Random Thoughts

Why do pill manufacturers still make round pills? 

I take a combination of prescription and non-prescription medicines that adds up to seventeen pills per day.  When I sort out morning, afternoon and evening doses from my pill container, it is inevitable that there will be at least one pill that bounces on the table and then rolls off onto the floor.  And that pill will always be the little round one that is hardest to spot and usually seeks its refuge under a piece of furniture, stove or refrigerator.

Since our federal government is so fond of making rules and regulations, why can't they mandate that all pills be made in some ovoid shape, or like one of my really expensive ones, in a whirligig shape?  Those pills never make it to the floor but bounce once and stay put.

Who ever thought up the expression, "come to"?

When you wake up every morning your brain changes from a state of unconsciousness to  some form of alertness, so what is different about that same transition when someone or something knocks you out and you wake up from it?  If you "wake up" from sleep, why then do you "come to" from induced sleep?  And just what is it that you "come to" to?

What earns the high-calorie/high-fat food we buy the term "fast food"?

There is nothing fast about waiting in a line at Mickey-D's or Wendy's (or substitute your own favorite) for five minutes to order your "fast food."  And even without the line it sometimes takes that long to get your order.  Or try ordering your fast food and getting some sandwich, pizza or burrito that was assembled two hours ago and sat waiting for someone to order it.

If you want really fast food, eat a piece of fruit or a ready-to-eat vegetable, and you'll get way less calories and fat while improving your nutrition.  Let's label our current fast food for what it really is - FAT FOOD - and give the real fast food its due credit.

Where did the 'd' in the word fridge come from?

Fridge is an abbreviation for refrigerator, which has no letter 'd' in it.  So why isn't the abbreviation spelled f-r-i-g-e?

When was that never-changing 86-14 poll taken?

Every time I see something in my email Inbox with reference to "under God" being kept in the Pledge of Allegiance, no matter who sponsors it, a poll is cited that 86-percent of Americans want it kept in, and 14-percent want it taken out.  If we're really in such poor straits with God, why don't those percentages ever change?  86-percent is pretty high, by the way, so there's not much chance that "under god" will ever be taken out.

What is That Word - Addendum

In June I wrote a column about two words, misconception and misperception.  As often happens, I received more responses to that column than to many others that I considered more important and better written.  In fact, the responses inspired me to write a follow-up column to reveal the responses because they were so clever.

First, I received a short email that only contained four words in response to the column:

"Maybe it's a misinterpretation."  I like that one for its brevity and wit.

Next I got a link to another blog that covered the exact same two words, only this one was written over two years before mine.  I swear on a stack of Bibles that I never saw that other column until that day.  Here is what that email response concluded:

Cogitate on this-----perhaps this link relevant to today's lesson in lexicography will shed some light.

A misconception can be the logical conclusion to a mis-perception (not a word in my mind). Or--a missed way of 'conceiving (mental process) can be the result of and incorrect perception (something originating with the senses).

However, a mis-perception may or may not follow a misconception.  One may be
correct in their assumption, but then again, they may not be correct. 

Now that one was a little deeper, and I think you would like to click on the link to read how similar those two columns were.

Finally, one of my readers sent this response to my column:

A misconception can also result from a birth control device or poor timing or whatever.   Perhaps our AHC debacle is a misconception.   
Misperception....    well, perhaps I simply don't understand AHC.   Or is it like the blind men and the elephant??

This last one got politics into the mix, but the last question is relevant, because it introduced me to that Indian parable, one I had never read or heard before. In case you have also never read it, here it is:

Once upon a time, there lived six blind men in a village. One day the villagers told them, "Hey, there is an elephant in the village today."
They had no idea what an elephant is. They decided, "Even though we would not be able to see it, let us go and feel it anyway." All of them went where the elephant was. Everyone of them touched the elephant.

"Hey, the elephant is a pillar," said the first man who touched his leg.
"Oh, no! it is like a rope," said the second man who touched the tail.
"Oh, no! it is like a thick branch of a tree," said the third man who touched the trunk of the elephant.
"It is like a big hand fan" said the fourth man who touched the ear of the elephant.
"It is like a huge wall," said the fifth man who touched the belly of the elephant.
"It is like a solid pipe," Said the sixth man who touched the tusk of the elephant.
They began to argue about the elephant and everyone of them insisted that he was right. It looked like they were getting agitated. A wise man was passing by and he saw this. He stopped and asked them, "What is the matter?" They said, "We cannot agree to what the elephant is like." Each one of them told what he thought the elephant was like. The wise man calmly explained to them, "All of you are right. The reason every one of you is telling it differently because each one of you touched the different part of the elephant. So, actually the elephant has all those features what you all said."
"Oh!" everyone said. There was no more fight. They felt happy that they were all right.

The moral of the story is that there may be some truth to what someone says. Sometimes we can see that truth and sometimes not because they may have different perspective which we may not agree to. So, rather than arguing like the blind men, we should say, "Maybe you have your reasons." This way we don’t get into arguments.
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What more can I add?  We all perceive things differently, but just because we cannot agree on everything , it doesn't mean that anyone's perception is more correct than any other person's.  So misconception and misperception are both wrongly used. Both the conception and the perception are relative terms, and neither can truly be "missed."

Cleaning the Crevices

A friend and email buddy wrote recently about her experience and revelation in a local park where she lives.  It was one of those "Aha!" moments, so she sent me an email with the suggestion that maybe I could use it in a poem or a column.

Here is what sparked her mental and spiritual processes, told in her own words, on which I cannot improve:

Yesterday I was at a local park with a pond which attracts ducks/geese.  

While walking around I noticed there w(ere) “duck droppings”  Yikes!  

I don’t want to track any to my car so I tried stepping around it.  

When I went to the gazebo to sit down I saw a plastic knife, like

someone knew I would need it to clean my shoes.  My friend Dianne,

came up and sat down.  We discussed the duck mess.  I told her I

used the knife to clean the crevices of my sole “soul."

That last word just popped into her head as she spoke the homonym, and it occurred to her that there was an analogy in the expression.  That is, sometimes it is necessary to "clean the crevices of your soul" of the nasty detritus that can build up over time in much the same fashion as you would clean the soles of your shoes. 

Cleaning the crevices of your soul isn't quite the same, however.  You cannot use a physical object like a knife to scrape out the filth.  Instead, you must use a metaphysical object, such as meditation, or prayer, or confession.  You must reach inside yourself and cleanse the impurities. 

It is possible for some people to perform the self-cleansing through rituals of concentration, but for most of us there is a need for outside help; that is where prayer comes into play.  Whether or not you believe strongly in a higher power or supreme being, there is always that hope that someone or something is overseeing and guiding us, and that there is forgiveness when we do wrong.

I believe that Catholics have a unique means for "cleaning the crevices of their souls" - the Confessional, where the priest acts as intermediary between the supplicant and God. 

I never studied religion, so I don't know whether or not any other religion has that means of  cleansing, or forgiveness of sins.  We Protestants sometimes joke that Catholics have it easy; they can sin all week and then get absolution on Saturday by going to Confession.

I make no secret of the fact that I am not a devout believer, and I certainly don't practice any form of organized religion. Yet I am convinced that we all have a (hole? crevice?) in our soul where sin resides that begs forgiveness and redemption.  And none of us is so perfect that we cannot use a good cleaning of the crevices from time to time.  A good cleaning might prevent it from becoming a crevasse, too.

Now, as to that poem...    

 

Road Trip Surprises

My wife and I recently took a road trip with our son and grand children.  We traveled from Brad’s home in Maryland up to our childhood homes near Buffalo, New York and, of course we visited the big tourist attraction there, Niagara Falls.  Also on the agenda was a visit to a creek bed that contains fossilized remains of sea creatures that lived in the area approximately 380 million years ago.  Then, on the way back to Maryland we stayed in central Pennsylvania and visited a reptile zoo and a back-country amusement park.

Of the four attractions, which do you suppose the kids enjoyed most?  The falls?  The amusement park?  No, they were most enticed by the digging up of the fossils at the Penn Dixie Site.  We spent several hours in the blazing sun with hammers and picks and buckets.  We found some very nice specimens, too.

But then, each of the four sites had its own charm and delights.  One of the surprises for the adults was that the prices were reasonable at all of them.  Anytime you can take three adults and two children to a full day’s attraction for less than $100, that is a great day. 

Two of our stops were truly notable.  The first, Clyde Peeling’s Reptiland in Allenwood, Pennsylvania, appears at first to be one of those “tourist traps” that spring up along the highways from time to time.  However, nothing could be farther from the truth.  It had many good live specimens including a Komodo dragon, and a neat section of automated dinosaurs that looked and sounded lifelike.  We also got to watch the feeding of some of the live reptiles, a fascinating learning experience.

The second surprise was the best of all – an amusement park, Knoebels, that has no admission charge!  We didn’t even have to pay for parking.  All of the rides were reasonably priced from $1 to $3, and there was a large variety of them for kids of all ages – three coasters, two flumes complete with splash pool and bridge for spraying onlookers, and even a neat 14-minute-mile-long skylift, (like a chair lift for skiers, but with no upper station).  We stayed for six hours and spent less than $75 on rides and only around $30 for food and treats.  The variety of food choice was international and prices were very reasonable.

Our best activity at Niagara was the Cave of the Winds on the American side.  It really isn’t a “cave” at all, but rather a series of wooden stairs and platforms that has to be rebuilt every year.  Access is by elevator and tunnel on Goat Island between the falls, and egress is under the small middle falls called Bridal Veil Falls. Special sandals and ponchos are provided and you must expect to get soaked, especially if you climb to the Hurricane Deck right at the base of the waterfall.

I didn’t write a trip journal for this one, but if you care to see some of the pictures, let me know by email and I’ll send some for you to view.

Time Flies

 Let this serve as a warning to those of you who are going along complacently, believing this dance lasts forever.  You think you’re in the prime of life and suddenly, you look in the mirror one day and you don’t see yourself; you see your father or, if you are a female, your mother in there.  And then, without much more passage of years, that face turns into the grandparent that you maybe lost when you were just a kid.

Oh, there are some warning signals, like those aching joints and the need for a little nap just to “catch up on that sleep you lost last night.”  Sometimes you anticipate what used to be your favorite activity, and suddenly, it doesn’t seem so great anymore.  Sadly, some of your best friends and relatives move away, or worse, die, and leave you to mourn their passing.

It doesn’t always happen the way I described.  For instance, I think I first noticed that I had morphed into my father when I moved to Texas in 2003 and had to get my drivers license reissued.  The picture of that guy on the new one just couldn’t be me.  He had too many wrinkles and a prominent cord down each side of the throat that looked like a bulging artery.  That person was at least 10- or 20-years older than I was. 

Then, one day when I was shaving, I looked in the mirror and there was my long dead father staring back at me.  I thought that it probably was to be expected, though I never realized the close resemblance when I was younger. I decided that I’d have to accept the inevitable, that I really had reached that age where I couldn’t refer to myself as “middle aged” anymore.

And finally, a couple of years ago I saw a person looking back at me from that mirror that I no longer recognized at all.  He was, to use the well-worn term, “older than dirt.”  I don’t know what my grandfather looked like, since he died before I was born, and the pictures from those days were those sepia tone, antique ones that made everybody look pretty much the same anyway.  But I suspect that he probably looked like I do now.

Those years do have a way of sneaking up on you and there isn’t any gradual change.  It just happens one day and there’s no turning back.  (Well, plastic surgeons make their living off convincing you that there is, but that’s another column)

In conclusion, and kind of as a footnote, have you ever noticed that those pictures that accompany the obituaries of elderly people don’t seem to match the age given at passing?

It’s probably a good idea to choose a photo/portrait you had taken when you were in your middle to late 40s that can serve as your obit picture when you go in your late 70s or early 80s.  Go out with your good side showing.

Now, in case you took this seriously, and you think maybe I’m getting senile, here is a little treat for you that will likely only be recalled by those over 50, as will the pair that sings the song, “I’m My Own Grandpa.”

Mature Security

I'd like to propose a new fashion statement for men. It is a very simple one and doesn't detract from your appearance if you perform it properly.  My suggestion is that men wear their shirts in the casual style without tucking them into their pants.  Most polo shirts and golf shirts are made with the bottom cut and stitched to accommodate that style, but many of the Oxford-style shirts are also made for the "untucked look." 

Oh, I know it won't work for all men, and the ones I intend to target are a select group.  The present day boys and young men who already have their fashion statement, the hip-hop group with their pants pulled down to expose their boxer shorts, need not join.  Shoot, in fact, they are exactly the ones whom my new trend is aimed against.

You might have noticed that I used three inflammatory words, target, shoot and aimed, in the prior paragraph, and there is a reason for that.  My new fashion statement is going to figure prominently in curbing a lot of the violence that comes from those low-slung-jeans-wearing hipsters.  While it isn't a dead giveaway, it seems to me that those same guys are also the ones with the firepower in the form of illegal guns somewhere on their person. 

Now, it isn't a hard-and-fast, proven fact, but a lot of those gun-toting people are less likely to draw that weapon and start shooting if they even suspect that their intended victim is "carrying" too.  The person who has a concealed-carry license is probably going to have their pistol in a pancake holster at the small of their back.  And guess how they are going to conceal it. 

Okay, I'm not advocating that we all go out and purchase a pistol and apply for the conceal-carry license, but if we men were to suddenly all start sporting the "untucked look" it would give the would-be perpetrator second thoughts, wouldn't it?

Of course, there are several cities - New York, Washington, Chicago, and New Orleans. for instance - that have gun restrictions or outright bans, and they just happen to be the most dangerous ones in America.  Hmm, I wonder why that is?  I don't see that as a reason not to wear the shirt outside your belt in those cities.  It still gives the thugs pause, and the police cannot stop and search everyone they think might be packing, especially if there are hundreds or thousands of shirt-tails visible.

Ladies, I don't want to leave you out.  You too can join the crowd.  Those who do carry a concealed weapon for protection usually have it in their purse, and that is probably the worst place for it.  After all, purse snatchers are everywhere in the world, and you don't want that thief to get your gun along with your cash and credit/debit cards.  You can join the men in the "untucked look" fashion statement if you like. 

Do you think we can start a trend?  Let me know.

Leaving the House

Whenever Judy and I leave our house, which we do almost daily for shopping or other errands, there is one thing we always do without fail.  We unplug the coffee maker.

We've lived in this town home for over five years, and we have never unplugged any other appliance upon exiting, so it must be ingrained in both of us that coffee makers are dangerous when left unattended.  Oh, we can both go about our daily routines, me in my home office/computer room and she in her sun room at the back of the house.  I know that neither one of us ever gives a second's thought to that dangerous appliance sitting out there in the kitchen plotting our demise.  But, let us even consider going out for a ride, and the last thing we do before leaving is unplug the coffee maker.

I ask you, is this paranoid behavior?  Do we really have OCD about that coffee maker?  After all, we've never unplugged the stove or the refrigerator when we go away, and they would seem to have a greater potential for destruction.  And even if the coffee maker did some day go berserk and start a fire, if we're not in the house, we won't be injured.

Okay, I know we're being silly, but about thirty years or so ago, one of those ancient Mr Coffee™ machines started a kitchen fire in someone's house in the city where we were then living, and we never got that incident out of our minds.  It stuck like glue, and we've made it our life's goal to never let that happen in our house.

Now, either you're laughing about the crazy custom we practice, or you're thinking that maybe we need to see an analyst about our problem.  Even I think it's goofy to unplug that machine just because we're leaving the house, yet we still do it every single time.

Oh, by the way, we've never had one of our coffee makers explode or start a fire, and they do make excellent coffee.  In fact, I cannot recall hearing or reading any news report about anyone else's coffee maker causing a fire in decades.  I guess old habits are really hard to break.

Have a nice day and enjoy your coffee.