Major Minor

The phrase "minor heart attack" has been in the news a lot recently. I would like to propose that this three-word phrase be banned from the English and News Anchor languages. Instead, I would like to propose a better phrase that truly represents what one experiences, which can never be described as "minor".  I have given great thought towards a more appropriate way to articulate the meaning behind this phrase. Therefore, I would like to propose that we use, very simply, the phrase "heart attack". If you don't accept this proposal, I will give you a minor finger-in-your-eye. Then, let me know what you think.

Will Speeding Drivers Have Their Subway Passes Confiscated?

I heard on the news this morning that Boston subway riders who evade paying the fare will be punished by having their driver's licenses suspended. How in the world will they get around now?

Just Don't Call Him "Shrimp"

Inmate #1:  What are you in for?

Inmate #2:  Stealing shrimp...

Inmate #1:  Haaahahahahaaaaaaa. Really? Can I call you Bubba Gump? 

HEY GUYS, this guy's in for stealing shr-

Inmate #2:  -and first-degree murder.

Inmate #1:  Oh.

Idea provided by: http://www.boston.com/news/odd/articles/2009/03/24/nh_police_net_alleged_shrimp_shoplifter/ 

McNugget Meltdown

I'm glad I turned on the news this evening while driving home, because otherwise I would have missed the breaking news story about the woman who called 911 when McDonald's ran out of chicken nuggets.  

Why is this woman in trouble?  It truly is a crime for McDonald's to have a nugget shortage. What happened to the benefits normally gained from "economies of scale" and "global logistics" when they can't get some over-processed chicken chunks to the customers when the customers most desperately need them?  They should have at least rolled something up in flour, deep-fried it with their famous fries, and served 'em up hot!  Anything they could find, as long as it fell into the very broad 'nugget' category.  But no. Instead they humiliated this woman by denying her right to chicken nuggets on demand. And then they called the cops on her.  Oh wait. I guess she called the cops on herself, didn't she?

I think that the woman did the right thing and the cops are over-reacting to her use of 911. Besides, she probably would have called even if the nuggets were in stock. Have you ever really looked closely at one of those things?

This story reminded me of something that happened to me once.  It's a bit tangential, but in my brain it's still on the same plane of absurdity.  I once worked next to a large supermarket that also had a very popular deli contained within.  Besides having a lot of prepared meals (including chicken nuggets), they were also staffed to make sandwiches to order.  

On one particular day, I ordered a sandwich from the menu.  When asked what condiments I wanted, I said mustard.  The store employee promptly informed me that they were all out of mustard.

From where I was standing, I could (and did) lean backwards far enough to see the supermarket aisles over which signs clearly stated their contents.  Aisle 4 read "Condiments".   I reminded the deli dude that he was in a supermarket, you know, where they sell food.  He told me that they weren't allowed to simply get mustard from Aisle 4. It's not that easy, he said. Huh?

Okay, so I realize that he probably did not have the authority, means, or self-confidence to simply pluck supplies off the shelf.  Even in an emergency like this.  But, I probably could have figured out how to make it happen faster than he could. I was pretty annoyed and made it clear that my sandwich was incomplete thanks to corporate protocol.  

Now I realize that I should have called 911.

No Stupid Small-Talking Week

I saw a story online and was inspired to adapt the text to something that I feel strongly about. The omissions from the original text have been striked out and my additions are in bold.

LOS ANGELES ANYWHERE NEAR TYLER—Pay no attention to that eerie silence in near the nation's most populous county  unpopular person this week; it will simply be the sound of 10 million people not cussing participating in useless small talking.

At least that's the result McKay Hatch Tyler is hoping for once his campaign to clear the air is recognized by the Los Angeles County Board of Supervisors all four people reading this.

On Tuesday, the board Tyler is scheduled to issue a proclamation by Supervisor Michael Antonovich himself making the first week in March No Cussing Week No Stupid Small Talking Week.

That would mean no blue language from the Mojave desert, where it gets hot as $&# in the summer, to the Pacific Ocean, where on a winter's day it can get colder and nastier than %$#! useless small talk between people that don't know what else to say so instead they waste oxygen with useless exchanges like this:

Small Talker #1: How are you?
Small Talker #2: Good. Thanks. How are you?
Small Talker #1: Good. Thanks.
(What is the point of this unless there is more discussion that follows?)

Small Talker #1: How are you?
Small Talker #2: It's Monday. (insert faked laughter)
Small Talker #1: Yeah. (insert more fake laughter)
(Change Monday to Friday, add more enthusiasm, and you have more wasted oxygen but at the other end of the week).

Small Talker #1: Still snowing out there?
Small Talker #2: Nope.
(Change Nope to Yep and add useless chatter about how you can't wait for Spring to come).

Small Talker #1: How are you?
Small Talker #2 (with fake look of seriousness on face): Busy. Really Busy.
Small Talker #1: But busy is good, right?
Small Talker #2: Yes, your right, your right. Busy is good.
(You are both busy talking about nothing).

Small Talker #1: Nice to meet you. How are you?
Small Talker #2 Good, but surprised that you are shaking my hand when I have this horrible skin condition.

Not that 15-year-old Hatch 36-year old Tyler expects complete compliance. When his No Cussing Club No Stupid Small Talking meets at South Pasadena High School in a cluttered storage closet at a local Denny's "Restaurant" on Wednesdays it's not unusual for a nonmember to throw open the door and fire off a torrent of four-letter words. He's also been the target of organized harassment by pro-cussers pro-small-talkers.

And Antonovich's county Tyler's motion carries no penalties.

"But it's a good reminder for all of us, not just young people but everybody, to be respectful to one another and watch the words we use," said the supervisor's spokesman, Tony Bell Mr. Paid to Not Stupid Small Talking.

The county isn't the first entity to try to put the lid on swearing . Hatch's hometown of South Pasadena Denny's declared itself a cuss-free stupid small talk-free zone for a week last March, and two years ago a high school in Canada threatened to suspend repeat cussers stupid small talkers.

Hatch Tyler has lofty goals.

"Next year I want to try to get California to have a cuss-free stupid small talk-free week. And then, who knows, maybe worldwide," said the 10th grader middle aged dude, who believes if people treat each other with more civility they can better work together to solve bigger problems.

He said his campaign began to form about the time he hit seventh grade when he noticed his friends beginning to swear wasting their childhoods participating in stupid small talking, something his family didn't allow.

He formed the No Cussing No Stupid Small Talking Club and invited others to join. Soon the group had a Web site, bright orange T-shirts, a hip hop theme song and inquiries from all over from people interested in joining. He estimates 20,000 people have formed similar clubs.

"It's not about forcing anyone to stop, just to bring awareness," he says of the movement. "If you can do a week without cussing stupid small talking, maybe you can do two weeks. And then maybe a month."

The Yuppie Gangsta Lean

I am one of the many Americans most likely to be ticketed.  Why?  Because I drive a station wagon.  More specifically, I drive a Subaru Outback which has been deemed one of the most ticketed cars.  In the article, they make the following statement:

"Subarus have a reputation of being yuppie grocery getters, but the Outback manages to prove that stereotype wrong by being one of the top ten most ticketed cars. Apparently, the Outback is the car of choice for people who need to get to Whole Foods in a hurry, and maybe park illegally once they're there."

I take offense to this.  I am not a yuppie grocery getter.  I have the house manager do that.  Just kidding.  This yuppie totally gets groceries.  I will also add that if I were going to Whole Foods, I would be in a hurry because their white pizza from the deli is OMG to die for.  However, I wouldn't park illegally. Why bother when there's plenty of parking to borrow from a fire truck that's never there?

This article made me laugh, because I find it to be quite inaccurate.  Besides the points made above, I can't get ticketed.  I drive fast on the highway, but I'm smart about it and have a clean driving record.  And I don't think that while driving down my suburban town roads, a cop is going to pull over this middle-aged soccer dad.  Perhaps I should stop slumping in the seat doing the gangsta lean out the window, but even this hasn't gotten me into any trouble with anyone except my horrified wife.

I would like to note that on the list of cars least ticketed is a Jaguar XJ.  Again, I dare to prove the survey's inaccuracies.  If I were to be driving any kind of Jaguar down the road, it would be clear to everyone that I had stolen the car and they would be correct.  And as with the Outback, even the gangsta lean is not going to help this yuppie grocery getter.

School Drinking Water Causes Strange Duct Tape Fetish?

School Drinking Water Causes Strange Duct Tape Fetish?

(Selective reading (and photo editing) can result in humor.  At least in my own world.)

Yo Quiero Wedding Bells

The town of Normal, Illinois will now need to change it's name. It may have lived up to it until a couple got married at Taco Hell.

I am very, very happy for the married couple and I'm not here to tease them specifically. They're actually kinda cute. Instead, it prompted me to think about a Taco Hell wedding.

The Dating Years

He likes her 7-Layer Crunchwrap and she likes his Steak Burrito Belgrande. They dream of a Taco-filled life together and share the same dreams, passions, and love for packets of salsa.

The Proposal

On one knee, he asks her to marry him and refill his soda on her way back from the restroom. She says yes(!) and they plunk down a quarter each to celebrate with a ride on the Taco-Go-Round.

The Preparations - The Week Before

A true first in the history of weddings, the groom visits the venue frequently to finalize the details and the menu. He always leaves 99 cents lighter.

The Preparations - The Morning of the Wedding

Breakfast Burritos from the drive-through.

The Best Man and Maid of Honor

They participate when they aren't ringing up customers.  The rings are handed back to the groom with his receipt.

The Flower Girl

Drops Nachos in the aisle.

The Justice of the Peace

Organizes and wins a refried beans eating contest prior to the ceremony. He leaves early.

The Vows (written on the back of a soft taco wrapper)

"I, Extreme Beef and Cheese Quesadilla, take you Grande Soft Taco,

to be my lawfully wedded Chalupa

to have and to eat, 

with salsa or beans,

for 99 cents or less,

in sickness or salmonella,

to love and takeout,

from this day forward,

until Taco Hell files for bankruptcy."

Tossing the Flower Bouquet

A male trucker from Omaha catches it.

Tossing the Garter Belt

With fear of what might come next, the trucker from Omaha tackles an old lady from Normal, Ill. (she's a regular) and comes out victorious again.

The Chicken Dance and Macarena.

Annoying, but both appropriate.

Dinner

The manager opens a second register.

Dessert

Only available at participating locations.

The Honeymoon Suite (in Chihuahua, Mexico of course)

"Honey. Are you okay in there?"

"No."

"Was it the-"

"Volcano Burrito."

"Oh. That was part of their 'Run for the Border' special..."

"Si. Run for the Bathroom."

Happily Ever After

They live in a casa, adorned with a bell, by the highway where they raise their two taquitos (one hijo and one hija) and a talking pet chihuahua.

A Town Named Normal

To be renamed Loco.

Photo credit

If You Are Reading This From My Attic, Please Come Down

On December 29th, a family in Pennsylvania discovered that a man had been living in their attic.  The man climbed up there when he was kicked out by his friends in the adjacent unit, which shared an attic with the unsuspecting family's home.  Instead of leaving, he climbed up into the attic.  When the neighboring family wasn't home, he would climb down and steal clothing and electronics including a computer.  He made a list called "Stanley's Christmas List" on which he listed the items he had stolen.  If his unintentional hosts had a strong wireless signal, he may have even started a blog. 

I would know if someone was living in my attic, right?  And if I noticed things were missing, I would call the cops, right?  OK, let's give them the benefit of the doubt.  Perhaps for years, Grandpa was up there before he passed and they were used to hearing footsteps.  That's the kind of noise that would just become background noise over time, desensitizing the family.  

But on Christmas day, didn't anyone notice that the cookies and milk were actually gone?

"That's strange. I didn't eat the cookies, did you?"

"Nope. Did you?"

"Nope."

"Cool. Merry Christmas. And sorry about your gift. I must have misplaced it."

"We're even."

But, the lawyer said that he was sorry.  And he found himself a pretty good lawyer who said, "He was very peaceful up there and kept to himself." Except when he was stealing things. 

Until a humane people trap is made, I will be setting hundreds of mouse traps in my attic.  I'll be sure to hear a person hopping around with a mousetrap clamped on to their toes.  But if I'm wrong and you see my posts suddenly stop for more than a few days, you'll know that my laptop has suddenly disappeared.

Detroit "Surplus Edition" Hummer

When the economy was strong and "green" technologies were foreign to most of us, SUV manufacturers were making "Limited Edition" vehicles.  These were mainly for consumers like the drivers of Eddie Bauer Limited Edition Ford Explorers, who apparently wanted the label on their car to match the tag on their shirt.  After looking at their catalog each year, it's still unclear as to why you would want to burn so much fossil fuel to take yourself to a creek side cabin in such nice clothes while standing next to a canoe whose label matched your shirt and SUV.  

In light of the recent economic downturn and focus on hybrid or electric vehicles, I now wonder how the SUV makers will unload their large inventory.  I am thinking about placing my order for a Detroit "Surplus Edition" Hummer with bonus fuel tank.  This abundant model features Big Three Bailout-proof leather seats, voice-activated heated mirrors ("Creditors In Mirror Are Closer Than They Appear"), and 3 additional cup holders (now occupying space where spare change once was, bringing the total to 26 cup holders). Oh, and how could I forget the heated roof rack for my Eddie Bauer Canoe?

L Forever in Eternity

WBZ in Boston was reporting on the recent death of Bettie Page a 1950s centerfold. The newscaster finished the segment about her life's accomplishments (the ones she did with clothes on) by saying "She even had her own website." May she and her URL rest in peace.

When I finally leave this earth and WBZ is reporting on my achievements as an acclaimed humor writer, I hope they finish with a similar statement: "He even had his own blog." In fact, please put it on my headstone.

Tyler James

Beloved husband, father, son, brother, colleague, acquaintance, neighbor, 

and 

jerk that wrote silly things about me sometimes.

He will always be in our hearts and constantly on our mind.

He even had his own blog.

May he LOL forever in eternity. Well, not really OL but L.

Collection

To The Management of the Natick Collection:

Please accept this letter of apology. During your advertising campaign last summer, I unjustifiably ridiculed your decision to rename the Natick Mall. After your first plan to name the mall simply "Natick", you chose an even more laughable title with "The Natick Collection." According to a local news brief, use of the word Collection to attract upscale stores, sophisticated shoppers, and oblivious tourists is popular in getaway destinations such as Bellevue, WA and Troy, MI.  With this, I considered my research on absurdity to be complete.

I scoffed at your suggestion that this name would be more appropriate for the upscale stores. A collection? It sounds like something that might collect dust, no?  Besides, it's the Natick Mall. It will always be the Natick Mall.  You may have built a new fancy wing with a glass ceiling providing sunlight for your new fancy shoppers, but the "old section" (as it is now called) is still windowless and so 1990s.  Feuds between eternal enemies, mall rats and mall walkers, may flare up as they struggle to claim new turf (albeit marble instead of linoleum) in the new expansion wing.  That is, if they dare venture into the sunlight.  

However, I must give you the benefit of the doubt.  If I were filthy rich thanks to oblivious tourists and image-conscious shoppers, I might actually buy or create enough malls to call it a Collection too.  This leads me to wonder if I would get together with my mall-collector friends and trade?  

Hey, let's flip malls!   We'll each toss a mall towards the wall and he or she whose mall lands closest, keeps both malls!  Or we can make it easier and I'll trade you my Natick Collection for your Troy Collection AND your Bellevue Collection.  And I'll just GIVE you my "Starta Collection" trademark. My lawyer said it wasn't a liability. Or did he say asset? Aw heck, who cares. It's yours. That's what best mall-collector friends do!

I laughed even harder the first time I went to the Collection. I discovered that it had actually gone upscale as intended and attracted a few customers that will at least pretend to shop at those high-end stores. They even turned their noses up at my kids who were joyfully playing on your upscale couches.  The venue's new image even gave the security guard reason to be a snob, lecturing the kids about how not to touch the water fountain or make fun of his career choice.  

We did venture into one of your new stores.  The very serious staff at the chocolate store, which has since closed, were far from family-friendly.  As we stood in line pondering what $6 piece of $1 chocolate we would split four-ways, our kids started to explore the empty store.  They were in fact, extremely well-behaved in that moment.  As my daughter approached a comfy chair, the manager ran interference and explained that he didn't want a mess on his furniture.  He must have seen my son try to write his name with jam-covered fingers on the leather couch near the Concierge.  Is there really a concierge at the mall? I digress.  We left annoyed and disappointed that we didn't get to taste rich people chocolate.  However, it all worked out in the end because we needed the $6 for the valet tip.

You must be wondering when the apology part of this letter will appear.  A recent news story explained that you are filing for bankruptcy.  Therefore, I sincerely apologize for lampooning the name that you selected for your beloved mall.  The Collection was not a silly name after all.  In the end, it was actually quite forward-looking.  

Sincerely,

A Mall Rat from Framingham

Razors Cut

I have been very busy and disappointed that I don't have more time to write. I have so many stories to share, but not enough time to put them in words. But, I'm trying! I always have at least six posts in the draft stages. So, please keep checking in. If you are new to my blog, please read some of my older posts.

In the meantime....

Razors Cut

Razor USA issued a recall for approximately 100,000 scooters this week. The reason? These particular Razors cut. This is not necessarily funny, because there have apparently been a dozen reports of injuries by Razor riders. Apparently, the vehicle has sharp edges that may result in lacerations. Some of those injured required surgery due to damaged Achilles tendons.

Speaking of the Achilles, is this what Razor's competitors were hoping for? Razors that cut? Isn't this what Razor engineers undoubtedly asked by executives to avoid? There certainly must have been a big sign in the lunchroom that said "We cannot, we repeat cannot, live up to our name. Do not design or manufacture parts that may cause Razor sharp cuts. Bodily injury is bad for the company image. And it's too late to change our company name to Really Dull Blade."

Since you are asking me, I will agree that the company's name is unfortunate in light of these recalls. I do not ride a scooter, but the name just seems terribly misplaced. I can only guess that the Razor name is intended to conjure up an image of a scooter cutting through the air or through traffic. However, I think that if scooters were designed to do anything but scoot they would have received a better name from the start. That said, I always thought that 'Skedaddle' was a more appropriate name.

Scooters scoot. Razors cut.

We ride scooters. We cut with razors.

I didn't get up in the morning and remove stubble with a scooter before jumping on my razor to cut through traffic on my way to work.

Anyways, you get my point. Of course there was a recall. These three and four wheel motorized skateboards were bound to injure someone with successful branding like that.

If Razor USA wants to regain their footing in the scooter market, I recommend that they change their corporate name to Skedaddle. I gaurantee that they will never get customers reporting that their Achilles heel was skedaddled on their scooter while cutting through traffic.

The Business End of Canine Crime Fighting

Sometime during my childhood, between burning leaves with a magnifying glass and failing a quantum physics course in college, I decided that I wanted to be a scientist. I knew that someday my work in the genetics field would have application and relevance to the common suburbanite. For this reason, I was thrilled to hear the news that the field's work on canine genetics has finally paid off in a way that makes me proud. Recent developments clearly demonstrate the potential effect of this work on my daily life.

What kind of effect? Let me explain. In at least one city in Israel, DNA testing is being used to match dog poop with it's 'source'. Fines will be applied to any dog owner whose dog's feces are found on the ground in public areas. This is truly a small victory for the field of genetic testing.

Dog owners in that particular city are required to have their dogs' cheeks' swabbed by a city-appointed veterinarian. I would love to see a dog cheek swabbing event, but that will have to wait until the poop review comes to my town.

Canine landmines found around town that violate city ordinances will also be tested. Hopefully, there is a match and the dogowner receives a ticket with a fine in the mail.

This is brilliant! I plan to write a letter to my town government in Framingham and ask that they seriously consider this approach. I have polled my non-dogowner neighbors and they unanimously agree and have promised to cheer louder than official town laughter and town official laughter when I presnt this at the next town meeting.

But, I am not only determined to eliminate one particular Dalmation from fertilizing my yard. This dog tracking technique also has benefits for crime fighting. For example, let's imagine that my house was burglarized. I already don't like where this is going, so please stop imagining that now. Instead, let's pretend that my neighbor's house was robbed. He wasn't home and there aren't any known witnesses. However, a diligent CSI discovers Dalmation dog feces in my front yard.

Were the Dalmation's poop databased and analyzed for estimated time of "delivery", they might have themselves a witness. By the way, please don't be surprised if "poop databasing" is a household phrase someday because my work in the genetics field will have that kind of impact, I promise.

If the dog happened to do his business during or close to the time of the burglary, the police could ask the dogowner if they saw anything suspicious. The perfect scenario would be one in which the dogowner explained that he did see something suspicious, which is why he did not see the crime scene evidence planted by his best friend. Regardless of the outcome, you would have a complete "chain of custody" as follows:

Burglar --> Neighbor's House --> My House --> Feces --> Dog --> Dog owner (Witness)

A town that adopts "poop databasing" will not only help crime fighting but their efforts might also result in crime prevention. Would-be criminals would literally have to watch their step and beware of dogs everywhere. I hesitate to state the obvious, but sneakers can also be swabbed providing an additional opportunity for complete traceability in the chain.

Finally, I will recommend that the town not give up too easily on the dog owner traceability method and it's range of potential benefits. If the system is implemented and feces in my yard does not match a local dog or crime, I will politely ask at the next town committee meeting: "Can you please do a cheek swab on old man Rogers three doors down?"

Chop. Chop.

Three women in their golden years tied themselves to a crab apple tree earlier this week in Shrewsbury, MA. The fiery old women were protesting a plan at their housing facility that involved the removal of said tree. The women held onto a yellow rope that wrapped loosely through each of their hands and the would-be paper. I fully support their cause, for unnecessary removal of any living creature is worth fighting against. Especially, when the tree is being removed to make room for a dumpster.

On the nightly news, the women confidently stated their intentions. They will stay tied to the tree through breakfast, lunch, and dinner (which starts at 4:00). They will only leave the tree to sleep.

I am surprised that this even made the news. I am not supporting the removal of the tree but if I were a city authority that did, I would plan my day like this:

Morning: Sharpen chainsaw blades.
Early Afternoon: Respond to questions to the media.
Late Afternoon: Say goodnight to three nice ladies.
Evening: Chop. Chop.

But, instead I will make a proposal to these wildlife warriors. Instead, attach yourselves to the dumpster. Also, make bold statements about preserving the natural environment of trash receptacles and the imbalance that may occur if the dumpster is moved. That would be news.

Dear General Motors

Dear General Motors,

I highly recommend that you fire the advertising firm assigned to your Chevrolet brand. Granted, over the years they have produced memorable jingles. A Google search informed me that you had great success in the 1950s with a radio song called "See the USA in Your Chevrolet" sung as a duet on a musical variety show. This was last century so I would like to instead draw attention to a personal favorite from more recent years, "Have you driven a Chevy-y-y-y lately?" In the spirit of full disclosure, I regretfully admit that when this commercial was popular I bought a Ford instead. Sorry.

Despite your ad team's continued success at branding through radio advertisements, I am disappointed in their recent oversight displayed in a commercial for your new electric car, the Chevy Volt. It begins with an announcer saying "Ok, Listen." This request is followed by an extended moment of silence. The first time I heard the commercial, I didn't realize that it was silence and thought that I was missing something. However, the second time I listened to the commercial I followed your suggestion and listened to the silence and confirmed that it was in fact silence.

The announcer then returns to say, "That, my friend, is the sound of the future." This is where disappointment sets in. A proper Internet search would have revealed that silence is not the sound of the future. The future will be noisy and you need to know this now. A legislative committee in CA is currently working on recommendations for how to make hybrid and electric cars noisier so as to be heard by the blind. A noble cause indeed, but with potentially interesting results. For more information and very objective commentary, please see my recent post on this topic: http://cafuffle.blogspot.com/2008/08/noisy-cars.html.

Once you have fired your advertising team, please consider re-hiring some of your recently laid-off engineers from one your SUV divisions to make your new electric cars noisier. I recommend an external speaker system that produces a gass-guzzling sound. Guzzling certainly does make a sound, right? The law enforcement officials hired to enforce this new legislation will not be suspicious, I'm sure. For this project, I recommend someone from your Suburban line. However if your budgets require something with less development costs, you could try baseball cards in the wheel spokes. That, my friend, is the sound of the future.

Sincerely,
Disappointed in Framingham

Keno Anniversary

Keno marked a milestone on Thursday. I can't remember what it was exactly, but it was one of the following:

1 millionth game
1 millionth winner
1 millonth convenience store to close as the result of loitering Keno addicts keeping normal people from ever reaching the front of the line to purchase their tree-shaped car fresheners and Skittles.

To celebrate, I plan to carve out 10 hours of my day to visit a packie and try my hand at Keno. I would sit hunched over a small card table between the stale bread and chewing tobacco. I'll chain smoke. Well....ok, thanks to Massachusetts laws, this is not going to happen. Instead, I will simply talk as if I have been a chain smoker since the age of 5. Every now and then, I'll mumble to myself and occasionally slam my hand on the table and yell "Damn Keno! Back in '82 I won $100 and they've been screwing with me ever since! Today is not my lucky day. NOT MY LUCKY DAY!!!!"

Okay, so maybe I won't. But, wouldn't it be fun?

Noisy Cars

On NPR this morning, there was a segment about how electric and hybrid vehicles are dangerous for the blind. I completely understand this and can see how this would be true.

But, what struck me as humorous is that the bill passed by the CA legislature provides that a committee will be established to determine ways in which the vehicles could be made noisier. I'm imagining sound machines strapped to the hood of every Prius. Not white noise though - that could be even more dangerous. Perhaps a recording of Sam Kinnison screaming or Gilbert Gottfried talking to make sure nobody steps off the curb within a mile radius. What's safer than that?

No, really. How will they make cars noisier? I recommend creative financing allowing for early payoff. For these cars will almost certainly make more noise (probably from the engine or transmission) the day after the last payment is made.