We knew that, already.

In the early parts of the 20th century a radical new theory began to sweep through the scientific community, (there were no reliable vacuums in those days, so sweeping was the best they could hope for), that offered to explain almost everything in the universe.  It was called Quantum Mechanics, or Quantum Physics.

This new approach was considered revolutionary and many Mechanics, or Physicists, felt that it would explain almost everything everywhere, all the time.  Of course, scientist are kind of radical about those things and sometimes they get a little carried away.

However, being scientists, the first thing they did was rush over to the black board and start writing complex mathematical formulas that consisted mostly of letters, a few numbers and some zeros.








Soon enough, they realized that math with letters is really hard, and may be impossible, so they started doing experiments, which every one knows is the fun part of being a scientist.

What they found was shocking, if you put a cat in a closed room with cyanide, and it takes the cyanide, but you don't see it take the cyanide, only later you open the door and see the cat has taken the cyanide, or didn't take the cyanide until after you opened the door, wait, there was something about a switch, I think...  Well that is not a very good example for lay people like you guys.

Let's move onto time, apparently Quantum Mechanics or Physics, I am not sure why they ever used mechanics, I've done a little bit of auto repair, kind of, at least I do pump my own gas, well most of the time, sometimes I loan my wife my car when it is almost empty and she has to fill it up, though she is catching on to that little trick.  Anyway, Quantum Physics states that time can be a variable, dependent on placement and situation.  As explained here.

https://medium.com/the-physics-arxiv-blog/d5d3dc850933

Obviously, quantum physicists never had to read one of their articles, because that was the longest 5 minutes of my life.  It seemed like days, and I slept through the worst parts.  And, I swear to you, when you are in a traffic jam, or a doctor's waiting room time almost stops.  And on the weekend, time is shot from a cannon, and flies away, frighteningly fast.   We don't need a rocket scientist, or a quantum physicist to explain that, do we?

Don't forget to tune in tomorrow when we cover the Evolutionary Biology and the US Houses of Congress.

Now it can be told. (Does any know the statute of limitations on free lance dentistry?)

I like to think of myself as a pretty rugged guy, tough, resilient, laugh in the face of danger, "check my pulse, it don't change, stays 72 come shine or rain,"* kind of guy.  Of course, it isn't true, panic is a constant companion, I cringe at passing cars.  Every chill, sneeze, cough, sniffle, unexplained shudder signals a new wave of paranoia.  I am sure it is a signal of doom, the start of my death spiral.  The first shot in the war between my immune system and whatever fatal, debilitating, crippling, incurable illness that has come to claim my last dance.

Trust me, I pay close attention to the warnings that come with medicine, but, just as close to the warnings on televised advertisements for medicine.  And not just the potential side affects, either, though, those are a constant source of concern (sometimes the cure seems so much worse than the disease).

Last night I was watching television at home, and the commercials came on so I went and fixed myself, and my lovely charming wife, a cold drink, and a light, healthy snack, iced soda and chili cheese fries, for those keeping track at home.  I returned just in time to catch the end of the commercial for some medicine that would prevent, or solve, or delay some problem, or disease, or injury.

"Please tell your doctor about any unplanned medical or dental procedures."  The calm, reassuring voice said, calmly and with a comforting, reassuring tone.

"What medicine was he talking about?"  I asked my lovely, gentle, charming wife.

She sighed, rolled her eyes up to the heavens for strength, and said, "I'm not sure, but it wasn't anything you are taking," she said, and sighed again and it may be my imagination, but it sounded like she may have combined an "oh, for God's sake," into her sigh.

She seemed certain that it was not any medicine prescribed to me, but I was not so sure, so I thought about it quite a bit, and thought it was better safe, that sorry.

So I called my doctor this morning, and told him a little story, that I had never told anyone.

"This is going to hurt a little."

"Hey, Doc, how ya' doing?  I was thinking you should know about something."  I began, "when I was younger, I worked construction, and we were pretty macho guys.  One night, a Friday night, we all went drinking, and skipped dinner, and got a little wild.  It was pretty late, and you know how young, macho guys get after a night of heavy drinking."

This was a little embarrassing so the words started rushing out, and overwhelming my poor Doctor.

"That's right, Doc, we were a little too drunk, feeling crazy, and things got a little out of control and we decided to perform root canal procedures on each other."  Oh man, it was such a relief to finally get that out in the open.  "I thought you should know, because of any medicine I might be taking, or you might be thinking of prescribing for me."

I heard a sigh, and then he said, "I am going to have to raise your co-pay."

*Thank You, Jerry Garcia, you will always be on my iPhone.

Another problem solved, weekend edition.

Acrimonius debate in the nation's capitol has begun to boil over, cascading westward across the nation.  A wave of rancorous, vile rhetoric is sweeping over the plains, rolling over the Rockies and washing reason, moderation, and sanity into the Pacific Ocean.

One side claims that the Affordable Care Act is too expensive, and completely unnecessary.  They contend health care is widely available, and people are happier with the existing options.  Opposing that view are claims that the law addresses a critical need, and will quickly save the country much more than it costs, by helping health care providers lower costs, avoid defaults, by providing routine, preventative care, and reducing the need to use the emergency room as primary care, and curtailing many catastrophic illnesses.

It is easy to see that this problem is too complex, too difficult, too confusing to be trusted to our elected officials.  So, we at Life Explained have come up with a simple, yet elegant solution.  One that promises to solve the health care problem and possibly the budget deficit, and potentially the stagnant job growth puzzle.

It is widely known that Canada supplies health care at greatly reduced rates, and it is right next door.  It will start modestly with buses running vacationers/patients from northern states across the border.  Once there they can have some donuts, watch some hockey, grab a beer and get their yearly physical.  

It is only a matter of time before we can charter some planes and move the operation south.  

Of course there will be some cases that are too difficult to make the long trip.  Fear not, we have thought of that.  In those cases we will provide transportation for a qualified Canadian specialist.  We can make it a big deal.  "You have won an all expenses paid trip to sunny Florida.  This trip includes three meals a day at the Sunset Village cafeteria, and free bingo tokens, enough for your whole family.  Plus, round trip airfare to wonderful Fort Myers, Florida, (Motto, Where he East Half of the US

goes to Retire).  Please bring your supplies and equipment."

As the enormous profits begin to pour in the next step is obvious, cruises.  "Please join us for a delightful cruise to the luxurious resorts of Victoria, British Columbia.  Enjoy the beauty of Galloping Goose Regional Trail, the rustic majesty of Beacon Hill Park, and stop by one of Victoria's best kept secrets, The Fishermans Wharf and enjoy a wonderful, authentic seafood meal prepared in a traditional manner, by real Canadians. Then get your gall bladder removed at one of the many fine hospitals in the area.  A perfect way to end an enchanted evening."

Of course, all of these trips, and the logistics requiried is going to require significant staffing.  Conservatively we estimate we will need half of the country in our employ.

As soon as word of this spreads to the EU and the rest of the world they will be trampling all over each other to get in line to ride our Wellness Wagons to the great north, tourism dollars will be pouring into the Canadian economy, health and prosperity will spread around the world, and we can move on to more important problems, like mail delivery on Saturday.

Now, was that so difficult?

Goals, Milestones, and Conquering Life.

I have a friend, (actually, I have several, well maybe not several, but a few, depending on how you define few, as long as you go with "at least some but indeterminately small in number," then yes, I do have a few friends.  Why do you ask?  Oh sorry, you didn't ) who recently finished a tube of Chapstick, entirely.  This seemed significant to him, and he posted it proudly on his Facebook page.

To me, this was shocking.  What an accomplishment, he didn't lose it, leave it in his pocket and wash it.  It didn't melt on the center console of his car, and drip defiantly and permanently on the carpet.  Way to go, Ryan.

What makes this so surprising is the amount of determination it would take to finish a tube of Chapstick.  It would require a bulldog like determination, zen like patience and an unfailing memory.

Every time he picked up groceries he had to stand in line for the cashier and ignore all of the shiny, new, colorful tubes of Chapstick, just calling out to him with their sirens song of smooth, "chapless" lips.  "Hey, big boy, check out my flavor, mango, strawberry banana."  With the patience of Job, he walked through the valley of temptation.  You are the man, Ryan.

Whenever the beginnings of dry, cracking, chapped lips began calling, and he could sense the impending discomfort he had to use his Sherlock Holmes like sleuthing skills and find that one, small tube of Chapstick in the vast, cluttered junkyard universe of modern life.  Ryan, the organizational behemoth.

Plus, he had to stick with the nostalgic, plain, average Chapstick, no Burt's Bees, Nivea, or Eco Lips for our intrepid hero.  As Darrell Royal used to say, "when you get to the big dance at the end of the year you dance with the one that brung you."  So, I raise my whiskey glass and give you a toast, for kickin' it old school and dancing with that Chapstick, Ryan.

Right now you are saying, "yeah, big deal, he finished a tube of Chapstick, who cares?!?!"  But, let's think for a minute.  Loyalty, determination, thriftiness, are these not the very virtues that make this country great?

Chapstick Man of the Century

So next time someone says to you, "Americans don't have the stomach to see things through to the
end.  They are soft, and not willing to finish things they start, they are unwilling to face difficult situations and unable to compete in today's global market," I want you to whip out an 8 x 10 autographed photograph of Ryan and his empty Chapstick tube, (available in the Life Explained Mega Store) and say "what about this, Mr. (or Ms.) Naysayer?  What about Ryan?"

An exasperated, frustrated nation thanks you, Ryan, you are an inspiration, and we here at Life Explained salute you.

Even We Deserve a Day Off, Occasionally.

Even though we carry the crushing burden of attempting to explain life, and all that stuff, and despite the overwhelming responsibility of keeping the world informed of venomous invasions, and all that stuff, sometimes we just need a day off.

Assistant Manager Bil (you remember Bil, from here, and, here don't you?) decided to take the day off today.  Not to have fun, or relax, mind you, but to perform routine, yet vital, dangerous, and difficult maintenance on his home.

As the old saying goes "when the assistant manager is away, Dr. Dawg will play."   And since we all deserve a "day off" even those of us who are here, fighting the good fight, and keeping our fingers on the pulse of the people, and arachnids, and arthropods, and reptiles, well, you get the idea.

So, we had a little fun at Bil's expense, and with Bil's stuff.

 Bil always has excellent taste in snacks.  We all have always admired him for that.  Our favorite bit was the yogurt covered chocolate things.  Next time, please leave a little more, we didn't have enough to share with the legal department, and now they are suing us.















Bil is forced to wear many hats here at the top secret Life Explained facility in the great unknown mountains just to the south of nowhere.  This one is our favorite, he looks very dashing, and so does Doctor Dawg.

You know, we should give Bil the day off more often, but he should keep some beer in the refrigerator, that would be great.

Anyway, if you see Bil today tell him hello, but don't tell him about the trail mix, it will just ruin his day.

Disturbing News From The UK.

In what has become a remarkably repetitive story line there is more terrible Arachnid news from Great Britain.  According to the Time Magazine Facebook page, an "invasion" of venomous spiders caused a school to close for a day.  That's right, venomous spiders are invading a school in England!

It has been coming for a long time.  We here at Life Explained warned you here, We told you  and here, Again, we told you, but people like to go through life with blinders on, hearing what they want to hear.  Not that blinders affect what you hear, but people who only see what they want to see, are not too keen on listening to bad...  Well you know what we mean.

Apparently people are not going to be happy until the entire Island Nation is overrun with the terrifying creatures.  We would look into this possibly fatal (if you only read the first two paragraphs, or extremely painful if you read the last paragraph) infestation ourselves, but we hate flying, and spiders, so flying to see spiders is probably not going to happen.  But, we will keep an eye on our Facebook feed and let you know when it is safe to come out of the refrigerator.  Spiders hate cold, you know?

Not to scale

You can see it here.  http://newsfeed.time.com/2013/10/23/hey-the-new-kid-is-kind-of-cute-wait-thats-a-venomous-spider/

Another treacherous commute, sort of.

Last night the weather people on TV predicted a "wintry mix of rain, sleet and snow" for this morning.  In this part of the country that is meteorologist crack cocaine.  You can feel the excitement build as they talk about the potential rain, mixing with the potential snow, and falling on our city.  Excitement can overcome even a seasoned television weather person, causing them to swoon, and the sports guy will have to rush over and fan them with the sports page from the local paper he was using to write his report.  But, as excited as they find the possibilities it can make my morning drive less enjoyable.

Since, a decent "wintry mix" can throw traffic into chaos the safe bet was to wake early, check the morning traffic report, and adjust my schedule accordingly.  The first thing we saw was the weather.

Al, the morning weatherperson said it was raining, and showed, with the help of a full screen radar image, a large swath of rain clouds passing over the area, with some snow showers mixed in towards the end.  Clouds producing snow stand out because of color variation, and there was a small batch of lightly colored clouds following closely on the heels of the wide, traveling amoeba looking bunch of rain clouds.  But, it was enough, and Al was thrilled.  After his breathless presentation, he passed the screen time baton to Mona the traffic reporter.

"With all of the rain we have had over the last several hours traffic is really slow, here are images from around the metropolitan area."  Four images, almost identical from the cloudy, rain drop smeared lenses, covered the screen and she described, in detail, what each camera was showing.  "There are no accidents to report, yet," you could almost sense the sorrow in her voice, and she slumped a little, "but, you know with wet, hazardous roads like this it is only a matter of time.  And I will bring it to you as soon as it happens."  She perked up a little there, and passed the all important air time to Bob, the anchorman.



"We have a camera crew and Ken, the reporter, loaded and ready to roll, as soon as there is an accident," Bob said, a little breathless, and the television screen showed Ken, the reporter, and a camera crew waiting in a van, in the rain, ready to roll.

Bob talked about the coming election, and the levees on the ballot, moving quickly to results of the online poll conducted by the station, an overnight robbery, and a local dog named Fritz who climbed a tree to rescue his friend, a cat named Hans, which was kind of cool.

"And, back to the Storm Center, and Al.  Hey, Al, how about giving this rain the boot and gettin' us some sunshine?"  He joked.

Al talked about the rain, predicting it would be out of the area sometime in the morning and the sun would appear in the afternoon, "How about that, Bob?  Now on to Mona, at the Traffic Control Console."

Mona was trying hard to keep a positive demeanor, but her voice, quavering, belied her concern.  "Nothing to report so far, but, with wet, awful roads like this it is only a matter of minutes, and we are ready to bring you the news.  Right, Ken?"

Flash to Ken, standing in the rain, beside the van, right outside the station, "that's right, Mona.  We are just waiting to bring you the film from the first accident of the day."

Mona was back on the screen, promising to bring us reports of the first accident, which, she assured was coming quickly.

Another round of news and weather and we were back to Mona, who was beginning to show signs of desperation.  She was wringing her hands, and sweat was beginning to streak her makeup.

"Look, the roads are terrible, and we are going to have an accident, soon.  Why wait?  The first person to run their car into a pole gets this $10.00 gift card to "Bill's House of Good Coffee."  If you involve another car the good people at "Terri's Style Boutique" will throw in a cut and color.  Look, we all drive the same roads, and we all know how irritating it is when some fool cuts you off, like they are more important, their time is more valuable.  Today is the chance to show them.  Ram them hard enough to require a wrecker, and "Ted's Towing" will throw in dinner for two at "The Powder House Grill."  We are going to throw open the phone lines, and take bids, if you are interested in a morning crash, but don't like the gifts you see here, call in and make a request, we will do our best to make it happen.  No reasonable offer will be refused.  What other station can make that claim?"

I was going to hold out for a new TV, but duty called, I take my job seriously.  I never heard who won the lottery, but, I am sure it was a great prize, and a grand accident, and Ken did a superb job reporting.

When things go well.

Recently things have started to improve here at the top secret Life Explained laboratory, and distribution center, located in the scenic mountains of Sworntosecrecy, right at the intersection of Canttellyou, and Needtoknow.  Success breeds extravagance, and we decided to splurge.

We bought a new vacuum, and not just any new vaccum either, it is a really nice new vacuum, though our legal department would appreciate it if we didn't mention any names, unless we get some monetary consideration.

We are just going to say it is built to last, they test this vacuum for durability by dropping over 5,000 times on a hard floor.  Which is remarkably good news since our custodial staff has been known to hit the employee lounge before their shift, and we do mean lounge.

It autoadjusts between carpet and hardwood floors, ending the need for all of that manual adjusting that used to consume such a large percentage of each shift.  Sometimes they wouldn't actually get any vacuuming done at all, just endless hours of adjusting, and then it was time to clock out and go home.

A unique steering mechanism allows our associates to turn quickly, and without wasted motion.  Which, in our business can be a real life saver.  Occasionally, we will get agents of industrial espionage breaking into our facility, and our custodians used to be sitting ducks, trying to out maneuver a trained agent while pushing an old style, two wheeled vacuum was almost impossible (of course it was much better than the old days of the dreaded, quagmire of the canister, we had more turnover with those stupid things than you would believe).

And, at 160 air watts it is more than twice as efficient as the nearest competitor, so the rest of you can eat our dust.  However, since it has a sealed HEPA filter that can track down and trap 99.97 % of particulate 0.3 micrometers or larger, it will not be necessary.

We have our eyes on a new coffee maker, so if you see anything really cool, let us know, at tweettweetjohn@yahoo.com.  Thanks.

.

Turning back the hands of time.

My sons are fine, strong, young men.  Talented, charming, tall, and exceptionally bright.  I bask in the glow of their abilities to carry on conversations, and delight in their finely tuned sense of humor, I am a little intimadated by their ability to perform complex mathematics, in fact the calculator they use in class looks as complicated as the Space Shuttle Control Panel to me.  They are everything my poor, long suffering Mother hoped I would be.  They are wonderful, intelligent, accomplished examples of how even a lackluster father can have hope for the future.

It was only recently that I have developed an obsessive interest in technology.  I have photos of everything on my phone and they update automatically to my iPad, and I love it.  Sadly, that technology was not widely available when my sons, the upstanding young adults, were babies.  Yes, we have prints, and that is nice, but how I wish there had been an iSometing with a digital camera in my trembling, loving hands when they were infants.

Hey, don't blame me, it was your Mom's idea.

But, there wasn't.  However, with the help of several new apps, recently added to my evergrowing arsenal of time wasting technology I can take a recent picture and make my sons look small, like I will always remember them.

Here is a picture of my little children standing next to an average sized shovel and broom.  This picture was taken quite recently and my wife and I just love it.  Aren't they just adorable?  So small, and cute, standing next to that door, it just looks gigantic, doesn't it?  Small children are so sweet.

I had to smudge out their faces to protect the innocent, me.  They would not find this amusing at all.  And kids can be so cruel.  No one needs that.

Life has ups and downs, doesn't it Dr. Dawg?

Hey, everybody needs a hobby.

Recently, I have downloaded several apps for my iThings.  In a way it is kind of junkie behavior, there are already enough apps on this stuff, some of them have never been used.  So, my new plan is to put them to use as productive members of the Life Explained team.

However, until you have a chance to research the best "application" for each "app" this can be a little difficult.

One of the first apps I on my original iPod was "Words with Friends," and it is still heavily used and mostly enjoyed.  This served as my inspiration.  I will use each new app to explore life, and express myself, this will provide the opportunity for the exploration of possibilities and shortcomings.

I play "Words with Friends" with a marvelous (for a teacher) person.  She seems kind, sweet, considerate, caring, and delightful (for a teacher).  Until you are foolish enough to play "Words with Friends" against her.  Then, she is vicious, ruthless, tyrannical, and pitiless (even for a teacher).  It is no longer "Words with Friends" it becomes "Words with That Woman, Whose Name We don't Mention."  My wife won't let me spit on the floor, which carries a little more emphasis than silence, but a statement is a statement. even if it the lack of a statement, right?

So, this is in honor of the person whose name we don't mention, I used three apps to make this, not counting the organic camera app on the iPhone.  I guess you aren't so bad after all.  Thanks,

Not to scale.

Commuting can be tough.

Last night I left work a little later than usual, we have been busy and things required attention.  It wasn't too late, just a little less than an hour.  It made today, (which was tomorrow then) much less intimidating, and that is good.  But, the freeway that takes me home is a wonderful feat of civil engineering at 4:00 with a smooth flow of traffic, to and from downtown.  At 5:00 it is a little different.

Normally, when I leave on time, it seems like a reunion with old friends.  We all smile and wave as we pass.  And you can actually hear the joyful, melodic whistling from the cars sharing the road, and the afternoon.  Of course, there are traffic jams occasionally at 4:00 (the enchanted hour) but they are short, and friendly.  Normally, just long enough to have a glass of wine with Bob, from the Honda Accord, (Lic. Plate M77242) and Kay from the Lexus GX 460 (Lic. Plate M99753) maybe a few crackers, a bit of cheese, and shared pictures of kids, grand kids, pets, and significant others.  There is hardly enough time to hear about the awful jerk they hired to manage Bret's (Chevy Malibu, Lic. Plate 152452BX) department.  That poor guy has had a bad year, let me tell you, sometimes we bring bourbon for him.  We have actually ordered shirts "The 4:00 PM Commute Crew, Carrying the Cabernet Since 1999."  We are all pitching in to pay for Bret's, poor guy.

At 5:00 it is a different crowd, a different world, really.  Traffic is heavier, people seem to be more aggressive, and when traffic stops it lasts a while, and when it starts things can gets hectic, and hostile.  A 5:00 commute requires nerves of steel, and a certain disregard for life, humanity, and civilization.

Yesterdays commute started well, after merging into traffic, which seemed to be moving right along, I found my way into the lane I wanted, it would exit onto the outer belt, dropping me off a few blocks from home.  Maybe this would not be so bad.

Soon, though, the traffic slowed, and shortly after that it ground to a complete stop.  Oh well, this was what happened on this road, at this time of day, no point in fussing.  Grabbing the phone I found a great song, and soon Richard Thompson and I were jamming to "Cooksferry Queen"  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tze2klRR5dA, though, Richard did most of the real rockin' I was just harmony, however, I did throw in a little incidental percussion, occasionally.

After a while, we began to move.  In the car in front of me the driver had decided to make a phone call.  I am not sure who he called, but they were obviously very close.  He was so engrossed in his call he could not go over thirty miles an hour.

Which is a big mistake in that traffic, at that time of day.  People were flying past us, I was too frightened to try to merge, I love my car, and these people were driving with an awful purpose there was no way I was trying to smash my way into that.  After a short time it took a nasty turn.

People started to slow down by the car in front of me, roll down their window, and scream at the driver.  Who was so engrossed in his phone call he didn't even notice.  Then they would speed off.  After a while, people who were stuck behind us became increasingly agitated.  Food was starting to pile up on the roof, as people threw half eaten hamburgers, and burritos at the poor, oblivious driver.


Quickly, it started to resemble a scene from "Mad Max."  A madmaxian scene, if you will.  An Audi sedan pulled up on the passenger side of the car in front of me, and the passenger, a well dressed woman climbed over the seat, and hung out the drivers side rear window, (her wedding dress billowing in the wind) and was hammering away at the top of the phone users car with her shoe.  I think it was a Christian Louboutin "Bianca" ($845.00 on sale at Barney's of New York) until the heel came off, and she threw her champagne glass at the window, which shattered, harmlessly against the tempered glass of the car window.

"This is crazy," I thought, and started to worry about the poor man in front of me.  Sirens, and flashing lights came speeding up behind me, and I thought the driver was saved.  The Sheriff's Deputy pulled up on the driver's side, honked his horn and flipped the guy off, then shut off his lights and sirens, and drove away.

A miraculous thing happened then, the man finished his phone call, and started gaining speed until he had matched traffic, and soon I was home.

"How was your day," my wife asked.

"It was a good day, but the commute was a little stressful."

Alarming News.

This just in;  It seems, due to the cut backs caused by sequestration, and the furloughs generously provided by the good folks in Washington DC (suggested motto, "Cooperation, compromise, sure as soon as I get my way") a top secret, military laboratory, somewhere in Southern California was being guarded by the hope that people were really honest, deep down inside.  Maybe, maybe not, but it is obvious that "Huge Alien Spiders" are not, as exposed in the new documentary "Big Ass  Spider" soon to be released, to a fearful nation.

This little fellow here busted out, at the first opportunity, and laid waste to Los Angeles, which has had it's share of problems ever since the Rams left for Kansas City, and the Raiders left for Oakland, even though the Raiders left Oakland to come to Los Angeles in the first place, so leaving and going to Oakland is kind of a misrepresentation of the facts, really, they were just kind of visiting, almost a probationary thing.  And who can blame them for wanting to go, considering the the enormous alien spider keeping, top secret, military laboratories in the area.  Not exactly a source of civic pride.





Then, there is the awful Los Angeles traffic, which is not improved by the addition of a gargantuan Spider.  We don't know the traffic laws that prevailed on the spider's home world, but it is obvious he is not the most courteous commuter.  Smashing cars, and knocking over buildings clearly contributes to gridlock.  According to Art Shell, who coached the Raiders for most of their time in Los Angeles, "man driving through that town and avoiding a Giant Alien Spider would just be awful.  I'm glad we left when we did.  Darn government shutdown anyway.  Of course, if it ate a few of those skateboarders, that wouldn't be so bad, they were everywhere."

Week three of the shutdown, and it is easy to see the geometric progression of the problems, elected officials pointing fingers and talking endlessly on television, pundits explaining who is "impacted" by the shut down, interviews, endless commentary, decreased services for the electorate, and giant spiders ravaging metropolitan areas.  A congressional insider who requested anonymity told Life Explained "these kinds of problems are not limited to the City of Angels, either.  There are politicians everywhere, you poor, unfortunates."

   

Undercover In Sin City.

With the economic downturn of the last decade, followed by the sequestration, and culminating in the government shutdown we here at Life Explained were consumed with the corrosive impact this would have on great American institutions.  After a lengthy discussion we could only think of one.  Las Vegas.  And after another, even lengthier discussion, several rounds of "Rock-Paper-Scissors" (in which everybody was disqualified for playing "Giant Spider" where you quickly cover your opponents coffee cup with your hand, and knock it over in their lap, technically we felt this was cheating) it was decided none of us was feeling foolish enough to fly.  We sent long time friend of,  and contributor to, the blog, Susan to investigate.

We made her sign the standard Waiver, of course, and then we rushed out and took out a large life insurance policy on her.  Hey, Susan is a gambler, she understands.

Poor, brave Susan, we will miss her. 

 Susan has sent back alarming news, it seems the whole city has been taken over by Ancient Rome.  This is shocking, we knew things were going to slip a little with the government shutdown, and everything.  But, this is worse than we imagined.  Of course, one time we saw something a little bit like this on Star Trek, and that turned out OK, thanks to Captain Kirk, and a little kicking of the behind.  And Susan is on the job, and she is very resourceful, we are not sure how she stacks up to Captain Kirk, but she did get on an airplane, more or less willingly, we think.  So, maybe all is not lost.

"Who you calling ancient, pal?

Would you like a cup of history with your coffee, this morning.

Everyday, actually every other day, one of the managerial duties I am lucky enough to perform is the traditional, ceremonial emptying of the sacred dishwasher.  It is a small company with an amazing history, owned by two geniuses, it is on the third re-invention, and each time comes crashing through the walls of history, kicking over the apple cart and reaching new heights of creativity and reach.  With a history like that you can have some turnover, some contraction, and expansion.   In this company the shelf holding the coffee mugs is the manifestation of that history.

People would start work, become comfortable and bring in their coffee mug, work for a while, leave the company, and abandon their mug.  It is like a core sample of the history of the company.  

And as the person responsible for emptying the dishwasher, I am in charge of this vital piece of history.  Let's be honest, the past is filled with personalities, and people, and the scrimmages and turmoil that are involved any time you add people to any equation.  Trust me when I tell you certain pieces of the company history would never be caught dead setting next to other parts ot the past.  

Also, when my personal mug is in the dishwasher, I am faced with the horrible decision of choosing which piece of history, which icon, which era of the companies glorious past to honor.  Some days it takes several minutes to decide.

I am thinking of bringing in a forensic anthropologist to sort through the eras, and devise a plan to sort the mugs chronologically, or department, maybe by friendship.  Until then I will do my best as custodian of history, and the preservation of this piece of this historically significant artifact.

A word from the managing partner.

Bad News.

My wife, (my delicate little flower, my wonderful little angel) made me go to a health screening this morning.  It was a pretty simple procedure, they drew my blood, checked my blood pressure, checked my height and weight, and measured me around the waist.  No big deal.

They were all very nice, and respectful.  And after I was done with my height, and weight check she said "ok, we're done."  I thought I was home free.

"I can go?"

"No, no, no.  There are some chairs over there, take a seat and a 'health consultant' will be with you shortly."
Dang, this is trouble, I knew it wasn't going to be that easy.

"Maybe you should lay off
the donuts, Sir."

I sat down, and soon a soft spoken, gentle seeming woman came and asked me to follow her.  We sat down, and she started comparing the numbers on my sheet with "optimal numbers" from a form and her voice grew somber, grim, and the air grew cold.

Soon she just handed me the papers, and asked me to leave.

"Probably the best thing you can hope for is to die in a plane crash."  She said, taking a sorrowful look at the form she handed me.

"But, I hate to fly,"  I explained.

"Maybe you will get lucky and a plane will fall onto your car on your way to work this morning."  She offered hopefully.  "Please, sign here, and give me back the pen, you won't need it."

"Could I get a second opinion?"  I asked.

"Ok, your hair looks awful, and your mustache makes you look ridiculous."  Oh no, that really hurt, I thought my hair looked good today.

It was kind of a rough way to start my day, but when nobody was looking I grabbed a couple of pens from the reception table, so things are looking up.

Dateline: Washington DC

In surprise news from the capital elected officials did nothing to solve the deadlock, end the government shutdown, or even ameliorate the anxiety caused by the sequester cuts.

Meetings are not scheduled, phone calls are not planned, emails are un-typed, and progress is not being made in a dramatic fashion.  In unrelated news several large conference rooms are available for rent, cheap, in the capitol building.  "Hey, we're not using them, and they would be great for weddings, bar mitzvahs, or family reunions, " one elected official (who would only identify himself as "crazy Bob, the Capitol's Best Realtor) said "but, you will need to clean them yourselves, all of the janitors are furloughed."

"We were elected to lead this great nation," one congress person told us, anonymously, "and that is what we are doing.  Don't blame us if it looks a little silly from the outside.  Hey, I was a dentist, before being elected, and there were no classes in national governance, and finance, international cooperation, or consensus building among disparate ideologies in dental school, and nobody gave us any directions when we got here (in fact they were kind of sanctimonious jerks).  We are just kind of winging it.  They all think it is so easy, maybe they should try it once in a while.  Ingrate constituents, anyway.  I tell you this is like pulling teeth."

The forecast for today, expect torrential downpours of pointing fingers, flurries of childish, petulant behavior and gusts of complete disregard for responsibility.

Tune in tomorrow, when I will predict (within 2 points) the winner and the point spread of tonight's NFL game between two teams, whose names escape me for the moment.  I think it is the Millionaires vs the Filthy Rich. but I will investigate further.

Austerity Measures.

Due to the cutbacks forced by the government shutdown the patrol of the national parks and monuments is being handled by UAVs (Unmanned Aerial Vehicles).  This move alone will provide enough savings to pay the salary of 2.5 Congress people.  Fortunately, there are .5 congress people scattered throughout the Capital.

Caution will be needed while in the vicinity of any of these, the programmers and all of the senior operators have been furloughed.  You see, these cutbacks are hard on everyone.

Please feel free to move about the country, but keep your eyes looking toward the skies.  We all need to make sacrifices.

Pitching in to help out in times of need.

With the cutbacks forced by the government shutdown it is imperative that private citizens help anyway they can.  Some people are volunteering to perform audits for the IRS, others are patrolling the national parks, in an effort to keep them clean.  A few brave souls have even chosen to perform the important work that the Center for Disease Control, performing experiments with various pathogens and viruses (look for hazmat suits in your neighborhood, then move).

Doctor Dawg has agreed to repair the Mars Rover.  Brave Dr. Dawg.

The time is now.

It is imperative in times of national turmoil that we pull together as a nation.  We need unity, and cooperation if the country is going to pull through these difficult times.  There are so many wonderful things happening in our great land why let a few differences rip us apart?

We should all come together, make amends and move forward.  There are many challenges that offer our country the opportunity to go beyond the most significant goals we have ever reached.  There are unique possibilities for working in unison, toiling together to overcome the difficulties, that should be pulling us closer, not pitting us against each other.

New potential achievements await at every turn, we can climb so high, together.  Now is the time for action.

If only my learned colleagues from the other party could see how stupid they are acting, if only they weren't so stupid.

Signed,

Any member, either house of Congress.

PS, please forward my pay checks to my vacation home in Belize, where I will be serving the needs of my constituents, one fruity, delicious, umbrella carrying drink at a time.

Long live the arts.

Recently a friend of Life Explained has expressed deep regret about the decline of fine arts in America.  Since this friend has made a living, and enjoys, the arts, she knows a bit about these things, and since she lives in Germany, and used to live in Scotland she understands more about American culture than the average resident.  

Doctor Dawg found this very disturbing and set about righting the problem in speedy, gratifying fashion.  

So, friends of the arts, and friends of Dr. Dawg, those in need of a little culture, and people in general, without further ado here is Perfesser Dawg performing his dramatic rendition of a scene from the classic Steve Earle song "Devil's Right Hand," as interpreted by the inimitable Webb Wilder and the Nashvegans.

Thank you,

DD, tc

Another victory, When will they learn?

Recently we had bacon, lettuce and tomato (BLT's, at our house) sandwiches.  There were many home grown tomatoes waiting to be used, and there was a feeling of joyous anticipation in the air.  But, tension was high as we went through our pre-meal production inventory.

• Potato chips, check
• Mayo, check.
• Bacon, check
• Bread, check,
• Tomatoes, check,
• Lettuce, fail, no go, abort meal preparation, we are out of lettuce.

A fine mess, no doubt, we were crushed, what would we do!

My wife, thinking quickly, though, said "I will start the bacon and slice the tomatoes, you go to the store and get some lettuce."

Go to the store, by myself, like a responsible adult, HELL YEAH!  Got to play it cool, though.  "Sure, I guess I could do that,"  I said, taking a sip of my coffee, or whatever I was drinking, who could remember in all that excitement.  

I rushed into the bedroom, and was going through the closet, trying to find the right clothes, while the theme song from Mission Impossible played in my head.

"You're just going to get lettuce, don't make a big production out of it!"  I heard my delicate little angel holler from the kitchen.  "And put that fedora back in the box, it makes you look silly.

Dang it, note to self check; closet for hidden cameras.

Arriving safely at the store I walk through miles of Halloween, displays, slowly being eaten by Thanksgiving items, which were being pursued by the ravenous hounds of Christmas things.  Stores amaze me, they are the perfect machine, there is so little wasted motion, out with the new, and in with the newer.  It is the perfect example of natural selection and atrophy.  As one holiday withers and perishes, another grows in its place, feeding on, and supplying the same consumers and needs, it is a symbiosis in all its beauty.  And the cycle repeats, from New Years through Christmas.

No time for that, though, off to find my quarry, lettuce, in its natural habitat, the Produce Department, which was huge, well stocked and thoroughly staffed.

Upon entering I was met by a man, dressed in an expensive looking suit.

"Good day, sir I am Maurice, your Produce Concierge, which wonderful fruit, or vegetable can I direct you towards today?"  He asked, dusting off my shirt with a whisk broom and handing me a recycled paper cup filled with coffee.

"I was looking for some lettuce, Maurice.  This coffee is fantastic."  I said.

With an almost imperceptible motion he summoned a young, well dressed, neatly manicured man, while saying, "it is fresh roasted over an open pit, and ground by hand, using a stone mortar and pestle handed down through generations of Produce Managers.  The cup is made from paper recycled through an all natural process by the inhabitants of various small villages scattered around the world.  This is James, our primary lettuce facilitator, he will be happy to assist you.  Enjoy your day, and your coffee, sir."

"Hello, sir.  It is alright if I call you sir?"  James asked, politely.

"Sure. but you could just point me toward the lettuce, and I'll be on my way."

"Let's start here, shall we?"  James asked, stopping in front of a display (the first of several in the lettuce annex) filled with loose green leafs wrapped in a silky, shiny looking material.  "Here we have a Romaine lettuce, actually grown in Romania, hand picked by a family that has been growing and exporting lettuce for hundreds of years.  It is flown in fresh every morning, if you listen closely you can hear the soft sound of a small stream being played gently in the background.  It helps the lettuce relax and feel at home.  This maintains freshness, comfort, and the wonderful striation that delicately decorates each leaf.  Organic, delicious, and superb, yes this is the lettuce for you, sir."

In an amazingly understated ballet of grace and precision James pulled a razor sharp knife from his belt sheath, and sliced a small bit of lettuce from a leaf and held it to my nose.  "You can smell the delicate taste, and wonderful, savory bouquet of flavor waiting in each hand wrapped leaf, can't you?"  James asked hopefully, as the knife disappeared, smoothly, quickly and silently.

It was a very pleasant scent, and it was probably very good lettuce, but at $17.00 a pound ($5.98 with a Penny Pincher Club Card) it was a little more than I wanted to spend.  Good lettuce is important in the successful construction of a BLT but, not that crucial.

"James, I am sure that is wonderful, but what I am looking for is a mostly green, sort of round little ball of lettuce.  It comes wrapped so tightly and taped so well that sometimes you need an electric appliance to open one."  I explained, not wanting to waste any more of his time.

"Oh" he said with disdain.  Opening a drawer, he grabbed a head of lettuce with his left hand, and shoved it in my chest.  As I was trying to keep balance, James performed a frighteningly coordinated, terrifyingly complex motion with his right hand, grabbing his exceedingly sharp lettuce knife from his belt sheath, he swung the blade quickly and accurately, cutting off the bottom, back side of my coffee cup, so it spilled all over my pants and shoes.

Security came and escorted me and my .99 cent lettuce to the back of the store where I paid the crankiest cashier they have.  On the way to my car I found a dollar, so the lettuce was free, take that produce department snobs.

The sandwiches were wonderful, and my wife was happy that I didn't have to call her for anything.

Next week I am going to go get some milk, those dairy department guys don't know the trouble they face.

Thank You,

It is time for a nation to breathe a collective sigh of relief.  Time to mop its collective brow, of the collective fear induced perspiration that has gathered during the collective trauma.  Time to raise a collective voice and say "Thank You, So Much, Elected Officials."

In what can only be considered a selfless act of compassion the houses of congress have decided to shut down the Federal Government.  What daring, what courage, what sacrifice.

"Yes, we shut down the government, it was the only decent thing to do."  They said.

To protect their constituents, and serve the needs of the country they have decided it was time to "pull the plug on the old girl.  In so many ways it is too bad Dr. Kevorkian has given up the ghost.  We could really use his services."  One insider was quoted as saying.

Really, it was the only humane thing to do, the government was suffering, and there really seemed no hope for any significant improvement.  Yes, they may have been able to make it comfortable for a short time, but the result was inevitable.  Systems were failing and the painful, pitiable, battle was drawing to an end.  There were just too many illnesses for one government to overcome.

In related news, Jane Goodall, who was considering studying the primitive life forms inhabiting the houses of congress, recently declared, "I will have to decline, they are too barbaric, and I would fear for my life."  Too bad, it would be nice if there were some explanation for their behavior.