My new game

You're standing in front of the microwave, waiting for that last 30 or 45 seconds to expire. Inside, you feel like Homer Simpson and it's all you can do not to scream, "c'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" at the thing. Having done this a few times, I thought there had to be a better way. So I invented a game.

I look at the timer. It might say five minutes, it might say 35 seconds -- whatever it is, the game is on! My goal is to find something I can fully accomplish in that small allotment of time. Turns out, it's a fun game.

I've learned that I can make the bed in less than three minutes, and can set up a new pot of coffee in a minute and 30 seconds. I might look at a pile of dishes, glance at the clock, and then dive in mightily, doing the dishes in less than 45 seconds. It's fun!

So the next time you find yourself staring at an unforgiving microwave, see what you can accomplish in that amount of time. I'm tellin' ya. This could become an exciting "reality" TV show. (It's gotta be better than American Idol, no? Okay, that's setting the bar too low. But try it!)

Xmas past

My Aunt Sue, may she rest in the ground, used to make us laugh at Xmas. She didn't know this, but that just made it more fun.

On Xmas Eve, my extended family always went to Aunt Sue's house in Elmont, Long Island. Since the family got along for the most part, we all looked forward to this family gathering. We did the usual: ate our hearts out and gave presents to the kids.

When it came time, we would open Aunt Sue's presents with equal amounts of trepidation and glee. The paper unwrapped, we'd open the box and lift the tissue paper and see...something. She gave the strangest presents in the world. Even years later, and with extensive family consultations, we wouldn't know what the thing was. Of course, this would cause endless laughter. (Don't worry; she never knew. We were not an evil family.)

To give an example, one year she gave my sister this thing. It was a, a...sort of a necklace-type thing made of rope and beads -- but there was no way to put it over your head. The hole was too small. It didn't have any hooks or fasteners that might have turned it into a big, clunky bracelet. We were stumped -- and remained that way.

I remember one year, we asked her what something was. Her response was, "I just saw it and thought you would like it." She was very nice and always vague, dear Aunt Sue. These memories seem so sweet now. Those were great family evenings -- even though one of the uncles would always get drunk and sing. He wasn't even bad, but it was the same song, again and again. And this spanned decades. 

But we had fun and that's what Xmas is all about. By the way, I noticed they've made a movie of my book, Xmas Carol. I saw it in the listings for Turner Classic Movies. But they spelled the title incorrectly! It said "A Christmas Carol". Weird. But I'm glad someone made a movie out of my book. I'll have to see it sometime. 

Ho, ho, ho. Sorta. Don't let anything ruin your Xmas. Go have fun!

Great video from MoveOn (NSFW)

You have to watch this, but turn the sound low if you're at work.


Is that great, or what? (Hat tip: Digby)

Giddy fun

I must be going manic. I say this because I'm giddy. That's always the first sign. Well, that and ordering tons of things online.

Anyway, I find the following very funny. This is an actual sentence from a NYT travel article -- except I changed one letter.

As I pulled my suitcase down the cobbled, car-free lanes of Ciutadella, the island’s ancient capital, an ocher glow bloomed across the feces of residents who sat on the terraces of back-street bars, their voices echoing within a canyon of Gothic and Baroque buildings. 

What can I say? I find it funny. Did I mention that I'm giddy? It's just that the sentence was so overdone. It begged me to do this to it. Really it did. No, really.

I fully expect all the comments on this post to take the form of:

"It's about time you included Brit bathroom humor on your site! Well done!"

Typos in headlines are great fun

I caught one a day ago. Now, the final headline for an AP story was "Oldest Son of Austria's Last Emperor Buried." Fine, right?

But earlier in the day that headline read "Oldest Son of Austria's Last Buried". I really liked that version. Talk about being famous for less than 15 minutes -- that title probably moves to a new person every 15 seconds.

I love this stuff.

The joy of obituaries

There have always been obituaries in newspapers, but I can't say I noticed them until I entered my sixties. Suddenly they were interesting.

First, a note to obit writers. Do not omit the person's age! I can't believe how many obituaries don't list the age. This is essential to the message. Was this person 12 or 96? It matters. And now, on to other aspects of obituaries, such as the thrill (okay, the fun) of reading them.

I don't know how others react to obituaries, but I find myself poo-pooing people who die in their 40s or 50s. Don't these people have any mettle? What happened to their stick-to-it-ive-ness? Weak as water!

The most amazing thing about them is the three or four-word summary of the person's life.Three words? That's so scary. But I must say they do a damn fine job of it, at least at the Times. Among today's offerings we find, "Wright-trained architect"; "Writer of Gentle Wit"; and "Shaper of Hit Records". You have to give them credit for packing a ton of information into such a tiny space. Then again, there are some obits that may as well say, "Had good appetite," given the person's lack of achievements. These, of course, are great fun to read. "Liked big parties". Indeed. Yes, there is humor in obituaries. You just have to look for it (and perhaps you should be somewhat old).

And of course, we ruminate as we read the obits. Oh, that one was my age! Gasp. This one was a writer too, and he died younger than me and just before he published his first book! There's a ton of this as we pick our way through them and relate their situations to our own. But we can't die! It only happens to other people. This goes round and round and I don't know why I call it fun, but I do.

With the exception of very young people dying, I don't feel sympathy for any of them. First, they're usually titans of corporations and I couldn't care less if they died. Mind you, I only read the Times obits, so it's partly due to their focus on the rich.

And as a regular reader of these things now, one thing I notice is the obscene lifespans of so many rich people. There are tons of 97-year-olds and 102-year-olds in the Times obits, and most often they are people who led luxe lives with excellent, lifelong access to health care. Money seems to make a big difference in how long you live, at least in this country. Sadly, there is inequality even in obits.

They're fascinating and I suppose they'll only become more interesting as the years march by.

UPDATE: In this morning's Boston Herald there is an obituary with the following four-word summary: "Ceramist Responded to Holocaust with Art". I feel a kinship with this fellow because I've responded to the American decline by writing books. Obits are interesting; they just are.

Speaking of which . . .

The second book in my sci-fi trilogy, The Pod, the God and the Planet, includes a highly familiar character.

Yes, the pope is a character in book 2 of The Worlds!  Hooray!  The book opens in the 2050's so this character is actually a future pope, not the guy below. I have a lot of fun with the little feller and I think regular readers of this blog will get a kick out of the way he's portrayed.

Creating this character was amazing fun. I actually laughed as I wrote the scenes in which he appeared. It was a joyous act of creation. And when and if you read the book, in the end I think you'll agree that I was fairly kind to the man. I do not inspire hate for the character, only empathy. Mind you, he's still an old fool but we understand his motivations and he is not a monster. For an actual monster, see below).