College Football, Post Season, the Real Season.

Since football season is almost over it is time to examine the many changes that have set the world of college football.  There are momentous changes, and long lasting implication, it is a brave new world.  "If you do not change direction you may end up where you are heading."  Lao Tzu

This is the first year of the NCAA playoffs, with coaches, players and fans openly campaigning for their team.  It is a wonderfully shameless political campaign of trumpeting achievements and shouting the relative merits of a group of young athletes from the top of every mountain, and virtual, online soapbox.  It is nothing new, it has happened since the beginning of crowning a National Champion, (it is only more pronounced by the addition of a playoff) and it will last until the end of the sport.  Which, considering the recent collision with the courts and the NCAA's decision to allow the "power conferences" to make the monetary decisions regarding the benefits allocated to athletes will probably be much sooner than later.  It has been a good run, though.  So long, Mountain West, and MAC, we hardly knew ye.

But, all of this pales when compared to the conference expansion.  It started a while ago, maybe it was the Big Ten welcoming Penn State into the Old Boys network.  Officials from around the country watched, and waited.  What would be the fallout from an eleven team Big Ten Conference, not surprisingly, when the relative importance of the decision is considered, nobody really cared too much.

And the grab was on, conferences were grabbing teams in a Black Friday style dash for that glorious twelfth team that would allow for a conference championship game, almost a license to print money. A sponsored, endorsed, advertising intensive extravaganza of indulgence, and excess, a day long celebration of capitalism disguised as sports.  Executives and officials exchanging huge sums of cash.  Sports, they may not build character, but they will build fortunes, and fame, and several new campus facilities.   At least they would if universities weren't so busy throwing money at athletics.

This weekend was "Rivalry Weekend."  Kind of a self explanatory, but, it was a feast for advertisers, and fans alike.  Rivalries wax and wane with the fortunes of the participants, but can still be compelling television.

Yesterday, during one of the rivalry games, an ancient, august, game with a revered history, some brazen, fearless soul proposed to one of the cheerleaders, a beautiful young lady, with a dazzling smile.  And the entire romantic, private, touching moment was played out in the end zone, on televisions across the nation, and probably in armed forces bases around the world.  It was fantastic television, and automobile companies, brewers, and soft drink manufacturers are scrambling to find the next potential proposer to get their cut of the action.  Please contact a talent agent, and they can negotiate the terms of your proposal.  Everybody would profit.

Attracting Fans, Difficulties and Rewards

NFL Stadiums are looking for unique, entertaining diversions to attract fans.  Pleasantries to bring people out of the comforts of their homes in to huge arenas filled with strangers.  It is perplexing, attracting people to these giant monstrosities, parking miles away, standing in long lines to enter, exit, and waiting for hours in your car to drive home.  If only there were a competition, some sort of game being played in the center of the arena.  What?  There is, you say?  Oh, then what is the problem?

It seems the average ticket price into an NFL game is $84.83 which is kind of pricey.  So, that could be part of the problem.  If you have a family of four and you are fortunate to earn middle class wages that is a huge part of your budget.  Well, at least it only costs $10.00 for parking.

But, once you are inside you can immerse your little family in the total experience.  It will only cost you $5.00 for a soft drink, or popcorn, and $8.00 for a beer, or a hot dog.  But, the service is so extraordinary that the budget busting prices won't seem extravagant.  Just kidding, you will probably stand in line long enough to watch your clothes go out of style.

Your seats are liable to be uncomfortable, with enough leg room for a child, and in the center of a long row, so every time you need to get out everybody will be inconvenienced and worried about spilling a hundred dollars of food and drinks.  And, it will be the same when you return.

Of course, there is the game, which might be so far away that you might not be able to tell which team is which, (think Tecmo Bowl, who has the ball, or what everybody is cheering about.  And, even if you can see well enough to enjoy the game your legs will cramp from being folded into such an awkward way, and your fingers will cramp from trying to hold a drink, a snack, and all of the prohibitively expensive souvenirs you bought,(possibly a mortgage payments worth) and live in terror of losing of destroying.

What can they do to attract more fans?  It is a puzzle, wrapped inside a riddle, tied up with a question, and tossed into a trunk of troubling doubt.  What do you think they should do.  The best suggestion will get an honorable tweet, with the #bestsuggestion.  I know, it is such an honor.

Common Sense Application to Enormous Problems.

Today's traffic in the nation's capital calls for ego fueled, shortsighted, narrow minded, self-serving gridlock. This is liable to be a long term situation with little hope for resolution. Meanwhile the nation languishes and the problems grow, and compound. There is little hope for resolution. Elected officials threaten bicker, squabble, and insult, and perform far below expectations. 

 It is obvious our form of democracy is in desperate straits, and at least part of the problem can be attributed to the liberal infusion of cash, and the obligation that follows, an inescapable shadow, strangling cooperation, and bipartisanship. Infrastructure fails, while elected officials stand in the hallowed aisles of the houses of congress swinging their purses at each other, purses swollen with corporate cash. But, it is this cash, and greed, and need for control that could save us from some of our problems.

Large companies line up to throw money at arenas and stadiums, they can't wait to plaster their name on auditoriums, anything that will provide a tax shelter, and a little glad handing advertisement. We are constantly bombarded by product placement, and naming rights, everywhere we look. Why not use to this to our advantage.

Every civic reconstruction project should begin with two bids. The first is for the naming rights, and the second is for the actual construction, demolition, or both. Even in a relatively small city many people will never enter the basketball, or hockey arena, or the baseball, or football stadium. Sure, everybody will hear the name, repeated by the corporate shills manning the local press outlets, but with time it will cease to be a proper noun, Lucas Oil Stadium, Nationwide Arena, soon become, "lucasoilstadium." It is not intentional, it is human nature. But, imagine the impact of The Kraft Macaroni and Cheese Water Main. Something people use every day, something that gives life, and provides comfort.

What about the Waste Management Swamp Reclamation Project? Or the Pfizer Solid Waste Authority Land Fill, garbage trucks could be festooned with images of people whose lives have been made more complete through the use of applied chemistry.

If your municipality can not afford new police cruisers, sell advertising rights. Not only could the winning company place their logo on the side of the car, the siren could be programmed to play the commercial jingle. Imagine your delight at being pulled over by "My bologna has a first name it's O S C A R." Even hardened criminals will surrender gladly to the pleasant, happy child's voice singing joyfully about lunch.

Of course it won't solve all of our problems, but it will give us the foundation for reconstruction, a chance to claw our way out of the morass, find our way out of the darkness. Maybe we can auction off some of our elected officials to raise enough money for a pizza party. Actually, it will be more like a second mortgage.

One Small Step, Oh Heck, This Is Huge.

We, here at Life Explained (#lifeexplained) would like to congratulate our fellow genius scientists from the European Space Agency for landing a craft, an unmanned drone, on a comet.   At 5:03 local time, (local to Germany, not the comet, we are looking into what time it was on the comet, a fairly important question as their is the matter of overtime (time and a half) if it was after their regularly scheduled shift) the Philae Lander touched down, making history.  Bravo, European Space Agency.

This was an impressive feat, to be sure.  To quote James L. Green, the Director of NASA's planetary sciences division, "How audacious!  How exciting!  How unbelievable to be able to dare to land there."  Well put, Director Green, well put.

It was not without miscue, two harpoons that should have secured the lander to the surface of the comet did not fire, so Philea may not be secured properly.  Despite the problems it was a successful, extraordinary accomplishment, and we applaud the hard working scientists and engineers who pulled it off.

All of these space events, all of these daring firsts, all of the excitement, potential disasters and tremendous successes made us long for the old days, when Americans were leading the charge into space, putting men on the moon, orbiting, flying, landing in huge splashes of enthusiasm and excitement.  Before the dark days of government shutdowns, spending cuts, and the garroting of scientific research, and achievement.

In an effort to balance the field, a little, we, here at Life Explained, have taken it upon ourselves to fund a manned mission to a comet.  It was expensive, but we feel it was worth the money.   We cannot concede scientific glory and advances to the rest of the world without a fight.

Here is our first picture from the Steven Spielberg/George Lucas Mission.

Way to go, Doctor Dawg.

Year End Performance Reviews, Winner Take All.

This year we, here at Life Explained, (#lifeexplained) have decided to forgo the normal Christmas (for those of you waging a war on Christmas*, Xmas) gifts, year end evaluations, promotions, bonuses, and raises.  Instead, taking a cue from the ultimate authority in fair play, the NCAA, and having a playoff with the biggest prizes to be awarded to the winners, though we are trying to avoid all of the corruption, greed and malfeasance associated with organized sports.  It won't be football, or basketball, probably, but it will be a competition, and people are warming up to the idea already.

Right now we are leaning toward professional wrestling, WWE style, looking into the price of a decent ring, with a cage that lowers, covering the area so contestants are forced to battle it out, with no chance of escape.  A cage would even the playing field for Mabel from accounting, as her oxygen tank, and walker would slow her down, and allow her opponent to flee with ease.  Go Mabel!

Of course, nobody really wants to see Bob, from R and D in wrestling shorts, the guy looks like he might be the missing link.  And nobody really wants to wrestle Bill from the legal department, he is such a whiner.  He had to get stitches for his last paper cut.  One good body slam would leave him in a coma, which might be ok, until he woke up.

On the plus side, people are starting to come up with some very creative ring names, like "Carl, the Crippler Custodian," and "Doctor Daryl the Destroyer," the RN, who stitched up Bill's papercut.  Daryl is so enamored with the idea she smashed a guy over the head with a folding chair.  He came in to see about something for his headache, she screamed, "I got your headache right here," and knocked him, butt over tea kettle into the hall, he had to be transported to the hospital.  (Hurry back boss, we all miss you.)

Mabel wins again.

Anyway, there is a lot on the line, and spirits are running high, Doctor Dawg started accepting bets on the outcome, making odds, and so far Mabel is doing well, 3 to 1 against.  And the addition of masks has helped, though when you are competing for promotion, or a raise I suppose anonymity is not an asset.  Well, tune in to the Life Explained network, bet a big fat wad of cash (don't worry, if you lose the Life Explained Tax Service will provide documents proving it was a charitable donation) and catch all of the action.  It will be intense, and you won't want to miss a second, except when you go grab a drink or a snack, you know, the important things in life.

* We here at Life Explained would like to take this opportunity to espouse our love of peace (A), and all things peaceful, we feel that war is bad, and have no desire to participate in wars of any kind.  We are pacifists by preference, and by profession.  Plus, we like Christmas, and wish it came more often.

Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose.

People where I work sank to new lows, new depravities, despicable, detestable acts of unrepentant sabotage.  Every day, when I went to warm up lunch, breakfast, coffee, or snack in the microwave there were 3 to 7 seconds on the cycle.  So, I had to push clear, then choose the amount time needed for my project, only then could I start warming my stuff.  Sometimes, without noticing there were a few measly seconds left I will begin programming the timer, and it will beep, angrily, defiantly at me.  "Hold on there, hothead, what's the rush, there is still a few seconds left."  Eating into my precious lunch time even further.

You might think, well they don't do it intentionally, it is just one of those things, people forget to reset the copier to single all the time.  Oh, do they?  People remember to change it to 50 sheets without much effort, but somehow they forget to push "1"?  Right, pardon me while I try to suspend my disbelief.  Ok, I'm back now.

It is difficult to imagine the scene playing out in the kitchen.  "Oh, crap, the instructions said 'cook on high for 50 seconds' and I accidentally pressed 57.  Dangit!  Oh well, I will just stop it at 7."  Perhaps they were standing there, watching their food cook, and bam, it hit perfection 3 seconds short of the recommended cycle, and they could sense that through the shielded glass, and radioactive protection, they just knew.  And food cooked that precisely needs to be eaten quickly, there is no time to push clear.  Just grab your puny plastic spoon, or fork, rush back to your miserable little cubicle, and eat your perfectly heated whatever, growling, and snapping at anybody who walks past.  With such luxury you can see why they can't be bothered to push "clear."  

Figuring enough was too much I decided to fight back, not fight like fisticuffs, that is barbaric, but a protracted guerilla campaign.  A lengthy, unwinnable, war of terror aimed directly at my friends and co-workers.  

It was cheap, and easy.  I found a pad of post it notes, and a pen on a desk, not too far from the kitchen, and pocketed both.  Finding a secluded, lonely place in the work room, of course, I scribbled "Out of Order" on a few of them.  With the casual flair of James Bond I walked coolly, nonchalantly, and comfortably past the elevator, and stuck one right over the call buttons.  I could barely control my laughter.  

The 7th floor restroom became "non functional."  Coupled with the "non-operational" people were forced to take the stairs to answer nature's call.  

One night, I stayed a little late and put a few "please remove" post it notes on desks around the "bull pen," and the custodial staff, sensing the authority of a handwritten post it note, threw them away.  People were forced to sit on the floor, use the chair as a desk, and hope they did not need to take notes.

Soon, I started leaving notes saying things like "See me, as soon as you arrive!" with an illegible scribble as the signature.  People were rushing from one end of the building to the other, asking everybody with any authority, "did you want to see me."  After 7th or 8th person asking the mid level managers started to become impatient, angry.  

Then one day I came whistling into work, a brand new pack of lined, florescent Post-It NotesÔ (the real thing, only $9.49 a pack at Office Max) struggling to escape the confines of my pocket, and get to the new pen (a nice one, a Pilot G2 Gel Retractable, with an .07 nib, only $17.49 a dozen at Office Depot) in the front pocket of my shoulder bag.  There was a post it note on my monitor that said, "knock it off, or else!" and it was signed "You don't want to know who we are, or what we will do."

I went to work, answered my emails, and never stopped looking over my shoulders.

Here we go again.

Last Saturday, November 15th, Nebraska participated in a football game against the Wisconsin Badgers.  It was not a good game for Cornhusker fans.  Normally, I try to maintain perspective, and keep a positive attitude, but it is difficult.  Against Michigan State Nebraska played well enough to win, sure, maybe the Spartans were overrated, and yes, maybe they  fell asleep in the 4th quarter, but to me the game was summed up in the thought "boy, had we played the rest of the game like we played the 4th quarter we would have won."  That could be the delusion of a fan, but it might be true, it is impossible to say which is correct.  But, Saturday there was no such illusion.

Yes, we had a 14 point lead, but it was mostly a gift, from the Badgers, Welcome to Madison, here have a couple of touchdowns.  After that it couldn't end quickly enough.  The Cornhuskers couldn't block, and they couldn't get away from blockers.  Melvin Gordon ran right, left, up the middle, right into serious Heisman contention, and it seemed like the Blackshirts never got close enough to see the number on the jersey.  "Who was that guy?"  I realize that they may get their Blackshirts pulled this week, but I am not sure that addresses the real problem.

On the plus side the defense only gave up 46 yards passing, and three third down conversions.  Those are bright statistics on a very dark day.  If only we could look at those in a vacuum.

Ameer Abdullah, who is the epitome of a student athlete, and Tommy Armstrong were hurried, harassed, and rushed all night.  Sometimes it seemed like the Badgers were lining up in the backfield with the Nebraska offense.  Yes, they had problems, but mostly, they were caused by constant, grinding, inescapable pressure, that kept coming, play after play, like the tide.

Earlier this year, I made the foolish statement Nebraska was the most underrated team in the top twenty.  It was a brash, silly statement, based on hopes, and dreams, and wishes.  Of course, I remembered the losses to Minnesota, and Iowa, that were really not as close as the score might indicate, the terrifying meltdown at UCLA, the narrow escape against Wyoming, and that was only 2013.  Also, I recall the superman like heroics of #FearAmeer, that saved the game against McNeese state, but hope springs eternal.  Now, I feel a little silly. It is foolish to overestimate our distance or difference from the past.

Particularly after reading the comments of the coaching staff after the shellacking on Saturday.  What happened, "I don't know." was the mantra coming from the coach, the offensive and defensive coordinators.  Isn't that their job to know?  I don't know, to be certain, I am nothing but a humble blogger, but they make a pretty decent living to understand the mechanics of a football game.

It wasn't an act of God that carried Melvin Gordon to a new record.  It wasn't an act of nature, it was something Wisconsin did, that Nebraska did not counter.  "I don't know."  Is really not a very good answer.  I would have been happier had one of them said, "I am just as upset as the fans, and the press, and I swear that it will not happen again, not on my watch."  But, they all mentioned the past wins, and the future games, without addressing the problems of the present.  And, to be sure the future is important, Saturday's game against Minnesota looks huge, and the Seniors class deserves a big win.  And the past is what all Nebraska fans cling to, in these troubled waters.  But, the constant claims of ignorance are beginning to irritate.

I am not sure what the best course of action, it is hard to justify firing a coach who wins with such workmanlike regularity.  But, it is difficult to watch games when you have to worry about such a one sided spectacle, and it is like the cold weather, you know it is coming, you are just not sure when it will arrive.  This is a dilemma that Athletic Directors must face.  There is no easy answer, but it is time for a change, there is no doubt, this is too awful to contemplate.  Fans really expect and deserve, better, players need to know that they will not be on the wrong side of new records.  There is a lot at stake with your decision, Mr. Eichorst.  And fans everywhere wait, with very little patience.

To quote the immortal Bob Dylan;

"The watchmen he lay dreaming,
Of all the things that can be,
He dreamed the Titanic was sinking,
Into the deep blue sea."

Tomorrow is a new day, if we make it.

We are in the midst of the mid November Snow storm, an early variation of the polar vortex.  There was concern that this could be the end, so hauntingly depicted in the classic Doors so fittingly named The End;

"This is the end, beautiful friend,
This is the end, my only friend, the end
To our elaborate plans, the end,
To everything that stands, the end."

Thank you, Jim Morrison.

Local meteorologists were scrambling yesterday to find imagery raw, and terrifying enough to depict the coming apocalypse.  It was an afternoon spent warning people that we were in for a rough commute this morning, possibly heavy snow, and potentially, the end.

Stores were packed with combative, frightened shoppers, laying in supplies, bottled water, canned food, candles, batteries, ammunition (to shoot the roaming bands of looters, ravenous packs of timber wolves, and occasional polar bear), and bleach.  Why do they always buy bleach?  Some sort of bizarre need to keep whites white?  Nobody wants to face the end in a dingy, stained t-shirt.

This morning, stations were trampling all over the peaceful, virgin snow, each other, and poor slobs who just wanted to get to work, to bring you the latest, frightening video of snow falling, gently and lightly on a gas station parking lot somewhere south of town.  Local networks called every available reporter, and cameraman into work, for the "team coverage."  They were almost cruel in their capture and interrogation of motorists.

"What do you think of the snow, and driving to work in such hazardous, deadly conditions?"  The reporter asked, pointedly, accusingly, with a scornful, wicked smile.

"Well, people just need to slow down, you can't be in a big hurry."  The older gentleman, who looked as if he would never be in too big a hurry for anything, he was probably a grandfather, wearing a hand knitted stocking hat, and matching scarf, said softly, and politely, leaning into toward the microphone.  He probably did not want to inconvenience the reporter.

"So, you think slowing down, and being careful are enough to save us from the Snowpocalypse*?  Do you really think caution, and common sense will save us from this?"  The reporter asked savagely, with a sweeping, angry swing of his free hand to indicate the falling snow.  Since the older gentleman had moved closer to speak softly into the microphone the pronounced, emphatic arc of the reporters arm hit him right in the forehead and knocked him onto his back, in the new, wet, soft snow.

Thinking quickly, the dedicated journalist stepped over the prone, fallen older gentleman and interviewed someone who was coming out of the gas station with a two liter bottle of Mountain Dew, and a bag of powder sugar donuts.  He was "worried sick" about getting to work on time.  This made the reporter happy, and he patted the person on the back.

Of course, I could only watch so much, I had to get to work, and traffic was heavy, and slow, people were worried, and the freeway just inched along, but, I made it.   I hope you are safe, and warm, and somewhere with coffee, because I care about you, as a person.  Let me know if you had any problems, I will alert the stations.




* Snowpocalypse, much to my surprise, was not flagged as misspelled, neither was snownado.  It just struck me as odd.  Such is the evolution of English.

Winter Wonderland, I Wonder Why It Is Here So Early.

Sunday, cold, dreary, and forbidding.  Yesterday, not too bad, tomorrow will be worse, maybe.  Apparently there is a big storm heading our way, rain, snow, bitter cold, which, according to SixOnYourSide meteorologist Phil Kelly, is traveling right along the I-70 corridor (a strip of concrete, running mostly east and west that cuts Ohio roughly in half), storming down the freeway.  Unfortunately, we live, and work, just north of the well traveled freeway.

It is very unfortunate the storm did not choose to take Interstate 80 which runs in an east and west direction far north of us.  Research into storm behavior indicates a general reluctance by arctic storm systems to pay the exorbitant tolls on certain Interstate Highway systems.  The NOAA believes this may be the main cause of Lake Effect Snow.  Storms roll through Chicago, spending all of the spare change in the glove compartment, and they get to the area in northern Ohio, containing Toledo, and Cleveland, and run out of money to go farther.  It is what they call the "Grapes Of Wrath" syndrome.  The National Weather Service remains unconvinced.  They feel pretty certain that the recent improvements in The Rust Belt makes it such a nice place to visit that storms are loath to leave.

Of course, that is no consolation to us right now, with a winter storm bearing down on us, no stop signs, traffic lights, or roundabouts to slow it down.  Curse you efficient, convenient Modern Highways.

But, we here at Life Explained, (#lifeexplained) have come up with an elegant, easy, inexpensive solution.  We should just put up a detour sign right at the I-70 and I-75 interchange in Dayton.  "Interstate 70 closed east of Dayton, Local Traffic Only, Please Take I-75 South to Lexington then I-64 to Charleston, and I-79 tou to Pittsburgh."  Take that John Calipari!

It will not take long to print and erect a sign, but, with the shortsighted, narrow minded, self absorbed state government, obsessed with infighting, and the gathering and hording of wealth and completely unconcerned with the welfare of the citizens, it will never happen.  So we might as well grab the snow shovels, schnapps, stocking hats, gloves and thermal clothing, it is going to be a long winter.

The Life Explained Morning Show,

All the news you will ever need, in one morning, so enjoy the show, and then throw away the alarm clock.  You can thank us later.

Security Measures, But, Don't Get Any Ideas.

Here, at the top secret Life Explained (#lifeexplained) headquarters, we are keenly aware of security.  Conducting research into matters vital to national security, world peace, the eradication of alien threats, the continued habitability of the planet, exploring, and colonizing deep space, disease analysis and prevention, fighting plaque, and gingivitis, and lowering serum cholesterol, blood sugar and blood pressure* can tempt even the most honorable competitors to unscrupulous, criminal attempts to lay their grubby, felonious, lazy paws on our stuff.  Nothing personal, competitors, and you know who you are, we have video tape, well it is not actually tape it is maintained in a"cloud storage," an ingenious, online, offsite, secure medium, that has revolutionized... well that doesn't really matter, we know who you are, and so do you, that is all we are saying.

Of course, we have your normal armed guards, your normal retinal scans, and your normal concrete doors with steel reinforcements, titanium dead bolt locks, and high voltage enemy dissuaders, your normal vicious attack dogs, and for good measure we threw in a few of your normal Inland Taipan snakes, and just to be extra cautious, we released a few of your not quite so normal Komodo Dragons, wandering randomly through the building.  We thought about adding some spiders, but that is just insane!  Who would do that!?!?!?!

You know, though, you can never be too careful, risks are everywhere, and dangers lurk behind every closed door.  Closet doors are especially perilous here, at the the top secret Life Explained headquarters, god knows what those things are hiding.  Bob, the accountant, opened a closet to get his jacket, in 1996, and was never seen again, nobody has opened a closet since.  Anyway, we have many secrets to protect, countless proprietary designs, and fabrications, many, many intricate, elaborate constructions, and devices that need to be kept from prying eyes
.

What more effective way to combat burglary, industrial espionage, and vandalism than vampires and ghosts?  It does make being the first one to clock in or the last to punch out a little uncomfortable, but you know the old saying; "Anything worth having is worthing sacrificing a few over achieving coworkers for."

*Tell your doctor if you have high blood pressure, or elevated cholesterol, or a nagging injury, sore feet, dry, flaky skin, or a general sense of uneasiness, or if you've been eaten by a ghost, or bitten by a vampire.  That is what they get paid for.

Your mission, if you decide to accept it.

People who know me will tell you I am not one to boast.  Oh, sure, I could tell you about the time I saved the world by disassembling (disassembling ; v. to break) an Easy Bake Oven® to build a 110 volt 60 watt laser gun focused through the microscope from a toy chemistry set, and singlehandedly fought off an alien invasion, but I won’t, because that would just be bragging.

But, I am going to go so far as to say I have discovered a fantastic new website, called Robotbutt.com, staffed by geniuses, struggling to save  humanity using nothing but a touch of humor, and a warm smile.  These are people who deserve our attention, and our time, and our respect, these are the new giants of publishing.

Plus, they were kind enough to publish one of my posts, so I love these guys.  Now, rush over there and read all of their articles, there is some good stuff, and when you are done, leave a comment, telling them how much you liked my work, and how you can’t wait to see more.  And you were thinking of giving up the internet until you read my article, and you love it, and you love them, too.  It will make you both feel better, trust me.

Lunch, Some Day it Might be You, (enjoy it while you can).

Since it is Monday, and we have had such a busy weekend, here at the top secret Life Explained headquarters, we smoked a brisket, ran an auger, took apart (kind of) a major electric appliance, watched the new Hercules, with Dwayne (the Rock) Johnson, (yes, we can smell what the Rock is cooking, and in this case it was ancient Grecians, Greeks, Greekians..., people from ancient Greece), made a pan of killer lasagna, watched some football, watched some made trips to three, or four hardware stores, and updated the software on an iPad, we decided we were not in the mood to make lunch.

Of course that led to the constant, bickering and arguments, and turmoil.  What do you want, Pizza, Mexican food, Italian food, Asian, burgers, it is amazing how childish scientists working in a cutting edge, state of the art, top flight research and development facility can be.  It consumed the whole morning, and started to get so heated we had to lock the weapons lab, and post an armed guard at the entrance, an armed guard who had brought a lunch and could not be swayed by promises of hot spicy chicken wings, or tasty, sweet deserts.

Finally, about 11:30 we came up with the perfect plan.

That's right, we chose Alien food, it isn't always delicious, and you can never be too sure what you are eating, but, at least it isn't eating you, and that is always a plus.  Plus, it really hits the spot after a busy weekend.  Don't forget to reserve your Thanksgiving meal today, they are going fast, and it might be you or them, do you really want to take that chance?

Finally, a Solution to the worlds problems,

Looking around the world today there is a lot of sadness, a lot of misery, and a lot of loneliness.  People are looking for a friendly voice, a soft shoulder, a warm embrace, something to make them happy, anything.  It is truly one of the tragedies of our time, we have become so enamored of technology, gadgetry, electronics that we have lost our sense of empathy, we are lost souls drifting in an ocean of communication, without no hope of communing.

Ray Davies sang of the 20th century being a mechanical nightmare, and he had a valid complaint, but this is worse, insidious and omnipresent, we can not escape the grasp of our devices, and find our friends.  We can not look past the touch screen to touch the lives of others, unless we can do it online.

What can we do about it?  How can we find even a moments respite, a small, warm touching moment of intimacy, a little warmth, the healthy, caring glow of companionship in a world gone mad with the lunacy of electronics?  You ask.

We, here at Life Explained (#lifeexplained) are glad you asked.  We think having a pet is a wonderful solution.  "But," you might protest, "pets can be so time consuming, demand so much attention, are such a huge commitment,in time and money, how can we justify such an investment?"

We, here at Life Explained (#lifeexplained) are glad you brought that up.  We have instituted the Rent A Pet Program* (RAPP, for short), a unique, inexpensive, commitment free way to have the loving, comforting presence of a pet, without the long term demands of ownership.

You simply email us tweetTweetJohn@yahoo.com with the dates you would like to have a pet, and we will send Dr. Dawg* over to cover the requested days, offering companionship, sympathy and caring, loving friendship, all for one low price.

Imagine coming home to this loving face after a hard thankless day at work.  Picture the joy you would feel having a companion waiting at the door, an understanding, caring pet, that offers nothing but compassion, and love.  No judgement, no demands, just love.  And, if he could make a pan of killer lasagna wouldn't that be even better?

Doesn't that sound joyous?  Wouldn't you like that?  Of course you would.  Act now, while there are still openings in the schedule, the holidays are a very stressful time and we expect a lot of demand, so reserve your Dr. Dawg visit now.

*Dr. Dawg and Rent A Pet are exclusive Life Explained properties, except no substitutes.  Life Explained (#lifeexplained) is not responsible for unfulfilled expectations, or any cardiovascular conditions resulting from consuming the comfort food that Dr. Dawg specializes in making.  Tell your doctor about any heart conditions, hypertension, or lactose intolerance, but, we, here at Life Explained think your doctor probably already knows.

Winter, a time for real men, and first aid.

Saying farewell to summer, and welcoming winter can be bittersweet, as you put away the shorts, sleeveless shirts and sandals and break out coats, boots, and sweaters, it is easy to remember the joys of summer.  Mowing, raking, baking in the inescapable,  unforgiving sun...  Well, that doesn't sound that good.  Reaching back a little further... ah yes, the joys of summer, the carefree days of sitting in the withering heat trying to catch a fish.

Fishing is a great past time, trying to outsmart an animal, crafty, and cunning, hiding in the depths, a ruthless carnivore, a relentless, tireless predator.  Armed with nothing but a $250.00 dollar rod and reel, several hundred dollars of assorted "tackle," a cooler full of beer, and a fifteen thousand dollar boat.  Morning turns to afternoon, and slides effortlessly into evening, as you match wits with a primitive creature.  Trolling, drifting, setting anchor, nothing works, all day, and not a nibble, enough blood loss to mosquitoes that you may need a transfusion, and a sunburn so bad it might require skin grafts, and not one nibble!  Stupid fish, anyway.  Things will go so much better when you have a new pickup to haul that boat to the lake, then you would be reeling them in.

But, winter is not the time for fishing, (well, ice fishing is popular in some places, but, since that doesn't support this post, so we are going to ignore it) winter is for hunters.  Ah, hunting, there is a past time that is older than humanity.  It is just you, and a five thousand dollar shotgun loaded with shells that cost more than the first several cars you owned, and the birds, facing off in a life and death struggle, may the most evolved species win.

After hours of tromping through wet undergrowth, in arctic conditions you still have not seen your first bird.  Sure, you have heard plenty, as they jump up right behind you, (you must have almost stepped on the stupid things) and fly quickly away, screaming in bird language, "hey, here I am, human, right behind you."  Oh, this is too much.

You are no longer even willing to eat the evil thing, you are convinced it is the same bird, following you throughout the day, jumping up, shouting bird obscenities at you, and flying away.  Enough is too much!  You just want to blow that bird into little pieces, pieces so small it would take a vacuum cleaner to pick the thing up off the ground.  You have a plan, and you are ready.

At the first sound of a bird taking flight, you spin violently around, looking wildly for the malevolent bird, and hit your friend, who is sending a text message, right in the face, with enough force to shatter his nose.  Blood flies everywhere, and he drops his phone in a muddy puddle at his feet.  To further complicate problems, the force of the collision, gun barrel against nose, causes you to pull the trigger, and in what has become typical of the day, the pellets blow out the windshield and puncture the radiator of your wife's car.  Dammit!!!  If only you had spent the extra $3.000 to buy the really good shotgun.

You head to the road, helping your friend, who is starting to look pretty pale, just in time to see the bird wink at you and run into the bushes at the bottom of the ditch.  

A public service announcement.

Tomorrow is election day, so get out there and vote.  It is your civic duty.  And remember a vote formy opponent is nothing more than a wasted vote.  It is obvious to anybody with with a pulse the other candidate in this race is one public records request from a lengthy, uncomfortable well deserved prison sentence.

Of course considering the voting record it is for the best, who votes to raise taxes, and debt, close schools, hospitals, police, and fire stations, libraries, museums and churches, just to build more parking lots, so they won't have to pay the parking meters.  Which they never did, running up huge parking ticket debt, that they have no intention of ever paying.

But, that is not the worst of it.  Look at the campaign staff, friends, family, crony's, the whole organization is built around nepotism, nothing but a bunch of clowns, and trained monkeys.  You just know they are all going to end up in the cabinet.  That is no way to run a government, I tell you.  Just a shame, really.




Anyway, vote, it is an honor, it is a privilege, it is a duty, it is kind of a hassle, and if you forget to vote stop by the Life Explained Top Secret headquarters and get one of these fancy "I VOTED TODAY" stickers so all of those hoity toity, fancy schmancy, hyper organized people with their fully functioning short term memory won't look down their snooty nose at you.  Jerks, anyway.

Remember, vote for Dr. Dawg, it is your only hope.  #youronlyhope




*At least, I meant to vote today.

Coffee, Our Light Against the Gathering Darkness #hotdrinkday

Coffee, the nectar of the gods, the staff of life. For years the world has been enjoying the fruits of the coffee plant. It has become endemic, a part of culture, a ritual involving friends, couples, co-workers, acquaintances, total strangers, all coming together enjoy the rich, dark roasted beans, ground to varying degrees of perfection, and brewed into a cup of delightful, caffeinated, heavenly elixir. And now, this wonderful, life giving drink is under attack from tea drinkers, across the Atlantic, I guess we always knew it would end up this way, didn't we? With the British attacking one of our greatest institutions, again.*

I have a friend, who lives in Ireland, but she used to live in Germany, after she lived in Scotland, that is, but before Scotland she lived in London, I think, any none of that matters, what is important, she has had the opportunity to sample many nations, including tea, in the United Kingdom, which she enjoyed, quite a bit, but the drink of which she spoke most glowingly, Italian Coffee. She spoke, fondly of the pleasant aroma, the dark, rich colors, and the exquisite taste as she sipped from her demitasse, in the ancient heart of the Roman Empire, a moving, historic experience, brought to you by coffee.

Opening a fresh can, and the aroma feels the kitchen, the entire house with a fragrance, powerful, and intoxicating. Even people who don't drink coffee (and here I am thinking of my wife, who enjoys Diet Coke) have to admit it is the most pleasant of aromas. When you put it in a basket, press, or filter and run hot water over it, the aroma becomes almost magical, almost terrifying in its power. It draws the weary, it calls to the faithful, it is a morning ceremony, an afternoon reward, and an evening libation. Coffee, all things to all people.

In my house there is a coffee maker that has a normal pot, and a single serve "K-Cup" brewer. No matter what taste you are in the mood for, one cup, or twelve, it takes in the raw ingredients, and dispenses them, hot, delicious, and ready to please. It is an ingenious machine designed, manufactured and distributed the Hamilton Beach™ company, true giants of innovation (#lifeexplainedJ is still looking for corporate sponsorship if anybody from the Hamilton Beach Co. happens across this post, and I love your coffee maker, and coffee).

 Plus, I have a coffee grinder, (also a Hamilton Beach™… Ok I just made that up, I don't know what brand it is™, but it could be a Hamilton Beach®) and a "French Press" in case the desire for something a little different strikes. Unfortunately, I still have not figured out how to use the French Press the desire needs to be a gritty cup of very strong coffee, but hope springs eternal in the world of coffee drinkers.

Take a stroll down the coffee aisle at the local grocery store. French roast, Italian roast, Sumatran, Arabian, Columbian, Hawaiian, Java, that is not counting Russian coffee, Irish coffee, (trust me, the list goes on almost without end) coffee is like the United Nations of hot drinks. Coffee could bring the world together, one cup at a time. Imagine if we stopped bickering, sat down and shared a cup of coffee, things always look better when viewed through the steam rising from a fresh cup of coffee.

Not in the mood for a traditional "cup o' joe," though, as is obvious from the earlier paragraphs there is no single, traditional, cup of coffee, no worries, my friend. Just grab an iced, caramel macchiato, or a chocolate mocha, or if the time of year is right, wrap your coffee lovin' mitts around a pumpkin spice, or a peppermint, latte. Coffee, the morning drink that, when prepared properly, provides a day's worth of calories.

Coffee is a drink that has served the armed services, the Hollywood elite, the Wall Street, and Main Street. Coffee is a versatile drink, it helps make you alert, or calm you down, depending on your needs. It has a taste that is indescribable, and diverse. It brings people together, fosters and nourishes ideas, and provides nourishment, and sustenance, to the mind and the soul. "Coffee is the number one drink in the world, everybody drinks it, even little kids in Mexico drink coffee… it is the lifeblood that drives the dream of champions." Iron Mike Ditka in Kicking and Screaming. That is Super Bowl Champion Coach Iron Mike Ditka, what other proof do you need?

For the Defense of Tea, please read the fantastically entertaining Blog of Thog, a writer without compare, and a tea drinker +Mike Raven!

*Just kidding, I love the British, the Welsh, the Scottish (mmm, Scotch Whisky) all of the United Kingdom. I had no part in throwing the tea in the harbor.
** I know, it was from the movie "Kicking and Screaming" but I never let a little fiction stand in the way of making a point, and as far as any of us know, that is exactly how Iron Mike feels, who wants to question a guy with nickname "Iron Mike?"

 

 

Thanksgiving Comes Early

What a magic weekend, enchanted, and wonderful.  A weekend that brings so much joy to so many, so much pleasure to a tired nation.  This is the weekend the gods of chronology give us an extra hour sleep.  This is the weekend when you can wake up, look at the clock, and think, "no, it is not 8:00 it is only 7:00 and I can sleep another hour."  

 
Oh sure, the sadistic, heartless members of the irresponsible press will tell you to turn your clocks ahead before you go to bed tonight, but that is only a government generated, corporate approved, mandate designed to fuel the oppression, and control of the masses, keeping the population compliant, imprisoned, and toiling in anonymous, thankless labor, feeding the giant profits that our elected representatives, and their owners, big business, have come to enjoy. But, we here #LifeExplained™, are here to help set our brothers and sister, and moms, dads, aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, and nephews free.

 
Before you go to bed tonight ignore your clocks, walk past them without a second thought, without a glance. Think of your clock as your job responsibilities and ignore them completely, thinking "oh, I will take care of that tomorrow." Maybe even have an extra bourbon, or scotch, beer, wine, of soft drink, and some more popcorn, nachos, or wings, and live life in complete gluttony, and complete disregard for all of the advice and concern of your doctor, and loved ones. Why not, you will get an Extra Hour Of Sleep. And sleep is the ultimate remedy.

 
Here, I would be remiss if I neglected to point out that our poor friends in Indiana don't get this fantastic gift. They have the same, dull, monotonous time all year long, going from day to day, never ending, robot like automatons. Always under the thumb of "the man," doing all of that stuff that Indiana natives are famous for, whatever that is. It is time Indianan… Indianian, Indianaiananian… Indiana natives, whatever you are called, it is time to rise up and demand an extra hour of sleep, it is your right.

 
So, tonight indulge, over indulge, and then have a little more. It is the night of extravagance, it is the night of rewarding yourself for all of those mornings where the clock was in charge, where the clock was the master. Tomorrow you have the upper hand, (at least for an hour) and that doesn't happen very often.