YOU SWEET TALKER!

Blog number 179 31 May 2008

Today I went to the counter at Starbucks to get a coffee for me and one for Teresa. When I delivered Teresa's coffee to her, a woman she was talking to said to me, "You look a lot younger from the back."
**************

The above reminds me of a time when a friend from work brought his wife over for a visit. It was the first time we had met her, and when she first came into our apartment she asked, "How much did you have to pay for this dump?"

Hah! I just absolutely love people like that.

WERE THE TUDORS TUTORS?

Blog number   178                                                              30 May 2008

One of the very best jobs I ever had was tutoring Math at a high school in Sacramento.  Elk Grove, actually, but same thing.  I have known for some time that I cannot teach and I don't like teaching, but I am an excellent tutor, and I love tutoring. I like explaining things. I like to be asked questions.  From my egocentric view, it seems that that should be a universal trait, but it isn't.  Some people hate to be asked about something they know.  That is so alien to me.  I don't understand it.

This morning I called the Phoenix library because I left a book there that belonged in the Casa Grande library.  Lemme digress here a moment.  I just thought of something.

I had a friend in the Air Force that once came out to our house  and he asked me where all our books were.  I asked him what he meant and he said I was always talking about something I was reading and so he figgured I must have a lot of books.  I told him I got my books from the library.  News to him, I guess.

He once told me that he never read books because they didn't have any pictures.  I just looked at him nonplussed and he said, "Really.  I need pictures or I can't read."

Okay.  Back to business.  When I told the librarian what I wanted, she told me to wait a minute and a short time later she came back and said, "We have your book."  I thought there was a good chance I had lost it because I thought it would be thrown away since it wasn't their book, or at least placed on the shelf where people could buy books for a dollar.

I asked her how she had found it so quick and she said it happens a lot, so if their computer kicks out a book, they put it in a special box and wait for somebody to ask for it.  Now comes the raison d'etat for this blog entry.

When I found this out - about how the library works mis-returned books, I immediately wanted to tell Teresa.  But I have been working on a discipline where I don't tell some things so that I will have a few secrets.  So far I haven't been able to do this.  The tell - no tell thing worked so hard on my psyche that it brought up an epiphany.  The reason I can't keep a secret is this old bugaboo about tutoring.  I want to explain!  It's who I am.

This may not sound like much to you, but from inside here, it's a big thing. 

THOSE WERE THE DAYS MY FRIEND, WE THOUGHT THEY'D NEVER END

Blog number   177                                                              28 May 2008

The neighbor lady came over last night and told me that it looked like I had a flat tire.  Yep, I did.  I have had flats before - lots of them, but they exhibited a low tire.  THIS one exhibited a FLAT one. Squashed.  Methinks someone flattened it on purpose as opposed to somebody flattening it by accident.

The lovely Teresa thinks the neighbor lady did it so's she could speak to moi.  I have my doubts, and several years ago I would have definitely denied that ANYONE would ever do such a thing for that purpose.  But I have had life experiences that tells me that anyone can do the most outrageous thing for the most outlandish reason.  I didn't used to think that way.  I thought everyone was reasonable, but my experience with a mailman who misdirected my retirement check because he was jealous that I was retired and he had to work told me that there is no limit to the idiocy of humans.

Be that as it may, I have in my possession, an electric pressure pump.  So I pumped the tire up and so far - two hours later it still holds correct pressure.  Fixed?  Apparently.  But this got me to thinking about gas stations where you could always go to get your tires aired.  Not too many of those around anymore, and even if you find one, you probably will need your own tire pressure gauge.

When I was a teenager, whenever you pulled into a gas station, you would run across a rubber hose which rang a loud bell, signaling the attendant that he had a customer.

"Gimme a dollar's worth of regular."

"Check the oil and tires?"  This was said while the gas was being put in, which was followed immediately by a washing of the windshield.  Sometimes the windshield would be washed while the attendant asked, "Gas?"

Anytime you wanted to know what time it was, any gas station in the country had a big clock easily seen from outside.  You could walk into any clean, clean, rest room, whether you were a customer or not.  It didn't matter.  These people were SERVICE station attendants.

I miss the "Flying Red Horse" - Mobile gas, I think.  A full-sized red horse galloping on top of a twenty foot pole.

Sheesh!

WELL, IT'S MY BLOG

Blog number   176                                                              27 May 2008

This entry is mostly for a particular person commenting on my entries. I don't feel I explained or can explain my viewpoint clearly in the comment section. For instance, this that I am writing now will be written, edited, and corrected.  The comment section is simply written.

The thing about crude oil being a product of dead plants and animals is not that it is a myth, it is that I believe it is a myth.  It may not be.  It may be true.  I don't think it is.

If it is true that crude oil comes from plants and animals, then there are myriad other difficult questions that come up automatically.  But to say that crude oil is a liquid mineral hydrocarbon brings up no other questions than saying, "that is sandstone" does.  Occum's Razor.

There ARE myths disguised as truths that are absolute, not merely believed, but unfortunately they are so ingrained in our culture's consciousness as truths that though easily seen, they are very often dismissed as - usually, "playing with words."  One usually thinks, "That just cannot be!"

I could start out by saying that the whole physical world is contained completely within your skull.  This you could dismiss easily, and quite rightly. 

But if I point out that light waves enter your eye, transform into electrochemical signals, and eventually the brain reacts in such a way so that YOU see, that sight is a product of the brain and NOT the eye, this is something most of us have been taught in school.  We can accept that.

But if I point out that what we hear, feel, taste, smell, also is "felt" first ONLY in the brain and THEN we hear, feel, taste, and smell, this you may have a little more trouble with.  But maybe not.

But then if I go on to say that since all of our sensing of the physical world is sensed ONLY in the brain and therefore the whole physical universe is contained ONLY in our brain, THAT you will refuse.  Even though it follows logically.  No es verdad?

Once this is comprehended, accepted, that the whole physical world is contained solely within our skulls, then a whole world of what used to seem like truths to us becomes clearly, myths.  Things that used to seem of the utmost importance - like politics, archeology, history, or art, become playthings for adult children. Fun, but of no importance.  Myths, and nothing else.

I am not saying that everything is an illusion.  I am saying that everything physical is an illusion - not real.  What is "out there" may not be out there at all.  There is no way to tell.

All the available evidence seems to suggest that there IS no "out there" out there.  It's all a myth, is what seems to be suggested.

There ARE real "things," but they are not physical.  For instance, thoughts are real, but they aren't physical.

ONE COINCIDENCE AND ONE "AHA!"

Blog number   175                                                              27 May 2008

A coupla days ago I blogged about "myths disguised as truths."  Today I'm in Barnes and Nobles reading a book entitled, "Human Smoke" - a series of articles of what various people have said about world events that were never reported World-Wide and therefore myths were perpetuated to stand in place of these unwelcome truths.

That's a coincidence.

I once read Albert Speer's (Albert Speer was Hitler's architect during and before, WW2) book in which Mr. Speer told of Hitler's firm belief that England, through Winston Churchill, would make peace with Germany and join them in the war against Russia and the Jews.

I couldn't understand what would make Hitler think this.  He seemed a genius in his reading of the minds of his friends and enemies.  How could he be so badly mistaken here regarding Winston Churchill?

Today, reading in this book, "Human Smoke," I found articles and papers written about and by Winston Churchill of his personal hatred toward both Jews and Russia, actually - in my view, rivaling Hitler's rants about these same people.

AHA!

MYSTERIES ARE FUN AND FRUSTRATING. MOSTLY FRUSTRATING

Blog number   174                                                              24 May 2008

We - Teresa and I, were watching the movie, "There Will Be Blood" this afternoon and in the movie, the characters are bailing crude oil from a pool of it with buckets and then pouring the buckets of oil into a pit.  The oil was black, heavy, dirty, filthy.  Looking at it, I was convinced once again how highly unlikely it is that this selfsame oil came from dead dinosaurs or any other kind of animal, like the experts proclaim. At least I think they proclaim.  Somebody did.  It was in my textbooks in school.

It is difficult for me to believe that scientists - who are supposedly known for their intellect, could ever think that oil came from animals.  I really don't know where that idea came from, l only know that it is a pervasive myth in our culture, and maybe in cultures around the world.

I have seen a lot of dead animals and not once did any of them look like they were "turning."  They either got eaten or they dried up.  Those were the only two choices.

Even supposing dead dinosaurs were the "cause" of crude oil.  Even supposing.  Did millions of them happen to die in them same place so that the millions of barrels of oil in an oil field could exist?  And in other parts of the world the dinosaurs died and didn't turn into oil?  Very, very unlikely scenario.

So what's the story? Where did this myth come from and why isn't one of our "experts" demystifying this ubiquitous mystery?  Huh?

I just wanted to get this off my chest.  Maybe some day I'll write about other myths disguised as truths -- like "Your vote counts" or "We see with our eyes" or "The constitution guarantees..."

But don't hold your breath.

Spitting into the wind is tiresome.

CHARACTERS ARE MY FAVORITE PEOPLE

Blog number   173                                                              22 May 2008

I'm reading this nonfiction book about a New England husband and wife team of book collectors.  It's called, Used and Rare by Lawrence and Nancy Goldstone.  Fascinating book.  I have discovered, for instance that the book itself is sometimes an art object - not the writing, but the actual physical book.  Like seascapes painted on the top of the pages so that you could only see it by fanning the pages out like a deck of cards.  Also, the actual physical book itself sometimes has a fascinating story attached to it - how it came to be and why, etc.  Like "A Christmas Carol" written in order for Dickens not to go to debtor's prison.

And not only that, but the sellers of used and rare seem to inordinately be characters.  For instance;

Anyway, Marty (Lawrence's wife Nancy calls her husband "Martin," thus, "Marty.") went in and tried to look at his stock.  But every time Marty wanted to see something, the old man jumped in front of him and yelled, "Don't touch my books!"  Then, when Marty wanted to see something, it was always on the top shelf and the old man would have to laboriously roll his ladder over and hike up to the top.  He'd get up there, open the cover to the book Marty wanted to see and then say something like, "This is a great book.  I think I'll mark it up!"  And then, right in front of Marty's eyes, he would reach into his pocket, pull out an eraser, erase the old price and write in a new, higher one.

And then, if Marty decided he was desperate enough and would buy the book anyway and said, "Okay, I'll take it," the man would yell, "It's not for sale!" and put it back on the shelf.

Later on they got to talking about Shakespeare, and the old man jumped up on the table and started quoting passages.  When he was done, he leaned over, bug-eyed, and yelled, "It's  all in the poems!"

Sweet!

 

TO PROTECT AND SERVE

Blog number    172                                                            21 May 2008

During WW 2, over-estimation of the number of sinkings of American submarines by the Japanese was never denied because "We wanted the Japanese to think their existing methods were highly effective..." 

Then in 1943, Congressman Andrew Jackson May, a member of the House Military Affairs Committee, at a news conference, said that the Japanese didn't know that they were setting their depth charges too high and therefore the American subs could, in complete safety, submerge below 300 feet and just wait until the Japs left.

Vice Admiral Lockwood estimated that May's indiscretion cost the US ten submarines and eight hundred officers and men.

Loose lips sink ships*

*Ubiquitous poster caution during WW 2.

BABY FIX OF THE WEEK

Blog number   171                                                             17 May 2008

Teresa and I were sitting in Barnes and Nobles in the stuffed chairs facing each other, reading.  Out of the corner of my eye I notice a tiny creature walking by - a little girl - about three years old.  When she saw us, her eyes got real big and she stared straight ahead, feet moving extremely fast, edging far away from us,  pretending we didn't exist. Teresa and I saw her at about the same time.  We both burst out laughing and the little girl's mother, following close behind, had a big grin on her face.  So cute!

About a half hour later I saw the child trying to go where she wouldn't have to go by us again, but her mother came by us and called the child.  Once again, big eyes, staring straight ahead, fast feet, edging far away from us.

I'm sure the mother brought her by us again so that we could all enjoy the child's response to strangers.

I KNOW SOMETHING YOU DON'T KNOW. NAYA NAYA

Blog number   170                                                     17 May 2008

Women seem to instinctively know things that men do not.  Teresa bought a tube of "AXE" - a kind of soap, I dunno.  Smells good though.  She bought it for me.  I like it.  There were no directions at all on how to use the product, nor even what it is.  Not even a health warning like "This product is not to be used as a chip dip." 

And there are no directions as to how to take the cap off or how to put it back on.  The cap does not screw on.  I pulled the cap off - which worked, but because the container consists of soft plastic, I necessarily squeezed the bottle while pulling off the cap - in order to hold the bottle, you see.  Putting the cap back on is easy.  It just snaps on.

I got to thinking that I was going to waste a lot of the ingredients because every time I took the cap off, some of it would come out the opening because I was squeezing the bottle, you see.  I decided to ask Teresa for advice, realizing that women instinctively know these things.  She told me you twist the cap off - even though there are no threads.  This method works perfectly, but I wonder how many years it would have taken me to figure that out on my own.  And how did she know? It's not a woman's product.

On my side, Teresa thinks that if you want the air conditioner to cool the room off faster,  all you have to do is to set the thermostat much lower than you want the temperature to be.  The lower you set it, the faster the room cools off.

WHATEVER FLOATS THE BOAT

Blog number 169                                               May 14, 2008

The speed limit in the Arizona countryside is 75 MPH.  When we first got here three and a half years ago all trucks traveling the highways ran at a minimum 75, with most going 90 - sometimes 95.  As should be expected, the nightly TV news reports very often contained scenes of fatal traffic accidents involving trucks. 

Not only were trucks traveling at what I consider a high rate of speed, they often - I would say always, tailgated.  There are not many things more disconcerting than to be traveling at a speedy 75 and look in the rear view mirror and see a huge radiator filling the glass.  At such times, one tends to hold the steering wheel a little more firmly and to turn one's thoughts a little more toward pondering the extent of God's love of one's remaining lifetime.

I have noticed that since the latest series of increasing gas prices, that trucks very seldom speed over 65 MPH, and frequently travel at a comfortable 60 MPH. Traveling at 60 MPH rather than at 75 or 90 MPH increases the miles per gallon efficiency of an engine and thus keeps more money in the pockets of the truck owners.  At the same time I have noticed this decrease in the speed of trucks, I have also noticed a sizable decrease in the reporting of truck-involved fatal accidents. 

Do you suppose that the price of gas has a direct effect on the number of deaths per mile on our highways?  Huh?

THAT' SO ME

Blog number 168                                               May 12, 2008

I don't experience basic human emotions.  It's not my thing.  -  Albert Brooks

THAT' SO TRUE!

Blog number 168                                               May 12, 2008

One thing I found out.  When you're on fire and running down the street, people get out of your way. - Richard Pryor

LETS MAKE ALL THE WORDS MEAN THE SAME THING ALL THE TIME

Blog number 167                                               May 12, 2008

When I was in the fourth grade I wanted to be a "red belt."  A red belt wore a crossing guard belt except that it was red and the job attached was to stop kids from doing forbidden things on the playground - like fighting, playing rough on the teeter totter and so forth.  We never really stopped the miscreants, we would just tell them that if they didn't stop, we would tell a teacher.

I wanted to be a red belt real bad.

I wanted to be a red belt badly.

Pick one.

I went to the teacher who was in charge of the red belts and she told me to be in her room a quarter after eight on Monday.  Goody!  So a few days later it was Monday and I arrived twenty-five minutes after eight.  She told me I was too late.  She said to come back next Monday a quarter after eight.

Next Monday, same thing.  I arrived twenty-five minutes after eight.  This happened three times in a row.

I wish I remembered how I finally learned that a quarter, in time language, was fifteen - not twenty-five.  I think the teacher figured out what was going on and enlightened me, but I'm not sure.  I might be thinking that because it is logical.

Every time that happened to me - that I was late, I was just SO puzzled.  And frustrated.  I was there on time, yet I was late???

NO WONDER I THINK I LIVE IN AN INSANE WORLD

Blog number 166                                               May 10, 2008

So I'm reading the paper this morning and I notice a brouhaha between the Mormon church and the Vatican concerning baptizing dead people.  It seems that the Mormons want their members to check over their ancestors and see if any of them died without being baptized in the Mormon church and therefore not eligible for habitating in heaven with their antecedents.  If they have, the Mormon church will, for a small fee, baptize them.

I actually don't know if they charge a small fee - or any fee, but I like the poetical way it reads.

All religions have their eccentricities so if the Mormons want to baptize dead people, fair dickum.  It's a little more odd that they don't actually baptize the dead themselves, but rather they baptize a proxy.  Now that's weird!  Couldn't they, by the same reasoning, baptize ALL the people in the world by proxy?  Even the unborn?  Maybe just one great proxy baptism that's good forever since the beginning of time?

The Vatican has ordered Roman Catholic dioceses worldwide to withhold member registries from Mormons who perform posthumous baptisms so that they don't inadvertently baptize dead Catholics.

Now, what I don't understand - besides the quarrel over baptizing dead people, is why the Vatican is making a fuss over it.  Doesn't that indicate that the Vatican thinks that the Mormon baptisms are working?  Otherwise, why would they care?  Why would anyone care?  Huh?

WHAT A GAL

Blog number 165                                               May 10, 2008

So we got a $270 parking ticket for parking in a handicap space with no tag showing.  Not to worry, Teresa called and got it all straightened out.  What happened was that I couldn't find my glasses and I thought I left them at Mimi's, so I went back to get them (turns out they were in my bag and I just didn't see them.)  Before I went back to Mimi's, Teresa kept saying to me to hang up the handicap tag, but I was so concerned about my glasses that I forgot to do that - or rather, I expected her to take care of it.

So we get home and she (Teresa) tells our visiting friends about it, saying, "Don forgot to put up the tag and he got us a parking ticket.  My take on it is, why is it my job alone to take care of the tag?  Because I was driving?  SHE thought of ME putting it up - why didn't SHE put it up?  It's not that heavy.

So on the way home, she puts the tag on the dash in front of the steering wheel and says, "Now keep it there.  I told you that before."  She never did.  In the real world, I tried to keep it on the dash in the middle, not right in front of the steering wheel, but she declared the sun would make it brittle and so I was not to keep it there.  And surprise of surprises, in front of the steering wheel IT IS STILL IN THE SUN!

TITLELESS OBSERVATION

Blog number 164                                               May 09, 2008

Muhammad Ali had an unusual job: beating people up.  Government wanted him to change jobs.  Government wanted him to kill people.  He said, "No, that's where I draw the line.  I'll beat 'em up, but I don't wanna kill 'em."  And the government said, "Well, if you won't kill 'em ... we won't let you beat 'em up."

TERESA'S BON MOT

Blog number 163                                               May 06, 2008

Teresa's comment about a driver she was passing; "He shouldn't be speeding."