Politically Correct Feet

Needing slippers, I found at WalMart a pair of apparently comfortable - made in China of course - cheap ones. But that evening when I separated them by biting off that white plastic umbilical cord (I probably loosened an old crown too) I could not decide which foot to put in which slipper. Each slipper seemed to almost fit...but not quite fit...each foot. I held them up. I put my bare foot over each one. I looked for "L" or "R". I tried them on first one way then the next. Damn. Indeed some freakin cretans have decided that we don't need left or right slippers! Honest, the slippers are timidly and quietly the same, i.e. symmetrical. It seems the merchandisers, at least at WalMart have made a clever decision: make those slippers identical. Think of the production savings! Think of the profits! Think how some stupid guy in northern Michigan is spending twenty minutes trying to determine which one is right for his right, or wrong for his left.
But what is wrong with symmetrical shoes? We have unisex bathrooms and ambidextrous gloves. Why do I feel shortchanged? Further, my feet are not hurting from wearing these slippers; a fact which scares me even more.
Okay, so Right and Left are politically charged. So maybe the Chinese shoemakers have little, very similar feet? China is a monolithic nation after all and they don't like to stand out from the crowd. And perhaps we humans are evolving away from different shapes for different feet? Will they genetically engineer us henceforth to have symmetri-feet? Possibly someone higher in the intellectual track than me has decided that the highest moral and physical ground is one where our tracks are the same? In a short time they might make all of wear the same size shoes too. We are only a footstep away from some geneticist putting toes at both ends of our feet. Then those Navajo trackers will be out of work. Meanwhile I'm taking some white-out and painting a "L" on my left slipper. I'm not totally ready for this change at my age.How long before they make symmetri-genitals? Then they can go screw themselves.
Pogeblogger 9/14/08

Nader: Just When You Thought it was Safe...

...Ralph Nader announces that he will again run for President. Actually, each generation has its Ralph Nader, whether it is Gus Hall or Nader or W.J. Bryan or Harold Stassen or Eugene Debs. I wouldn't know how to act if we didn't have these people as purists, ideologues, mavericks.... and sometimes the conscience of the what later becomes national policy. We think of them as fringe types, running from either the far Left or Right, but they almost always have something to say. As we know, they sometimes do real damage to a major candidate's vote counts. I find this very much a positive American behavior, and was beginning to worry that we wouldn't have an outlander this year. Almost all of these guys leave an idea or two laying around that later becomes part of the majority. Hey everyone, hide your VW beetle behind the bushes....Ralph is back!
Now if Michael Bloomberg jumps in.......

Pogeblogger 2/24/08

Last Night's Primaries

The morning after 2/5/08.
There was an ominous deja vu about it. There was Hillary last night, praising the big labor unions. There was the the Mississippi governor, advising his old GOP pals to unite behind conservatism (i.e, Romney or Huckabee). There were the older urban black coalition gals, remembering the Clintons with every breath. There was Fox, reminding us every ten minutes that McCain is 71.
It begins to look like the teeter totter may just plunk down the 4th time and complete the rhythm that started in '88. Bush - Clinton - Bush - Clinton. Does that mean that Jenna Bush - or Jeb - runs in 2016? And then Chelsea Clinton? Maybe a Bush (Reggie) will be the first black president!
Still, I remain hopefu (idealism = Obama) about this race and hope that my humor is not prophetic.
Pogblogger

San Fran Zoo Tiger Act

I am not writing this as an "I told you so", but the minute I heard about the San Francisco Zoo's Tiger attack, and they said that the moat was 15' across with a vertical wall of 20', I told those around me that any respectable full-grown Tiger with an escape motive, could conquer those dimensions in a normal day of playing tag with his pals. When I read today that the vertical wall was but 12' 6", with no electric top, I knew that the striped pussy could do it without panting. I may be the only guy doing this, but whenever I visit a zoo, I size up the walls and moats, wondering if an Olympic-quality feline could breach them. (I won't call it fear but am willing to call it respect.) Unless a wall is high and teflon-coated, I generally consider it inadequate, especially knowing all the tools the large cats have. And further, have you ever looked into the eyes of those big Bengals whilst they pace about, urinating on the visitor screen and scanning those of us, like me, who have extra food on our bones? Clearly we are but choice pork loins, dancing about slowly with our cameras, able to run an impressive 8 miles per hour if we have to flee, while they cover forty feet in one bounce. From the first time I saw a large female Bengal at the Detroit Zoo decades ago, I told someone that "there is something about those big tigers than is scarier, at least for me, than the lions, jaguars, and other jaw animals.
I regularly watch "nature" television shows that tell us how in India large Bengals often have human smorgasbord in the villages. So I was saddened, but not shocked, when I saw news of the SF Zoo eplisode.
If a zoo underestimates these predators, and build walls too low, they should probably buy Dead-Teenager Insurance ahead of time, because it is going to happen. I am not litigation-oriented but my guess is that the SF Zoo better get their wallets out.
And me, the next time my son asks me to go to the zoo with his family (they go very often) I am bringing along my Big Cat Respect Rope. It will be 30 feet long and have a brick tied to the end of it. I will throw it into the moat and if it makes its way to the bottom, I am out of there, leaving my rope there for the cat to ponder. If the brick dangles, however, I will feel secure, but only after I retrieve the climbing rope. I am also bringing along a portable generator. When we stop along the fences to admire large toothy, clawey animals, I am going to start it up and clamp its jumper cables onto the fence, for electronic reasons. I don't plan on being part of any one's Circle of Life.
Hakuna Matata!
Pogeblogger

Newspaper Death Reported

First they said God is dead.
Then we lost Charles Schultz and Mel Blanc.
And Barry Sanders quit running.
Then we found Brittney Spears and Carl Rove.
And someone taught us to make little :) marks in our e-mail.
And now they say that the death of the newspaper may be imminent. Many of the people who used to take the daily paper now look at the same thing online and stop the doorstep service. Daily subscriptions are down. Books could follow in this demise; magazines too.
Many folks however love their newspaper. They can read right past the ads, put it down when dozing, choose not to see certain items, and line the puppy cage. They will still want a newspaper. So I just figured out how the newspapers will get it both ways. For the few thousand who insist on a daily hard copy, they will be served. The paper will arrive each day still. But embedded in the paper will be digital holographic devices that know where the reader's eyes are focused. If the reader tries to change the page without looking at certain ads, the hologram will come to life in full living color in mid-air and stop any changes. It will show the ad just like Hans Solo saw his uncle, in the air, with sound. There will be no choice but to watch the commercial or political plug. Or daily prayer. The big brothers will know which ads you watched, and if you close your eyes will know that too, and run the damned thing again. You will be scored on your daily "participation".
Don't even ask me what happens if you put your paper under an untrained puppy.
But I have exciting holiday news! You can earn bonus points if the guy sitting next to you on the subway leans over and watches your magic ad all through.
This is my Christmas gift to you.
Pogeblogger

I Apologize For My Countrymen

This is an open letter to all of the presidential candidates who feel pressured to explain their personal faith and religion. I apologize, on behalf of American history and the Constitution.
Today Republican Mitt Romney had to again do what John Kennedy had to do in 1960: explain, rationalize and grovel in front of the national press about his own religion.
The founding fathers said little about their own religion and they (thought) ensured religious freedom (and its inherent privacy) for the centuries to follow. They even passed an amendment to the Constitution to guarantee the right of religious freedom.
Today you poor candidates have to squirm about it, and for that I apologize for the constitutional ignorance of my fellow countrymen, and for the media salivating that happens around this topic. We will not be free while we have to explain, justify or rationalize our own religious choices, or lack of them. Will we have to vote for the most (apparently) pious evangelical Protestant, or can we look at each candidate's leadership, their decision-making, their ideals and their wisdom.
I think we were intimidated in recent elections by this very force, and look where it got us.
Pogeman

Commands From Above

My spouse has taken to leaving me very short notes.
For example, this evening when I retturned from the college, she was in the bath. On the kitchen counter was a note with the single word "eaves".
Other times I've seen "keys".
"Lock"
"checkbook"
"light"
Okay; I know that "eaves" is a noun. It is 42 degrees outside, dark, and spitting snow and rain. There is nowayinhell I'm going outside to peer around our eaves. Have they fallen? Is there a dead bear in one of them? A raven? Is "eaves" just the first half of "eavesdropping" and she had found that the CIA has us under surveillance? Are there "adams" as well as "eaves" out there? Does she want an Ive Ste. Laurent purse for Christmas but doesn't know how to spell it? Alright, I admit she probably wants me to clean the eaves of leaves before the heavy winter comes, but I have decided to be obnoxious and take her one-word alert with resistance. At times I have a built-in resistance to notes from the Admiralty.
So a minute ago I left a small reply on the counter. It says "boot."
When (if) she asks what it is I'll just say she can take one of them and put it up ......... nevermind.
It reminds me of the "The Odd Couple" film, where the Jack Lemmon character keeps putting notes under the Walter Matthau character's pillow that read "F.U." Thinking he is being cursed, the Matthau guy finds out it is just the initials of his obessive and neurotic pal, Felix Unger. If you haven't seen that film recently, it is terribly good. The two giggling Brit gals that Matthau brings home and wants to seduce are great, and the restaurant scene where Lemmon clears out his sinuses is wonderful, even classic.
And for you I have a word:
Greet
Pogeblogger