Komedy Klassics

Stop me if you've heard this one: "Something which has never occurred since time immemorial; a young woman did not fart in her husband's lap." No? Well, according to researchers, that joke goes back to Sumeria in 1900 B.C. It's not exactly a laugh riot, I grant you, but it does include one of the funniest words in any language: husband.
But seriously folks, we've got scientists getting paid to find the word's oldest joke. It reminds me of the Monty Python skit about the "killer joke", not to be confused with the eighties band, Killing Joke. The Python joke went something like this: "Wenn ist das Nunstück git und Slotermeyer? Ja! ... Beiherhund das Oder die Flipperwaldt gersput." If your high school German is up to snuff, you're probably just now picking yourself up off the floor. Or not.
Because that's the thing about jokes, isn't it? Sometimes the magic works, other times you just get a blank look for your trouble. Or worse, you could get the omnipresent joke-killer, "I don't get it." I wonder if the originator of a 1600 B.C. gag about a pharaoh, said to be King Snofru, "How do you entertain a bored pharaoh? You sail a boatload of young women dressed only in fishing nets down the Nile and urge the pharaoh to go catch a fish," got only shrugs on his delivery. Ancient Egyptians weren't known for their timing.
Long before the boys in Monty Python got together, sometime in the 10th Century, we get our first English joke: "What hangs at a man's thigh and wants to poke the hole that it's often poked before? Answer: A key." Again, not exactly "The Parrot Sketch", but back then there was all that trouble with the Vikings, and it probably seemed like the height of levity. I guess you had to be there.

Eat To The Beat

I ate a lot of cheeseburgers last week. I was on vacation. That was the way I reconciled the fact that I was pounding down red meat with the occasional slice of bacon. The fact that I spent at least three of those days taking that fuel out on high-speed-turbulent-roller-coaster-type-rides was just a way to test my digestive process. The good news is that everything stayed put. That turns out to be the bad news too.
Since a good meaty chunk of the time I spent on my proto-Atkins adventure was spent in Los Angeles, I took special interest in the news that their City Council is putting South Los Angeles on a diet. The council voted unanimously Tuesday to place a moratorium on new fast food restaurants. The definition exempts "fast-food casual" restaurants such as El Pollo Loco, Subway and Pastagina, which do not have drive-through windows or heat lamps and prepare fresh food to order. This comes hard on the heels of California becoming the first state in the nation to bar trans fats, which lowers levels of good cholesterol and increases bad cholesterol. As one of the chief architects of the now infamous "Hamdog," I feel a wave of change sweeping the state, if not the country. I can smell it. It smells like cilantro.
Dunkin' Donuts will begin offering a new slate of better-for-you offerings in August. "We're staying very true to our brand and very true to our heritage," said the company's executive chef Stan Frankenthaler. "We're just growing and evolving." Evolving into a muffin and flatbread turkey sandwich company, he means. In gastronomically related news, restaurant chains Bennigan’s and Steak & Ale have filed for Chapter Seven bankruptcy protection and stores owned by its parent company will shut their doors. It just got a little harder to find a good plate of Cheese & Bacon Potato Skins.
I guess it's a good thing to eat healthy. You live longer. But do you really want to live forever in a world without Asiago Fried Cheese with marinara sauce?

W.W.P.D?

President Pinhead continues to make history, even as his days in office trickle down to a precious few. Monday evening the White House announced the Pointy-Headed One approved the Army's request to execute a soldier convicted of rape and murder. Private Ronald Gray has been on the military's death row at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, since 1988. His execution would be the first for the U.S. military since 1961. "While approving a sentence of death for a member of our armed services is a serious and difficult decision for a commander-in-chief, the president believes the facts of this case leave no doubt that the sentence is just and warranted," White House apologist Dana Perino said.
Gray pleaded guilty to two murders and five rapes in a civilian court and was sentenced to three consecutive and five concurrent life terms. But guess what? A general court-martial at the Army's Fort Bragg then tried him and in April 1988 convicted him of two murders, an attempted murder and three rapes. He was unanimously sentenced to death.
Pinhead allowed one hundred fifty-two executions as governor of Texas and has signed off on three executions of federal inmates since he became president. It's unclear why Pinhead didn't act until Monday, since the request for Gray's execution was sent to the White House in 2005 by the secretary of defense after Gray exhausted his appeals. Executions nationwide have been on hold while the U.S. Supreme Court reviewed the constitutionality of lethal injection. Lethal injection is the official method for execution at Fort Leavenworth.
Maybe our President feels that clock ticking. The one that says that time is running out for him to have the power of life and death. I suppose if there is a bright spot, this is a confessed murderer who has received the due process of two legal systems. Then there's the case of "ex-soldier" Steven D. Green. The former Army private was charged with killing four members of an Iraqi family and raping one of the victims before shooting her. Green was honorably discharged from the Army as a private first class for what court papers referred to as a "personality disorder." It is still possible, if convicted, that former private Green could be executed for his crimes. Given the time consuming appeals process, it's still possible for Pinhead to establish residency in Kentucky and run for governor before sentencing. What Would Pinhead Do?

Conservatively Compassionate

Chicago Sun-Times columnist Robert Novak says he is suspending his journalistic work for an indefinite, "but God willing, not too lengthy period." His statement did not say if the tumor was malignant. I can't imagine that anything that might be found in or around Mister Novak would be anything but malignant.
On April 27, 1972 Novak reported in a column that an unnamed Democratic senator had talked to him about McGovern. "The people don’t know McGovern is for amnesty, abortion and legalization of pot," the Senator said. "Once middle America - Catholic middle America, in particular - finds this out, he’s dead." The label stuck and McGovern became known as the candidate of "amnesty, abortion and acid."
In 2002, Novak's attitudes towards animal welfare came under scrutiny when he stated in an interview that he attended a cockfight in Puerto Rico and "relished it tremendously", adding that the United States has "too damn many" anti-cruelty statutes. He also expressed his avid support of dog fighting and bullfighting.
In 2005, he left CNN after twenty-five years after an on-air dustup that ended up with Mister Novak throwing down his microphone and storming off the stage. And where do you suppose he reappeared just a few months later? On Fox "We Report, You Deride" News as a "news contributor."
If it was their intent to acquire a maker of news, then they got their money's worth. Novak was the first to publicly reveal the name of CIA operative Valerie Plame. "Scooter" Until his sentence was commuted by his Pinhead Boss, "Scooter" Libby went to jail for being one of the few government officials to be caught spilling the covert beans about Ms. Plame's identity. Bob Novak used the opportunity to switch networks.
Just a few days ago, Novak was cited by police after he hit a sixty-six year old pedestrian with his black Corvette in downtown Washington, D.C. Bob told reporters, "He's not dead, that's the main thing." Mister Novak was chased down and stopped by a witness on a bicycle who caught up with him and then put his bike in front of the car to block it and called 911. According to an item in The Washington Post’s Reliable Source column, Novak explained away a prior near-miss with a pedestrian: "He was crossing on the red light. I really hate jaywalkers. I despise them. Since I don't run the country, all I can do is yell at 'em. The other option is to run 'em over, but as a compassionate conservative, I would never do that." Two years later, the same column reported that Novak had gone to a racing school in Florida. "I've wanted to be a racecar driver all my life, and anyone who has watched me drive can tell you that,” Novak said.
Maybe now that he has a brain tumor, someone at the Make-A-Wish Foundation can make that dream come true. Until then, let's all enjoy the quiet of Robert Novak's absence.

Well Of Souls

I've been getting a lot of e-mail lately exhorting the joys of "Christian Dating." I have no doubt that if I were a single Christian, this might be the first thing I look at, right after that message from this poor Angolan woman whose husband was killed by evil despots and needs my help to return his fortune to his family. So many people need my help out there, why not help myself with a little Christian Love Connection?
I guess the best reason for this would be that I am already married, so my need for a dating service seems a little redundant. I also wonder a little about just how "Christian" it is to seek out potential life partners using Al Gore's Internet. If the eyes are a window into your soul, what kind of view does one get from an on-line profile? What makes this service morally superior to any other?
I wonder this because of a time in my now distant past that I once drove down to put my face and idiosyncrasies in the pool of Great Expectations, a dating service of some renown. I went after work, so I carried a couple extra shirts with me, as I was reminded oh-so-politely that making an impression is the first step. My sweaty Western Systems Installation shirt was probably not going to net me the girl of my dreams. I entered with an open mind. After all, I had gone a number of years without going on a single "real date," and I reckoned that maybe I needed professional help.
To make a long story short, I found that I couldn't really afford their service, and not just financially. During my introductory interview, I found that I wasn't nearly as desperate as I thought I was for companionship. There were plenty of other sad and lonely people ahead of me willing to part with a good chunk of cash along with a portion of their dignity to be fixed up with their life partner. I never bother changing my shirt. I drove home alone, but just a little bit happier than when I started the day.
Now one can enjoy the same experience from the privacy of their own homes, from the relative safety of their computer screens. Like adult entertainment before it, the dating experience has found a safe and discreet home on Al Gore's Internet. Part of me wonders if I would have been more willing to participate in my own Great Expectations if I could have done it with a keyboard and a mouse. I guess I'm glad that it never came to that.

"Y"? Because We Like It

We get the same response from a lot of people when they hear where we're going on vacation: "You're going back there again?" We are nothing if not creatures of habit. We like our Disney, and we like it in big steamy, fun-filled days. It is a tradition that has been handed down from my father and, well, from my father anyway.
Growing up, my family didn't make that many trips to the Magic Kingdom, but when it was time, each of us three boys were introduced to the House of Mouse in order that we might one day find a way to preserve the order. My older brother, though he lives half a continent away from either of the American Disney parks, has made it a priority to get himself and as much of his family as he can manage to Anaheim on a regular basis, with an occasional stop in Orlando as well. He is a franchise kind of guy.
I am very much the same way, having made my biggest connection to Disneyland eighteen years ago, when I drove down from Oakland with my girlfriend to meet my younger brother and some friends for the day. Little did we know that we would be inaugurating a trend. Later, when that girlfriend became my wife, we insisted that one of the ports of call on our honeymoon was Disney World. It gave my father-in-law great pause to know that this new addition to his family was so consumed with an amusement park.
I could have told him what I tell other people: It isn't just an amusement park. It's a way of being. The people are nicer there. They're helpful to the point of absurdity at times, and while I've certainly had a few tough days in The Happiest Place On Earth, I know that any day in Disneyland beats the heck out of any day on the job. Even standing in line is relatively pleasant there, and they've just given us all a way to avoid even that by clever use of the Fast Pass system, that allows guests to return at a more convenient time to skip the extra stress of having to wait for a chance to get spun, turned, dropped or tossed about. You could spend day just sitting on a bench near Main Street watching the people go by and have a pretty good time. One night, as we stood watching a fireworks spectacular from behind Sleeping Beauty's castle, a helpful Disney insider - not an employee but a seasoned observer of such things - shouted, "Look to the Matterhorn!" Sure enough, suspended high above the expanse between Fantasy and Fontierland was Tinkerbell, flashing through the rockets' red glare. It gave us all a deeper sense of community, and mild obsession. The next day, a cast member gave my son an "Honorary Citizen of Disneyland" button just for being such an interested observer as we loaded into the submarine ride. I don't know when I've been so proud. Or so jealous.
We're just about done with this trip, but we're already anticipating the next. Waiting in line for Pirates of the Caribbean is nothing compared to waiting for your next trip to Disneyland.

Amped Up

There are a few peak moments in my musical memory: Hearing the swirling keyboard intro to "Baba O'Riley" pour out over the crowd at Folsom Field. The thunder of the opening chords of "Born in the U.S.A." roaring out into Mile High Stadium. The echoes of the crowd singing along with the chorus of "Biko" as Peter Gabriel told us "the rest is up to you."
There are more, but the thing that these all have in common are that they were all loud. I studied music, and I was instructed in the ways of dynamics. Sometimes it's necessary to be quiet. There should always be contrast. That is why it is so very important to have an amp that will go up to eleven. After all, it is one more, isn't it?
I remember there was a short period there when Pete Townshend wasn't going to be playing electric guitar anymore. This was due in part to The Who concert at Charlton Athletic Football Ground, London, on May 31, 1976 that was listed in the Guinness Book of Records, where the volume level was measured at 126 decibels. I still remember wondering, after the first concert I attended featuring a very exuberant Elton John, how long that ringing in my ears would last. Pete's working on about thirty years now.
I know that there is danger in those decibels. I also know that my goose flesh is connected directly to the volume control. It's a terrible habit, and I know that I need to be careful about what I model for my son. He wore his ear protection when he went to see DEVO. And The Police. And Springsteen. This kid rocks, and even though I sometimes have to call his name two or three times to get his attention, I know he's not losing his hearing. He's just ignoring me.