Better Than "Windows"

I can't remember crap anymore. "Who's that smart guy in a wheelchair?" I asked the little woman at the breakfast table this morning---one of many similar questions to her lately.

"Stephen Hawking," she quickly replied and without disturbance to sipping her cup of tea.

"That's it," I said. "And henceforth I shall call you Google."

Thank goodness the tea hit my newspaper and not my face.

Sam and Janet

"Enchanted" or "Enchante' is the old-fashioned reply, usually by the woman, to the man to whom she's being introduced. It's rooted in the medieval belief that romance or love could be captured by an atmosphere of magical enchantment.

And so we have the famous song from the musical, "South Pacific." If I remember correctly, the song begins: "Sam and Janet evening / You will see a stranger. / You will see a stranger." Or something like that (I guess Sam and Janet are the main characters in the play). Which leads me to tomorrow:

Tomorrow is the "meet" anniversary for the little woman and me. It was many decades ago that we first laid eyes upon each other across a certain large meeting room---kind of a Sam and Janet happening. For me it was pure, old-fashioned enchantment. I like to think it was for her too. If I'm lucky, the spell never will evaporate; and, if I'm lucky, the enchantment won't turn into witchery.

Horsefly

On my return from Little Rock, I stopped in Cleveland to see my old buddy, Tom. Tom is a cussing, hard-drinking, bar-fighting, womanizing Irish-American bachelor (all the things I always wanted to be, I guess). For years he worked as a probation officer. He would do some office work in the mornings, then "go into the field" in the afternoons. "Going into the field" meant that he would go to a movie theater or go home and nap.

Anyway, Tom is a would-be horse owner or trainer. When I arrived at his condo, I found two of those play horses---the kind you find as rides in front of Walmart---each tied to his front porch with a rope. When I entered his living room, my eye caught his moving ceiling fan which had a dozen small toy horses tied to it like a carousel. Several paintings or photos of horses adorned the walls, and his tv constantly played reruns of Kentucky Derby races. After a few drinks of Kentucky bourbon with Tom, his laughter at my jokes turned into whinnies.

I then realized that Cleveland Tom had much in common with my neighbor, Seine Emory. It was time to leave.

Turn the Screws

Whew, I had a rough day. And I learned a new lesson: I learned that that which doesn't kill me doesn't make me stronger---it increases and prolongs my suffering.

Where Did I Go Wrong?

More answers from old tests by my former students:

1. "Which type of attractive force or bond holds together the sodium ions and the chloride ions in a crystal of sodium chloride?"
Leah J.'s answer: "James bond"

2. "Name one measure which can be implemented to avoid river flooding in times of intense rainfall (e.g., at the Mississippi River)."
Brian R.'s answer: "Flooding can be avoided by placing a number of big dames into the river."

3. "Name six animals which live in the Arctic region."
Matt F.'s answer: "2 polar bears and 4 seals"

4. "What is the highest frequency noise which the human ear can register."
Cathy B.'s answer: "Mariah Carey"

Good Thing I Wasn't in Hope, Arkansas

Good news! While I was in Little Rock this past weekend for a beets-and-squash conference, a new grandson of mine was born. It was my turn in the family to name the latest young 'un, and because I was so enjoying myself in Arkansas, and so delighted at this news, I said he legally shall be called Little Rock(y).

Russian Roulette

People ask me, "Why in the world do you like Rasputin [the Russian "mad monk" of the early 1900s]?"

I reply that, like me, Rasputin was impervious to bullets and liquor---as I still have some two-dozen bullets---well, shotgun pellets---in my body from an, er, hunting accident, years ago; and I still have in my body, says my physician, Doctor Smirnoff, a large batch of undigested but benign beer and vodka from my drinking days in the French Quarter of New Orleans. Moreover, I like the way that Raz deliciously blended quest for physical pleasure with quest for spiritual mysticism---no sugary pietistic nonsense for him.

When I explain it this way to questioners, I make a few new members, at least with males, for my group. For you to join, visit www.delawarerasputinsociety.org.

Our Lord of Haut Culture

I see that lightning struck a tall outdoor statue of Jesus near Solid Rock Evangelical Church in Monroe, Ohio yesterday, burning it to the ground. Way to go, Jesus! Probably too explicit for Him; probably prefers the subtlety of "appearing" in rough outline form in tortillas, dirty window panes, etc.

Ant It the Truth

Scientists say that ants lift 50 percent of their body weight, and, boy, they do so, because ants are such hard workers. Well, my grandson, who has an ant farm in his room, found eight of the many ants unexpectedly outside of the glass farm, just wandering aimlessly on the table.

"Grandpa," he said, "look! Why are these ants here?"

"Well, student grandson," I replied, "probably because they were judged by their supervisor ant to be lifting only 20 or 30 percent of their body weight."

Knock on Wood(y)

Mimes and ventriloquists---ugh. I'm reading a report that at a nightclub in Phily the ventriloquist's dummy crossed the line by suggesting that his partner is the actual dummy.

Proud of Every One of 'Em

It's early June with its many graduation ceremonies. I become nostalgic for former students. So I search my files for copies of their tests in miscellaneous subjects from years ago. Here are some questions and answers I find:

1. "Explain why phosphorus trichloride is polar."
Jennifer B.'s answer: "God made it that way."

2. "Briefly explain what hard water is."
Jean-Paul S.'s answer: "Ice"

3. "What do Mahatma Gandhi and Genghis Khan have in common?"
Aline A.'s answer: "Unusual names"

4. "Name one of the early Romans' greatest achievements."
Melissa A.'s answer: "Learning to speak Latin"

Sweet Odor of Friendship

"You know," the little woman said to me this morning, "you don't have many friends. Lord knows, neighbor Emory hardly counts as one."

"You're right," I replied, "but it might be due to my definition of what a friend is."

"And what might that be?" Jonka asked.

"A person in whose presence you can fart."

Lost Again

This week B-16 is beatifying Jerzy Popieluzsko, the priest in Poland who was murdered by government agents in the 1980s for his public pronouncements against the oppressive communist government in that country. The worldwide Church still has its occasional martyrs these days.

I read that Popieluzsko is so "Pop"ular among his fellow Poles, some 80 cities in that country have one or more streets named after him, and about 18,000 schools, parks, etc. are named for him. Good luck, then, to all the firemen, policemen, mailmen, deliverymen, and cabdrivers in Poland.

Goodbye, Old Friend

This June 9th the Catholic Church commemorates Saint Ephrem, a Syrian monk from the fourth century. I'm reminded of my old friend, Brother Ephrem, a member of a Catholic religious order of brothers, who assumed the saint's name, and who died a couple of years ago. Because of this elderly brother's humility, generosity, self-discipline, and industriousness, I liked to call him "Venerable" (but always behind his back, so that he wouldn't cuff my ears if he heard me). Now, after his death, I firmly believe that the canonical, official title of Venerable should be applied to Brother Ephrem. He deserves it more than ever.

Where's My Grain of Salt?

I remember it was precisely four years ago, when I was watching "Sunday Morning" on tv, when a commercial in the program appeared featuring British Petroleum. The spokesman in the commercial was new to me; it was the C.E.O. for B.P., Tony Hayward. He trumpeted his company as the leader among oil companies in promoting environmental sensitivity and safety concerns. I believed him and his British accent. Heck, I tend to believe all commercials and all politicians when they speak.

Then the same Tony Hayward and B.P. hit the news lately with the Gulf of Mexico oil-spill disaster. How naive could I have been? For honesty and facts in the news, I'm now sticking with Jon Stewart, Bill Maher, and Jay Leno, not oil-company publicists.

Every Other Generation

My young grandson visited me and the little woman last week.

"Grandpa," he asked me while I was reading the newspaper, "do you know how to juggle?"

"No," I answered.

"Can you paint pictures of people?"

"Nope," I replied.

"Can you fly an airplane?"

"No, why do you ask?" I said.

"I can't do any of those things, either. I must've got it from you."