Saving the world one language at a time

This post is going to be a little unusual, a little more serious.  Recently, a friend moved to Germany, I am not sure why, but she was living in Scotland, originally from the American South, and somehow she ended up, by choice, in Germany.  People can be so unpredictable.   But, that is not what this is about, anyway.  What this is about is hope, possibilities, and a chance for the future.

While still a child I remember reading, with horror, the eye witness accounts of the genocide in Cambodia.  Today, we are inundated with reporting of the brutality of African warlords and their child armies.  And, I have been taught enough history to know that this is not abnormal.  Pick almost any era and there was more than enough savagery to go around.  It was business as usual, the march of progress, those who could, did, without reservation, to those powerless to stop them.  It seems that humankind is hell bent on self immolation, and all that is lacking is the means, and that is not really lacking, it is only limited, temporarily to the biggest of the the lunatics in charge of the asylum.  Doctor Tarr and Professor Fether* with nuclear weaponry.

What does this have to do with an American\Scottish expatriate living in Germany?   Probably not too much, but, maybe it should.

She talks often about going places with her "friends."  When asked where she had made all of these friends in such a short time.  she explained that mostly, they are from a German class she is taking.  Her friends come from all over the world.  And they get along famously, having fun, sharing, enjoying each other.  They have barbecues, and go to festivals, and since they are in Germany sometimes they have beer and bratwurst together.

Here is a group of individuals, from different parts of the world, whose only connection seems to be wanting to learn German, and, live in Germany (none of them probably moved there just to learn German).  Somehow, they have formed the bonds of friendships, bonds of community and mutual respect.  And, they seem to have fun together, and though they drift in and out of each others lives they are replaced by fresh, new faces, and still remembered fondly, and that seems amazing.

If it is possible for this microcosm of society to pull off such a feat of friendship why can't the larger world, and those entrusted with its care?  Why do we have to spend so much time thinking about, and emphasizing our differences?  Why can't we all "try to learn German together"?

Would that be too much to ask of the people in charge, "the suits running the store"?  It has benefited my friend, and her friends, wouldn't we all benefit from something like that?  I know, it is silly to try to change the world, a single person can accomplish nothing.  But, what if we start a movement, the "Life Explained Learning German Movement."

Maybe that is where we should start, maybe language is the key.  If we all try to learn together we can come to understand that there is not that much separating us.   Maybe I'm a dreamer, a hopeless idealist, but we should try to think up something, (I'm open to suggestions) as the man said "we can all sink, or we can all float, because we're all in the same big boat."**

*"The System of Doctor Tarr and Professor Fether."  Edgar Allen Poe
** "One World."  Written by Sting.

Combat Shopping

This was a big weekend, my wife agreed to let me go grocery shopping with her, something she won't often do.  Grocery shopping is an adventure, an action packed thrill ride with just enough danger to keep it interesting.  But, very few people suffer serious injury.

In our neighborhood three large grocery chains have stores within two blocks of each other, if it weren't for all of the other buildings in between you could actually see one from the other two, that is how close they are.  So, when the sales are right, and they coupons plentiful my wife will shop at all three.

We had just entered the last store, things had been pretty quiet, not much going on, a little disappointing, really.  Right away this store had potential, though, just looking at the shoppers offered some hope.

Entering right ahead of us was a man dressed for competition.  He was wearing expensive cross training shoes, with branded, ankle high socks, Tommie Compression sleeves on his knees, Adidas ClimaLite running shorts (designed specifically to wick away moisture, keeping an athlete cool, dry and performing at his best) and a matching shirt, all topped off by a "protective skull wrap with tie."  It was easy to tell he meant business by the way his sunglasses were perched, right above his brow, ready to drop, at a moments notice, when he stepped from the shaded arena of shopping into the sunlight of adoring fans.  He was a shopping machine, who stopped to bag some fresh mangoes as we passed.

Strawberries were on sale, my wife and I stopped.  While she picked the appropriate plastic container full, a tornado of Lycra Spandex pushing a shopping cart went whizzing past.  This was no ordinary woman, this was a serious athlete, and shopper, a woman who blurred the lines between exercising and getting groceries.  She took her training, competing and shopping seriously.  She wore clothes that were fashionable, fitted and aerodynamically sound.  There would be no excess drag as she tore through the grocery store grabbing high protein, low calorie food guaranteed to improve performance.  Her list must have started with kale, because she was looking through the bin, trying to find the healthiest kale in the display.

Across from the produce in this store is the organic food section, and as we were heading past the organic, healthy food toward the snack crackers, and potato chip aisle, my wife said "dangit, I forgot my coupons, wait here while I go to the car and grab them."

Sure, easy enough, it seemed safe.  I stood by the cart and started checking things out.

I noticed the "signage" indicating the good "saleage" in the surrounding area, one sign read "Super Stupendous, All Natural, Organic Wonder Juice only $1.49."  I couldn't help notice there was only 1 bottle left, and that both the Lycra clad wonder woman shopper and the performance minded competition shopper were both heading toward the last bottle.  Soon, they noticed this as well.

The race was on.  Whizzing past the melons, and tearing by the radishes, they arrived at the same time, the woman actually grabbed the bottle first, and the man punched her in the nose.  She went reeling as her eyes welled with tears.  But, she kept her wits long enough to drop low, turn and sweep kick both legs from her competitor.  Who landed flat on his back with a thud that could be heard all of the way over to the greeting cards, on sale 25% off, with a $25.00 purchase.

Not to be outdone, and sensing that this bottle of wonderful, delightful ambrosia was hanging in the balance the man jumped up and started circling to his left, deftly sidestepping the display of organic, gluten free, salt less crackers, now only $3.49, limit one per customer.

A voice came over the PA, saying "valued Supersaver Supermart customers, don't forget to stock up on chips for Labor Day weekend, most major brands on sale for $3.49 a bag in aisle 12, and head over to organic foods to see the fist fight."

Soon, people were crowding around, watching these two serious shoppers battle it out for the last bottle of Wonder Juice.  A vendor was selling hot dogs, falafel and store brand soda pop.

Sensing a crowd was gathering the man decided to put on a display of power, and moved in close and delivered a couple of savage blows to the mid section of the woman, who wisely grabbed the man and forced the deli counter person to come out, remove his apron and break the clinch.  But, that was all the time she needed to regroup.

After the break the man, thinking their was some weakness, and hoping he could finish the fight if he forced the action from moved in.  Maybe a little rashly and dropped his guard long enough for the woman to deliver a devastating roundhouse kick to the mans head.  He staggered backward.

As a last resort, he grabbed a bottle of all natural, sugar free, free range apple sauce (only $4.99 with a shoppers club card) and hurled it at the woman's head.  She managed to slip sideways so it was only a glancing blow, but it was enough to stagger her slightly, and she was not about to lose the last bottle of Wonder Juice to a cheap maneuver like that.  Thinking quickly, she scooped up a handful of All Natural, Gluten Free, Salt Free, reduced calorie Corn Tortilla Chips from a display bowl next to a small sample dish of Organic, All Natural Black Bean, Corn, Pineapple Salsa, (Buy One Get One Free, while supplies last) crushing them with her hand into a powder she tossed this fine, salt free substance into her opponents eyes.

He stumbled, temporarily blinded, and fell right into the woman's legs knocking her into a Bologna and Processed cheese display that had been left behind by a careless employee who had to hurry off for a quick cigarette break.

The bottle of juice flew high in the air and fell to the floor shattering with a sound that sounded to all those watching like a breaking heart.

Our noble competitors helped each other up, dusted each other off and went into the deli to celebrate with a pizza and a beer.

My wife came back, saw an employee mopping up the spilled juice and asked what I had done.  I tried to tell her what happened, and she sighed, rolled her eyes, looking to the Heavens for strength, and said "I can't take you anywhere."

I promised her I would behave, and said, "hey, maybe we should buy some beer."  She said OK, and off we went.  I can't wait for next week, a three day weekend always brings out the best in competitors.

Great new ideas for greeting cards.

Life changes rapidly, technology, advances in medical care, every day there is some new breakthrough that threatens to make everything just a little different.  Nothing is static, and while new developments can be exciting and life altering somebody needs to take into account how it affects our lives, and the way we interact with each other.  Who better than Life Explained?

People are living longer, having more birthdays, this makes each a little less special.  Maybe we should really just celebrate the odd numbered birthdays, at least after puberty.  They will mean so much more that way.  Here is a little anecdotal proof.   Recently,at the top secret Life Explained warehouse we recently celebrated the birth day of a long time staffer, who had reached the ripe old age of 56.  Gathering in the kitchen, slicing the cake, and belting out a rousing chorus of "Happy Birthday" we handed the associate the card we had all so thoughtfully signed, (many quite wittily, "Wow, you are old as he!!, how did that happen?") and asked, "any comments, Bob?"  It was Bob's birthday, after all.

He replied, "Kiss my ass," then burped, and went back to work, throwing the unopened card and his piece of cake on the floor.  This probably could have been avoided had we waited until the 57th birthday to celebrate.

But, that does not mean there are no celebrations!  It is just time to reevaluate what the party is about.

After a certain age there are so many opportunities to "pop a cork" if you will, and we here at Life Explained are certainly hoping Hallmark is paying attention.

Imagine Bob's, the 56 year old birthday party pooper, surprise when he comes to work and finds a dozen donuts, a mariachi band, and all of his coworkers standing in the parking lot holding a large banner proudly proclaiming;

Don't worry, if you missed it we will play the video in the break room all day long.

But, that is not all.  Lowered serum cholesterol levels should be a cause for ice cream cake and whole milk!  Biopsy comes back negative, time for a party.  Lose a few pounds, lets have bagels.  

The possibilities are endless.  Man, we at Life Explained love technology, and the way it has improved our lives.

Buyer Beware.

Last night was the dreaded open house at my son's high school.  Loyal readers and close friends understand the uncomfortable relationship I have had with teachers over the years.  To clarify, it was only uncomfortable during those, few fortunate times it wasn't painful, or terrifying, or both.  Teachers are not to be blamed for their condition, they have been stuck in rooms with children for hours at a time, for years on end, and that would send anybody to the brink, and into the abyss.  So, it is always with a healthy sense of pity, along with a heaping dose of white knuckled fear that I approach these meetings.

There was a refreshing change in tactics last night, though.  Instead of starting with the "demands, and punishments" of the year, these teachers tried the "catch more flies with sugar" approach.  They all talked about how much they "loved having our kids in their class," and how much they "were looking forward to the year."

His English teacher, pardon me, his "Language Arts" (why is English "Language Arts" and French and Spanish a "Foreign Language Requirement"?  Are they so much less artistic?) teacher even went so far as to say she would let the kids edit their completed essays based on her remarks and suggestions, and receive the final grade on their edited copy.  What is this madness?!

And pretty much the whole evening went that way, teachers being nice, talking about "helping students," "always being available," caring, sharing, giving.  What is this, "Sound of Music High School"?

I actually felt pretty good, until we left, and there was time for the cold realization that these were teachers, honing their skills, getting sharper, harder, while I was getting softer, and rounder, and I was falling into their trap.  There was a first grade flashback, an ambushing Nun, and a razor sharp yardstick cutting a desk in half, something to do with a multiplication table, and an ink pen.  And the time in third grade, when the title of an essay paper used improper capitalization, and the whole class had to stay after, for three days.  My parents were so upset, that they could barely explain how they got so tanned, and why the suitcases were packed.

Next summer, I will train, I will watch more political round table shows, and talk to automobile salesman, and I will be ready for any subterfuge.

Coffee again, but this time it is on ice.

Recently, I have developed a taste for iced coffee.  Delicious, sugary, creamy iced coffee.  It took a while to get the correct blend, but it is almost perfect now.  Where I work they keep the creamer in a sugar dispenser, and that is not conducive to great iced coffee, it comes out too slowly, and it is difficult to gauge, and in iced coffee precision is everything.  A pinch of this, a touch of that, a dash of the other, that may work for great vichyssoise but it has no place in iced coffee science.  You need a spoonful, and the best way to get that is right from the container.

So, being the take no prisoner type, I dove right in and grabbed the plastic can looking thing (I am not sure what it should be called, it is not quite big enough to be a bucket, but, somehow it seems wrong to call something plastic a can, and it is not shaped correctly to be a bottle, why is life so hard?) and a spoon, and went about the business of iced coffee production.

I drank part of this before I thought a picture might be
a good idea, but there is ice and coffee, so you can tell
I know from whence I speak.

That was a mistake.  Right there on the label, in big, bold letters, "Non Dairy," "Gluten Free," "Lactose Free."  What is this stuff.  They are so happy telling me what it isn't, Dairy, and what it doesn't have Gluten and Lactose, why are they are not so keen to let me in on what it is.

Maybe it is ground up gypsum board.  It didn't say anything anywhere about being "Plaster Free."  Which to my thinking is a little more important than a bit of dairy, gluten or lactose.  It might be the stuff you use to make concrete, because it said nothing about being "Lime Free."

Well, iced coffee is still pretty good, and if you can look past the potentially lethal side effects of the white, powdery stuff it is a great way to start your work day.  But, when I order one at a restaurant I am going to ask for extra lactose and gluten, and reduced plaster, just to be safe.

A Monday to remember, remember the weekend that is.

Weekends are for celebration, and Monday is the time to either regret, remember fondly, or justify.  I am not sure what this will be, maybe we can decide together.  This weekend we went with our friend, and numbers guru, Susan to a celebration/fundraiser at a local Catholic Church.  It was an amazing scene, something from science fiction, almost.  From blocks away the raucous, joyful congregation could be heard, and after clearing the tree cover the light was unmistakable, and looked almost alien, and eerie, in the middle of such a well manicured neighborhood.  But, there it was, calling our name.  My wife and I love a noisy, garish, neon filled, crowded walkway.  It is an overpowering, irresistible temptation.  So we jumped right in.


There were people everywhere, and the noise was fantastic.  We were in our element, and we were having fun.  A huge, rubber duck kept eye over the whole scene and was almost too good to be true, Then, like a sirens song, sweet, tempting and magnetic, we saw the sign.  A casino, The Lord does work in mysterious ways.  We walked in, cold beer in hand, bought some chips, and the next thing you know Charlie Daniel's was singing "Trudy" as my own private soundtrack.  "Had a powerful thirst and six months pay... poured down a bottle and a half of redeye, dropped thirty five dollars in the slot machine, the boys in the back was a dealin' seven card, sat down and won me a hundred and ten."  This was back when he used to sing about drinking and gambling, and fun stuff, before he started singing about faith and duty, and obligation, and other stuff, not so fun.  Charlie, and I had come this far, it was time to gamble.

Susan sat down at the Black Jack table.  Black Jack is a brutal game of statistic probability, with well defined guidelines and procedures, almost like a computer routine, "If this... then that."  A game perfectly suited to a person with a keen grasp of numbers, a memory of frightening accuracy, and the discipline and ability to think logically, and reasonably.  Someone like Susan.  Me, I am an instinct gambler, playing to gut feelings, living by my wits, using the primal, ancient, sense of the universe that kept our ancestors alive in times of great peril, before they even knew what math was.  But, I grabbed twenty dollars worth of chips and took the open seat to Susan's left.

Soon, it was obvious Susan might be on to something.  Again, to paraphrase the inestimable Charlie Daniels, "Susan was raking in chips like Grant took Richmond."  While my pile was getting smaller and more pitiable.  But, Susan was there with a kind voice, and friendly advice.

I had 17 and the dealer was showing a 6.  She said, gently and politely, that it would be the smart move to stay, and not take a card.  But, my spidey senses were tingling, the ancient sense of self preservation was telling me the next card was a 4, generations of survival of the fittest was sure the next card was a 4.  Should I listen to Susan or thousands of years of hard won intuition, science or survival?  The answer was obvious.  Hit me, I almost screamed.  I was going to take a stand, and show the whole table how to use your senses, and free yourself from the chains of mathematics, I would not be reducing myself to a tick in a box on a questionnaire, this was going to be a victory for the individual., that society, and math teachers are so busy trying to suffocate.

Come on Mr. Dealer Man, show the world my 4, add my cards up to 21 and shower me with riches.  He turned the card over, tossing it on my pile  SIX, aaaargh, dammit, how did this happen???  I went over and the dealer drew a 4 for twenty, Susan had 21 so he took my chips and moved them to her pile.  And she said, kindly, "see, if you would not have taken that card the dealer would had 22 and you would have won."

And, briefly, I saw myself, confronting the dealer, as the next line from "Trudy" says so eloquently, "I accused him of cheatin' he reached for a pistol, I grabbed a chair and went upside of his head.  Then I took off runnin' like a motorcycle, heard the bullets whine and the sirens wail."  But, he seemed like such a nice, little old man, and he actually gave me a chip when I was down on my luck, before my wife rescued me with another twenties worth. And it was not his fault I lost, it was years of evolution, and the complacency of modern conveniences had dulled my senses, or maybe my ancestors were all having a good laugh at my expense.  I will have to research this a bit further before I know who to blame.

After a few more hands, she won, I don't remember how I did, we cashed out and went to check out the "Instagram" sensation but were too late.  Which is a little sad, it is not often you get to see an Instagram sensation in person.  And it would have been kind of cool, because I don't even know how a person might achieve such lofty status.

Later, one of our party of partiers bought some carnival ride tickets and went on a harrowing, terrifying, death defying ride, that will be covered in another post, as soon as the trauma subsides.

 It made a perfect teaching opportunity when we got home, when my sons asked how I did, my wife told them she thought I had lost, a little, and said, "that is why they call it gambling, unless it is your dad, then they call it donating."

We had a blast, I think this should go in the fond memories file, what do you think?

Wealth, power, riches, classic rock, and country music, and beer.

Opportunity used to knock, but now it will text, or email, instant message or put something on Facebook (it will only fax to people with who can send/receive from their computers, opportunity is kind of a technology snot).  Fortunately, I am a very tech savvy person, with an iPhone, an iPad, and a blog, so I was available when opportunity posted.

It came from a friend, who told me about a celebration, fund raiser,  celebration being held at a local church.  There will be a few beers, a band (classic rock/country) and Black Jack.   A card game that normally ends when you have given the dealer all of your money, unless you have a plan.

My friend, the inviter is a genius!  A MENSA member, with an advanced degree in accounting, an appreciation for a good plan, and a very good relationship with numbers.  So, all I need to do is get her to explain "counting cards" to me on our way to the church.  How hard can it be, there are only 52 cards in a deck, right?  Plus, it really wouldn't do any good to start "counting" until after a couple of hands, it doesn't take a mathematician to figure that out.  At that point it has to be more like subtracting than counting, and I was pretty good at subtracting in school.  It may have been my best math operation, certainly better than division, I am still trying to figure that one out.  Any way, I could make some serious moolah tomorrow at the church. 

I will have my wife keep her eyes peeled for "security."  I won't clean out the fund, it is a church, after all.  And, of course, a generous donation will be made to the Susan Retirement Fund, a charity my whole family supports.   After watching the documentary "21" it seems pretty easy.

Life is like a cup of coffee.

Some mornings, life and coffee just kind of stare flatly at you.  But, you have to dust yourself off, get yourself up and move on.  Sure, it seems pointless, and life seems to lack depth.  But, the show never ends and someone has to carry the load.   And you lace up your boots, and you trudge on, thinking "I can handle this, all I need is determination, and a little coffee."

Other days things are a little sunnier and life is more like an old friend, climbing from the stupor, a wry grin on it's face, saying "good morning, boy that was some day yesterday.  But, we are going to tackle all the challenges we face, and we will prevail.  Let's finish our Joe and take care of some business."  You enjoy days like this, they provide a chance to shine, and show the world your mettle, the fabric from which you are cut.  Bring on the day, you are ready.  You walk out whistling "Running Down a Dream." Tom Petty was a genius.

Of course, there are the good mornings, the mornings that give sustenance to the soul and refreshment to the mind, the mornings where life is giving you the green light to have a good time.  Life is saying to you, "hey, big boy, let's boogie."  You might even call in and take the day off.  "Heck, I just feel too good to work," you say to life, and to coffee.  "You look too good to work," coffee says back, together you hop in the car, open the sun roof and gas the stereo, "The Boys are Back in Town," by the Busboys, play it again, Siri!

.

Then there are the days where life is going to destroy your home, devour your loved ones, lay waste to your city, and bring the world to a screeching halt, famine, pestilence, disease and despair, everywhere.  And on those days you think, "God, I hate Monday, and I really should cut back on my caffeine."

The Newest Thing in Transportation.

News, fast, furious, and non-stop that is the number 1 responsibility of the internet.  Finding out what is happening, why it is happening, and to whom it is happening, why else would you spend time screwing around in front of a computer, when you could be reading a book, cleaning the basement, or garage, washing the car, or eating pizza and watching TV.  But, the unquenchable desire to understand, to learn, to gather information in an effort to amass more knowledge than your neighbor, thereby affirming who is actually better, that is what keeps you glued to your monitor, or screen, or whatever you are glued to.  That is why, when Life Explained heard rumors of an exciting new technology developing in the field of transportation we had to break the news.

It seems in Germany, long known as a country that will get things done, they have developed an exciting new form of transportation.  A vehicle that requires no fossil fuel, no electrical recharge, no cells, batteries, engine of any kind.  In fact, it seems to be completely carbon neutral.  We had to find out more, so we sent our ace German reporter to test the abilities of this new device. 

Apparently, this is powered by a person, who, even though seated, uses a motion similar to walking.  For those who don't remember walking is what you do when nobody else is around to get your Cheese Doodles and beer.  Somehow, through an amazing feat of that magical German engineering, this motion is transferred to the wheels.  It seems there is a chain and some foot "pedals" involved.  According to our sources (not too mention that guy in the white coat that keeps going on and on about our blood pressure, weight and cholesterol level, I think his name is Doctor) this movement is supposed to be healthy, as well.  

Meet the new "car."

But, as with all new technology, there are some bugs to work out, here is our reporters initial filing.

"I went for a 'bike ride,' which was sort of scary at first, but little by little I got more comfortable. I was riding on 'bike' paths, but the problem is people also walk in the 'bike' paths, so you have to get good at dodging them. It always makes me nervous and my 'bike' gets a bit wobbly as a result."

If you need to travel a great distance this method would not make much sense, but, and here, according to our reporter, is another bit of German ingenuity, you ride the "bike" to a "station" where a big car, a really big car (called either a bus, or a train, we are not sure, there is some confusion in the report, and we are working to clarify), which holds a lot of people will take you and your bike, to a spot much closer to your destination, and your "bike" will do the rest.  Amazing, huh?

Anyway, it seems this new technology will improve health, reduce greenhouse gases, and dependency on fossil fuels, as well as traffic jams, and the hypertension those cause.  It cost so little there is no need to borrow, and make payments.  Maintenance is fairly simple, and can be done in apartment.  Who wouldn't be in favor of something with such promise and potential, something that makes so much sense.  Besides oil and pharmaceutical companies and car manufacturers, but they probably don't have much say in American politics.

We apologize for any inconvenience.

Jungle Jim's a grocery destination.

Recently we were lucky enough to find ourselves in Cincinnati, a wonderful city, built in the hills right beside the Ohio river in southwestern Ohio.  It is a bustling, beautiful place with many great attractions, including the Reds and the Bengals, right across the river is the Newport Aquarium, a wonderful zoological park, and not to be missed.   But, when you are in Cincinnati you have to visit Jungle Jim's Food Supermarket.

In a world of mass marketeers, warehouse clubs, and huge
homogeneous chains of identical buildings filled with shelves that were all pulled from the same marketing formulas, (reducing shoppers to an integer in an equation with a predictable outcome) Jungle Jim's market is breath of fresh, wild, untamed, well stocked air.  Complete with a State Liquor Store, ah what could be better?




This is clearly a place with some serious grocery MOJO.  It has a pair of gorillas holding a sign that says it all "FOODIE ENTRANCE."  And inside there is a dizzying variety of ethnic foods.  You can buy 50 pound bags of rice, and gallon jugs of Tabasco sauce, rubs, marinades cooking supplies, and enough soft drinks and not so soft drinks wash it all down, whatever your taste.




You get an idea that the shopping experience is going to be a little unusual when you first walk in (if you are at the "new" location, if you end up at the original you need to walk a little) and see the restroom.  They have the appearance of a Porta-Potty.  No matter how you potty, that is kind of cool.  And, if you don't believe that check out the sign (one of two) detailing where the bathrooms have been discussed on TV.  They have actually won "America's Best Restroom," and most people didn't even know that anybody rated those things.  Having been to Wall Drug, another famous store, let me tell you, these bathrooms are better.

Of course, the coolness does not end when you exit the restroom.  There is a travel camper on a platform above a display of snack crackers.  Which, in itself is kind of cool, but, that is only the beginning, the camper is adorned with flowery 60's style artwork, and looking out the windows on one side are pictures of Bob Dylan, and, Joan Baez, looking out the lonely window on the other side is the image of John Lennon.




 Looking out the back window are Richard and Pat Nixon.  Sadly, I did not get a picture of that, probably to placate my deceased, beloved Mother, who watched the Watergate Hearings with the fierce intensity of the truly, politically agitated.  This one's (more accurately, the lack of this one is) for you Mom!

Of course, there is a fire truck at the entrance to the Hot Sauce department, which is huge, and well stocked.  And a boat at the entrance to the seafood department.  Which is large and smells a lot like fish.  So, we got out of there pretty quickly.

A pretend tomb of somebody
who had something to do with
wine.  And, it talked!

And there is a variety of beer and wine, so large it would be almost impossible to choose`.  As we were looking at a display of something, the product escapes me, several burly, rough looking young men walked past, they were wearing shirts with football and baseball related insignia, and were talking, in loud, unabashed voices, cursing, and acting very macho, as young men might.  They seemed naturals for the liquor store, or beer display but they headed right for the imported wines and began speaking in hushed tones about the differences between French, German, and Italian wines.  It was so tempting to wait and see if they decided on the Pinot Noir from the Rhein Valley, the Chablis from Bourgogne or the Cabernet Sauvingon from Bardolino.  But, when they started into what fruit and cheese would go best with each I knew they were in for a long, trying debate, and I am too old for something so heated.

But, our trip was over and we had to return home, with some beer, a few pastries, a can of tomato's (my wife has an addiction) and some fond memories.  Thank you, Jungle Jim's, it was a gas, and we will be back.

Apple, Apple, everywhere,

Today we are celebrating.  Our good friend has joined the happy ranks of iPhone owners.  That's right, Shirley from "upstairs" has taken the sleeping pill of modernity and is now free to experience the technological nightmare of the 21st century.  Just kidding, we here at Life Explained think our iPhone is great, and we are so happy Shirley has joined our club.

Of course, introductions are not necessary, everybody remembers Shirley from http://tim-thingsastheyare.blogspot.com/2013/06/behind-scenes-and-people.html.  A true classic of investigative journalism, along the lines of Woodward and Best..., Berst..., the Watergate people.  If you were absent that day we will reproduce Shirley's part of the post.

If you were very short, and, stood on top of Shirley's head, while she was working, and, if you turned around and looked behind Shirley, this is what you would see.  As you can see Shirley used to need a lot of office supplies.  Things have changed, dramatically, since she joined the iPhone revolution.  Her life is a streamlined, bustling train ride to efficiency and she has assumed the role of conductor, and you better have a ticket.

Now, Shirley spits in the eye of the old fashioned, notepads are just coasters to her.  She scoffs at post it notes, and not just the freebies given by companies desperate for a little business.  She won't even use the "store bought" real Post It Notes, (a registered trademark of 3M).  Shirley is constantly taking notes, snapping pictures, sending emails, calling suppliers, vendors, customers.   She has become a machine, tackling assignments, always on the run from coffee, to iced tea, to straight bourbon, iPhone firmly in hand.


 At first she was so cute, "look at these kitty pictures my Grand Daughter just texted me."  Now, she is complaining about the relative speed of various wifi hotspots and the need for more 3G LTE because her twitter feed is sluggish, and Facebook is "slow as spit."

We were all a little shocked when she got a new tattoo that said "If you can't take the heat stay off of the World Wide Web, Wimp!"  Funny how technology has shaped our world, isn't it?

So, if you are going for a casual cruise down the information super highway and somebody flies past, you cursing your slowness, in a spiffy new iPhone, don't be offended, and say hello, it is probably our friend, Shirley.

Our government,cooperating, isn't it cute?

Recently the Department of Homeland Security, along with the Department of State, and several intelligence agencies have voiced concern over an increased potential for "terrorist activity."  Increased "chatter" and "heightened activity levels" among several suspect groups, indicate the likelihood of a planned attack.  This has led to a surprising amount of cooperation inside the confines of the nations security organizations.

Chiefly, the NSA and the TSA have developed a strategy for sharing key information.  "Two agencies, hell bent on stopping terror before it starts, it just makes sense."  One staffer who spoke on the condition of anonymity said.

"It is so nice to be able to put a gauzy, almost discernible body with the voice."  Said Special Agent Taft Boykin of the NSA.  "We spend so much time listening to these conversations, and you try to imagine the general body shape, and condition, sometimes you are close, but sometimes it surprises you."

Benefits were almost immediate, too.  In a startling turn of events, Mike Slotking, of Pender Springs, IL, was talking on the phone to his barber about the possibility of sponsoring a basketball team for the upcoming season when a third voice came on the line.

"Mike, this is Private Contractor Geoff Smithson of the NSA, and I was looking over the scan from your last flight, and that mole on the underside of your left arm, right above the elbow is a little troubling.  You might want to have that looked at.  Also, if I were you, I would try to get that new kid from "Adell's Bakery, you know, the kid at the counter, the one who is always emailing his Dad about donut prices, well I guess you wouldn't know that.  But, get that kid to play point guard, he can shoot, pass, dribble with either hand, and is looking for a team.  Plus, John Calipari is calling several boosters to offer him fat money."

It turns out the mole was just a mole, but the kid could really play.  Mike's team won the championship after an undefeated season, his barber has a shiny new trophy for the mantle and the kid is making fat money as an amateur athlete.

As a nation we should demand more cooperation between government agencies.  There are so many potential benefits.

Goodbye, old friends,

Today is kind of bittersweet, a little good, a little bad, a little heaven a little hell, I think you probably get the idea.  Today we are saying goodbye to an old friend (make that two old friends) here at our top secret warehouse.

Yes, today Bil (you all remember iPhone Bil don't you?) decided it was time to get some new shoes.  It is sad because Bil has had these shoes for as long as anyone can remember.  And not just anyone around the ol' top secret warehouse, either.  Nobody anywhere can remember a time before Bil had these shoes.  

Recently, they uncovered ancient runes, carved in the stone walls of a cave in Spain, from a time when man was first learning to use basic tools to carve pointless opinions in the living stone of the caves they called home, long before you could buy cans of spray paint to express yourself on the sides of buildings and certainly before Facebook.  When translated it read, "Geez, Bil should get some new shoes."

Well, now he is.  Here is a little known fact about Bil, he is the father of BatMan!  Cool, huh?

Stay tuned, we will try to get pictures of Bil's new shoes.

Almost the last "I quit smoking post" I promise.

Quitting smoking has so many benefits.  It is so expensive to smoke, the savings are enormous, even if you stay "healthy."  Most people who never smoke, and people who still smoke probably don't understand the amount of time and effort it takes to smoke.  It is more than just the act of "smokin' a butt," there is a whole set of logistical challenges facing smokers.  For one thing you need cigarettes, (hardly a smoker without some of those) and something to light them with, (non smokers who only need to remember keys, wallet, watch, and a cell phone are rookies) and a decent place to enjoy the comfort of a serene smoke, which is becoming more of a challenge all the time.  So, the benefits are manifold, one unexpected bonus was the friends I made.

There are a couple who deserve special recognition.  Gale, and Susan, we were members of an online support community to help us in our efforts to quit, and we have just become friends.

In fact Susan, and Gale were my first Facebook friends, I had joined Facebook several months prior because I wanted to join this particular fan group, for my beloved KIN 2M phone, but it was filled with superior, smug people and I quickly ignored them (actually, I am still trying to decide whether Facebook is a huge waste of time or the most under utilized form of entertainment, keep an eye on Life Explained for more in the near future) so it was nice to have a friend, and all of the sudden I had two friends, of course now I am in the thirties, but, I still remember when it was only two.

Susan (who is from Columbus) has actually had beers with my wife and I on more than one occasion, and we are considering her for the exalted position of "drinking buddy," on a probationary basis of course.  Even though she is genius, MENSA member, who can do amazing things with Microsoft Excel she still enjoys a good pirate joke.  Hey, Susan, what does a pirate do on the weekend?  Yarrrrrdwork.  I don't really know if she likes pirate jokes or not, but she has a wonderful sense of humor, and  has been to a Grateful Dead concert and that is cool.

Gale (who is from North Carolina, Scotland, Germany) is a fearless on the ground reporter for this very blog, and was willing to take on the Evil Barbie Empire to get the truth to you, and save the world, too.  She tackles plastic women bent on world domination with the same gusto as German noun declension.  An enthusiastic world traveler, Gale has over 300 cities dotted on her world travel map, (a lot of them are in foreign places, filled with foreigners) and a lot of that was done through air travel, which we all know is crazy.  And she has a tattoo, which she recently had upgraded, another act of bravery.

Anyway, thank you, both.  In the words of Jerry Garcia, "what a long, strange trip it's been."  But, thanks to you it has never been dull.

There would be pictures here, but they still need to sign the consent form, and have it notarized, and air parceled to our secret location.  Not really, I am going to email them and ask for permission.