How the west was won.

Once we arrived in Oregon the wagon master called us over to the chuck wagon and told us there was not enough cappuccino to go around and some of us would have to drink regular coffee, from a can, brewed in a drip coffee maker. After the long trek across the wilds of a new it was more than we could take.

"You know, I didn't leave the comfort of Boston for this crap! Coffee out of a plastic can, with no froth, or foam. What a bunch of crap." Billy said, turning, looking at the impossibly tall mountains they had just come down from, and remembering the even taller ones behind. He took a cup of coffee, sat and sulked.

"Anybody want a Danish," Cookie called from behind the dying campfire. Billy hurried over only to find a plastic clam shell with packaged rolls being passed form one grimy hand to the next. And they weren't even Sara Lee, they were just some store brand. Billy was so mad he challenged Cookie to a gun fight. It was the wild west, after all.

Cookie had no gun, and his knives were all dull from months of riding over the uneven terrain stuffed in a plastic milk crate. So, he hit Billy in the back of the head with his dutch oven. Unfortunately, it was holding that day's lunch, a lamb based bullion with delicate, fluffy biscuits, fresh carrots and little green onions. It was all over the ground, and we were forced to eat microwave hamburgers from the dollar store in Baker City.

Everybody really started to hate Billy, and Cookie, but nobody else wanted to be the chef, for one
thing Cookie sounded so effeminate, and everybody was always griping about the food. It was decided the fault was exclusively Billy's.

To punish him we tied him to the back of a horse and were going to drag him across the rugged landscape, it was the wild west after all. But, the rope broke, and Billy was left standing there looking ashamed, and a little foolish. So, we fixed him an Appletini and rustled up a big mess of crispy delicious shiitake mushrooms with fresh ground pepper and dried Parmesan, and made our way to the nearest Holiday Inn Express.

And that is how the west was won.

Morning, Coffee, and Hummingbirds.

I like to get up early, before anyone else. At least I have convinced myself it is by choice, it might be the curse of my Mother and Aunt (who was like a second mother). They were raised during hard times, and spent many years working as waitresses. Often their working shifts would start early for the breakfast crowd. It seems that it became habit, and I would tease them, laughing about the hours they kept. Now, those are the hours I keep. And I can’t help but wonder if they are somehow responsible, in some heavenly reward, which they both deserve, drinking heavenly coffee and laughing quietly at me as I talk about how much I enjoy the solitude of early morning. “He who laughs last, laughs loudest,” I guess.

This morning, I decided to mix pleasure with pleasure, so to speak. I brought my coffee, my iPad, my phone and my camera out to the deck to hunt the elusive hummingbird. 

Hummingbirds are fast, lightning fast, changing directions in a microsecond, stopping, hovering, and zooming off. Science fiction alive and well in the animal kingdom.

I remember the first time I saw a hummingbird. It came buzzing in, sounding like a flight of angry hornets. A terrifying buzzing with no distinct point of origin. It echoed off the walls, filled the patio, surrounding me with a terrifying, inhuman sound right out of the apocalypse. “Look at the size of that bee!” I told my wife, grabbing my chair to fend it off, thinking about throwing my wife as a sacrifice so I could make my escape. She would understand.

“That’s a hummingbird.” She said, with the practiced patience she has developed over the years. 

Sure enough, it was a gentle, dainty little bird, flitting gracefully from flower to flower, drinking and moving on. I fell in love. It was the most amazing animal I had ever seen. It sat, mid air, wings beating so fast they were a blur, long beak dipping into the small flowers, drinking and moving on. It was the most delicate, beautiful scene. My wife buys flowers she knows they like, just to keep them coming. She knows how much I enjoy seeing them.

Last year I got a hummingbird feeder for my birthday, and a friend of my wife’s makes a magic elixir of sugar and water, boiled, refrigerated, and irresistible to hummingbirds. They stop all day, have a drink, flit among the flowers and speed off. Today, I managed to get a picture of one, having a drink. 

Oh No, Not Another Blog Post

Recently I fell into a slump. I'm not sure what happened. I didn't exercise enough, writing became a chore, life was odd. I don't really know why. Sure, I hurt my knee, technically, my knee hurt itself, the doctor said it was tendinitis, I think he just didn't want to say "you're getting old and you weigh too much."

Also, I have spent way too much time reading about the current administration, and the "reality television" approach to diplomacy. Honestly, I worry that we are only a few foolish miscalculations from the war to end all wars, the war to end all humanity. And, if anybody is liable to make a foolish miscalculation and stumble into a nuclear exchange Trump seems as likely as any, ever. I watched the way he acted with our "allies" and our "enemies" and it made me recoil in horror. Here is a man with the theatrical sense of a professional wrestler in charge of the nuclear weapons.

I'm not really sure how much control the president has over targeting decisions, very little, I hope, it is not too difficult to imagine our president wanting to bring "fire and fury" down upon Canada for their aggressive trade imbalance. After all, between my wife and I we have had at least three cars, American cars, mind you, Chevy, Chrysler, those kind of things, that were assembled in Canada. That takes a lot of damned gall. Further, on Sunday, my wife and I stopped at Tim Horton's (a notoriously Canadian company) and had breakfast, I feel like such a traitor.

Plus, one of the guys I work with quit and moved down south to start a small, organic farm, one of those field to table kind of things, and the decision was made not to replace him. Which does lead to additional work for those of us who didn't quit, the survivors. I don't blame the quitter, not too much anyway.

Here I am toiling away.

Truth be told, I have quit a lot of jobs, (I was an awful job hopper) and I would have probably quit this job a long time ago if my wife hadn't threaten to kill me in my sleep if she missed another vacation. Now, I am so old and feeble (see paragraph 1) that I am probably lucky to have a job at all. So, we are stuck with each other, me and the company for whom I work, until that golden age when my wife can retire with her civil servant pension and I become a kept man. What a lucky girl.

So, life has been hectic, and I am pretty sure the current administration is going to drive us over the edge in a foolish, suicidal act of ignorant nationalism (see WWII for example), but until then you are not going to get rid of me that easily. Yes, that's right, declining health, extra work, toil, labor and paranoia will not deter me, it will take the destruction of mankind to stop me from having my say.

Power to the People

Today, while I was "working" the power went out. Electricity stopped flowing, all moving parts stood still. We have battery backups for our computers that give us enough time to save anything we are working on, and turn the machines off safely. Not really a problem for me, I never do anything important.

Of course, everything starts beeping, chirping, crying for attention. Everywhere in the building tiny little alarms were sounded. "power went out. help me."

And it hit me. I should have gotten some water. In the kitchen there is BenchMark 3000 XL with a UV filtration system that dispenses frosty cold, UV filtered water. I don't know how it works but ultraviolet light has no sympathy for contaminants that make water taste stale or musty. It needs electricity to work though, and that spigot had been closed.

If you think I can ever go back to tap water after tasting the nectar produced by mixing light and water you are fooling yourself, friend. It must be H3O. I was willing to just give up and turn to dust right at my desk before resorting to that humiliation.

In fact, I had started working on my last will and testament. I was using my phone since the computers were not working, and I'll be damned if I'm going to use a pen and paper. Do you take me for a fool? Besides, I am not even sure I have a pen that works at my station. I would have to get up and walk around to the desks of people who had not yet arrived, or those down enjoying a cigarette during the brief lull in modern technological productivity.

Then it hit me, I should get a cup of coffee before the delicious life giving elixir gets cold. Newton's law of cooling is quite specific, TS > TE  System S cools until it is in thermal equilibrium with E. In an isolated system TS decreases while TE increases. Obviously, I had to hurry.

 Unfortunately, many of my coworkers had performed the calculation as well. A line had formed at the coffee maker. Ten people looking lost, sad and forlorn, staring in abject misery at the little pot. There was only two and a half cups left in the carafe. The power was out, the water cooler didn't work, and the coffee was almost gone. It was looking desperate. I wondered how long we had before we had to pick the weakest associate and eat them.

Then something beautiful happened. Mitch from Customer Relations filled his mug, took a sip and handed it to Marge, from Legal Services. She took a sip and passed it along. Somebody started singing Blowing in the Wind. A chorus of off key, creaking voices joined. People were crying, holding each other.

"I am going to miss string cheese the most," a timid voice said. Sobbing people started talking about the things they would miss most from civilization. It was touching and beautiful, in an awful, and terrible way.

Man, were we embarrassed when the power came back.

The Coming Disaster, A Precautionary Tale.

There was an article in a scholarly journal recently indicating that insects, spiders, mammals, in fact most species that are not human evolve more quickly. The assertion was generational influence operates on a fairly static principal, and since these “lower species” have a much shorter life span the influence is accelerated. The members who live, and reproduce create more robust, elusive, and able offspring.

No matter how you feel about climate change meteorological evidence proves that winters have been milder, and summers warmer. One of the effects of this climate change is the increased opportunity for reproduction. All of the sudden species are racing down the evolutionary highway.

Yesterday, my friend, John, was working in the dock of our building. He came across a huge spider. Even John found the size of this spider to be unnerving, and he doesn’t panic easily. He captured the spider in something sturdy, and tossed the beast outside.

“It turned around and looked at me, and I swear it gave me the finger.” He said. “It made me a little mad, but it was so big, and looked so angry I decided to let it go.”

I don’t blame him.

Today, I stopped to get gas. There were a couple of birds bouncing around on the concrete pad of the gas station. Dusty, brown birds, hopping closer and then retreating on the harsh gray concrete, looking at me, then bouncing up on the grass. They would start over again, coming to within a few feet of my car, then hopping away. Stupid birds, I thought.

Since I was dangerously close to getting to work early I decided to stop and get a cup of coffee. There was a Tim Horton’s right on the way. Coffee for me, and some donuts for my associates, bar keep.

As I walked back to my car, a cup of coffee, and box of donuts a wonderful companion to my little stroll, I saw two birds right by my car. They looked like the same birds! One of them flew up and came to rest on the railing of the cargo carrier on top of my car. He looked at me, black, pupil less eyes flashing, anger, resentment and contempt.  It was a little unnerving.

“What are you doing?” I asked, trying to sound intimidating.

The other bird flew up and landed on the hood over the motor of my car, turned, looked at me and said, “We’re going to follow you around. You can’t escape. We are going to ruin your day.”

Stunned, I stopped, feet frozen, knees locked, mouth moving making no sound. I didn’t know what to

do, what to say to a bird who was threatening me.

“Yeah, we hate you.” The one on the top of the car said.

“Why?” Squeaked out.

“Oh, I don’t know. Pollution, deforestation, urban sprawl, wars, walls, windmills. A general lack of concern for every other creature on the planet.” He said, his voice whistling through the air, cutting like a tree branch being swung in anger, the barbs and thorns right in the front, ready to rip off flesh. He bounced and turned, and looked at me sideways.

“But, I have this World Wildlife Fund commemorative leather wrist band with a panda device right on the badge. All proceeds from the sale went to protect the environment.”  I said, my voice shaking, my hand shaking as it attempted to point at the ornamental band on my wrist and hold the coffee. My wrist was shaking, trying to turn the emblem out and hold the donuts.

They screeched with what I am assuming was bird laughter. The bird on the hood looked at a group of squirrels who had gathered on the wooden privacy fence that kept the mechanics shop dreariness from spilling onto the donut shop parking lot, and said, “Isn’t that cute, he has a bracelet?”

One of the squirrels laughed so hard he fell off the fence.

“Our hero,” the big squirrel at the end said, wiping tears off his face with little squirrel paws. “I guess that makes up for driving the car, all alone, every day. Or the years of trash, and waste, and neglect.” He was starting to sound a little angry. 

I jumped at a sound behind me, turning so quickly most of my coffee ended up running down my leg, burning all the way. Hot, steaming, delicious liquid, dark and tempting, soaked into my sock, the loss was painful, the pain was immense.

Two of the angriest geese I had ever seen were walking towards me, cursing, and hissing. Language so awful I can’t repeat it here, or anywhere.

I backed up toward the store, my left heel bumped into the raised sidewalk and I knew the wall was only a few feet away. I was trapped. All of the animals were fanned out in front of me, chanting softly, uniformly, something deep, primal, terrifying. It resonated in my bones, in my ears, I could feel the anger in my chest and stomach.

I was out of options, and time. I threw the box of donuts at them. It fell short and they spilled over the parking lot.

“Hey, donuts!” They all sang. And started eating ravenously.

I jumped in my car and sped off, breaking speed limits, traffic regulations and common decency. But, I got away. If you happen to be in the north part of town and a bunch of city animals ask about me don’t tell them where I am, please.

Friday, time for a cease fire.

Friday is victory, the battles of the week are over, today is a victory lap.  Yes, there were close calls, and narrow escapes, terrifying confrontations with belligerent Visigoths from the customer service department,(note to self, send a diplomatic envoy to R and D to convey good will, and express a desire to sign a non aggression treaty, and hammer the telephone center with small arms fire from both sides, a good non aggression pact can allow for some real aggression) but that is past, and the cusp of the weekend has arrived.

There are few things in life more precious than Friday, so relish the day, and don't even think about the unrest fomenting in the Mail room, it is a nothing when compared to the liberty of a two days off. Maybe, on Monday, we should think about aligning ourselves with the accounts payable department, they send a lot of mail, and that would be a good way to plant a spy in the mail room, find and exploit the weaknesses.  There is a rumor making the rounds that the folder inserter operator collects salt and pepper shakers in the shape of biblical characters. We might be able to use that to get a little dirt on the supervisor.

It will be so nice to walk out tonight, savoring the aroma of emancipation, knowing that the barbecue tongs are clean, the lawn is mowed, and there are steaks in the refrigerator.  There are few parallels in the modern world, to compare with the elation of Friday.  Don't even think about those Vandals from the legal department snooping around in the hallway, pretending they dropped a push pin and rolled all the way down to your department. Just make sure you didn't throw anything incriminating in the trash. What I like to do is cross out my name and throw it in the waste basket down in the custodial workroom. Don't let them catch you loitering around down there, though, mop handles and broom sticks leave welts and some scars that can't be seen and will never heal.

We are planning to post snipers in the hallway next week in an effort to stop the infiltrators from QC
who keep coming down here to plant booby traps in the coffee machine. Last week, Janet's "World's Greatest Administrative Assistant" mug blew up when she poured in the aerated non-dairy creamer. She was heartbroken. Of course, it didn't really bother anybody else, because nobody really believed she was the "greatest administrative assistant" in the world. Many of us couldn't find proof that she was an administrative assistant at all. But, she did spend 9.95 plus tax on the mug. If anybody knows where we can lay on hands on light artillery pieces we would be grateful.

I feel like I should leave you with a little wisdom, some gem to help you gird up your loins for next week. God knows, any week that starts with a Monday is likely to get bad, before it goes completely dark. Maybe the quote from William Tecumseh Sherman is most appropriate, business "is cruelty. There is no use trying to reform it. The crueler it is, the sooner it will be over."  Oh, and don't forget, performance evaluations are due next Thursday, and there will be cake in the lunch room Monday to celebrate Mother's Day.

Life wins, again.

Life is hard to understand, Occasionally something good will happen. Most times, though, random occurrences, minor, petty inconveniences barge in callously proving life is not your friend.  Life belongs in a museum, behind glass, or a zoo locked in a cage.  We need to control life a little better.  Life walks around, taking, and stomping, and smashing, and just being a big bully in general.

We, here at Life Explained, have decided to take steps to rein in the abusive monster of reality. First we called a meeting, complete with catered breakfast, and coffee service.

It was fantastic, croissants, bagels, fresh pastries, all arrayed in artfully on long tables, covered with pristine white linens. Oh, and the coffee, was the coffee extraordinary. Dark, hot, freshly ground, steam rising as you poured it in your cup. It had to be the coffee of the gods.

A line started to form at the buffet table. Soon there was some jostling, it looked like the cheese danish were going to go before Geoff, the archivist was going to get one. He tried to muscle his way in front of Cathy, the secretary for transportation department, nasty words were exchanged. Glares, snarls and curses.

Not just swearing either. Turns out Cathy comes from a long line or gypsies. It was, in retrospect, obvious. Cathy was always wearing flowing, pleated, flowered skirts ending at her ankle. Her dusky complexion was complimented by eyes so dark and so glittering they appeared to be pupiless. When she walked, anywhere, people, in the back of their thoughts, almost imperceptibly, heard distant, primal music. A song that haunted them for minutes after she had past. Nobody said anything about the melody, why would they. And nobody made the connection, until yesterday.

Before Geoff could could get back to the end of the line all of his hair had fallen out. He had spent so much time perfecting his look, just the right  amount of grey around the temples, the rest jet black, and combed precisely backward, almost aerodynamically. He spent a small fortune on hair products, to keep it in place and colored just perfectly. His clothing was chosen to compliment his hair.

When it fell out he dropped to the floor, sobbing, weeping, curled up in a ball, his face buried in his hands. His shining, bald head gleaming under the harsh lights of the flashing camera phones. It was heartbreaking, and all over Instagram.

We decided Life had won this round. Cathy got her own office, and a company car. Geoff apologized and got his hair back, in a gleaming shade of white/silver that would go with almost any suit. And we went back to work.

Don't worry, we haven't given up, we lost the battle, but the war continues. Maybe we will have pizza next time.

And the Beat Goes On.

It was only a matter of time before somebody found out. And when they found out it was probably going to make somebody angry. And when they got angry it was going to spill over onto the others, and soon the whole place was going to melt down into chaos, confusion and potential violence.

Almost predictably, it was the sales staff that blew up first.

A chair flew out into the hallway, followed by an unearthly screech, laden with profanity, enough swearing to make a pirate blush. It didn't take long until the sales associates stormed the Marketing department, taking seven hostages. They demanding an increased commission on the newest Youth Rejuvenating Face Cream, and a cappuccino machine.

In a surprising act of brotherhood the shipping and receiving department grabbed two forklifts from the warehouse and put all of the office workers cars on the roof. Swearing they would stay there until the sales staff's demands were met, and the company agreed to buy fresh donuts every Friday.

Corporate negotiators arrived armed with leather brief cases, Gucci suits, expensive Italian shoes, and some of the nicest watches anybody had ever seen. Everybody had ample time to see the watches, because the negotiators kept glancing at them. As though they were late for something more pressing than the release of seven hostages in the Marketing department.

After hours of tense meetings, thinly veiled threats, and some of the most delicious pizza the company any of them could remember negotiations broke down. They were all confused about what to do next so they agreed to go back to work, and pay for the broken chair.

The Chairman sent a note thanking everybody, and everybody got a nice gift card to a local grocery store and a pint of Rejuvenating Cream. Everybody was happy, except the custodial staff, who were excluded from the negotiations, and didn't get any pizza.

In the Janitor's closet you could hear the ends of the wooden broom handles being whittled to a fine point, the scrape of chalk across a board as plans were drawn up. You could smell the anger, see it bubbling from under the plain, gray steel door.

They burst from the room, a rising tide of second shift fury ready to ransack the building leaving a mess that could never be cleaned. On a cart right outside the door they found a box of fresh fruit, and a carafe of freshly ground, freshly brewed hot coffee, and a small pitcher of fresh cream.

They looked up and down the narrow, dimly lit hall but no one was there. After having some fruit, and coffee they felt a little foolish, and went to work. The building had never been cleaner.

Weekends, coffee and the beast within.

Today is Friday. It is kind of a big deal to me. Though, most days my job is so easy and I like it so much the only real difference is the alarm clock and the coffee maker. Even when I wake up early on the weekend, a disturbing event that happens with increasing regularity, it isn't to the braying, intrusive sound of the alarm clock. And I have more choices in coffee. It makes for a pleasant start to a day.

Neither are without danger, though. Right now, for example, I am being stalked by a wild animal. Oh, he is a wily one, that one.

One time, without warning, he took the cookie right out our shipping guy's hand. Unless you count the jumping, and bouncing and attempting to grab the cookie out of his hand as a warning.

Occasionally, without provocation he will just get up and move to a spot of the floor where the sun's rays are shining through, spreading warmth, and a feeling of well being. You really have to be on your toes.  It's a jungle around here.

And if you are a cardboard box you might as well not make any plans for the future.

So, today is my kind of day. Tomorrow is my kind of day, too. Both of them come complete with my kind of coffee, because I am not really all that fussy. About my days,or my coffee.

How to Love The NFL.

There is an old joke, “what is the difference between the NFL and the Houses of Congress?” The NFL is filled with people making enormous amounts of money doing something of no benefit to anyone… Wait, I think that was suppose to be Congress is filled with… I think I forgot the punchline, or the riddle. Either way, this time of year it is important to be able to talk about the NFL, the playoffs, and the teams involved. You should be able to throw in a few terms like “blitz” “zone coverage,” “post route,” and “super bowl commercials.”

“Hey, Bob, did you see that game between the Cowboys and the Vikings? It was a close game, with a lot of blitz, and zone and post routing. Fortunately for the Cowboys they played on land, had it been on sea the Vikings and their vastly superior knowledge of ocean going vessels would have won in a rout. Please hand me the French Vanilla aerated non dairy creamer, and the a couple of packets of all natural, saccharine free artificial sweetener.”

In that one sentence you have convinced Bob that your a knowledgeable professional football fan with a firm grasp of Nordic history and tradition who is careful about what he puts in his coffee. And you still have “super bowl commercials” stashed safely away. An ace in the hole. Soon people will be coming to you for pregame analysis, in game commentary and post game autopsy. 

This is an awesome responsibility. You must temper what you say. No matter your personal opinion you shouldn’t say things like “Bob, your team got waxed, they played like a bunch of old women waiting on a bus. Which is ok because I hate them, if they never won again it would be too soon. If they played the Black Plague I would root against them.” People get upset about those kinds of statements. In many ways they identify so closely with the teams it becomes like an attack on their person. In essence, they assume, you just said you like a medieval disease spread by flea infested rats and  killed 60% of the population of Europe more than you like them. Which is kind of hurtful.

And after your showy, pretentious display of Scandinavian history people are going to assume you understand the awful implications of invoking such a dreadful scourge. In a way you are a real jerk! What did Bob ever do to you anyway? You know what, you can get your own dammed coffee creamer.

I made a new friend.

This morning, I went to the kitchen, and as is normally the case, I emptied the dishwasher, and made coffee. On the counter was a cup, turned upside down. Thinking maybe somebody trapped a spider underneath it I just left it alone. Grappling with a spider is no way to start your week.

Attached to the coffee maker, though, was a note, "Don't move coffee cup, an ancient, evil demon of the Moloch variety(the abomination of Annon, the devourer of children, and the innocent) is trapped under there. I accidentally released it opening recently discovered artifacts. I will dispose of it first thing Monday, Bob, Archaeology." Helpfully, it had an arrow drawn that was pointed in the direction of the overturned cup.

That was quite a relief, it wasn't a spider.

"Hey," I asked, "how's it going under there?"

"It's OK, I thought by now you would have better drinking vessels, this is not much of an
improvement from Babylon, though the high gloss finish would make it easier to clean, I suppose. And I love the decorative, contrasting rings, they really add a nice touch." He answered very politely.

"Oh, and that is bigger than the average coffee mug," I assured him. "It is Pamela's, she works in Customer Service, and it is quite a trip from the kitchen to her cubicle."

"What's a cubicle?" He asked.

"Oh, it is like a little room, with short, movable, carpet covered walls. It gives the illusion of privacy, and significance without providing either. We have hundreds of them on every floor, and people come and occupy them every day, working at various tasks. All designed to advance the greater good of the company, and provide profits for the shareholders and upper management."

"Sounds like hell, and I would know," He said and we both laughed.

"Hey, do you want to see one?" I asked.

"No, I told Bob I would wait here. But, if you could put one of those donuts under the cup I would be very grateful, I haven't had a bite to eat in over 5,000 years."

"Sure," I said, sliding a donut under the mug. "Hey, if you get out, I am on the third floor, down at the west end of the building, I am the one doing all the work, you can't miss me, my name is Tim."

"If Bob has time we will swing by and see you in action, Tim, Thanks for the donut."

You know, sometimes Monday is not so bad.

Saturday, at last.

After a week of constant interruptions, and painful work Saturday is finally here. Work has been so awful, so busy, so filled with work it was like having a real job. To top it off I have come down with a cold, and not just any cold, this is a life threatening cold, possibly the beginning of the pandemic cold foretold in ancient cave drawings found in Indonesia and just recently deciphered by the Life Explained Department of Archeology. The drawings foretell of a head cold that will cause such suffering, coughing and sneezing, disrupting sleep and consuming such an alarming consumption of tissues that the natural balance will be skewed, and mankind shall perish. If that is the case I would like to apologize for starting the end, so to speak.
 
Anyway, I decided to change things a little this morning. To start I downloaded the Facebook and Twitter app on my Surface PC/Tablet. This is an attempt to streamline my digital life, or try something different, I’m not sure. Of course, the problem is I have the internet browser “remember” my passwords for most sites. It saves me all of the difficulty of remembering my username and password. Life is filled with trouble, and pressing needs flying in from every direction. With all of this madness how can a person be expected to remember passwords.
 
Fortunately, there are contingencies. Unfortunately they involve resetting your password with a code
sent to you. You can choose email, text message, or psychic connection. I chose text, and after accessing my Facebook and Twitter accounts via freshly downloaded apps I felt pretty successful.
 
Then I realized my online life is still pretty uneventful, even when viewed through the prism of desktop apps. I thought “maybe I should find some important achievement accomplished during this trying, laborious week.” I couldn’t. So I decided to write a blog post about the success I had installing the apps this morning. Hooray.
 
If you should get a lethal head cold, I am sorry. And if you find yourself in need of an expert app installer, I am sorry. But, if you need anything else, I’m your guy, as long as it is not too difficult, it has been a long week.

The Birth Of TrashBall.

"Hey, you know what would be great? A steaming cup of freshly brewed coffee, you know, grind the beans, the whole works."  Jeffrey asked, up to his elbows in a centrally enhanced fusion generator.

He was literally up to his elbows, this was a big generator, had it not been for Jeffrey's "little accident" it would have powered a small city using diet Coke and Mentos.

But, as is so often the case with research, technology and the rapidly advancing pace of technological innovation Jeffrey, and I bit off a little more than we could chew. 

"That sounds great, but we have a lot to do to get this thing operational before the demonstration with ConEd tomorrow." I replied, thinking how much a cup of coffee would hit the spot. "Hey, we have the that small worm hole down in the lab, what if we shot the ingredients, the grinder, two mugs and instructions to ourselves last week when we were waiting on the Coordinated Wheel Bashings? We had time then, remember the coffee we had on Wednesday. Man, that was great." I swooned a little just thinking about it.

"That was great coffee. And that is a great idea. Plus, think of the potential benefits. We can send back the data to ourselves when we had time to analyze it and make sense of the numbers." Jeffrey said, the excitement making his voice tremble, and his hands shake a little.

This had the potential for a real breakthrough. We could double our productivity without hiring any more people, analyze data before it was even available, make decisions based on experiments that had yet to be performed, and get fresh, hot coffee. The potential was limitless.

We packaged up some coffee beans, a French press, a Grinder, two mugs, and wrote a nice note to ourselves. "Please make us some coffee, and send it back through time to yourselves in the future. No cream, or sugar. Thank you." We signed our names so we would know it was us.

We tossed it into the Space Time Eddy in the lab. And as soon as it went in one of the cups came
flying out smashing into Jeffrey's face and breaking his new glasses. Then the note, dripping coffee and crumpled around the used grounds flew out and splatted against his white lab coat, with a insulting sound of pulling your foot out of wet cement. It left a stain that looked like he had been shot and bled coffee coffee.

The note had been written over with the words "make your owned damned coffee, losers." Man, we were jerks last week.

Jeffrey quit when the company wouldn't pay for his glasses. Enhanced fusion died on the vine, and the game of Trashball was born. We added the compressed air cannon because you really need to put some distance on it, or it comes shooting right back out.

Judging situations by coffee,

Beginning tomorrow, you will no longer be able to have a cigarette at Starbucks, anywhere, even on the patio.  They have decided to ban smoking within 25 feet of their business.   Of course, that is a business move based on customer satisfaction surveys, and the general trend lately has been to plant the flag of a business squarely in the non-smoking camp.  It was the will of the people, and the people were thrilled.


























Recently, Starbucks admitted to using water from a faucet located a few feet from a urinal in a "dingy bathroom" in Hong Kong.  They have apologized for this, but it was the only source of water in the vicinity.  And it was marked "drinking water, for Starbucks only."  People were not happy.  One person, posting on the Starbucks Hong Kong Facebook Wall insisted that they "fire the idiot who thought up" this unique solution to the water supply dilemma.







In many ways this is a perfect example of life.  One minute you are enjoying a latte while surfing the web in a hip, smoke free, wifi hotspot, living the good life.  The next you are drinking coffee made with water from a dingy bathroom, barely big enough for a sink and a urinal.  Enjoy the good times, keep your head down and try to hurry through the rough parts.  And always remember the gas pedal is on the right, and the brake is the smaller one on the left, that will save you a lot of troubles.  If there is a third pedal consult the manual, it might be decorative, what other explanation is there?

A new commercial, new revenue streams and the ongoing saga of #FixThePlus.

Exciting news, we are getting ready to begin production on the next Life Explained commercial. It will be huge. So big, in fact, we are going to call it an "Infomercial." Of course that is after the legal department clears the term. We are not planning on going real heavy on the Info, and concentrating mostly on the Mercial part. Nobody really watches television for information.

Preliminary reports indicate two "quantifiable iotas" of information will be enough. Last time we checked we are safely at three and a half (as long as we are allowed to count the dancing zombies as a Health Feature)* so we should be covered.

Anyway, we have the idea all mapped out, sort of. It is going to be about the mysteries of life, kind of. And how we are working so hard to explain them, maybe.

Anyhow, we have the app all picked out for production, at least we have it narrowed down to one or two, well maybe three. They all have benefits, and drawbacks, but we may end up using all of them, who knows.

And, we have the theme music all picked out, at least we have the list narrowed down to 7 or 9 songs, no more than 11, anyway. It might be a montage, a sort of progressive fading, flowing, looping thing. It is too early to tell.

We are selling advertising, if anybody is interested in placing a commercial inside our commercial. Just let us know. We will be at Starbucks™ (maybe Starbucks would like to advertise here) later if you want to buy us a coffee and talk.

Storyboarding will begin after coffee, and maybe donuts, or a breakfast burrito.

Lights, Camera, wait, hold on a minute.

What we do have is this new Digislate Clapperboard app from Wimbledon Sound, and it makes us feel like big time movie people.

Now all we need is an idea for an infomercial, a decision on which video app to use, a music selection and we are on our way.

*We are still casting the dancing zombies by the way, so if you are not technically alive and can bust a move give us a call.

Here is what we have so far.

James Polk, and Coffee, Get A Cup.

Doctor Dawg, in his zeal to raise money the old fashioned way, by peddling other people's crap, has called on some old friends to help him out.

We are talking old friends, in this case 220 years old. A person whose exalted position and unquestionable character have made him a natural for the job of brand spokes person.

Without further ado, let's introduce the 11th president, James K. Polk.

Tune in tomorrow, when George Washington tells us about lip balm, crossing the Delaware was difficult, trying and really dehydrating, and nobody can concentrate on conducting military operations with dry, cracked lips.

Bought to you by The Vote For Doctor Dawg, it is your only hope" campaign and bakery, where the promises are always fresh, and the donuts are always delicious.

Friday, and we are out of ideas.

There is a change in the air. The nights are cooler and more comfortable. Mornings are crisp, and wonderful, and the days are pleasant. But, life goes on, and carries with it the same problems and concerns. But, that is for another time, a different blog, today I am going to rejoice in Friday.

Friday is a day of hope, and release. It is important that you start Friday with the right mood. So, on my trip to work I started with "Come the Day" by Holly Go Lightly. It is important to set the tone, and nobody does it with more authority.

At work I chose coffee, and a tall glass of iced water. This is pretty normal, I try to drink a lot of water, but the unique part was the coffee, I chose the Starbucks Spring blend. Bold choice I know, but it was what I found in my "Stash of gourmet coffee." And it was delicious, with a bold coffee flavor that brings to mind a cup of hot coffee, and a surprising aftertaste of hot coffee, it was the right start.
























Breakfast was Quaker Warm and Crunchy Cranberry Almond Granola, with a sprinkling of muesli and dried fruit. Tasty warm and healthy enough I won't get in trouble with my doctor. A breakfast sure to help you power through the day.




For my fashion choice I went with a faded, grungy pair of denim shorts, in a blue almost white hue. This was remarkably offset by a bold royal blue Blendon Bulldogs shirt, In stark contrast is a Nebraska Cornhuskers lanyard to hold my security card. Sometimes I clip writing instruments, and spare binder clips to this as well. It is a handy tool to carry your life through a busy day, as well as...

Wait! This is ridiculous, I know sometimes ideas are hard to come by, but this is a new low, well maybe not as low as some lows this blog has seen.

Tune in next week when we will return to your regularly scheduled programming. Nice shirt, though, huh?

Labor Day, Swappers, It Was Humid, Hot, and Fun

It was a great day, with a great breakfast, a really great breakfast, and the coffee was wonderful, so rich, dark, steaming, you could see the flavor wafting up from the cup, oh man was the coffee good. after that it was only a twenty minute drive up the highway to the Johnstown Swappers Days. Free parking, in a pasture, buzzing with mosquitoes,  a short walk across the field and the road, five dollars for admittance and we were immersed in a ninety degree day, high humidity and a crowded, far flung, wild west flea market.

It was a hectic, crazy, chaotic day filled with a variety of booths, selling everything from tools to bottle openers, to rabbits to hunting dogs. And weapons, tables full of weapons. I have been on hunting trips with people who weren't so well armed. People were walking around with rifles, shotguns, sidearms. It is amazing how careful a person treads when dealing with hundreds of armed people, mutual assured destruction on a personal scale.











After this trip I can feel comfortable saying 2nd amendment rights are very well protected. Including the right to bear arms, to trade them openly, to bicker endlessly in public about the price of the weapons.

Amish people are pretty safe as well. They were well represented, and heavily involved in the trading that took place. Plus, they were using cell phones. This seemed a little surprising.






















It was a great day, there were too many booths to see them all
in the oppressive heat and sweltering humidity, but we ended up looking at most of them. And fully intend to go back next year with the hope that it is a little cooler, and more comfortable. We are very confident the breakfast will be good anyway,

Health is important, but what about free will?

It is Saturday, and rainy, and early, and I am up, heading for my second cup of coffee. There was a study that indicated five cups of coffee every day was optimal for your health.  It may have been dis-proven since then, it is hard to say, but, we here at Life Explained didn't care.  We had taken it as gospel, as incontrovertible proof of a kind, gentle higher being, a caring, loving deity concerned only with our welfare.

There was a mad dash to buy bigger "cups."  Imagine our dismay when we found out mugs, and cups could be completely different. Imagine the crushing heartache when we discovered a cup was not a generic term applied to any bucket sized jug of sweet, glorious, French Roast. Consider the despair when we learned that some of our new coffee "cups" actually held 5 1/2 cups of coffee.

A few of the more aggressive among us were approaching 19 cups of coffee a day, and some of them were fighting over almost anything. An uncontrollable white rage that would burn white hot for a few minutes and turn into weeping, apologizing and remorse. It was hard to believe this was "healthy."

We had to hire a security company to monitor our coffee, making sure everybody got 5 cups, no more, no less.

It got a little tense when we discovered some of us just don't care for coffee.  After an armed standoff in the 5th floor break room, when Bob refused to drink his 5th cup, saying he would rather "die early than drink one more cup of this swill."

After a few tense hours, some exchange of small arms fire, and reinforcements from Jet Propulsion Laboratory besieging the compound (those scientists really stick together), we decided that forcing people to drink 5 cups of coffee a day may not be that healthy after all. Maybe people would be happier and healthier if they could drink what and how much they choose.

We bought some tea, some bottled water, and people seem a lot happier. But, there is news that red wine will help people live longer.  That is a bit of health news we can really support, thank goodness for research.

Breaking News, and a video instead of pictures.

We here at Life Explained are taking a break from bringing you our lives represented in pictures, sort of (don't worry, we will be back to that drivel as soon as we figure out how to operate "Enlight" our new iPhone photo app, which does a lot of things, which makes it a little confusing). We needed to report on a disturbing new invasive species.

Right here in Central Ohio we have uncovered a threat to the continued existence of Mankind.  Where this threat came from is unclear, how it arrived is vague, and what we are going to do to combat it is uncertain.  But. why it is here is easy to understand.

That's right, coffee loving robots from space, or the future, (or maybe France, who knows?) are coming in droves and overrunning Starbucks, Speedways, BPs, First Watch and all places that serve cups of delicious, steaming hot, tasty coffee and slamming down the vital, essential elixir of life, free refills, and all.  

Nobody knows where this will all end.  People can get a little cranky without their coffee, and if they drink all of the Diet Coke next my wife will go ballistic.  Stay tuned, we will have updates, and advice, and more "news."

Also, we will have some cool movie trailers, and more video.  At this point we should probably thank the good people of Apple, Inc. for including iMovie with the iPhone 6, that is one seriously cool app. Man, technology can be fun.