A Stupid Virus Has Been Discovered


Comedian Bill Engvall is known for his comedy routine about people being stupid. He says some people are so brainless they actually need a stupid sign hanging around their necks. Imagine after all these years how excited I was to find British researchers announced over the weekend a cause for stupidness. They have discovered an algae like virus that causes cognitive degeneration in humans. In other words, they proved there is actually a virus that causes people to be stupid. The study was  published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences.

Back in the 60’s comedian Flip Wilson used to say of his failings, “The devil made me do it.” Now, apparently, idiots can unite over algae as a liberating force. Have you noticed how much time and resources people spend making excuses for their own idiotic and foolish behavior? I’m not buying this study.  Stupidity isn’t a small virus, it’s pandemic.

How do I know? I remember some years ago as a food service director of a nursing home, the alternate sandwich one night was listed as peanut butter and jelly. My cook, who had a bachelors degree, called me that evening  and asked, “Tonight you have peanut butter and jelly on the menu, do you want that on bread?” I responded, “Do you usually eat peanut butter and jelly in a bowl with a spoon or on bread?”  There was a long pause and then she said almost in a question, “Bread?”

At another place of employment I had a young cook who was not gifted in the culinary department. The nursing home residents were not happy with her abilities and I got an earful. One day, I ordered a frozen gourmet soup and told her, “You don’t have to cook, just warm it up and serve.” I left contented knowing even she couldn’t mess this up. The next day, as I arrived to work, I asked her how the evening meal went and how the folks liked the new gourmet soup. To which she quickly replied, “I couldn’t use it.”  “Why not?” I asked.    She replied, “Because it was frozen!”

Don’t believe me on how widespread stupidity is? Consider these warning labels found on everyday products:

“Do not use in shower.” — On a hair dryer.
“This product not intended for use as a dental drill.” — On an electric rotary tool.
“Do not drive with sunshield in place.” — On a cardboard sunshield that keeps the sun off the dashboard.
“Not intended for highway use.” — On a 13-inch wheel on a wheelbarrow.
“Caution: Hot beverages are hot!” — On a coffee cup.
“Caution: Shoots rubber bands.” — On a product called “Rubber Band Shooter.”
“Do not use orally.” — On a toilet bowl cleaning brush.
“Please keep out of children.” — On a butcher knife made in China.                                      “Do not use as ear plugs.” — On a package of silly putty.
“Warning: knives are sharp!” — On the packaging of a sharpening stone.
“Warning: has been found to cause cancer in laboratory mice.” — On a box of rat poison.
“Caution: Remove infant before folding for storage.” — On a portable stroller.
“Do not iron clothes on body.” — On packaging for a Rowenta iron.
“Wearing of this garment does not enable you to fly.” — On a child sized Superman costume.
“Warning: do not use if you have prostate problems.” — On a box of Midol PMS relief tablets.
“May be harmful if swallowed.” — On a shipment of hammers.
“Do not attempt to stop the blade with your hand.” — In the manual for a Swedish chainsaw.
“Warning: May contain nuts.” — On a package of peanuts.
“Warning: May cause drowsiness.” — On a bottle of Nytol, a brand of sleeping pills.        “Do not use orally after using rectally.” — In the instructions for an electronic thermometer.
“Turn off motor before using this product.” — On the packaging for a chain saw file, used to sharpen the cutting teeth on the chain.
“Not to be used as a personal flotation device.” — On a 6×10 inch inflatable picture frame.

I could offer you further proof of stupidity, but haven’t we all had enough of politics for at least one week?

 

 

 

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November Fatigue


It’s that time again I visited my primary care physician and found out how well I’m doing health wise. Despite the fact my doctor thinks I’m a hypochondriac, then again, what do OBGYN’s know, I received my blood work back from the lab. My good cholesterol is bad but my bad cholesterol is good. In other words, to get my good cholesterol higher, I’ll have to start an exercise program. I’m not going to say how much my doctor is telling me I have to exercise, but I open a rickshaw taxi service next week.

If you haven’t had a physical lately, you’re in for a treat. Have you ever been to a fish market and seen someone purchase fresh fish? Generally the fish seller slaps your purchase on paper and folds it up for you to take home. Oddly enough, that’s the exact same paper the doctor makes you sit on in your underwear until he comes into the exam room. The whole process is fishy, because you generally wait an hour before being seen.

Healthcare among other topics has been front and center in the political debate this season. I’m so glad the political ads will be over this week. Within a few short days, we can listen to our radios and televisions without someone wanting us to enter a meaningless relationship with them based on an insipid 30-second sound bite? Besides these ads have all the veracity of a kindergarten class being asked who stole the extra cookie?

This year it seems I’ve reached my saturation point. I don’t want a Republican or a Democrat on the ballot; I don’t want policy debates on school lunches. I just want common sense on the ballot! My doctor is telling me this particular year has been tough on me. He says I am suffering from (CFS) Campaign Fatigue Syndrome. The effects of this condition include; confusion, depression, anxiety, loss of speech, and angry outbursts (most notably when watching news shows).

Is there a cure for this condition? I’d say a nice tea party, but wouldn’t that just start the whole syndrome over again?

 

 

 

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50 is the New 50


Now that I’ve gotten another year older, I can’t help but reflect on the past 53 years since my birth. My how times have changed! I miss not having to count calories, I miss being handsome, and I really miss not getting up in the morning and walking to the kitchen without sounding like I was taking a stroll on packing peanuts. I also miss my mother’s cooking.

When our beloved dog Goldie was approaching her sunset years, she still loved the thrill of the chase; in this case it was squirrels. But due to her advanced age, rather then chase the tree rats a mile, she chose to run just 50 yards and she would quickly return to the front porch. She was content with her memories knowing she used to be the best. No matter the species, the more aged we become it is typical to want to lay down, sit on the front porch and remember the “good old days.”

Some mornings I don’t even recognize myself in the mirror. I can’t say I was ever thin, but then again my navel never looked liked it needed a tattoo that reads, “Inflate to 35 psi” either. My once thick head of red hair resembles the first snow of winter; white, sparse, with accompanying bare patches. I chuckle at a magazine article recently that touted, “Red hair never turns gray”, as if white is any better? I see magazines that proclaim “50 is the new 40 or 40 is the new 30”, but I’m not buying it. My 50 is the new 50 and I’m learning as I go.

Now that I’m older I’ve learned I find true contentment for me in the flames of a campfire, the arms of my wife, and in the heart of God. I’ve learned that a car with air conditioning always beats one without heat. I can always put clothes on, but I can’t drive without them. A bowl of cereal will forever trump a gourmet meal if it means I can stay home. And lastly I’m not saying I’m old, but if you still feel bad that you missed sending me a gift, I’m still registered with Crate & Casket.

 

 

 

 

 

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Aargh, Not Another Catalog!


Having the name John Baker seems like it should be rather simple for people to get it right. I despise standing in a crowded room (usually at a doctors office) and having a receptionist yell out, Don Baxter, Ron Becker, or even worse.

Advertisers are no better than the receptionists as they too seem to be notorious for working with skewed data. Some time ago I served an Appalachian hospital as a dietary director. The first few years all correspondence addressed to me stated, John A. Baker, Dietary. However like the characters in the movie ‘Multiplicity’, the more the information was shared, the worse my name got butchered. By the third year I was receiving mail addressed to John A Baker, Dictary. Just before I departed that job, I was actually getting mail addressed to Joan B. Dictary. Even now as an inside joke my wife calls me Joan.

Today it appears all marketing firms conduct business from the same play book. Don’t any of these firms research their target recipient? Anybody who knows me can bet that I am not a candidate who likes heights. In fact I hate them so much, I married a woman who is only five feet tall. If my mailbox gets a flyer for a hot air balloon ride, zip-line adventure, or bungee jumping event, you can be sure the brochure will find itself lining the first gerbil cage I can find.

I learned the hard way, don’t buy your wife a gift of hand lotion or perfume from a store that also sells woman’s intimates; the store will mess up your information then share their skewed data. The store must have sold my name to other catalog companies because within weeks, I was inundated and scratching my head. Some of these catalogs were as misguided as a Ham of the Month Club being sent to the Goldstein Family. The new catalogs reminded me of going into a computer store and being overwhelmed with all the gadgets, jargon, and accessories. I’m a simple man and I want to keep it that way.  If the catalog model on the product cover looks like Cat Woman and the Orkin Man had a child, I’d recommend staying away from it.

I’m not interested in political t-shirts unless they come bullet proof, I certainty don’t need a Tractor and Farm Supply catalog since I don’t own a ranch and my wife hasn’t doubled her weight since we got married. And last but not least I really don’t need AARP, a Whisper 2000 hearing aid or a “Granny Launcher” (the electric arm chair that pops up in your living room).

Wouldn’t you want to receive a catalog on how to purchase a gadget that remotely shuts off blaring car radios next to you at the stoplight? Or a catalog that sells lie detectors that you can point at someone and know if they are trying to pull one over on you? Now that’s the kind of stuff I’d like to buy. I did receive two items on the same day this week that did offer me hope. It seemed very logical. I received a Victoria Secret catalog with a flyer for Globe Life Insurance. Now this makes sense! At the age of 53 if I dared open the first one, I’d most likely need the latter.

 

 

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