WHY AREN’T YOU LAUGHING?

Here’s some good news and bad news.  My sainted wife doesn’t get nearly as upset by my often goofy remarks anymore which is the good news.  The bad news is that her otolaryngologist says she doesn’t hear as well as she used to.

For your information, an otolaryngologist is an ear specialist; I know this because I looked it up.

In any case, I thought my sainted wife was merely ignoring me but, alas, she was unable to hear me.

I mistakenly thought my hilarious jokes were, in fact, unfunny; they weren’t.

So we packed a lunch and some extra water and fuel cans for our trip to the nearest otolaryngologist, which was roughly the distance of half the Sahara Desert away.  Yeah!

Four days later, we arrived for the hearing test.

The doctor came out to summon her.  “Is Uncle Paul’s sainted wife here?”

After nearly 30-seconds of silence, she again stated – in a slightly louder voice, “IS UNCLE PAUL’S SAINTED WIFE HERE?!?”

I had to nudge her arm and gesture that someone was looking for her.

Smiles abounded and she disappeared with the doctor behind the sliding glass doors.

It wasn’t long before she re-emerged with her normal stoic expression.

I immediately knew the news was not good.

When she reached me, I stood to greet her and asked if she was all done with the examination.

Then I again said, “ARE YOU DONE?”

She poked me in the ribs and grimaced.

Just outside she said she would be just fine if she could extract some nasty wax from her ears.  According to the doctor, it seems as though this stuff was creating a dam in her ear canal and was easily remedied by a daily application of some baby oil and a warm compress, augmented by a plumber’s plunger.  A small plumber’s plunger, I might add.

That last genius technique was all my idea.  But I digress.

A few days of squirting that concoction into her ears proved to be a medical miracle.

The good news is her hearing is again good, and my jokes are once again, funny.

The bad news is my brilliant idea for her wedding anniversary gift is now no longer superior.  I had an ear megaphone already selected.

Alas.

Let Them Eat Cake

Just as I do every day, I was waiting at the airport and I began thinking about cakes.

I sit at the terminal waiting to espy Jon Stewart, Chelsea Handler, Lena Dunham, Keegan-Michael Key, Al Sharpton, Spike Lee, Samuel L. Jackson, Cher, George Lopez, Barbra Streisand, Amy Schumer, Ruth Bader Ginsberg, and Mylie Cyrus, all of whom promised to leave the United States if Donald Trump was elected President.

He was, and I have yet to catch a glimpse of any of these phonies departing.  Alas.

In any case, as I said, I was thinking about cakes when a monitor in the terminal ran a CNN story about Jack Phillips.

Mr. Phillips is a baker who specializes in over-the-top wedding and special event cakes.  In fact, they are more works of art than confectionary goods.

Some time ago a gay couple desperately desired Mr. Phillips to design and bake a cake for their husband and husband marriage.

Mr. Phillips, a devout Christian, declined because his religious sect did not allow for marriage to occur between anyone other than a man and woman, period.

Rather than thanking Mr. Phillips for his time and finding another bakery, this pair felt it necessary to attempt to financially ruin Mr. Phillips and his bakery by filing a discrimination lawsuit.

This couple, Charlie Craig and David Mullins, took their case to the Colorado Civil Rights Commission. The free thinking commission ruled against Phillips, and a Colorado appeals court agreed.

Well, the United States Supreme Court took this case and overturned the judgment against Phillips because it violated Mr. Phillips’ Constitutional Rights.

You see, everybody wound up with hurt feelings, and you can be wrong even though you throw a legal tantrum.  In this case, the Supreme Court felt government officials treated Phillips’ religious beliefs as mere rhetoric, pooh-poohing his long-standing rights.

This is when I began to use logic.  I’ve only been to Colorado once on business, and although I simply love blueberry cake doughnuts with a light powder sugar glaze, I hadn’t had the opportunity or drive to visit any bakery, much less Jack Phillips’ bakery.

However, I’ll wager my retirement check there is more than just one bakery in Colorado.  And if a bakery refused to make a cake of any sort for me – or sell me blueberry doughnuts – I’d be glad to take my business elsewhere involving no legal action.

In fact, Lowe’s refused to serve me in their window treatment department; I made my displeasure known and haven’t been back.  Nor will I return even if they sell artificial hearts and I need one to continue living and kvetching.  But I digress.

Husband and husband Charlie and David should have simply gone to one of the other Colorado bakeries to order a cake for their special day.  But no.  They opted for notoriety and revenge.

Now the sour grapes Left is publishing “what-ifs,” such as what if an atheist baker refuses service to evangelical Christians?

Here’s a thought: If those hypothetical Christians had any sense of self-worth they would take their trade to a bakery that appreciates the rights and wishes of the baker while respecting and celebrating diversity.

Get over it.

The Culicidae Are Back

More than regularly we, on the Eastern Shore, are bombarded with advertisements to visit this special place.

These ads are laden with pictures of families frolicking on the beaches, playing in the water, dining in any one of seemingly countless restaurants, and herds of free-roaming horses.

But for some reason these Madison Avenue-types the Shore’s most prolific creature is invariably omitted.  The Culicidae are those oft-neglected bugs, otherwise known as mosquitoes.

In the unlikely event you’ve never left your domicile, or you reside in Antarctica, you have either seen of been bitten by – or both – by a mosquito.

I’ve written about these things before but, today we’re going to address their positive side.

For some reason mosquitoes are viewed as pests that not only bite, they also carry diseases to humans and pets, alike.

Actual size, almost

Mosquitoes breed by laying eggs in standing stagnant water.  And only the female mosquitoes bite.  It seems they use the extracted blood from their bite to help their eggs develop. 

Since the males don’t lay eggs – you should have paid more attention in your biology class – they tend to bite fruits and drink dew from vegetation.

The lifespan for a mosquito is roughly 50-days, in the event the bitee doesn’t have reflexes conducive to rendering the female mosquito flat.

Because water is a key element in their breeding, it is important to leave plenty of undisturbed water in old tires, birdbaths, and plant saucers.  Without those amenities, the population would sadly diminish.

Many people attempt to ward off mosquitoes by applying anti-bug sprays and wipes.  Sometimes they work, sometimes not. 

They also deploy devices that emit carbon monoxide in an effort to attract mosquitoes.  Once in the device, the hapless mosquitoes become stuck to a glue loaded panel to which they become attached.  Eventually they die.  Alas.

For your information, mosquito bites leave a welt because their proboscis injects a blood anticoagulant to better allow their victims’ blood to flow.  Most humans are allergic to that anticoagulant, hence the reaction in the form of a welt.  You’re welcome.

In any case, mosquitoes are very entertaining while they buzz your ears and fly behind your eyeglasses.  My favorite skeeter activity is when you climb into your car and a half-dozen quickly fly in with you.

They so badly wanted to be there with you.

It’s kind of like the neighbor’s dog that, every day when you pass by their house, the dog jumps off the porch and violently chases your car down the road.  This is a daily event continues until one day when the dog, snarling and barking, shows teeth and angry eyes during the chase, catches your car – teeth fully implanted in the bumper, paws being used like brakes.

Now that the car has been caught, what does the dog do with it?  But I digress.

So those mosquitoes are now inside your vehicle and you need to spend the next few minutes trying to quiet them down.  Sure, they’re pretty annoying bouncing off the windshield and side windows now desperately trying to get back out.  I find all this genuine entertainment, though.

Local officials can’t seem to find money to pay for spraying, so maybe it’s time to view mosquitoes in a more favorable light.  These County executives seem to think we live in the Commonwealth’s Official Mosquito Hatchery.  They’re wrong.

The way I see it there are two solutions to this situation.

Since their lifespan is about 50-days, simply wait them out.  Plan B would be to move to Antarctica.

Emotional Bankruptcy

Nearly daily I find a story somewhere about how smart today’s kids are.  They are touted as geniuses, and the direction of the world in which we live is placed squarely upon their shoulders.

So it was with interest that I read a newspaper article regarding twenty-somethings, who just entered the workforce, having an ardent desire to change things in our workplaces.

These young pukes with no institutional knowledge or subject matter expertise feel that, after only a few months on the job, they believe they could easily replace their bosses.

It seems as though this brain trust just wants to get things done.  Forget legal and ethical hurdles, we just need to do it and move on to the next crisis.

This is evident in their goofy stance on the First Amendment and Second Amendment, and which ever Amendment that represents abortion.  JUST DO IT!

Keep in mind this is the same generation that has been unable to personally communicate with one another, in public, because they are too involved with their tech toys.

Green energy?  Just force people to use it.  Better gas mileage?  Simply make cars of papier maché.  Can’t afford health insurance?  Compel your neighbor to pay for yours.  All very simple solutions from equally simple minds.

Most of these sheltered losers feel they are superior to the rest of America because they “paid their dues” by going to school and graduating.

Unfortunately, throughout their beginning formative years, they have been mollycoddled by sympathetic teachers and parents, alike, for the sake of protecting their tiny feelings and overly-sensitive egos.

When they disapprove of a countering viewpoint or contrary idea they protest until their desires are met.  If they dislike election results these whiners walk out of school to make their feelings known, in hopes of changing the results.

In other words, they merely want to be protected throughout life because of lessons they learned early in life.

Pandering politicians gave them “free” breakfasts, “free” lunches, “free” afterschool activities.  They played sports with taxpayers footing the bill for uniforms and travel expenses.  Some kids wanted to be in the band and you and I paid for that trombone they used.

Now they want a free college education and more protection from what they deem “hate speech.”

To help these snowflakes better adjust – the ones whose tans came from the basement light – are being assisted by none other than Penn State.

The university’s offices of Student Affairs and Risk Management (no lie, they really have enough money for this joke of an office,) “made a determination that hiking, camping and other outdoors-focused activities the student-led club has long engaged in are too risky.

Yes.  This 98-year old Penn State Outing Club made that announcement in an effort to protect their overly-vulnerable student body.

I would hope Penn State’s coffee shops have temperature cops on duty to ensure their products are not excessively hot.

Lastly, America’s high schools are quietly eliminating analog clocks from classrooms and hallways.

Analog clocks are those with a round dial with a large minute hand, a smaller hour hand, and often a thin second hand.  Remember those?

The time is 3:07, kids.

It was discovered that these mini-geniuses are too stupid to tell time without a digital clock with actual numerals such as 3:07.

Some think this if fine because their cell phones all have digital clocks so no harm, no foul.

Think about this story the next time teachers go on strike because they need more money.  Judging by these results, perhaps they’re overpaid.

And just wait until these Einstein’s end up in the workforce.  They won’t be able to function without special protection in the form of a helmet, and a blankie to go with those milk and cookie snacks.

We have succeeded in making a mess of America.

Counterfeit Food

Some years ago I had a neighbor who was not only attractive and successful, but also wacky.

Upon meeting and getting past introductions, my sainted wife and I invited her over for dinner.

“I’m a vegan,” she proudly announced.

I immediately began surreptitiously attempting to check to see if she possessed teeth.

They were pearly white thereby indicating she was more than able to chew meat.

What can you really say to someone who feels guilty about eating food?

In all honesty, the word “vegan” is an old Indian term for “poor hunter.”

This is as good a place as any to point out there are varying degrees of veganism.

Dietary vegans refrain from consuming animal products, not only meat but also eggs, dairy products and other animal-derived substances. 

An ethical vegan is who not only follows a vegan diet but extends their philosophy into other areas of their lives, and oppose the use of animals for any purpose.

Then there is environmental veganism which I believe can be cured with psychotropic drugs and electro-shock therapy.  But I digress.

If at this spot you’re thinking, ‘If I visit some chicken joint, chickens will soon become an endangered species,’ you’d be wrong.

Each day there are roughly 1,000,000,000 chickens transformed from filthy animals into scrumptious food for the entire world; Cows are not far behind.  Personally, I try to devour as many of each as possible to help prevent animal flatulence from ruining the environment from irreparable damage.  You’re welcome.

But the true issue is that this neighbor came by and refused dinner based on the fact she was abstaining from anything but lettuce and kale and such.

She excused herself and went home, only to return with a package of chicken parts.  I was confused, to say the least.

Neighbor lady explained this cellophane pack of fowl was derived from “free range chickens.”  Evidently, free range chickens are fair game for vegans because they can roam about without being confined by fences.

It’s my understanding that farmers without fences were called “poor.”

In any case, a few weeks later, she came by again while I was cooking out. This time she brought some sushi-grade tuna to join our festivities.  At this juncture I gave up trying to analyze this bad dream.

Tofu burger.  MMMMMMMMM!!!

And all this came back to my mind because while shopping for groceries today, I noticed there were soy bean and pine needles fashioned into fake hamburgers.  The picture on the box made the burger look tasty and juicy.

The claim on the box was that these phony hamburgers not only looked like real beef, but also tasted like real beef.  But why?  They cost nearly twice as much as the real thing; not what I would consider a bargain.

If I was attempting to avoid meat, fish, milk, and the like, I would not want to consume anything resembling a beef or pork product. 

I just talked myself into a fried pork chop.

See you next week.

Absolutely Hilarious

Rodney Dangerfield has always been one of my favorite comedians.  Even if you didn’t see his bulging-eyes and his totally surprised expression, he had that special timing and voice-inflection that made his deliveries funny.  That is my humble opinion.

With Rodney gone to the Great Beyond, I have been searching for an equally amusing act that would make me laugh almost as much.  Throughout the years I have been big fans of the Three Stooges, and the Marx Brothers, alike, which round out my top three funny bone ticklers.

Alas, all are now deceased.

Fortunately, I have discovered a hilarious bunch of comical showmen that can be seen both in-person, on television, and in print.  And most of them are still alive.

Help me welcome the Ocean City, Maryland, Town counsel, and Maryland environmental groups.

This is where all you readers must applaud, and stand, if you feel it is deserved.

In my local newspaper, I noticed a true – as opposed to fake – news story about drinking straws in the April 11^th edition.  Yeah, those plastic tubes that are used to sip liquid from your drink.  Drinking straws.

I quickly decided to check to see how well Ocean City, Maryland was being managed, and here is what I found:

When looking at violent crimes, Ocean City, MD has 168% higher than violent crime rate than Maryland average, while remaining 227% higher than the national average. In property crime, Ocean City, MD is 558% higher than the average of Maryland and is 513% higher than the national average.

Wow!

I’m not going to try and quote an on-line story from foodsafetynews.com about waiters and waitresses handling drinking glasses and dirty dishes and money, alike.  Something boring called cross-contamination is mentioned therein, which should be avoided to prevent serious gastrointestinal illness.  But I digress.

Still, in a front page, above-the-fold article, this newspaper proudly touted ardent efforts from environmentalists to eliminate drinking straws from Ocean City, Maryland.  Their brain trust claim “a lot of resort towns that have done this program” could have an impact on the beaches.

Yeah!

This is the part of the story where I throw a knuckleball.

It seems as though these self-appointed buttinskis are not only annoying, but also phonies.

While the Town of Ocean City cheers the elimination of dinking straws, thereby curtailing dire problems clearly affecting the environment, they sing a decidedly different song when it comes to really helping the environment.

In the April 19^th edition of this same rag, a guest columnist writes about countering the Town’s desire to kill the placement of common sense, clean, renewable energy.

For years, we have heard all the propaganda about how the pious environmentalists among us are yearning for ways to reduce CO2, smog, wildly using irreplaceable fossil fuels, and intentionally crippling the nuclear power efforts in America.

Maryland offers financial incentives for electric and hybrid car purchases, too.  Maryland offers an Excise Tax Credit of $125 per kilowatt-hour of battery capacity up to a maximum of $3,000 for Electric Vehicle or Plug-in Hybrid.  Pretty sweet if you want to succumb to guvment wrangling.

But now that wind turbines being placed in the Atlantic Ocean, off the coast of Maryland – within view of Ocean City – those all-important environmental issues are deemed null and void.

The reason these Town phonies are lying across the proverbial railroad tracks to stop this clean energy initiative is that these windmills would simply spoil the view for vacationers and residents.

That sounds pretty selfish to me. And funny.

Requiesat in Pace

Over the past nine years, we have looked at quite a number of serious and not-so-serious goings-on in this world.

We wrote about Sears, Montgomery Ward, Ford Motor Company, The Home Depot, and a host of other businesses that have spat upon its customers, with a smile.  In case you were wondering, that fake grin they issue doesn’t hold any sway with me.

I went to those stores and, in good faith, bought merchandise that wound-up being defective, faulty, mis-sized, or otherwise unfit for consumption.

Add to that list of self-important, now-extinct merchants, businesses that simply refuse to deal with those pesky, unwashed among the masses: wannabe customers.

Gander Mountain is one of those businesses that refuses to even talk to its customers, Lowe's is one, and Cheaper-Than-Dirt is another.  That’s allright by me. 

You see, if you don’t like my company and money, you may sell your junk to someone else.  I, however, have something called pride.  You will not treat me like garbage and get my business; it’s one or the other, but not both.

We're smarter than you R!

So we have finally arrived at the gist of this commentary, Toys-R-Us.

It was recently announced that Toys-R-Us is going out-of-business, not because they are selling too much.  Rather, they are not selling enough.

In a trip down memory lane, our WABAC machine arrived at October 1994.  It was there that, just as today, a series of shootings led to Toys-R-Us banning the sale of toy guns.  I know this because I found a New York Times article from October 1994, whose headline read: Shootings Lead Chain to Ban Toy Guns.  That chain was Toys-R-Us.

It seems as though some serious hand-wringing was going on among police, politicians, and readers of The New York Times, alike.  Public pressure was mounting, and the obvious solution was to target toy guns.

Much like the National Rifle Association and “assault rifles” are today’s scapegoat targets, toy guns were moved to the front of American activism by the “Do Something” crowd.

And Toys-R-Us was glad to help.

I grew up with the neighborhood kids playing with realistic toy weapons of war.  I had a Thompson submachine gun made of plastic, with which I dispatched our same-age enemies during our regular battles of our idea of war.

Other kids had varying rifles and plastic handguns which accepted “caps.”  Those caps made the BANG, a supply which was usually exhausted after the first day on-the-job.  Thereafter, we would simply yell “BANG!”

We all had fun and found this exercise in out-flanking the opposing side, and winning though outsmarting our buddies, gratifying.

Immediately thereafter, we would call a truce and down some celebratory lemonade or chocolate milk.  In any case, we all remained friends after each and every skirmish.  And until this day, none of my friends, or I, killed anyone, shot up a school, or even committed any crime, period.

But Toys-R-Us, the toy store-turned social activist, wanted to do something.

What they did back in 1994 was to alienate two generations of Americans who innocently wanted to play “Army,” cowboys and Indians, and cops and robbers.  Toys-R-Us estranged loyal customers and prevented others from buying what they wanted, all in the name of making America safe.

Today’s headlines cry about their 30,000 employees, who will soon be jobless, and the massive void in the toy market, itself.

Unfortunately, the 1994 Toys-R-Us executives should have thought about ignoring the wants and desires of its customers instead of telling them what they want and what they need.

This is a good warning to those businesses not doing back flips for the attention of marching and protesting high schoolers who are currently making unrealistic demands.

Toys-R-Us, Rest in Peace.