or, Chuck Norris has been dead 20 years. Death just hasn't had the courage to tell him... or, Chuck Norris counted to infinity--twice!)

But sometimes... like I'm about to tell you, questions that sound hypothetical aren't at all. I'm currently listening to Bill Bryson's *A Short History of Nearly Everything (which I bought at Seattle's Half-Price Books, incidentally... for two bucks!) and it really is amazing. I previously bought this as a book--twice... and couldn't get through it as a read--too many names and too much data-- but as a listener in short or long drive snippets in the car, it really is a highly recommended way to go for this one. (Bet you can't find it like I did for $2 though.)

Example of a hypothetical question that isn't: How many atoms can hide behind a single human hair?  Factual answer: A half-million atoms, lined width-wise 'shoulder-to-shoulder,' could easily hide behind a human hair.

How about this one: If Mt. St. Helens erupted (as it did in1980) and the side of the caldera blew out, how much mud and ash would it release down the mountain in the first few minutes?  The now known answer: enough, rushing downward at 150 miles per hour, to bury all of Manhattan to a depth of 400 feet!

Or: Where is the biggest known volcano in the world now located? We didn't know this one until about 20 years ago. Hint: Completely within its caldera is 200,000 acre Yellowstone National Park. More awsome than that... it remains today an active volcano! Oh, don't worry... it has only erupted three known times in the past 180 centuries... usually on 60,000 year intervals. The first eruption was 240 times bigger than Mt. St. Helens and it would have spewed enough mud, ash and lava to cover New York state to a depth of 600 feet. The last one occured... oh, oh... 60,000 years ago.

Actually, Bryson's book covers all of the sciences so it includes piddling little stuff like... the universe as we know it, with its billions of solar systems like our Milky Way, is 13.5 million light years across and it is growing rapidly as we breathe. Now contrast that info with the size of 500,000 atoms 'shoulder-to-shoulder ' and you have a scale of impressive proportions.

The book covers so much of the physical world's sciences and discoveries... with so many names and relationships... that it could blow your mind if you are of a mind to be blown. Caution, however... it is not for dummies... like the guy who was stuck in a low end job in the Swiss Patent Office and was turned down several times in his request for a one-step up promotion until "... he mastered machine technology." That hapless individual was named Albert Einstein who played a most impressive role in a good chunk of what Bryson talks about.

It is a good listen and you will come away with lots of very interesting cocktail talk tidbits to impress your friends and family until they get sick of you... like: Chuck Norris heard Einstein's Theory of Relativity and ruled it irrelevant.

Seattle---part II: You have to love the street sculpture

Waiting for the Interurban

Seattle's outdoor  sculpture is rich with humor and meaning. This, a cast aluminum piece by artist Richard Beyer dates to 1979 and is most often gayly decorated by the people.

This Calder is in Seattle's Olympic Sculpture Park, a nine acre public space with permanent and visiting exhibits and incredible views of the Olympic Mountains and Puget Sound. It is in close proximity to Pike Place Market and admission is free.

Seattle's Olympic Sculpture Park

The park contains beautiful, creative, humorous, interesting works of art from Mark Dion, Claes Oldenburg and Coosje van Bruggen, Richard Serra, Roxy Paine, Anthony Caro, Louise Nevelson, Mark di Suvero, Beverly Pepper, Alexander Calder (above), Roy McMakin, Teresita Fernandez, Louise Bourgeois and Tony Smith and is ever growing and changing. (Hint to reader: Pretend you know all these sculptors and just nod.)



One of my favorites:

Typewriter Eraser by Claes Oldenburg and Coosje van Bruggen

This one is often called Troll Under the Bridge by Steve Badanes and others. It is an 18-foot mixed media piece sculpted in 1990 and sits under the north end of the Aurora Bridge. That is a real Volkswagen Beetle under its left hand and a real tourist under its right.

The Troll

Lenin

Perhaps the most interesting of the sculptures is this statue of Lenin. This bronze sculpture of Bolshevik Russian Communist revolutionary Vladimir Lenin stands 16 feet high in the Fremont neighborhood. It has a good story as told on Wikipedia.

It was constructed by a Slovak Bulgarian sculptor under commission from the Soviet and Czechoslovak governments. While following the bounds of his commission, the sculptor intended to portray Lenin as a bringer of revolution, in contrast to the traditional portrayals of Lenin as a philosopher and educator. His Lenin marches ahead fiercely, surrounded by torrid flames and symbols of war.

The work was completed and installed in Poprad, Czechoslovakia (now Slovakia), in 1988, shortly before the fall of Czechoslovak communism during the 1989 Velvet Revolution. The Poprad Lenin was not toppled in the demonstrations during the fall of communism. Instead, it was quietly removed from Lenin's Square several months after the Velvet Revolution.

Lewis E. Carpenter, a Washington resident who was teaching English in Poprad at the time, found the monumental statue lying in a scrapyard ready to be sold for the price of the bronze. In close collaboration with a local journalist, Carpenter approached the city officials saying that despite its current unpopularity, the sculpture was still a work of art worth preserving. He offered to buy it for $13,000. After many bureaucratic hurdles, he finally signed a contract with the mayor on March 16, 1993. With the help of the original sculptor, the statue was professionally cut into three pieces and shipped to the United States at a total cost of $41,000. Carpenter financed much of that by mortgaging his home.

On February 18, 1994 amidst the uproar in Seattle that was set off by the statue of a communist leader, Carpenter was killed in a car accident. The statue, now part of his estate, was left lying in his backyard. The family contacted a local brass foundry which offered to move it off the property. It now stands at the intersection of Evanston Ave N, N 36th St, and Fremont Place. This is just 3 blocks west of the Fremont Troll, another art installation under the Aurora bridge.

Fremont was considered a quirky artistic community, and like other statues in the neighborhood (such as Waiting for the Interurban, above), the Lenin statue is often the victim of various artistic projects, endorsed or not. A glowing red star and sometimes Christmas lights have been added to the statue for Christmas since 2004. For the 2004 Solstice Parade, the statue was made to look like John Lennon. During Gay Pride Week, the statue is dressed in drag. Other appropriations of the statue have included painting it as a clown, and clothing it in a custom-fitted red dress by the Seattle Hash House Harriers for their annual Red Dress Run.

It is a commanding, impressive work of art... and there are many more everywhere in the city. Public art is big in Seattle.

Scroll down to the previous post for more on Seattle, my favorite city.

Favorite city: SEATTLE, and why not?

Looks like a birdhouse... or a mailbox, but it isn't. It's a book exchange box and there are many of them in neighborhoods all over Seattle.

This is just one resident's way to share good reads. There are about 15 books in this box adjacent to the sidewalk, inviting anyone to "Take a book/Leave a book."

There are a lot of things I really like about Seattle. This reputedly gray, rainy city sells more sunglasses per capita than any other major U.S. city. It also has the largest percentage of library card holders in the nation (80%) and residents spend double the national average on books every year.

Seattle Public Library

Seattle has the neatest public library (with 26 branches) all tied together by a very handy computer system that makes checking out books and returning them easier than going to the post office. It's library system is the busiest in the nation with a circulation of 24.2 million books, films, magazines, papers, etc. And it's head librarian is the only librarian in the world, perhaps, that has her
own bobble-head doll.

Librarian bobble head doll

 

Seattle is home to some pretty impressive second read book stores with good selections at Goodwill and Value Village too. These stores--some as large as your friendly Walmart--are vigorously shopped by all.

This city recycles EVERYTHING from lawn debris to food leftovers. There are regular garbage and recycle pick-ups and if you are not in recycling compliance (they spot check), you are warned twice... then fined! No plastic bags in stores either.

Seattle has a well run and much used public transportation system with environmentally pure buses that run on schedule. Commuters can check live on-time performance of their bus on line. And all buses have well-used bike racks--Seattle has more people who commute to work on bicycles than any other U.S. city. And it also has an impressive 24-hour ferry system--the largest in the U.S and its #1 tourist attraction.

Got dogs? Lots do in Seattle and they are welcome in more places. Excercise? Seems like almost everyone walks/runs/bikes/hikes/climbs/rows/etc. Lots of people on the streets. Want coffee? Are you kidding me? Seattle, the home of Starbucks, has more places to get a cappuccino or latte than anywhere else. The music culture is here as is the Experience Music Project--the EMP Museum.

Seattle has neighborhoods... really neat neighborhoods, many of which are eclectic in the mix of

houses, ages and styles. And trees of all kinds. It has the largest houseboat population east of the Orient.

Seattle tops the list of America's most educated city--more than half of its 675,000 residents hold a college degree. And it boasts the highest per capita ballet attendance too. Its Columbia City zip code is the most diverse in the nation boasting 59 different languages spoken.

Everything is green and abundant lush landscaping crowds the sidewalks in some areas. Seattle has a wonderful year-round climate for trees, shrubs, plants, grass, etc. Average December/January  temperature is 47/38. July/August averages 76/57. Believe it or not, Chicago, Dallas and Miami get more rain per year than Seattle. Much of the precipitation in Seattle is mist. I was standing outside talking to someone and without realizing it, the ground beneath me was dry but everything else was damp. It could rain all day in Seattle and measure only .10 of an inch while Miami could get a 7 inch dousing in an hour. Go figure.

Seattle has the Pike Place Market, Space Needle, a new waterfront 175 ft high Ferris wheel, an abundance of museums and other great tourist stuff. On a clear day you can see Mt. Rainier, the Cascade and the Olympic mountain ranges and always beautiful water. Seattle residents seem to have a certain elan you don't see elsewhere. Would Bill Gates live there if it wasn't great?

One outstanding Seattle fact: The Seattle Mariners baseball team won 116 games in 2001... tying the Chicago Cubs 1906 team for most wins in a season... and the Cubs did it in fewer games. Hey! Us Cub fans need something to grab on to.

But my favorite reason for loving Seattle is that my daughter lives there.

Are you laughing with me... or at me?

Actually, it makes no difference. According to a recent study, being funny makes men more attractive. How am I doing so far?

OK, so you need more.

A rich American-Jewish widow is determined to rise in society. She hires coaches to help her shed her Yiddish accent and coarse ways. Once she feels ready, she registers at a restricted resort, enters the dining room perfectly coifed, wearing a basic black dress with a single string of pearls, and orders a dry martini--which the waiter accidentally spills on her lap.

The woman cries: "Oy vey! ... whatever that means!"

Or, as Jack Handey said in his book Deep Thoughts, "The crow seemed to be calling his name, thought Caw."

He also said:

If you were a pirate, you know what would be the one thing that would really make you mad? Treasure chests with no handles. How the hell are you supposed to carry it?!

Better not take a dog on the space shuttle, because if he sticks his head out when you're coming home his face might burn up.

Don't ever get your speedometer confused with your clock, like I did once, because the faster you go the later you think you are.

Still not seeing Dr. McDreamy or Brad Pitt after all this? OK, I'll give it one more shot... 

Sorry ladies, I'm happily married.


PS: Thank you, Jack Handey, for being so funny... and to Ruth Wisse who just released her book, No Joke, for the joke.

WOW... I just saved $1,7820,200 million this month... but I don't feel that much richer

 
Well, call me a tycoon or not, but in the blink of an eye, I saved $17.4 million. Yep, my bid to buy Three Studies of Isabel Rawsthorne, a triptych by artist Francis Bacon at auction by Sotheby's was just a little late. This semi-splendid piece went to some other sharp eyed art patron for that price.

In retrospect, I'm glad. It's a little too "mauvey" for my taste... and if my eyes don't deceive me, I think the artist's brush slipped a few times and he colored outside the lines.

Actually, fine art is in the eye of the beholder, so I guess, I beholden my money this time. Whew! That was a close one.

I also saved $420,000 by not buying Bolt, Europe's fastest pigeon, named after Usain Bolt, the world's fastest man. Racing pigeons do, it seems, bring big bucks. When the seller was notified how much Bolt sold for, he said "I am absolutely gobsmacked."

And if that isn't enough, my wife went clothes shopping this week and, as she brought her packages in from the car, she told me that she had saved $200. I am even more gobsmacked to think that in a week where my total saving was $17,820,200, I still can't find an extra $20 to reload my Starbucks card.

Us rich have it tough.

On another very different matter, congratulations to Texas on its 500th execution. The 'ittsy-bittsy'
downside (not counting the condemned)--now it has to buy more of those big, foam "We're No. 1" fingers.

By the way, only Texas and California record all the last words any of their executed speak. They range from "I'm sorry" to "I'm innocent" with a few "Go Cowboys" thrown in... really.

Sorry... I don't mean to sound coarse of flippant but I just feel execution is a barbaric way to say "Gotcha!" It is much more costly--appeals and all--than any life sentence. It is unfairly and unevenly administered and does send some innocent to their deaths. And as much as we sometimes feel it is emotionally justified in horrendous incidents, it makes no one a better human being.

The Human Perspective

If the world is represented by 100 people, then...

• 50 would be male, 50 female
• 26 would be children, 74 adults of which 8 are 65 or older
• 23 would have no roof over their heads
• 13 would have no safe drinking water
• 15 would be undernourished, 1 would be starving and 23 would be overweight
• 78 would not have access to a computer, 7 would have a college degree
• 17 would be unable to read or write
• 33 would be Christians, 22 Muslims, 14 Hindus, 7 Buddhists, 12 other, 12 no religion
• 60 would live in Asia, 15 in Africa, 14 in The Americas and 11 in Europe
• 70 would be non white of which 21 would be Chinese and 17 Indians
• 32 would breathe polluted air
• 22 would have no electricity
• 16 would have no toilets, 19 would have only the crudest of facilities
• 48 would live on $2 (US) or less per day, 1 of 2 children would live in poverty 
• 48 wouldn't be able to freely speak or act according to their faith or conscience due to harassment, imprisonment, torture or death

So, in the real world of 7 billion people:

If you have food in your refrigerator, clothes to wear, a roof over your head and a place to sleep, you are richer than 75% of the world.

If you have money in the bank, in your wallet and some spare change, you are among the top 8% of the world's wealthy.

If you woke up this morning with more health than illness, you are more blessed than the million people who will not survive this week.

If you have never experiened the danger of battle, the agony of inprisonment or torture or the horrible pangs of starvation, you are luckier than 500 million people alive and suffering.

If you can read this, you are more fortunate than 1 billion people in the world who cannot read at all.

100% of the people share one planet--no exceptions!

Kinda makes you think, doesn't it? That "Do unto others... " thing takes on little more meaning in real life.

Caveat: These are aggregated statistics from several sources and are accurate to estimate order of magnitude.

A Letter to My Mom

Blessing no. 16... and counting

The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round... and they still do.

Dear Mom... it doesn't seem so long ago that your first great-grandchild Kate, now 16, was born and you bought her this yellow, plastic toy bus with a lid for a top that lifted off. The bus held a dozen plastic figures of little men and women. Those red, green, yellow, white and blue people were made to snap together holding hands. Some of the figures have been lost over the years but that has never diminished the joy this toy brought... with your love for each of those great-grandchildren.

It's been over a year since you left us... you almost made it to age 99. Nice job mom! You did well in so many ways... not the least of which was picking the best toy ever.

This gem of a bus, with men and women figures representing happy, working people that actually held hands to make a better world, has delighted and entertained every one of your infant grandchildren... and is now ready for great-grandchild number 17 this fall!

So mom, on behalf of Kate and Joe and Claire and Jaci and Luke and Riley and Rio and Jacob and Taylor and Sol and Devin and Rafa and Audrey and Tyler and Harrison and Samantha... and Mr. November to come, thank you so much for this simple yellow bus filled with your love. You were special!

Just thought you'd like to know. Your loving son, Jerry

Mawidg is a dweam wiffin a dweam.

Carrie & Michael

“Mawidge is a dweam wiffin a dweam. The dweam of wuv wapped wiffin the gweater dweam of everwasting west. Eternity is our fwiend, wemember that, and wuv wiw fowwow you fowever.”

Princess Bride is a classic love story--even if this minister has the wrong couple at the altar. This real one is even sweeter.

I had the joy to watch a beautiful niece and her handsome perfect match wed a week-end ago in 'Cabo' (the way us cool married people say it). It seems as if they were always meant to find each other. Even better, they are terrific people... the kind you want to know.

The beach wedding, with the Sea of Cortez in the background, couldn't have been more ideal. It was simple, touching and beautiful. The surfers didn't seem to mind and the reception on the lawn--with a full Harvest Moon in the sky--was just like in the movies. It leaves a wonderful memory in your heart.

The bride's mom is smiling down.

Lest we forget, this is what it is all about:

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, a woman, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

Carrie and Michael... blessed happiness forever.

A True Story with a Moral

la cuckaracha

I'm no Aesop (because he is dead and I'm not) but I love interesting tales with a moral.

When I was about four or five years old, my favorite aunt would babysit my sister and me every once in a while. We loved her to death because she was always so much fun... and spoiled us the way kids love to be spoiled. Aunt Anna Banana as we lovingly called her, had a 78 r.p.m. record (yes, that long ago) with a delightful Spanish song, La Cuckaracha, that always triggered a little dance around the room by all of us. It goes something like this:

La cuckaracha, la cuckaracha
Ya no puede caminar...

Now I learn the English translation:

The cockroach, the cockroach
Now he can't go traveling...

According to Yahoo, "you're thinking: Mexicans are strange. But there's more going on here than meets the eye. "La Cucaracha" is the Spanish equivalent of "Yankee Doodle"--a traditional satirical tune periodically fitted out with new lyrics to meet the needs of the moment. The origins of the song are obscure, but apparently it's pretty old. Some verses... refer to the Moorish wars in Spain, which concluded with the conquest of the Moorish kingdom of Granada by Ferdinand and Isabella in 1492. (Obviously 1492 was a big year for Ferdinand and Isabella on a number of fronts.) Probably the song itself doesn't go back that far, but in an 1818 book, according to one source, the Mexican writer Jose Joaquin Fernandez de Lizardi claimed the song was brought to Mexico from Spain by a captain of marines."

So I wondered why such an ugly, reviled bug, the cockroach, would trigger such inspiration. Well, first, it is a great tune... lively and "dance triggering." And like Yankee Doodle, it's fun to sing.

Well, the lowly, yuckky cockroach has a few very admirable traits.

• Most cockroaches are not pests... of the more that 4,000 species all over the earth, only about 40 are considered pests... like in your kitchen.
• The little buggers will eat just about anything and can survive for 6 weeks or more without food... and for weeks without their heads
• They are tough... they have survived for 350 million years (not counting this past week), through ice ages, floods and meteors, and could be the last remaining survivors if everything else (including us) on earth was wiped out.
• They like to be touched, even though they haven't quite got that "sex appeal" for everyone. That's why they make good pets. So if you have no room for a dog, this could be your answer.
• Cockroaches are FAST! They can jump-start in just 8.2 milliseconds after sensing a puff of air, can sprint at 80 centimeters per second on six legs and turn on a dime while in full stride.
• They can be BIG... some 4 inches long with wingspans of 7 inches, though not in my kitchen, thank goodness.
• And, perhaps most astonishing, they can be conditioned... like Pavlov's dogs! They actually drool when their antennae sense something savory.

Maybe then, that's why this new discovery shouldn't be so amazing. Cockroaches--which are drawn to sugar for its nutritious glucose--have learned that sugar is used to draw them to poison bait. So they, through evolutionary conditioning, have learned to avoid the very sweetness that is now associated with poison. And that has the cockroach poison makers looking hard for a suitable substitute.

So what's the big deal? I don't know... just thought this was pretty fascinating. I guess I was conditioned to like cockroach lore by Aunt Anna Banana way back when.

THE MORAL: If humans could be smarter than the cockroach, maybe we could learn to like sugar just a little less. Couldn't hurt. Cockroaches have an enviable survival record. That part about living without our heads though... that has to go.

Remember IBM'S Watson, the best darn computer who ever won on Jeopardy?

What ever happened to him/her/it? Is Watson (called he for ease of writing) perhaps just a dejected, down-on-his-luck blue bucket of bolts (or whatever those things are) who has already had his 15 minutes of fame... perhaps now homeless and broke, a helpless oilaholic who holds a sign on the freeway ramp that says "Will compute for data."

Well, not exactly. Watson, with his incredible memory bank and quick-as-a-wink buzzer response, has held a job in the medical field these past few years helping clinicians diagnose ailments... and then, finding financial products for bankers to recommend. He sounds like my Uncle Gus who flitted from job to job too.

Emma Watson

You should know that Watson comes from a good family. His mother board, if I have this straight, is the famous and attractive Emma Watson of Harry Potter fame. That's where he gets his good looks.

And, as age is no barrier in computerdom and all pairings are merged across the internet, his father board is the brilliant Dr. Watson who, many say, is the brains behind Sherlock Holmes. Watson always pushed Holmes to the front because taller men always make a better first impression.

Dr. Watson

With programing like this, you would know that IBM's Watson would find his true calling and be brilliant. He has and he is.  Watson is now a top notch customer service person... you know, like the one who answers when you, angry or frustrated, call 800-what's your beef.  He answers in a voice that sounds like it may come from India (to instill confidence). Watson actually has many dialects and can tell a mean Irish joke as if it was Paddy O'Malley himself... "Two Irishmen and a horse go into a bar, you see..." Indian jokes are not funny.

IBM Watson is patient, understanding and knowledgeable, He knows all the necessary things to fulfill any consumer need. He has but one teensy-weensy flaw... Because he was made for Jeopardy, you must first give Watson the answer and he will respond in the form of a question.

So you call that 800 number and say: "Hello. I first remove the outer shell, being careful to unplug my toaster before I start. Then I unscrew heating element A and check the fuse. If the fuse is broken, I go to my hardware store and buy 1 (one) AA3, toaster-type replaceable fuse, install it in slot c and reassemble. If, when I try my toaster, it blows the circuit that powers my father's iron lung, I will then turn on the auxiliary power source before the iron lung shuts down, then re-install the fuse correctly, switch the power on again, put the toaster back together and I'm set for many more years of satisfying toast."

Watson's first child

And Watson smartly says: How do I fix my x*&%# stupid Burnalot Toaster if it won't make toast?"

So you see, problem solved. Or, as C-3PO would say: "We're doomed."


PS: True story... about Watson, that is.
Just a few boring details left out. And that 
India thing... everyone knows Indian jokes are real killers.

Attention Walmart Shoppers....

... you have made it the number 1 retailer in the world!  Walmart revenues topped $420 billion dollars in 2011... considerably more than number 2.

Almost everyone shops at Walmart at one time or another... and, as candid photos on the web have shown, Walmart shoppers can be... er, different.

Not everyone loves Walmart though. Some say it doesn't sell enough Made in the USA goods... some say it squeezes suppliers for the lowest prices... some say it drives nearby retailers out of business, etc. But most of us shop there once in a while or more because we are a capitalist society... and supply, demand and cost dictates who succeeds and, sometimes, who doesn't.

Walmart succeeds because it continues to serve our needs and desires... and recently, it has pledged to do even more.

In a Walmart flyer in Sunday newspapers recently, the World's largest retailer promised that, "Over the next 10 years, Walmart will spend $50 billion more buying products that are manufactured in the U.S." And while I don't have the numbers to put that into perspective, I do sense it has some significance to it, especially given that currently, most items sold in Walmart stores are not from the U.S.

But the statement on the flyer that made an even bigger impact: "Starting Memorial Day (this year), Walmart will offer a job to any Veteran who has been honorably discharged within the past 12 months. (This, with an asterisk that stated "Veterans must be within 12-months of active duty and meet our standard hiring criteria.)

Whether you are a Walmart shopper or not, no matter how you dress when you shop, this is a tip of the hat to a retail giant that has the power and position to be so bold as to try to do better in a remarkable way.

Many Walmart associates wear blue work vests that have imprinted on the back, "How may I help you?" These are two great ways. Thank you.

When I win the lottery...

... and odds are, I WILL... I know exactly what I am going to do with my spare change. I'm buying a little place here:

The arrow points to where my new home in the city will be... on one of the upper floors of the 84-story  cute, under construction residential building--the tallest in the Western Hemisphere--on Park Avenue at 56th Street in Manhattan... unless, of course, some current lottery winner, or someone else with a few extra dollars, beats me to the punch.

Yeah, I know. I just barely missed "the big one" this past week. I suppose I would have had a better chance had I bought a ticket. Details, details... who has the time? Lotteries though, are like buses... another will be along in a minute.

Remember though, I said WHEN I win... so it is just a matter of time. My current "to do" list reads:

1. Buy ticket
2. Win lottery
3. Get friends with pick-up trucks to help move in

... and as the Guide to Successful People says, putting it on the list is the surest way to make it happen.

As for affordability, not to worry. An 8,255 square foot penthouse apartment (about the size of two nice bowling alleys, I would think) with 6 bedrooms, 7 full bathrooms and 2 half-baths is only $95 million. And common charges for weeding, mowing the lawn, etc. are only $17,805 a month. There is one extravagance I will allow myself... a wine cellar for my Mogen David and Billy Beer to be chilled at the perfect temperature, for just $378,000... but so vital for an oenophile's palate such as le mien (excuse my French, as they say).

I sure feel sorry for those foolish lottery winners who have no plan, because a buck here, a buck there and it is gone before they know it.

As for winning, it's as easy as 1-2-3. Look, who can't understand a 10-1 chance of winning. Got that? OK, so then go to 100-1... still with me? Then 1,000-1, then 1,000,000-1. So now, see how realistic 175,000,000-1 sounds? Not bad if you look at it that way, right? And it just gets simpler... there are only about 200 million different number combinations.

Psst: Look around. Are you alone? I am going to give you my sure fire secret-- and please, PLEASE, don't tell anyone else: Google "How to win Powerball lotto" and that covert website offers secret formulas. Why no one else has thought of that just amazes me... but, thinking it through, I am a college graduate. Just don't do it the same month I do, promise?

See you in New York, lucky.