Foreskin: It's what's for breakfast!

  I would like to correct a language error that has been around for some decades. That is the word "Brunch". People commonly use this term to mean a meal between breakfast and lunch.This is often consumed on the weekend with friends and/or family for about triple the cost of the same meal when bought at other times of the day. However, this is not an accurate definition. It is actually supposed to be called "Breach" or "Breanch" if you are from New England. In the southern hemisphere where things are generally backwards or upside down it is customary to refer to it as either "Lunst" or a mildly confusing "Lust" as the lunch part precedes the breakfast portion of the word.
  The true origin of this word is far more interesting and goes back to the several thousand year old tradition of ritual circumcision. Although many cultures and religions perform these circumcisions, the first to do this were the Jewish people as they were commanded to in the Torah (referred to as the "Old Testament" by non-Jews). For those who do not know of this delightful tradition I will explain. God commanded the Jewish people that on the eighth day of a baby boy's life, an expert called a mohel, (pronounced moil, rhymes with oil) will hack the foreskin off the boy's penis with a machete. This is not as cruel as it sounds as the baby is given a drop or two of wine on a gauze pad, so he is drunk and just thinks someone has slammed his pecker in a car door. So that screaming you hear from a newly foreskin-free boy is just him yelling at his mother for being careless with the car door and please get some ice on that thing.
  Well that sounds like fun, you say, but couldn't we just skip it? The answer is a resounding NO! Jews have a choice: chop off the foreskin or God chops off your soul! Not quite "an eye for an eye", but do you really want to risk your soul?Some Jews actually question god asking "Hey big guy, if you didn't want us to have foreskin, then why did you give it to us in the first place? And then we could just skip this thing altogether". But I know what you're thinking. As interesting as this is, what does this have to do with "Brunch"?
  These ritual penis-carving ceremonies are typically done in the morning (sometimes in the afternoon if the Mohel is heavily booked, but forbidden at night) after which people are ready to celebrate. So, a delightful meal is served. typically in the late morning. Now this circumcision is called a "Brit" (pronounced bris, rhymes with bliss). Hence the "Br" from "Brit" combined with the "unch" from "Lunch" forms "Brunch".
  So, the next time you are out for what you call "Brunch", please think of foreskin, blood, and screaming babies and enjoy your meal.
  
 

The Martians are hungry

I normally don't comment on anything political, but an interesting tidbit came up and I have to set the record straight. It seems that Congresswoman Michele Bachmann has said publicly that the president is using the migrant children so the US can perform medical experiments on them. She has offered no proof nor has she divulged her sources. You would think a person in congress would be reliable, but I know the reason she will not give proof or sources. I have inside information of my own and I'm going to share it with you so you can know the real unvarnished true story.
  Some of you may know (but most do not) that we are under the sway of the Martians. They give us amazing and useful technology (Do you really believe that those drunken college kids actually invented Google, Facebook, Twitter, smart phones, etc?) and we give them Earth's resources in return. You know like air, water, Chipotle Burritos, etc.. Well, it seems that the Martians have entered a new phase of their 5000 year life cycle. They're  entering a phase where they need to store more energy. Basically they are hungry. And their favorite food? Tender , juicy children, that's what!
  So, after informing president Obama of their needs, the president concocted a brilliant plan. He would allow central american children to enter the US and say things like "I'm hungry" or "I want to go to school in the best country in the world" or "The drug cartels killed my mommy and I'm next". After the ultra rightists accused the the children of being terrorists and murderers and leaches sucking away all of America's resources , money and virgins, the president would whisk them away to the Martians to be made into baby meat stew, macaroni and child brains, and their favorite dessert, iced baby on a stick with chocolate syrup. Martians are suckers for chocolate. Not only would the president solve the migrant problem he so cleverly created , thus being a hero, he would save thousands of american children from being Martian entrees.
  So now you know the real truth, rather than some half baked (Ha Ha -  half baked is a great food pun for this article) unverified, nit wittery from , well a nit wit . Way to go 6th congressional district of Minnesota ! Keep electing entertainment over, I don't know, competence.
See this for more.

Jigsaw Puzzles - Why?

  I have a jigsaw puzzle on my dining room table. It's a Star Trek puzzle. The original series. With Kirk, Spock and the gang. You know, the good one. Not like that "Next Generation" nonsense where every episode involved wormholes and the captain with the French name had a perfect English accent . No, this is the real thing, the trendsetter, the one with $25 sets, decent stories, a star who could not act, and a man who made a synagogue hand gesture into the most recognized symbol in science fiction.
  But, this is not about the TV show, but about jigsaw puzzles. Mine has been on the table for about 44 weeks and in another 700 pieces this 1000 piece beauty will be done. So, in another two years or so I will have a completed puzzle to break apart and put back into its box. Why you ask? Well, that's the way it is done. That's what the clever puzzle people are counting on when you get a puzzle. Make it, break it, buy another. So, they get a famous(ish) picture, print thousands of them on cardboard and cut them to pieces so people can have the challenge of putting them back together. Why not just buy the picture and hang it on the wall? This will save a great deal of time and when you need your table you won't have to try sliding your partially done puzzle onto a piece of cardboard.
  Some people do enjoy this pastime and do many such puzzles. Some do it once or twice, or less. Here is the progression of puzzle doing for the one timers (me). First week you're interested and do 50-75 pieces.
Second week is still good, about 40-50 pieces. After this the "inverse time - puzzle law" goes into effect and as each week goes by less pieces are found. In fact, after several months you will no longer even notice it at all. It will become just another decoration or houseplant.It's there , but it's no longer part of your reality.
  If you feel you must try jigsaw puzzling (and many are seduced into thinking it will be a joyful pastime and make you seem smart), here are the prerequisites:
1 - You must have spare time. Otherwise known as time on your hands or time to kill. This is ideal if you are in prison.
2 - You need good eyesight. Both acuity and color. Otherwise you will find that all the damn pieces look the damn same.
3 - You must be patient. In other words you must like boredom. Maybe watching paint dry is your thing. If so, perfect.
4 -  You must play by the rules and break the puzzle apart after finishing and taking a picture to prove you actually completed the puzzle. No cheating by gluing and framing and hanging the finished piece and having actual physical proof.
So, if you must then go do a puzzle . But don't tell me.

Get a bike

Like many, I have tried many types of exercise, exercise equipment and gyms. None ever worked for long. Not because I didn't want to be a super fit , studly looking guy , but because exercise is BORING and often PAINFUL.After a while you come up with excuses to do shorter sessions and then skip them all together. Or a minor injury can set you back a couple of weeks and then you just lose interest. In my forties I even tried yoga. My reasoning being what could be more fun than going into a 95 degree room with a bunch of mostly younger women and  twisting yourself into a pretzel while trying not to pass gas?Alas for me, yoga too did pass.

  So what was I to do? Now past 50 and getting - pick your favorite adjective - puffy, meaty, paunchy, fleshy, pudgy. I was actually starting to look like pictures of my grandfather!Admittedly a handsome guy, but he passed away very young. Maybe a partner would help, like Sharon - pick your favorite noun - spouse, better half, partner, wife. What could we do together? I knew a lot of people had taken up bike riding in recent years and it seemed pretty safe(hah! Tell that to my knees) to me. Not wanting a poor quality bike or to spend a boatload of money, I found and emailed several nearby bike shops about buying good used bikes. It was January of 2013 leaving me plenty of time to weigh options. Only one of them answered me. No, they did not sell used bikes , but did have a tent sale every spring they informed me.Since they were courteous enough to answer, I figured they would be good to deal with. So , at the end of April 2013 I headed to Deerfield Cyclery.  
  About a thousand bucks later, we had two hybrid bikes, two helmets, two water bottles, two cages, two kickstands and one basket tossed in for free (for Sharon). 
  Now for the fun part that I envisioned. Riding dozens of miles together on perfect windless, cloudless, 72 degree days. Instead for May and June of 2013 it basically rained every day. Finally a nice day came and after work I leaped onto my bicycle determined to go on a lengthy ride. Three miles later I stopped , gasping for breath and with unexpected  pain in various parts of my body.Still, I wouldn't be beaten so easily and soon got back in(on?) the saddle. And again and again. Three miles became four, then five, then six. Finally one weekend I made it to double digit miles. Now I was hooked. Somehow being outside in the elements, with only my own thoughts made riding more than exercise. Yes there is the challenge of going a little farther or a little faster. Or conquering a slight elevation like it was a steep mountain grade(yes there are tons of mountain roads in northeast Illinois) in the Tour de France. But finally - exercise that I enjoyed. By October I had lost 25 pounds (a typical success story for many new overweight riders) and gone on a 25 mile ride. Not far for many riders, but a big achievement for me.
This led to new goals, such as learning to fall gracefully after "clipping in" for the first time (or two times.Okay three times). Learning the difference between a seat post, seat tube and seat stay. Apparently bike riding is far more complex than when I was a kid. Today degrees or at least advanced knowledge of engineering, technology, nutrition, biomechanics, etc. are required. The learning curve is steep, but unlike my younger days I am now a good student.
Science and fatigue aside, there's nothing like a nice day for a ride on the Des Plaines river trail or the North Branch trail to enjoy yourself and forget your troubles. So get a bike and ride. Contact me if you like. I can use some company.
  

Einstein's a Chicken

For as long as I can remember, people who commit cowardly acts or run away from a fight have been called "Chicken". Most likely this stems from rural homes and small farms where chickens were raised and often would grabbed from the coop by a family member, beheaded and prepared for dinner. When some one would come,  the chickens would run wild to get away and avoid death. Now I've read that a chicken has an IQ of about 6-7, but running from certain death seems more intelligent than standing your ground in a fight you're certain to lose.
I mean imagine that your hanging around in your back yard having a beer and some nuts when suddenly you see some giant creature 50 times your size coming at you with a giant axe and looking hungry. You also remember last week when the same creature came and grabbed your next door neighbor by the throat, chopped his head off, laughed and left with him saying "mmm, mmm, mmm you'll fry up nicely". What would yo do? Break your beer bottle and say "Come and get some of this!"? Or would you run like hell and maybe live?
In 1856 in Crimea, the Light brigade charged and were slaughtered. For this they were immortalized in poem. Had they been smart enough to run away, they may have lived to fight another day.
Had Napoleon been as smart as a chicken, he would have run away from Russia and 500, 000 French deaths would have been averted.
So, it seems to me that being a chicken is a good thing and chickens are actually geniuses. Move over Einstein.

Big Bucks

I just realized that I have an Ad sense account. SO, I just checked and found that after six years and 48 posts, I have amassed 50 Cents! That's right half a buck! If I round up it's actually an entire dollar. Now I get this internet advertising revenue thing. I write stuff. You read stuff. You click on seductive ads and go to websites that sell you stuff. The company sends Google $500 (about) just for the click and Google gives me a penny. At least they will when I have accumulated $10, which will be in about 117 more years.
UNLESS, I blog everyday and you click on all of the ads to buy stuff. Then it's Cha-Ching and early retirement for me.
SO , what are you waiting for?

Big Questions

Does Facebook have a Facebook page?
Would Wikipedia have the answer?
Has the internet made hypothetical questions obsolete?
If so, then why should we bother to ask questions?
And if we don't bother to ask the questions, why do we need the internet?
Maybe I'll ask my smart phone.