Proud Parents

As a kid in school I was taught many things as gospel that later turned out to be absolutely false.

There are not nine planets, you will succeed with hard work, and survival of the fittest, are a few of those fallacies.

In case you missed it, astronomers decided Pluto was too small to be called a planet so, it was de-planetized.  In order to succeed, you merely need a good story and lack of personal responsibility to collect free food, housing, and cell phones.  And, survival of the fittest is not at all true; simply re-read the previous sentence.

Since the 1980’s, it was realized that California condors were not the ideal parents for which scientists had hoped.  At one point the estimated number remaining in the wild numbered 22.  All were captured and reared by humans.

You see, scientists placed sock puppets on their hands to mimic California condor mommies and daddies.  They would then feed the baby condors with meat, and conduct condor activities with the young’uns until they were capable of flying away to make their own baby California condors.  What could possibly go wrong?

This stellar idea was eventually proved stupid – even for a government program – after the birds that were released returned to the scientists’ homes for more raw meat and possibly bedtime stories.

Annual visits were noted with one scientist actually having his remote house burglarized by a flock of puppet-raised condors.  It seems as though eight of these feathered felons tore a hole in his screen door while he was out hiking.  Upon return, this scientist found his mattress shredded and one bird walking around with the brainiac’s underwear in its beak.  No lie.

Not to be outdone, the People’s Republic of Maryland has a program to similarly raise whooping crane chicks.  Yep, your tax dollars at work.

Scientists wearing white whooping crane costumes dressed themselves, and other researchers with no pride, before flying ultralight aircraft from Wisconsin to Florida.  This endeavor was an effort to build a migratory population of whooping cranes.

Fast forward 15 years.  This eastern population has grown to – drum roll, please – 100 birds, but with only 10 fledged chicks.  The St. Mark’s National Wildlife Refuge in northern Florida feel the culprit in this failed boondoggle, er, program was the fact that the cleverly disguised scientists were too involved in teaching the cranes how to survive in the wild.  Yep, too much teaching of how to survive.

The whooping crane scientists, and I’ll wager the California condor puppet parents, are helping gin-up good stories and coaching the birds about ways to get the government to give the fowl free food, housing, and cell phones.

I’m just saying…

Rest in Peace

Alas, we present a eulogy for another business billed as a “sporting goods store.”  This time the store in question is Sports Authority.

Firstly, this joint was mislabeled as a sporting goods store.

A sporting goods store should sell and/or service goods related to sports.  The Sports Authority does neither.

I visited a Sports Authority shop in January 2016.  I was the only customer in the building.

My quest was for fishing rod eyes that needed to be replaced on one of my salt water rods.

At the fishing department, there were five rods in a display, a glass case containing ten reels, and roughly 30 rubber baits hanging on the wall.

There were no eyes, no bait buckets, and no nets.  They did have a few cheesy hats, though.

Not to waste a trip, I searched for the hunting department.  There was none.  No bows, no arrows, no guns, no ammunition, no knives, and no need to keep that store open.

On the other hand, there were plenty of sneakers, shorts, and t-shirts.  Sweat pants and sneakers, and sweat shirts and sneakers.  Did I mention there were tons of sneakers?

Baseball gloves, balls, and bats were available, too.  It’s been a long time since I played baseball, so I was astonished to see the price of a baseball bat set at $39.95.  Apparently Alex Rodriguez shopped there.

Perhaps they would have more business if they renamed the store Sneakers and Overpriced Bats Authority.

By the way, Gander Mountain should take notes.

Pull My Finger

For some years now we have been hearing about the benefits of fiber.  Advertisers use words like “regular,” and “healthy.”  Those are code words.

In case you don’t use fiber, regular and healthy mean you’ll be in the bathroom quite often.  Regular describes the trips you’ll make – roughly every 1 ½ hours, and healthy means you will be sitting most of the day.  This is known as the laws of unintended consequences.  Or maybe not.  But, I digress.

A code word I now need to use is “offensive.”  That word describes the environment during, and immediately after, your visit to the porcelain convenience.

We have a spray ready and waiting for such emergencies.  But because I don’t do a lot of the grocery shopping that spray is marginal.

The aerosol can I picked up was labeled “fresh linen.”  Upon spraying, I realized that fresh linen smelled like nothing I had ever smelled before, and it was nearly ineffective.  Its weak aromatic properties force me to apply the fresh linen air neutralizer to the walls in the form of spray paint.

Finally being able to open the door, both my sainted wife and Smokey the cat became weak and were on the verge of fainting.

A new solution was in order.

This time I was going to make the selection from the air freshener department at my local supermarket.  There, I discovered why we had fresh linen flavor available on the toilet tank.

I came across such aerosols as “cashmere woods,” “summer rain,” and “Hawaiian breeze.”  None of those appealed to my thought association senses so I decided to try them out.

Hawaiian breeze smelled like pineapples with a touch of lime and mango, summer rain reminded me of a wet shower stall, while cashmere woods harkened me to damp sawdust in my workshop.

I opted for “pine vistas” which was the last air freshener I was allowed to spray before the store manager suggested it was time for me to leave his hoity-toity establishment.

Evidently this assortment of sprays was melding together to create an airborne ocean of smells that, when combined, resembled following a garbage truck.

The pine vistas odor eliminator was working well until my sainted wife complained it too closely resembled a Christmas tree.  I never knew her to be anti-fir, but you never really know someone.

On the other hand, Smokey enjoys anything better than unadulterated fiber results.  He’s even using it for his litter box, now.

Barbie

Just when I thought I had seen it all, I stand corrected.

Checking out the news the other day I noticed Mattel was introducing a new Barbie doll.  That in and of itself would not be anything exciting but, this is a new century with exciting changes.

Let’s begin with Barbie’s real name, Barbara Millicent Roberts.  No lie.

She was created in 1959, in time for my sister to get more than one Barbie doll during her childhood.  Christmas, birthdays, Easter, and practically any other time a gift was involved, so was a new Barbie doll.

Not without controversy, Barbie was created in a less than fact-based frame.  Yes, the world’s buttinski’s became involved because of her slim waist line and overly accentuated other features.  They were panned as unrealistic although none of the little girls playing with them noticed.

This was so troubling that a Barbie play bathroom scale was added in one of her dream houses.  It was permanently set at 110 pounds.  Evidently this was to appease people without lives.

Barbie eventually found a boyfriend in a fellow named Kenneth Carson, aka. Ken.  It seems as though Barbie and Ken have had an on-again, off-again relationship for decades leaving not one wrinkle on either of these lovers.

But political correctness joined Barbie in form of Colored Francie.  Again, controversy arose because there were no other real problems in 1967.

Apparently the doll Gestapo, upon close examination, realized Francie was made from the same mold as Barbie, only with a brown pigment added.  The lack of minority features to include less Caucasian features upset many making Colored Francie’s debut less successful than hoped for.

Meanwhile, Barbie accessories could be had for the beach, snow skiing, hiking, and even books for reading.  She was living large with her many dream houses and vehicles to include Corvettes, Jeeps, and even a trailer.  Perhaps that was for an upcoming Trailer Trash Barbie.

Speaking of which, a Barbie was issued with stick-on tattoos, including one for her lower back, known as a “tramp stamp.”  Let’s include everyone seems to be the theme here.

Because of the failure of Colored Francie, Mattel was determined to be all inclusive with their introduction of Oreo Fun Barbie.  Once again, the easily offended found trouble with the disturbing name.  No kidding.

Of course there were good things that came with owning Barbies.

My sister learned to sew by making outfits for Barbie, although her Barbie army always seemed to be naked.  I suppose she dressed them before they went out on the town to meet up with the rest of the crew.  There was Todd, Skipper, Stacie, and even Hispanic Teresa.

But now there is a new Barbie soon arriving for little girls – and boy, I guess – with which to play.

Evidently Mattel has given up on black versions of Barbie so “Hijarbie” is the latest of the Barbie group to hit the scene.  For real. 

Hijab-wearing Barbie is a Muslim doll that was created possibly to give the whiners of the doll world something about which to complain in the absence of race nitpicking.

Good luck with accessories for this doll.