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Hand Gone Missing

I drove past a hand this morning, lying plump in the sun.

It appeared to have the fullness of a detached hand sliced off from the wrist. But as I barreled past (there was an interstate to merge on) I convinced myself it was only an enhanced glove. I think I saw ridges of glove-cuff where the wrist should have been.

Yet what if it really were a hand, sliced cleanly at the radius and ulna? What could separate a man from his thumb and fingers and why would he just give them up? Surely he could limp along, hitching a ride with his one good hand. The hospital wasn't far off, and we all know what modern science can do.

Would you pick up a guy with a loose hand knocking about? Unless the blood was fresh and his shirt was soiled, I'd be suspicious, wouldn't you?

Spiders Live in Their Own Little World

When I woke up this morning and began to brush my teeth, I noticed a little spider had moved in just below the faucet.

Dude, this sink runs water, some of it piping hot, probably 25 times a day. Don't you do any recon?

Pop-Up Blogging...

I've got nothing to write... though I feel compelled to give you something, dear reader, just for dropping by. So here are the first five things to pop into my head:

1. New "Idol" Judge -- I liked her, though I had kinda decided beforehand that she would be too earnest, too eager, and superfluous. She hit the right note... and shocked me when I heard her pipes! Wow.

2. The Book of Judges -- I've gotta give a shout-out to my Sunday School class (though they don't read this blog) because though we are just getting started on this overlooked book of the O.T., it has been a fascinating and stimulating discussion.

3. New Mouse -- My new MacIntosh arrived on Friday, and it is humming. I'm not much of a mouse guy, preferring to be mobile and wire-free (I'm a real boy!). But Michael the IS guy hooked me up! And the new Mac mouse is pretty tricked out... so I'm evolving.

4. Mouseketeers -- They were pop-culture candy for a pre-ironic world. The group formed and disbanded twice and now candidates for such a clan are powerfully attracted to strange stunts on "American Idol."

5. Polka Dots -- Few can wear them and get away with it. I'm in some sleep pants with polkas now, but sadly, they're not for public consumption. That chick with the cow-top tonight on "Idol" made me wrinkle my brow at first, but I think she thrived in the land of polka.

Superheroes (and Their Foes) Can Be So Silly!

Riddle me this Batman, why is it that superheroes--apart from times when they are enjoying their secret identity--are always in full costume? It just doesn't make sense. Superman in his fortress of solitude: Think remote place, ice crystal walls, top-flight security... why doesn't he just walk around in some cords and a sweater? Why the spandex and cape? Or in the Halls of Justice--or whatever the Superfriends' HQ is called--why do you call each other by your first names, but dress to the nines in your unis? Don't tell me it's because you're "at work"--no one can get into your offices and you all know who's who in real life. Plus, you're fast enough to change in an emergency: think Flash, Superman, Green Lantern... and then install a couple of batpoles for the others. Maybe then you can wear something a bit more realistic. Business casual at the very least.

But here's the kicker: I checked out a few graphic novels over Christmas break--it had been awhile and I was inspired by an interview I saw with best-selling author Brad Meltzer who actually writes comics as well. In one of the books, Fantastic Four, they are battling a villain named Diablo. First, it's odd enough that Diablo would be in full costume at his super secret lair when he has no plans to go out... but second, and most surpising, there are a few panels where a normal guy is fitfully dreaming only to wake and sit up on the edge of his bed. Then in the next frame, he reaches behind his head and UNZIPS his head, the loose skin costume of a normal guy falling to the floor to reveal Diablo! In full costume! Saying something about how comfortable he just was! The guy was wearing a mansuit for pajamas! With his full Diablo-I'm-named-after-the-devil-so-I-have-hornish-points-on-my-head costume on!

See, I told you superheroes (and their foes) were silly.

I Was Hurt Today But...

From the archives... originally posted 2/10/06 at http://myyarn.blogspot.com/

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In the two and three year-old Sunday School class my wife and I teach, there is a short form we're supposed to fill out in the event that one of the young ones injures themselves. It is just a little parental notification to pass on to the parents at pickup. So far, we've never had to use it.

It reads: "I was hurt today, but I'm okay now." This is followed by blank spaces where we are to fill out an injury report (presumably in the child's voice, but I'm not quite sure how to do that). This form got me thinking of some alternatives in the event the child is not okay. Here's how that form might look:

I was hurt today, and I'm still bleeding.
I was hurt today, and I should've gone to the hospital.
I was hurt today, and I don't think I'm going to make it.
I was hurt today, and my last words were _______________.
I was hurt today, and I can't remember my name.
I was hurt today, and now I'm missing a thumb.

Clearly these adjustments would give us more options for life's little emergencies.

I Think I'm Going to Drop Something... and Make Millions

We all know that some of the world's greatest discoveries have been by accident...

...the grease-fried roast beef sandwich (accidentally dropped in a Los Angeles vat of oil in 1918)... the Slinky (a spring that bwoinged when it fell off of a desk in 1940... the potato chip (a cranky chef tried to get comeuppance on a finicky customer who didn't like his fries, cutting them super thin and dropping them in grease--Saratoga, NY, 1853)... the Post-It Note (a "you got your chocolate in my peanut butter moment"--with one 3M employee realizing that the adhesive mistake of another would keep the little paper bookmarks from falling out of his hymnal)...

There is much good that can come from dropping, flopping, and failing... I just need to figure out what I need to accidentally do.

Too Lazy to Blog

I have lots of ideas, but not enough energy to develop any of them. I want something pithy or deep or warm or sensational, and I'm tired... so you get squat. I just needed to get something up lest my automatic "I'm dead" post publishes and freaks everyone out.

By the way, I was watching the Georgia Bulldogs defeat the South Carolina Gamecocks on Saturday and I kept wondering why these uniforms just say "Carolina." Are they suggesting the other Carolinas don't matter? Or that all Carolinas are one? How was this consensus achieved, because last I checked, both the University of North Carolina and East Carolina University seem unaware that South Carolina is their daddy...

Extremely Random Thoughts About 2008 Politics

For a long time I've thought about the name blandness of presidential candidates. We have no imagination, and the simpler the name, the seemingly more electable the person is... the same can be said for repetition or family connections: See John Quincy Adams, Franklin D. Roosevelt, Al Gore, George W. Bush, and Hillary Clinton.

Whether there are one, two, or three syllables in a candidate's name, it is generally the Republican candidate who holds the edge. Republicans with one syllable are 7-6 in elections while Democrats are just 2-4. Two syllable candidates are 10-7 as Republicans and 11-14 as Democrats, while three syllable candidates are 4-2 when running as Republicans and just 7-7 as Democrats.

There has been just one candidate since the establishment of these two parties whose name contained more than three syllables: Eisenhower who swept both the 1952 and 1956 elections as, you guessed it, a Republican--though he was a bit like Colin Powell in that he was actively recruited by both parties.

So what does this teach us about the 2008 election? Well, if you believe in these kinds of things--and I don't--you'll note that we have a two syllable Republican (McCain) up against a three syllable Democrat (Obama). McCain's name has been in the public arena much longer than has Obama's which bodes well for Republicans (Eisenhower, Nixon, Reagan, the Bushes) who do not elect upstarts or fresh faces (term use depends on your preference), while the Democrats have a history of plucking up the unknowns (Carter, Clinton). Both of our 2008 candidates' names seemingly pass the roll-off-the-tongue test, but give the edge to McCain for the familiarity of his name... people have known McCains, but few have a friend named Obama.

We would like our presidential elections to be concluded on ideas, but they are often decided over psychological issues or a good sound bite. In 1844, voters found it preferable to have a so-called coward in office (Polk) than a drunkard (Clay). Hoover's "a chicken in every pot" line was a more accessible message for 1928 voters than was the Prohibition stance of Alfred Smith, who voters feared would turn the nation into Roman Catholics--you remember how this misnomer was finally overcome in 1960 with Kennedy. Ford had lost so much in-party support in 1976 that his entire platform was designed by the ranks of his competitor for the party nod (Reagan), this allowed Carter to get in on the backs of labor and the south, despite his awkward Playboy interview about "the desires of his heart."

And that's one to grow on...

I Have an Owie (sp?)

This photo was taken 37 hours after I burned my lip and chin with a hot burrito.

It took the skin off and it hurts--both on the inside and the outside. Would you remember me in your prayers?

 

Shark or Bear?

Would you have better odds against a shark or a bear? That's the imponderable that had me stewing last night.

The Shark

First, the attack is nefarious and cruel. What could be more anticipated than a trip to the beach? You're in the surf, laughing, and feeling that pleasant sting of refreshment, when suddenly your hand is ripped off. How do you fight? Land is your natural habitat, and here in the water, you're only able to move in slow-motion--like a running Bionic Man (or Woman). You can't see the shark... oh yeah, unless he "let's" you see his fin, but c'mon, that's so 1976... he's not going to do that. That's like the bad guy tying you up and giving you his whole life story so you have time to get free--it never happens in real life. Another thing to consider: the shark has about 3,213 teeth and a mouth the size of your head. To summarize, Shark: silent, hidden, swift, toothy. You: slow, surprised, unhappy, short an appendage. 

The Bear

Right off, the bear has an advantage over you. We've been fed so many beautiful lies about the balance of nature and the harmony of the species--and my favorite, that you and I are the most dangerous force in nature. This gives us a false sense of confidence at the sight of a bear. Let's call it the Pooh Syndrome--he's cute and cuddly, and makes fun gargling sounds... let's go make him our pet. The bear doesn't need to sneak up on us, because we walk right into his trap. Admit it, we all have a secret ambition to be Grizzly Adams--but it's not going to happen; we're fat and lazy and could never find nonpoisonous mushrooms to subsist on, and the bear knows it. As we walk nearer--just to get a peek--he lures us in by standing on his hind legs and moving his arms about to remind us of the circus. At this point we're hooked, and he reels us in for lunch. His big strong, clumsy limbs will pound us into submission as we try to flee. In essence, Bear: cunning, cruel, and with a cult-like power. You: overconfident, stupid, and hopped up on Pooh love.

The Final Analysis 

So you can see the challenge. Where would you have the best odds of survival? Clearly, if you can keep your wits about you, the bear would never get close enough to you, which means an easy win for the Shark; but we always, always underestimate our power to suppress the appeal of the teddy.