Stop The Presses!

We have a winner in the Best Newspaper Headline Ever! No more submissions, please.

Frankly, 165 years in a country-club "prison" isn't enough. I'd rather see him doing the menial jobs that many of the former Enron employees and stockholders have had to take to make ends meet. Better yet - maybe their most repulsive household chores. Now we're talkin' justice. "Stop yappin' about Jesus and scrub out that toilet, Kenny!"

Strike Out The K

Yet another of my linguistic pet peeves is the gratuitous substitution of the letter "k" for "c" in an effort to force alliteration of come up with something kute...er, cute and memorable. But sometimes it's Just. Plain. Lame.

Like the RV I passed on the New Jersey Turnpike today that had "Kountry Star" painted on it. What is the point of the "K" here, outside of saying: "I'm An Idiot? "

Sometimes, the goal is cutesy alliteration, e.g. the preschools that go by the name of "Kids' Kampus" or "Kids' Kollege." However, if the goal of the school is to promote thought, socialization, and perhaps a shred of literacy, couldn't you maybe just keep the "c" for "campus" or "college?" Doesn't "competent" trump "cute?"

Alliteration can go way too far, e.g. the hairstylists' salon that goes by the name of "Klip & Kurl." Last I checked the OED, neither "Clip" nor "Curl" had a variant starting with the letter "K." So why go through all the effort to look stupid?

Full disclosure: at the Comics Curmudgeon blog, a group of stalwart posters once dubbed ourselves the Kollege of Komix Kardinals, until we came to the realization that none of the words started with "K," and further, we didn't need an organization with the initials "KKK." Hence, we are now the College of Comix Cardinals, but have retained the electric blue beanies. (Thankfully, these were not embroidered with initials.)

Which brings us to about the only situation where the alliterative "K" is appropriate: why, the Ku Klux Klan, of course. Heinous though they are, spelling "Clan" as designed just wouldn't work.

Have you seen any good ones? Why can't we just spell things as they are? Or does the fact that 60 million people took the time, interest, and text-messaging costs to vote for the "American Idol" winner simply bear out the fact that we're A Nation Of Idiots?

No Grocery Store Patron Left Behind

Would it be asking too much to ask grocery stores with Self-Checkouts to implement some kind of basic proficiency testing for those patrons who would like to use self-checkout? It really isn't rocket science, but for some people (usually those immediately in front of me in line), self-checkout turns them into deer-in-the-headlights in no time. While I generally have no use for the Bush Administration, I think they should get 100% behind this, so that they can implement an onerous and short-sighted standardized self-checkout testing program (with hidden agenda of steering grocery patrons to Private or Parochial Grocery Stores), determine which establishments are Failing Grocery Stores, and make life easier for those of us who simply want to zip in and out of the local Acme (known as, and pronounced, "The Ack-A-Me") to pick up a few mangoes.

Might I also submit a minimum (particularly for those patrons using Sport-Utility Kiddie Carts and think it's never too early to give little Madison or Max a lesson in cashiering skills) and maximum age limitation for users, and a restriction on number of items? The bagging areas at the self-checkouts are about as large as postage stamps (and not even commemoratives!), and removing an item usually results in the system hanging up and flashing what I like to call the Idiot Light, requiring intervention by the harried Self-Checkout Clerk, who oversees several of these terminals, is constantly in motion resetting them, and probably slips into the break room for hits of NyQuil whenever possible.

Thank you. I await the Administration's response.

P.S. Thanks to a recent outbreak of spam comments, I have started comment verification...hope the 5 or 6 of you loyal readers aren't too inconvenienced! It WAS a tough decision...while not as witty as your comments, the spammers DID seem to really think I'm brilliant and have wonderful blog design skills...

You Wascawy Wiwetapper!

I am SO relieved that Elmer Fudd moved on to a productive new career after his Warner Brothers gig tapped out.

Dope Plate Special

In a previous post (February 1, 2006), I mentioned a pet peeve - people who pay good money to have something stupid, inaccurately-spelled, and/or arrogant on a vanity license plate. I saw two new contenders for Idiot Prison (in which, of course, they would make standard-issue license plates) this morning:

• A black Porsche Carrera, weaving through traffic at excessive speeds, with the plate "PRASE BE." Must be Praise Be to My Automobile, as I suspect that God would not be particularly pleased with this example of conspicuous, excessive consumption, nor with the mode of driving. Must be one of those Bush Christians-In-Name-Only (motto: "Tolerance? Humility? Justice? That's For Poor People.").
• When I think "Engineer," I think "intelligent." I think "precise." I think "conscientious." Perhaps even "meticulous." I do NOT think a license plate that says "NJINEER."

Talkin' At The Radio

An entertaining part of our mornings here in the House Of Po is after the little Pos have left for school (at the crack of dawn), and Mrs. Po and I, fueled by 55-gallon mugs of French Roast, prepare for the day while listening to Morning Edition on NPR, and talking back at the radio. One such instance this morning was triggered by a report that President Bush's Mexican Spite Fence would cost somewhere in the vicinity of $3 million dollars per mile. Do the math - it's serious money.

Mrs.: "Maybe if they just went out and bought the materials at Lowe's, they could cut costs."

J.: "How about if they hired illegals to build the fence? You know, just wait at the train station in the morning and wait for the Mexicans to come off, looking for manual labor jobs. It's what all the Republicans do."

Mrs.: "Good thought, and he won't see the irony. Maybe you should work for the Administration."

J.: "Thanks, but I don't have my special ed certification."

Mrs.: "Which makes you a Non-Qualified Teacher, which won't fly with No Child Left Behind."

OK, so maybe it isn't Burns and Allen, but it IS early in the morning, after all.

World Keeps Spinnin'

And it's making me really tired. (Not like Lily Von Shtupp in "Blazing Saddles," one of my favorite movies, but close.)

It's May. Busy month for kids, busy month for those of us in sales-related occupations trying to see people before the summer (particularly when one's employer's offerings kind of...well, suck at this particular moment in time), busy month for teachers just trying to hold their classrooms together against summer's call, etc. Add to it a lot of family birthdays/anniversaries, Mother's Day, etc., and I'm just fried. Plus I just got back from a totally-worthless 2-hour one-way trip to a business meeting that was a complete and utter waste of my time, with travel on the mind-numbing Pennsylvania Turnpike. Came home with both daughters out (one at choir, one babysitting) and Mrs.Po headed out to a meeting. Happening more and more these days. Needless to say, did not feel like cooking (which I usually enjoy, and would take up as an avocation, if not profession, immediately after winning Powerball) - so it's leftovers and the obligatory vodka (or three) this evening.

But, in the back of my mind, what really makes me feel tired, or at least tugs HARD at my consciousness, is the upcoming high school graduation of our first daughter. It doesn't seem all that long ago that she was just an infant, then a lobster-lovin' toddler, growing up in New Hampshire...fast-forward to teenagerhood here in Philly...and it's kind of exhausting just to think about what's passed and what's coming. I think a recent trip back to NH, where Mrs. Po and I spent nearly 15 years and where both girls were born, kind of refocused us on the old days...we visited the old Concord, New Hampshire haunts (which hadn't changed much!) and took a day trip to Boston while there and, with daugher L.Po's enthusiastic consent, I took a 2006 version of one of my favorite photos of her, taken when she was 4 years old, in the Public Garden, hugging the bronze statue of Mrs. Mallard (from Robert McCloskey's classic children's book, "Make Way For Ducklings."). Bringing them back up to New England really made me think about how far and how fast things have moved, and here I am, with one soon off to college and a second into high school already. What the hell happened and why did it happen so fast? Yes, I am living a quiet, normal life (extra credit to the reader who can identify the album title and artist), but why does it seem to take so much out of me?

Sigh.

OK, enough of this personal thought-spilling. Back to Bush-bashing and critical observations of popular society soon, I promise. Move on. Nothing to see here. Time for another vodka.

Did We Need ANOTHER Reason?

OK, now it's personal: ANOTHER reason to hate Bush. Now, the season finale of "Grey's Anatomy" will be delayed by Dickhead's immigration speech tonight, a transparent act of public politicking concurrent with the Senate debate on his immigration plan, which includes sending whichever National Guard troops are left in the U.S. (after their third and fourth tours of duty in the Iraqi Imperial War) to man the U.S. - Mexico border. (Why couldn't he find these troops during last year's hurricanes?)

And what about the Canadian border, eh? Sounds like this really isn't a "national security" issue, is it, as much as it is pandering to your knuckle-dragging base?

If you want to keep people from crossing the border, why don't you just tap THEIR phones just like you're illegally doing to us, Mr. President? This way you'll know when and where they're coming. Maybe they just want to be here to watch Grey's Anatomy at its scheduled time, also.

What Famous Leader Am I?

Who did you expect, George Bush?

Thanks to cynnie for the link! (and for visiting!)

What Famous Leader Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

Does this mean that grilling beef this weekend is definitely OUT?

Miscellaneous Veggie Tales

I'm dumbfounded on a couple of fronts here...

Once again, I have read something that expresses the opinion that Ronald Reagan was a great American in the same class as George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, and Abraham Lincoln. There's this unexplainable wave of opinion that feels that we should put The Great Miscommunicator on a piece of U.S. Currency, should create a new space on Mount Rushmore for Him, rename every city, town, and street in the country, etc. I DON'T GET IT.

What exactly did Mr. Reagan do, while trying to convince everyone that it was Morning In America, but enrich the wealthy, demonize the poor, implicitly endorse shady arms-trading and regime-supporting deals abroad, and create staggering deficits that crippled economic recovery for a generation, while reaping the right-place-at-right-time benefits of the inevitable implosion of the Communist bloc? He was an actor who became an actor playing a President, for the benefit of his wealthy backers. WHAT. THE. F**K?!

Secondly, I was shopping at the local farmers' market last week, and saw in the produce section the following: NASCAR BRAND GRAPE TOMATOES.

Questions abound.

Does the distributor of these tomatoes think that putting the NASCAR brand on this fruit (OK, so I took some poetic license in using "Veggie Tales" in the subject line) would encourage normal, thinking human beings to buy them? Or, like me, will these normal, thinking human beings run quickly in the opposite direction to buy something that does NOT have an inconsistent, incomprehensible branding tie-in? (I will also refuse to buy anything with a Nickolodeon tie-in, since it fosters youth dependency on horribly badly-animated, inane television. What exactly does Sponge Bob have to do with the quality of breakfast cereal or snack crackers? More importantly, could I purchase something more cheaply without the licensing fees?)

Or do they figure that those who don't normally buy tomatoes (since they don't eat anything that they can't deep-fry) will sweep them off the shelves before the slack-jawed confusion sets in? "Lurleen, is this a grape or a tomato?"

It's truly Evening In America...