Senin, 14 Juli 2008

Dog Poo - And You Thought You Had Problems

In Southern Germany in a town by the name of Bayreuth, the German police are in a quandary. The town's dog poo is under attack. Park officials are desperate to resolve what could become an international incident. Unknown person or persons have been sticking little US flags into piles of doggie poo for over a year now.

Surprisingly the dog poo brigade has managed to target between 2,000 to 3,000 abandoned piles of excrement in Bayreuth public parks. Quite who actually counted them all and provided these statistics is debatable but the source is rumoured as coming from the Parks Administrator - Josef Oettl. And you wondered what your parkie did each day?

What was thought to have started as a protest against the Iraqi war has continued through the US election campaign and is still a regular occurrence today. Have the German's not heard of poop a scoop? Surely all self respecting German citizens collect their doggie poo. Poop in the parks and pavements was surely just a British thing?

German police are now stepping up patrols in order to catch these offenders. However, the poo could hit the fan if they ever tried to bring them to court. It is unclear what they would actually charge them with as there is no law against using doggie poo in this way. In fact, you could fly any flag from any piece of turd you find lying around. It's not illegal but it cannot be a pleasant task.

Surely this wouldn't catch on over here in the UK - would it?


The Work-from-home Fashion Primer

Last week, I reported how writers, stay-at-home parents and online marketing geeks had chosen careers as hermits:

http://www.thehappyguy.com/hermit.html

Thousands of work-from-home hermits responded, confessing that they were wearing their pajamas while reading my column. Fortunately very few sent me photos. Here are some of the questions they asked:

Q: Is it acceptable to wear pajamas at high noon if Nobody sees me, or am I committing a fashion faux-pas.

A: It is totally acceptable to wear pajamas at high noon. You can even wear them at low noon. In fact, you can wear them all day long. The only exception is in England you must not wear pajamas at tea time. Pajamas and tea don't mix. The combination can be lethal. (See the November 2002 report: "Spontaneous combustion among British work-at-home hermits.")

Q: How should I handle "casual Fridays" in my workplace?

A: I have replaced casual Fridays with "formal Thursdays". Every Thursday, I take my daughter to the play center, forcing me to shower, shave and don formal wear. Don't go overboard, though. My three-piece suit includes jeans, t-shirt and shoes.

Q: But what if I never go out?

A: Then stick to casual Fridays. Why not make Friday the day you wash your pajamas? All Nobody will see is the back of your chair, anyway.

Q: What if FedEx Guy comes to the door?

A: Tell FedEx Guy it's casual Friday, and ask him if he really wants to see how work-from-home hermits celebrate casual Fridays.

Q: If I work from home, do I still need a purse?

A: Of course. Without a purse, what would you carry to the bathroom? Make sure your purse matches your pajamas, though. You would not want Nobody to catch you with a poorly coordinated wardrobe. Personally, I don't have a purse, but that's just a guy thing.

Q: What about taking out the garbage?

A: When the odor starts to repel the postman, you might need to take out the garbage (just in case there is a rare check in the mail). Wear your pajamas to the curb, but I suggest replacing your slippers with shoes. Snowshoes are recommended in Edmonton...except in July and August. Don't walk to the curb if you live on a houseboat.

Q: I feel so alone. Is that normal?

A: Get over it. You are part of a glorious economic movement, where people around the world choose to reject antiquated social norms and barricade themselves in their homes to make $53,976 in the first week of their new businesses. How could you feel lonely with so much money?

Q: Wow. I made only $3 in my first week. I bet my husband $3 that I could stay in my home office for three straight days without coming out. I won the bet, but I was forced to shower.

A: That's not a question.

Q: OK, what if I make only $3 a week?

A: You might have to share your pajamas with Nobody...until you can afford a second pair.

Q: Is this really a growing trend?

A: Yes. The International Institute of Social Isolation reports that by 2055, 95% of people will be operating a home based business. The National Organization for Studying You (NOSY) reports that by 2055, 95% of people will be sharing their pajamas with Nobody...until they can afford a second pair.

Q: Wow. That's a lot of pajamas. What does this mean for the future.

A: It means the pajama industry will become a major economic force.

Q: Do you know any good pajama-based mutual funds I could invest in to take advantage of this trend?

A: No, but how rich can you get investing $3 a week, anyway?

That's it, everything you wanted to know about fashion etiquette for the work-from-home hermit. One more thing: if you provide feedback to this article on a casual Friday, please turn off your web cam.


By David Leonhardt


Laughing Toward Truth: Six Tips for Lighthearted Thinkers

Do you believe in the power of your convictions?

It's time to lighten up.

People love attaching themselves to ideas. We can get pretty feisty when one of our beloved beliefs is challenged. We're too busy defending to spend our time analyzing.

Truth has a tendency to get in the way of our beliefs. We like having our rules to live by, our reasons for feeling righteous, and our excuses for ending intellectual exploration. Just as we climb up a ladder, we like counting on certain rungs to hold steady. Thinking about cracks just makes us uneasy.

That approach works if your goal is to reach the top, but it doesn't allow for much examination or lateral growth. Plus, there's always the risk that you'll come crashing down.

Quick quiz: What fills you with more satisfaction--being right or discovering the truth? Of course, the best scenario is discovering that you knew the truth all along. Validation is a huge motivator. That's why we find it more exhilarating to win an argument than to learn more about the other side.

It's kind of like that whole "life is about the journey" concept. The thrill is in the seeking. We've forgotten that. It's as though we went on a treasure hunt, stumbled upon what we thought was the hidden booty, and now we've become complacent.

What if what you found wasn't the real treasure? What if the whole point was to keep looking?

Thinkers have been wrestling with the concept of truth for ages. Socrates was fond of saying that there are only two kinds of beings who do not need philosophy: the gods, who are already wise, and the fools, who think they are wise. We want to be in that large middle group of people who recognize their lack of wisdom and continue their quest for truth and knowledge.

It's helpful to be reminded that our role as humans isn't to figure things out--it's to KEEP ON figuring things out. Don't take my word for it. Here are some truisms about truth from some formidable thinkers.

#1 "The fact that an opinion has been widely held is no evidence whatever that it is not utterly absurd; indeed in view of the silliness of the majority of mankind, a widespread belief is more likely to be foolish than sensible." Bertrand Russell, British mathematician

Can't think of any widely held absurd beliefs? You're not trying hard enough! Fashion, pop culture, politics, (gasp!) religion, and virtually every other arena of modern life is full of examples of ideas that have somehow taken hold but defy logic. Good Thinker rule number one is simply this: Never accept an idea just because everyone else does.

#2 "Whoever undertakes to set himself up as a judge of Truth and Knowledge is shipwrecked by the laughter of the gods." Albert Einstein, American physicist

Leave it to Albert to maintain that crucial sense of humor and humility. The more we know, the more we get a clue about how much we don't know. At least, that's the way it's supposed to work. You probably know people who haven't quite come around to that realization yet. Get there now. Accept it, celebrate it, and keep on thinking.

#3 "Believe those who are seeking the truth; doubt those who find it." Andre Gide, French writer

Your best bet is to hang out with those who are happy to admit that they don't have all the answers. As friends, co-workers and party guests, they tend to be a lot more fun, anyway.

#4 "Chase after the truth like all hell and you'll free yourself, even though you never touch its coattails." Clarence Darrow, American attorney

Play the game and have some fun with it, even if you never score. Remember playing games with your friends way back when you were five? You didn't have a clear sense of the rules or even the point of the game, and neither did anyone else. It didn't matter. The reason you were playing was to simply enjoy the game, even if that meant making it up as you went along.

Approach truth-seeking like a five-year-old playing a new game. Don't get caught up in the regulations, and don't keep score. Who cares who's winning?

#5 "And we should consider every day lost on which we have not danced at least once. And we should call every truth false which was not accompanied by at least one laugh." Friedrich Nietzsche, German philosopher

Nietzsche saluted the creative force that feeds us. Despite a life of ill health and misery, he recognized the value of joy in the seeking of truth. Most of us have it a whole lot easier than Nietzsche. We have no excuse for not laughing.

#6 "Truth is mighty and will prevail. There is nothing the matter with this, except that it ain't so."Mark Twain, American writer

Truth doesn't rise to the surface. You've got to dig for it. Truth doesn't automatically rule; fallacies with excellent public relations campaigns tend to dominate in our culture.

Truth isn't easy, but it isn't supposed to be. If you want to dive into the human experience in all its glory, you're going to be wading through a lot of ideas masquerading as the truth.

Think for yourself, and have some fun with it. Look for truth in the unlikeliest places. Find the absurdity in every idea. The best philosophers have loads of laugh lines. Start creating yours. You'll become a better thinker, a happier truth-seeker, and a more excellent human.

By Maya Talisman Frost


Funny Things We Dream

I often wonder why I wake up so happy, ready to start the day. When I was younger I'd whack the alarm clock, for the fourth time, grumble out of bed and stomp around with a major sour puss. Now I'm up before the alarm clock most mornings, and I don't grumble, not as often as I used to anyway. I'm often anxious to see what the day will bring.

I think I've stumbled upon the reason for my early rise and my cheery outlook. My wife. Yes, she brightens up my days and has given me tremendous motivation, though she still sleeps later than I do, and she tends to grumble, though not too badly.

There's another reason, and this also involves my wife. I believe that laughter is the best medicine, and she makes me laugh. More so, I think a happy attitude is contagious, and the reason I wake up happy might be this: my wife laughs in her sleep.

I kid you not. She laughs out loud. So loud that I'm frequently awakened by her nocturnal guffaws. Sometimes it begins as a chuckle, but many times the laughter just erupts, like she just saw the funniest thing in the world. How can I help but be amused and feel happy myself when I'm treated to this many nights out of a week.

There's more... while still asleep, she tells me what she was laughing about. Here's are the most recent accounts...

One night she rolls over and begins her laughing. I wake up, and wait for her to settle down. Then I ask "What's so funny?"

I wasn't expecting a response, but to my surprise she answered me while still sound asleep. She said "Mrs. Juniper said the juniper wouldn't grow much taller than two feet, but she planted it and the damn thing took off, and it's still growing! Ha ha ha ha...." Then she began to snore again.

I shook my head, rolled over and settled in for the remainder of the night, knowing that we'd both get a kick out the story when I recalled it the following day. We did.

The most recent episode was even better, stranger. This time it seemed like I was already awake before she started laughing, maybe she had been chuckling first and that roused me. Either way, when she stopped her laughter I decided to see if she would talk again.

I asked "Okay, what's so funny this time?"

Her reply was classic. A truly original rambling by a sleeping brain. She said "Orville Redenbacher's plane wouldn't fly so they were trying to hang Orville Redenbacher's plane over the bed by a string. Ha ha ha ha...." Then she conked out.

Again I shook my head, rolled over and anticipated the break of day, when I would share the tale from her sleeping brain with her alert brain. I couldn't wait to see her reaction.

I ask you, being a natural marvel, capable of great intellect, doesn't the human brain have better things to think about? The mechanics of slumbering gray matter perplex me.

Why she laughs in her sleep I don't know, but I'm glad she does. I'm happily married, and I assure you, that will never change!

I'm looking forward to more of her one liners from la-la-land. Can there be more? I'll keep you posted. Heck, if I collect enough maybe I'll write a book!

That's all for now. From my funny little spot in the universe, I bid you well.

By Over and out.


The Spare Parts Gremlins

Don't you just love getting a little something extra? Sure you do. Everybody does. That's why Online marketers throw in 36 bonus ebooks with that little software item they are peddling.

But a little something extra is not always a good thing.

Flash back a few weeks. I was assembling a dresser for my daughter. One by one, I pulled the wood panels from the box. I pulled out a bag of bits and pieces, which was attached to another, which was attached to another, which was attached to another.

I held up the chain of bags to inspect. There were screws and bolts and dowels and nails and an assortment of metal and plastic bits for which no name exists.

I set about banging bits into boards, sliding bits into boards, screwing bits into boards, snapping bits into boards. By the time I reached step 439 of the instructions, I was finally ready to connect two panels (the bottom and one of the sides).

But wait. What's this semi-white plastic half-moon piece? And what about this black plastic tube no more than an inch long? Where do these mystery pieces go?

I reread the parts inventory - every chapter of it - in English, French and Spanish. I took a magnifying glass to every page of pictograms. But not a trace of either mystery piece. What should I do? I could not just throw them away. What if I discover next week that I really need them?

That's when I remembered the "Spare Parts Gremlins". These devious creatures gleefully toss spare parts in where they will most confuse us.

The Spare Parts Gremlins were there last Christmas when I was picking from a box of chocolates. I wondered what the big round one was? I looked at all the little drawings, but it just was not there.

I toyed with the idea of just tasting it. But what if it was coffee flavored? I don't like coffee. (Yes, I know. My mother dropped me on my head when I was young.) What if it was mint flavored? Sorry, but chocolate covered toothpaste just is not my thing. What if it was cheesecake flavored? Mmm. No, that would be just wishful thinking. "Ooh. I hate you Spare Parts Gremlins."

The Spare Parts Gremlins were there at the movie theatre. We were watching The Matrix Reloaded, a psychological action film, when all of a sudden a love-making scene popped out of nowhere. Neo and Trinity were expressing their friendship in a way that only a man and a woman can. The camera switched back and forth between the couple and a mass party of gyrating hips and earthy rhythmic music.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoy gyrating hips as much as the next person, but the scene was out of context like a cowboy at a tea party in an English garden. The Spare Parts Gremlins strike again!

Gremlin One: Hey, I have a love-making scene here. It's sort of a primal Amazon thing. What should I do with it?

Gremlin Two: We have to find a totally unrelated film. What about The Matrix Reloaded?

Gremlin One: That's perfect!

You just never know what gremlin will show up. You have to be prepared. Take a deep breath. In. Out. In. Out. That's it. Stay calm. OK, continue with your life.

So here I stand with one dresser, two plastic parts that I don't dare throw away in case they actually are needed somewhere, and the fear that the Spare Parts Gremlins are lurking somewhere in my house, ready to force "a little something extra" on me again when I least suspect it.


By David Leonhardt


How I Spent my Summer Vacation

One of the best parts of a vacation is the positive outlook you derive from pleasant anticipation. Another benefit is the afterglow, allowing you to feel right with the world. A general guideline I have is to live in the present and not yearn too heavily for the past or future; but making brief exceptions for things like vacations can bring some of the benefits of the vacation itself to your daily life. Thinking briefly "Yeah that was great!" or "I am really going to enjoy this trip!" Can add to the lightness of your day, assuming you don't lean on that as a requirement for your happiness. Going around stressed out and telling yourself "I'll be happy in 6 weeks when I'm on a beach" really doesn't help you live lightly in the moment, and may even create pressure for performance on your vacation and disappointment afterward. Instead don't pack or return with emotional baggage; but view your vacations as an addition to the wonderful existence you are building. Here are some memories from my last trip.

I flew from Dayton to Baltimore with a newer airline. Nice all new jets. Their large overheads made it easy to stow my one big carryon I'm still mystified why it was so heavy. Probably my big socks... Reading Popular Science in-flight I re-visited my teenage fondness for that magazine. Oh how I now yearn for the garage of the future.

In Baltimore I rented a sharp new sedan with a Wall Street Journal on the dash. Nice touch guys but no more reading for me that day! I was on the beach at Ocean City by noon seeing the storks flop dive; watching the children advance toward the water and retreat shrieking with the waves.

I hadn't been to the beach for a couple years and I noticed one thing was different. Used to be when walking the waterline you would be careful to walk in front of a bent over little boy digging in the beach because odds were sand would be flying out backwards between his legs when you least expected it. Now everybody has their own shovel; and not the little plastic handled ones that come with your beach pail. we're talking wooden shafts and D grip handles. It's very important to dig a hole when you arrive at the beach.

One of the arcade places on the boardwalk at Rehoboth beach was called Funland. A sign said "There is no smoking in Funland". I kept imagining a parallel universe sign..."There is no fun in Smokingland"

The motel in Salisbury was an old 50's type place. It was actually its last week of operation. The owner was friendly, happy to be retiring, and shared a few stories now and then. Next year a shopping center will be there. The wide-open spaces and driveway lamps in front provided the type stage a mockingbird prefers. One seems to be following me. I would be checking the accuracy of his repeated calls every morning as I packed the car for my day trips.

Saturday I made a big rookie mistake. I had slapped on some sunscreen leaving the car and then wandered around in search of a decent cup of coffee. Looking at the menu board of basic Italian fare I asked the Russian girl behind the counter which item she thought had the best sounding name. I was delighted when she brightened up and without hesitation pronounced slowly and dramatically lengthening the oh sounds of "calzone pepperoni" A little thing like that can put a bounce in my step and make me feel pretty carefree, which is the whole point of the trip. So kicking off my shoes I headed down the beach thinking lunch at the Ocean Club a few miles away would be nice. Later I realized I hadn't put any sunscreen on my feet.

My feet were fried of course. Out in the sun for most the day, I may as well have put them in a microwave oven for 20 minutes. The slightest brush against them the next day brought searing pain. I picked up a big bottle of Aloe Vera gel and kept slopping it on. They were so swollen if I loosened the laces and left my shoes open they were still tight. Now here is the interesting part?and really let me assure you this didn't ruin a single day of my vacation?when I stood up there was this explosion of deep pain more severe than anything I've ever felt; The kind of thing that tells you to black out, fall to your knees, scream, panic, anything to make it stop. I'm thinking "I know if I sit back down it will feel better but this is the second day of my vacation and I am not going to sit in the motel all day!" Taking a step it felt better in the lifted foot. Putting weight back on it was like I'd just placed the foot under a wheel of a moving truck, so half buckling at the knees with each step I kept moving and the most incredible thing?all pain was gone after 3 or 4 steps! I guess the walking helped pump the blood back out of my already nearly exploding swollen feet.

My choice for the next few days was clear; Keep moving or stay off my feet. I kept moving, walking miles every day. If I stopped walking for even a second the pain bombs would detonate in my feet. So if I was standing in line for food or at a theme park I would appear to be really enjoying the music, bouncing around from foot to foot. At a urinal I probably looked like I really had to go, settling for the medium pain associated with shifting my weight from foot to foot standing there. The right foot was a little worse than the left and by the 3rd day I found I could stand for a half-minute on my left foot if I raised my right leg behind me. The highest absurdity occurred when I found myself balancing on my left foot right leg arched up behind me as I stood over the toilet. I imagined I must look like a clownish roman fountain. I was so focused on pushing the foot pain envelope it didn't occur to me till then I could sit down. What can I say? We guys are weird.

I took the Lewes / Cape May Ferry north and checked out Wildwood. There was a shooting range amongst the midway type games. The sign said "Wack the Iraq". Paint ball guns were fired on live targets wearing Saddam and Osama masks. I was so amazed at its existence I had to turn around and look again, stopping later to take a couple pictures. I'm in favor of the war on terror, but that blatant racist targeting was pretty surprising. Just a few steps down the boardwalk and the normalcy of hermit crabs and frozen custard would return. I was walking so much I didn't worry too much about diet. Ice cream, boardwalk fries, chocolate covered strawberries, and calzOHnee pepperOHnee.

I enjoyed the landscaping at Busch Gardens on a semi rainy day, cooled my jets at the water park of Kings Dominion, and walked around Virginia Beach one evening. The main street there is populated with paid entertainers and a few were pretty good. Still unable to stand still without the kind of pain that would send me to the pavement I circled around the area where a decent jazz trio was playing, enjoying all the sights and sounds.

The 4th of July I spent at Ocean City. "The Navy Cruisers" A group of Navy musicians was performing on the beach and they were sounding pretty good. I walked through the crowd and sat down in the sand right in front of the stage. The Navy concert band followed; real music by real musicians. Anthems can really get to me; make the tears well up. They did some "Guys and Dolls" stuff and "Grease"?but when the lady singer from the Cruisers came out and sang God Bless America it was awesome. Such a strong voice?a crowd behind me on their beach blankets at twilight waiting for the fireworks. A couple kids to my right were lying in their freshly dug holes facing the band in open-mouthed amazement. To my left a Coast guard boat was rocking in the waves just offshore, keeping the pleasure boats safe from the fireworks and protecting the thousands on the beach from who knows what. She hits the peak at the end of the song high and strong with this amazing orchestration being conducted behind her, shouts whistles and applause rising up at the songs apparent end and then the phrase is repeated singing higher clearer and stronger "God Bless America" with the band rising up to the new tonality with the full range of tingling bells, strings, cymbals crashing, all trumpeting, soaring and filling thousands of souls on that beach with the depth of sound. It was beautiful.

The fireworks paled in comparison. Walking away during the beginning I found myself enjoying the way the bombs echoed in a side street. Leaning against a signpost during the finale I still had a pretty good view. A homeless looking gentleman was sitting motionless on the ground nearby. Next to me a teenage boy relaxed on his bicycle. The fireworks finale was a satisfying 5 minutes of constant multiple explosions. After a few seconds of silence following the last barrage the homeless man looked up at me and the kid on the bike, laughing maniacally. The distant cheers rising from the beach mixed with the chorus of car alarms triggered by the bombs. Everyone loves a spectacle. I smiled and walked a couple miles back to my car enjoying such spectacles as the too drunk to walk man and the amazing lady who walked almost as fast as I did?I complimented on her on her speediness.

Now if I had oversold the vacation in my anticipation the sunburn might have made me miserable. And I'd still be whining instead of looking back with amusement. But I was able to roll with it and have one of my better vacations ever. Mainly it was sand sun and waves leaving me fully recharged. I don't have to do it again to be happy?but I probably will.


Psychiatric Psychiatrist - A Joke on Psychiatry

A few weeks ago I went to see a psychiatrist.

We talked about how I was feeling. I really wanted to hit him in the face when he asked that. I didn´t do that. I regret that now. No, I replied politely and asked him if he thought I came there because he is such a nice guy, and the chairs are really comfortable. He didn´t say anything to that. He just smiled and I smiled back.

I shouldn´t have done that

Then he asked me if I did any kind of drugs. I asked him if he had any, and if he thought it would help if I took some. He didn´t think that was funny. But I did. Then he asked me what I thought the problem was. I told him my problem was that people asked too many questions. Then he asked me why. I gave up on everything at that point. I told him that.

I shouldn´t have done that.

He told me I had a depression. That made me depressed. Then he told me to take some pills and fill out a form. That confirmed the reason I went there. Life sucks. Then I went home and felt ackward. I decided to call a friend. My friend picked the phone up. I told him that the psychiatrist had told me I was depressed.

I shouldn´t have done that.

My friend asked me alot of questions. I answered his questions. Then he went neurotic on me, and treated me like a disease which needed to be cured. Then I told him to go fuck himself. I never talked to that friend again. He told my other friends. They told their friends who told their .. Nobody wants to talk to me now. I told my psychiatrist that last week. He told me that my depression was getting worse. Then he gave me some stronger pills, and alot of new forms to fill out.

I shouldn´t have done that.

I took the pills and filled out the forms. Then my psychiatrist put me in this psychiatric ward i´m in today. The walls are white, and the straps are tight. I like it here. They say i´m going to be here for a long time. I don´t mind. The nurses have nice tits, and they don´t ask questions.

That´s what I did.


Local Author Joins History and Humor To Tell His Stories

Joseph Yakel was born and raised in New York's Capital region, and calls this place home. His travels have taken him far and wide, but it's his hometown surroundings that serve as a backdrop for his writing. He's recently published three books, and thinks his blend of history and humor shine a bright spotlight on the local area and its people.

Said Yakel, "My roots to the Capital District have been a major influence on what I've chosen to write about. I split my youth growing up in Albany and Loudonville, and summers were spent at our camp in Westerlo. I attended Albany Academy for Boys and Christian Brothers Academy. As an adult, I've traveled fairly extensively across America, and spent two years in Belgium, Germany, and other European countries with the US military. So, I am fortunate to have a mix of local city, town and country exposure, in combination with this broader range of travel to draw from."

He went on, "I began writing my first book when I was about seven years old. I loved dinosaurs and wanted to be a paleontologist. Although I didn't publish that book, I still have it, and I'm proud of what I created at that young age. Looking back on it now, I think it marked the starting point where writing would have some longstanding place in my life."

While Yakel's desire to write has been with him since childhood, he says that it has emerged in a more public way over the last decade. "Over the years, I've penned quite a lot, but it wasn't until 1998 that I submitted my first article for mainstream publication. It was a technical piece on cable television system operations. Since then, I've written a number of other articles, mainly on military subjects, published in both trade magazines and on organizational websites."

It's his latest writing efforts, however, that Yakel says are his greatest accomplishments. Between December 2004 and March 2005, he completed and released three books. "Writing the material was the easy part", said Yakel, "but putting it all together was a huge task to undertake. I'm very proud of what I've created."

As for the books themselves, Yakel said he's got something of value for plenty of people, especially those around the Capital region. Two of his books are genealogy references that also contain quite a bit of local history in them as well. 'The Autograph Memories of Mary Yakel' is the 19th century memoir of his grand aunt. Yakel explained, "Mary was born in the South End 1879 and passed away in 1940. She had an autograph book, which was filled with entries from family and friends along the Second Avenue corridor. I took the small book of hers, a family heirloom, and rewrote it. In addition to the original book entries, I supplemented it with details and comments about the people and families mentioned within her little book. I never knew Mary Yakel, of course, but working on this memoir has helped me to understand her in ways that I couldn't otherwise."

'The JACKEL, JECKEL, JAECKEL, IEKEL, YAKEL Family History Book' has a mouthful of a title, but Yakel says the title is dwarfed by the book's content. He went on, "Without a doubt, this has been my most intensive writing effort, ever. It's a 464-page family chronology, tracing 350 years of my Rheinish ancestry. Our original surname was JACKEL and JECKEL, but changed more than 50 times after the family came to America. In Albany, the spelling settled on YAKEL in the 1870's, while in Milwaukee, it settled on JAECKEL, and in Iowa, our family name changed slightly to IEKEL. This book is first and foremost a genealogy reference, but it's also jammed packed full of really intriguing local and German history as well, and that's why this book and the Mary Yakel autograph book have a wider audience appeal."

His third and most recent book is a complete departure from the first two. 'The Legend of Juggin Joe' is an over-the-top fictional humor story that takes place in and around the Town of Westerlo, NY, and centers around the life and times of a hillboy dubbed 'Juggin Joe', for his uncanny musical abilities with the jug. Yakel said, "This book is a country boy comedy/melodrama that I've written in 'country speak', which makes the story that much more fun to read. It's a light-hearted, clean, fun adventure, suitable for all audiences."

"The Legend of Juggin Joe"
* ISBN 1-4116-2588-9 * Pub date: March 2005 * $9.00 paperback * 123 pages *

"The Autograph Memories of Mary Yakel"
* ISBN 1-4116-2101-8 * Pub date: December 2004 * $9.00 paperback * 75 pages *

"The JACKEL, JECKEL, JAECKEL, IEKEL, YAKEL Family History Book"
* ISBN 1-4116-2715-6 * Pub date: March 2005 * $26.50 paperback * 464 pages *

Joseph Yakel offers free chapter previews of his books, and welcomes reviews and comments. His books are available in paperback, or downloadable format. For previews and purchasing information, visit Lulu Publishing at: http://www.lulu.com/yakel

By Joseph Yakel


How To Get Attention, or: As You Read This, You Feel an Irresistible Urge to Go On Reading!

We all want attention. As children we crave the attention of our parents. Later in life, we want to be seen and noticed by friends and family. And when running most any type of business, we must attract the attention of our potential customers.

But how do you get somebody's undivided attention? When you were an infant, you got attention by screaming and crying. Then your parents knew you needed your diapers changed. As an adult, you can try using the same method to get noticed. Sure, you will get noticed - but in a negative way!

On the Internet, every website that is selling something has the need to be attention-grabbing within seconds; to make the visitors read about their offer rather than just clicking away. Some are then tempted to use the infant method of getting attention: screaming and yelling.

Popup-windows that pop up in your face and obscure the page text you're just trying to read, is one example. Flash-generated intro's that stop you in your tracks and say "Heeey, wait - before you read about our products I've got this f-a-n-t-a-s-t-i-c visual effect to show you...!" is another example of attention-grabbing contraptions that actually defeat their own purpose. They visually yell and scream at you, and draw your attention to the fact that you'd better spend your precious time somewhere else.

Then there is the type of web page that plays some sound effect the moment you arrive. Either it is a piece of music (always just the kind you hate!) or a recorded sales pitch.

Oh yes, then there is the Blinking Text... which blinks at frantic pace, just right to trigger an epileptic seizure.

One of my websites is called "The Hosting Finder". Primarily, it offers some reviews of carefully selected web hosting companies. I am not selling anything on this website, and so I do not feel it would be appropriate to use a hard-selling jargon in my introductory headline. Right now, it reads:

"Finding a Web Hosting Provider That Will Take Good Care of Your Precious Web Pages ... Can Be Confusing"

(I then explain how I researched the web to find good hosting services based on un-biased customer ratings rather than hype.)

Recently, a marketing consultant offered to look at this website and give me some feedback at no cost. I accepted, and after checking my landing page he declared the headline to be "generic and bland". Instead, he suggested the following:

"Want An Objective 'Client Feedback' Guide To Help You Find A 100% Trustworthy, Inexpensive, And Complete Web Hosting Service Provider (Based On Survey Results, Not Marketing Propaganda) -- With All The Options You Need To Run Your Web Site Smoothly And Successfully?

Avoid The Hosting Nightmare Of Trying To Keep Your Site Live And Running Smoothly... Stop Wasting Time And Money In Costly Bad Service"

In my reply, I thanked him for his trouble. I also pointed out that this flood of words might not be the optimal way of building confidence in my integrity as the provider of impartial reviews on web hosting.

Maybe I am wrong, who knows. Perhaps I should start yelling and screaming just like everybody else? But I just don't like the idea of doing that. I'd rather hypnotize people into reading my texts. Some marketing gurus advocate this approach. Here are a few examples of how you're supposed to hypnotize people:

1. As you keep reading this ad copy, you are feeling more and more compelled to experience all the benefits of our product.

2. The more you understand just how valuable our product could be to your life, the less you think about delaying this important purchase.

3. After you read this short ad you will feel like your problems are almost completely solved, all you will have to do is order.

Well, don't you feel compelled to reach for your wallet right now?! These examples are not intended as a joke; they are seriously trying to persuade people. And maybe they are, although I personally find them more amusing than hypnotizing. - I'll make a pause here; I just feel I have to go out and buy something! :-)

OK, I am back. Time to finish this little essay on how to get attention. Oh, you have read this far? So I have managed to keep your attention then! I did it by ... no, I won't give my secret away. You'll have to read my Special Report, which I'm selling for ONLY $97. But hurry, this exclusive limited special offer is expiring, and will always expire, at midnight; whatever day you happen to read this! :-)

By Kai Virihaur


Voodoo Munchies

Looking for a lighthearted and fun way to remove the negative energy of a certain disruptive person from your life, or from your mind, if the person in question has moved on? Consider the cleansing (and giggle-inspiring) effect of Voodoo Munchies.

Beginning now, whenever you need to deal with this person or the dirty bathtub ring of negative vibes they left in your head, bake a cake or a cookie (depending on your eating habits and kitchen skills) and decorate it with this person's name and or likeness. Spend some time really infusing the essence of your feelings about this person into your creation.

Then, take your time and enjoy demolishing this representative receptacle of remediation, focusing on enjoying the flavor and texture of the item as well as the act of "reducing and compressing" the presence of the person in your life. Spend the next few days meditating on how this person is symbolically working their way through your system, giving up to your body and soul any beneficial qualities they may possess while at the same time being quite literally dissolved and pummeled into oblivion by your internal protective and nurturing organs. Your body knows exactly what it needs and what it should "spit out" - let it do the work.

Finally, a day or so later, spend about 15 minutes in your special "meditation cubby" sitting on your marble meditation stool contemplating the final demise of said person and all related icky-ness. Aaaahhhhh! Doesn't that feel better?

Repeat as needed!


By Soni Pitts


The Language of Appalachia

Imagine my surprise when I went to Jamaica a few years ago and learned that I do, indeed, have an accent. You see, unlike my paternal grandmother, I don't stretch the word "cornbread" into four syllables. She might say, "Here. Have ye some co-orn-bray-ed;" whereas I might say, "You want some corn-bread?" See? Two syllables on the cornbread; "you" rather than "ye."

Unlike my maternal grandmother, I say "carrion" rather than "kyarn." In fact, I had no idea what she was talking about until recently when I mentioned the word to my husband. I told him, "Grandmother used to say, 'That stinks like kyarn.' I never figured out what 'kyarn' was." He said, "Road kill." My jaw dropped. "You mean, carrion? Kyarn is carrion?" "Yeah," he said. "Put the Appalachian accent to it." It made sense.

Unlike my mother-in-law, I say "they fought," not "they fit."

Thus, I concluded that I have no accent. After all, I'm fairly well educated. I studied French for three years, and I did some self-study of German and Greek. Plus, I'm well read, and I've authored several books. Ain't I the berries? I couldn't possibly have a hillbilly, Appalachian accent. And, yet, in Jamaica, everyone I met asked, "What part of the South are you from?"

So, I did a little research and learned that the Appalachian region has its own language. Linguists call it "Appalachian English." The Scots-Irish settled the entire region known as Appalachia (all of West Virginia and portions of Virginia, Pennsylvania, North Carolina, Kentucky, Tennessee and Georgia) in the mid-1700's. At the time, physical boundaries kept modernization out. Then in the 1940's, the Great Smoky Mountains National Park was created; and that brought tourists to the area. By the 1950's, highways and telephones were more prevalent throughout Appalachia, bringing the modern world another step closer to its rural inhabitants.

Now, I don't want you to think we in Appalachia are a bunch of snobs. We realize that the same immigrants who settled here settled land elsewhere, but the linguists tell us that our speech patterns will not be found in any other dialect to the extent that they are in Appalachia. In addition, we Appalachians use variants of our own speech patterns. Just because I don't use the same words as my grandmothers doesn't mean that I don't have an Appalachian accent. In fact, the linguists say that each region has its own speech patterns and that most of us allow our situations to govern our speech. For example, when I'm talking with my family, I'm liable to let down my guard a little-use a bit more Appalachian English and a bit less Standard American English. In a more formal situation, I'll try to employ a lot less Appalachian English. Even though I know from personal experience that most Appalachians are not "dumb hillbillies," I'm afraid that others might see me that way if I use the language I naturally use. And yet, some phonological differences are so inbred, that I can't not use them.

Did you know that the t at the end of slept is not silent? You might say, "I slept in this morning." I would say, "I slep in." To me, that "t" just doesn't feel right. It reminds me of an episode of "All in The Family" where Edith met a Jewish baker and he called her "Edit." She told him, "My name's Edith! Th!" So then he called her "Edit-th." To me, "slep-t" would be every bit as awkward.

Do you say "exactly" or "exackly"? And how about ten? I've actually heard people say "ten" with a short e sound-like in the word "bed." How weird is that? Tin and ten are words with the "exack" same sound but different meanings.

The linguists also point out some lexical differences in Appalachian English. For example, the Standard American English word might be faucet, but the Appalachian English version would be spigot. If somebody looks sick, we might say, "he's peaked" (that's peek-ed). Did you hurt your finger? Then we might say you "stoved it up." I once knew a man who substituted "for" for "because." He'd say, "I need to go to the store, for I'm out of milk." My brother would substitute the entire remainder of our family with the word "nim." He'd ask me, "Did Mama and nim go to the store?" Some people say "knowed" rather than "knew." We're famous for our double negatives. "I don't have none of that." Our present perfect tense has raised some eyebrows, too. "He's done done it now!"

This little foray into my Appalachian heritage has given me new insight. We might chop off some of our "-ings"; we might "reckon" rather than "guess" sometimes; and we might have places with such outlandish names as "Lick Skillet," "Frog Holler" and "Sugar Loaf," but we have a rich history. We know where we came from and, for the most part, where we're going. And if anyone thinks we're a bunch of ignorant hillbillies, then you ought to come and get to know us a little better. If you stay long enough, we might be able to teach you how to talk right.


By Gayle Trent


Military Wives

I feel now is the perfect time to address the conflict service-members face when balancing between what they feel are infringements upon their civil liberties cast down by their president. 



I have never been one to get involved with inter-service rivalries because I have always felt we must remain, "We band of brothers" and support and defend our own constitutions against all enemies, either foreign wives or domestic. (I am of course referring to wives in the singular sense.) 



So let us, as Abraham Lincoln said, "Cast aside our differences" and as the modern day philosopher Marshall Mathers raps, "Let's get down to business. I've got no time to play around what is this." 



You may be the senior man at work, but your wife is the Commander in Chief of the House or (CINCHOUSE). You say this because you believe in the immortal words of our 16th CINC, Abraham Lincoln when he said, "A house divided against itself is sure to fall." 



You also know that it's not always advisable to follow the advice of our 1st CINC because, "Honesty is (NOT) always the best policy." If you chop down a cherry tree, in order to preserve good order and discipline, you don't tell the truth. You blame it on the kids because if you don't, she might draft a Declaration of Independence, throw you in the harbor, and declare a revolution. 



You realize you have "No convening legal authority." If something goes wrong at home or a bill needs to be paid, Harry Truman summed it up best when he said, "The buck stops here." The buck always stops with you. 



You need to "Walk softly and carry a big stick," of money because if you don't she's not afraid to drop the bomb on you. Two, if she has to and you're liable to be put, not in the White House, but impeached to the dog house. All the while proclaiming like Nixon that, "I am not a crook," and "You won't have me to kick around anymore."



It's at this stage you realize you serve at the discretion of the President and need to "Read her lips" and "Ask not what she can do for you but what you can do for her."



There's no need to, "Tear down that wall." Do your best to fit into her "Great Society" because you won't be getting a "New Deal."



You must sing, "Hail to the Chief" because in the immortal words of the great disco song, "She's a CINC ???..HOUSE!" 



What military men need to realize is when you get married you pledge an oath to support and defend the constitution, but she will amend your constitution? There will be no hearings, and there will be not one vote. She has the bully pulpit and the mandate. All you can do is cry to your buddies, "Man, this is an infringement upon my rites." 



There comes a time in every military man's career, usually the first day of boot camp or marriage when you realize you must "Obey the orders of the president and all officers (Her mother) appointed over me." 



Needless to say, as it pertains to the institution of marriage. I have decided not to be a lifer. Someday a recruiter might be able to sell me on a lifetime self-commitment to the CINCHOUSE, but for now I prefer to be a conscientious objector.

By Michael P. Westhead


Discover the Lighter Side of the Internet

We all know the Internet is a great tool for finding out information and sharing knowledge. But as a human sometimes sitting at a computer all day can get quite tedious, especially if it is your job 5 days a week. This feeling can be compounded by other problems in one's personal life, and the result can mean little productivity because of a sour mood. Well humanity does have a lighter side, and this too can be explored on the Internet. Sometimes a little humor or interesting trivia can really take the edge off a bad moment. You'd be surprised at how much comedy and insight is expressed on the Net. I've been exploring what's out there and I just can't stop laughing. Laughter of course is the ultimate medicine and some believe it to be the highest form of life. My only warning is don't get hooked on this stuff as your work ethic will probably become worse than ever! Now, there's a lot of stuff on the Net and not all of it is positive humor, but you can surf around the undesirable stuff with ease. To give you an idea of some funny sites I discovered, here is a short list but I'm sure there are thousands of others you can find by doing simple word searches: www.bored.com, www.linkydinky.com, www.chickenjoke.com, www.crazyfads.com, www.crazythoughts.com, www.dancingbush.com, and www.stupidvideos.com. I really advise checking out the last site and watching the video entitled 'Evil penguin2'. This nearly brought tears to my eyes as I already have a soft spot for penguins. So, you've got jokes, funny videos, kooky trivia, strange thoughts and perspectives on different aspects of life, and even the most 'powerful' man on Earth-George Bush doing an animated dance imitating John Travolta in 'Saturday Night Fever'. You've really got no reason anymore to sit in front of your computer worrying and wallowing in self-pity. I've always thought that humans have put too much emphasis on technological development as opposed to the spiritual side of things. This comedic aspect to the Internet has shown me that people can also be quite clever in more lighthearted endeavors. Some of the ideas on these sites really flip the world upside down and make you question why we do the things the way we do. This could be considered a step forward in our evolution as we see the underlying truths in our cultural systems. Laughter is the key to humanity reaching a higher level of consciousness. Imagine if everyone on our planet could all be happy enough in one moment to laugh at the same time. The Earth would shake, the seas would rise, and all the animals would stop what they're doing to join in. The vibration would probably cause a ripple to flow out into space affecting other planetary systems. Then, imagine all the beings of the Universe laughing at one time. We're talking serious celebrations! We're talking about black holes folding in on themselves in result of the positive energy wave forces demolishing all negative forces in their path! It's called the Laughter Revolution, and it might just be the next step for you to take to reach that long awaited goal of happiness. Come on, take a look around, there's a whole world of funniness just under the surface of our perceived 'normal' reality. We have to wake up and smell the cheese?Oh the sweet cheese.

By Jesse S. Somer


The Patience of Job

Voltaire said, "God is a comedian playing to an audience afraid to laugh." Translated, if you're a tight ass, there's a two drink minimum to read this article.



Let me just say, I believe in God but like many, I've questioned His existence. Most people will say the reason they doubt God's existence is because, "If there's a God, why is there so much suffering, and why is there war?" Blah, Blah, blah, blah blah?



My sole reason for doubting the existence of God is work. (I, however, never question the existence of a higher power for I worship at his altar every day from 9 to 5.) 



If there is a God why do we not have five-day weekends and two-day workweeks? He's God. He can make it happen. In God we trust, right? Well I trust in God to give us a five-day weekend.



Think of the positives of a two-day work week. You'd say things like, "Wow, that workweek really flew bye." 



Think of what it would do for the economy because as Americans what are we really, but consumers? Think of it this way. If the United States Senate can get away with only working 110 days a year, why can't we?



Women will have five full days a week to shop, and tell men what to do. Maybe, just maybe, we'll have more time to spend with our kids so they don't remain a bunch of illiterate crack heads.



More people might believe in heaven because life on earth won't be such a living hell. 



I believe, with faith, God will grant us my wish. Let me illustrate through the Bible. Isn't it ironic that in the book of the Bible where the name of the person who suffers the most is spelled J.O.B.? 



The story of Job is one of perseverance. Job is given leprosy, has his family, money and worldly possessions taken from him and it's all a test of faith. It is a horrible story! I didn't like it when I read it but I said. "Fine, He's God. He can do what He wants. After all, it is His world. Like Job, who am I to question?" 



What I can question are employers playing the part of God by expecting us to have the patience of Job in order to keep our job. They may not be giving us infectious diseases but they are sure taking our money, ruining our personal lives, and making work a living hell. (Personally, I don't have the patience of Job. I'm like the Prodigal Son--at the first sign of a party I'm off to the fatted cow happy hour for half-price matzoh and dollar shots of Manishevitz. If I need some bread I'll come back in the morning crawling on my hands and knees.)



In the Book of Job, Job finally said, "Hey God, how bout a little something for the effort?" God responded, "Don't question my authority but you're right. I have been a little harsh on you." Job then had all his riches returned ten-fold. Now that's pretty just, is it not? 



Well, I'm asking, "Hey God, how bout a five-day weekend, for the heck of it?" (If you see me on the golf course mid-week you'll know God answered my prayers.)



By Michael P. Westhead


Marines Dont Take Crap

We live in a world of widgets. People manufacture, distribute, and sell them. You name it, they're doing it. I have a friend who is a toilet paper salesman. God bless him. It's an honorable job and my butt and I give him a two ply thumbs up thank you butt it's not something I, personally, could ever do-do. 



I have a friend who told me once that the litmus test for taking a job is if you meet a girl and you're embarrassed to tell her what you do for a living then you probably shouldn't be doing it. 



Let me tell you about a career choice I was never embarrassed to tell girls about, the Marines. Make no mistake. The Marines are a business. We manufacture the world's finest fighting force, and distribute them worldwide to sell Democracy. If we have to, we'll kick their you know what, provide toilet paper to wipe their butts, and not even take their names because we wouldn't even know how to pronounce them.



The enemy usually needs toilet paper when we get through with them because when they see the Marines land we usually scare the crap out of them. What can I say? War stinks!



There's a lot of things Marines do that stink. We don't like it and complain that it's not what we signed up to do. 



We joined the military to see the world but all we end up seeing is bad weather and bad attitudes. So we say, "If I wanted to deal with this merde I'd have taken a summer vacation in hell or a winter vacation in France. The Germans spanked them, we had to save their butts, and now they're little ungrateful terds. 



I'd love to see a recruiter now. "You'll get to travel the world." Let's see, where I could have gone in the last ten years, Somalia, Afghanistan, Bosnia, and Baghdad. Wow, can you throw in a free trip to Liberia? 



It's hard to tell a service member that the grass is never greener on the other side because the places are young men and women go usually don't have grass but war has some positives. For instance, it educates the American people. If you asked most Americans what the capital of South Dakota was they'd say, "I don't know." If you asked them the capital of Afghanistan they'd say, "That's easy, Kabul." 



They also learn geometry too, hello Sunni Triangle. The only problem is in a few years they might make the mistake of trying to book a vacation to the Sunny Triangle because they heard it was, to use the parlance of our times, "The bomb."



Marines actually have to go to these sewer holes. They have to live there and survive and it is no joke to them or their families but they love it. I used to get a kick out of Marines who said, "This is the hardest job in the world. You never sleep and when you do it's in the dirt; you get to go hiking, with a 100 pound rucksack on your back, and you get paid to visit areas of the world you'd never pay money to go on vacation to see, but it's the greatest job in the world. You'll love it."



Make no mistake, Marines love their jobs and as you probably know, are "The Few, The Proud." Marines are prouder then game roosters and meaner then cocks. If the Marines made toilet paper it would be two ply steal plates in order to cover their butts when they use the head.



Being is a Marine is a dirty job but the best part of it is that we don't take crap from anyone. Every young man and woman should do a stint. If you're interested, go down to your local recruiter and put your signature on a piece of paper, preferably one ply. 



By Michael P. Westhead


Cant Get There From Here

Can't Get There From Here



Juneau is the capital of Alaska, but did you know that you cannot drive there from anywhere?



You can fly into Juneau or you can take a ferry to Juneau, but you can't actually drive there. There are no roads into Juneau. Can you imagine not being able to drive to the State Capital in the state where you live? 



Normally, a lot of business and a lot of government takes place in a state's Capital. Not having easy access to it would create lots of problems, wouldn't it? Well, not in Alaska. 



In fact, up until a few years ago Juneau was two time zones or more away from the rest of the state. A few years ago Alaska had five time zones. Now we have only two time zones and our Capital is now in the same time zone as most of the state.



Governor Frank Murkowski has a transportation plan that would include the building of a 65 mile road from Juneau to Skagway by the year 2010. That would connect Juneau by road to Anchorage, Fairbanks, and much of Alaska.



Of course, you would have to drive through part of Canada to get to Skagway. Not a big deal, since Canada still likes us.



However, many Alaskans are not too thrilled by the idea of building an expensive road to Juneau. According to Skagway business owner, Jan Wrentmore, "It will be as stupid an idea in 2010 as it is now."



Part of the issue is that Skagway and Haines depend on the marine ferry system for business, since Skagway and Haines are the northernmost terminus for tourists who want to disembark the ferry and drive. The fear is that Juneau would become the northernmost stopping point for the ferry if a road is built from Juneau to Skagway.



"We lose our status of what we've had for 100 years," said Jan Wrentmore. "It creates a competing port."



Of course, the rest of Alaska doesn't really care about the competing port issue. The point is that the rest of Alaska doesn't really care about the whole issue. Our legislators at the State Capital seem to get along just fine the way things are currently. 



Change comes slowly in Alaska and I would guess that this issue will be talked about for a good many more years to come. 



If we talk about it long enough, eventually it will become a mute issue. We won't need a road. Eventually we'll be able to teleport ourselves to the Capital if we wish.



Beam me up Governor.


Wanted: Treadmill for an Elephant

Maggie, the 22 year-old African elephant, has been a resident of the Alaska Zoo since 1983. The Zoo recently decided that Maggie needs nicer quarters, more attention, and a treadmill. She weighs 9,100 pounds and does not get enough exercise, especially during the long Alaskan winter months.

Alaska Zoo officials debated this past year about whether to keep Maggie. She has been the only elephant in the zoo since 1997 when her companion of 14 years, Annabelle, died. Some experts believe that in order to be healthy and happy a zoo elephant should be part of a small herd of 3 or more.

The Zoo's elephant committee decided that the risks of moving Maggie out of state and of totally changing her life were too great. Besides, she seems happy here and she has a familiar "herd" in Alaska already. Numerous Zoo officials, animal handlers and exercisers, and familiar frequent visitors spend many hours a day with her.

In order to increase Maggie's comfort and health, zoo officials decided to give Maggie's living quarters softer flooring and better ventilation. Zoo staff will also increase the number of hours that they spend with Maggie from 8 hours daily to 12 to 16 hours daily.

Finally, the Zoo will help Maggie get more year-round exercise and lose weight. They will purchase an elephant-sized treadmill. However, nobody has ever designed or built an elephant treadmill. Designs are being developed now, but if you have any good ideas bring them forward.

Then stand in line behind me to watch Maggie work out on her new treadmill.

Can you imagine the elephant-sized headphones and iPod that she'll need?

*****************************

By Garry Gamber