How to annoy your friends with geography

How to annoy your friends with geography

            You’ll want to one-up your pals with this smug collection of global oddities. They’re also great for winning bar bets in the better bars:

            Fact: If you boarded an airplane at Miami, Fl., and flew 1,200 miles due south, you’d be over the Pacific Coast.

            Explanation: Check it on a globe. You’d pass over the Isthmus of Panama. Next landfall: Antarctica.

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            Fact: The capital city of an inland U.S. state lies further west than Los Angeles.

            Explanation: It’s Carson City, Nv.

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            Fact: The rain in Spain does not fall mainly in the plain.

            Explanation: This is what happens when songwriters practice meteorology. Spain’s rainiest area is its northern Atlantic coast, the aptly named Costa Verde.

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            Fact: New York is the wildest state east of the Mississippi.

            Explanation: New York State contains vast tracts of wilderness acreage, especially in the Adirondack region.

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            Fact: Adolph Hitler owned 9,000 acres of land in the American west.

            Explanation: It was pastureland in the State of Colorado.

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            Fact: Charles Lindbergh was not the first man to fly the Atlantic.

            Explanation: A number of others – mostly military men – did it prior to Lindbergh’s 1927 crossing. Lindy was the first to fly the Atlantic solo.

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            Fact: One of North America’s best-known natural phenomena is the result of a lake 570 feet above sea level emptying into another lake 245 feet above sea level.

            Explanation: Thus producing Niagara Falls. (The Niagara River connects the two lakes.)

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            Fact: The easternmost, westernmost and northernmost points in the U.S. are all found in the same state.

            Explanation: The state is Alaska, easternmost in that the tip of its Aleutian chain extends across the line that separates east from west.

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            Fact: One of the contiguous 48 states has approximately one-third of its land area separated by water from the other two-thirds.

            Explanation: The state is Michigan. The water gap between the upper and lower peninsulas is bridged at the Straits of Mackinac.

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            Fact: The earth is not round.

            Explanation: The earth is a spheroid rather than a perfect sphere. It flattens slightly at both poles and bulges slightly at the equator. (Note: This is a specious point, the recitation of which will not win you any friends.)

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            Fact: The world’s largest island was given its name as part of a real estate con job.

            Explanation: The Danish government gave Greenland its tempting but inaccurate name in order to attract settlers.

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            Fact: The northernmost of the 48 adjacent states is not Maine.

            Explanation: It’s Minnesota, whose northernmost point is a detached bit of land northwest of Lake of the Woods.

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            Fact: In 1926, it was possible to cross the Atlantic Ocean using scheduled, non-surface, commercial transportation.

            Explanation: By dirigible. Though the Hindenburg disaster quashed airship travel, veterans of successful trips deemed them pleasant and relaxing.

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            Thanks for reading with us today. Please return your tray tables to their original upright position. This would probably entail ripping them out and taking them back to the factory, but never mind that.

 See part 2 in the March 1, 2012 Pickens Progress.

Bad attitude about morning television

All the networks and cable news outlets have a weekday morning show dispensing wake-up potpourri between 5 and 9 a.m. – an amalgam of hard news and ditsy features of the now-Brian-will-go-outside-and-wrestle-a-gator variety. The hosts sport what the networks like to call ‘a morning personality’: chipper, wide-awake and maybe just a little goofy.
Scenes I’d like to see on A.M. TV
Scene One: Jungle Bob comes on-set with his animal du jour, a Burmese ferret. Uh oh, the ferret’s loose. He’s trying to bite a cameraman. Now he’s after Jungle Bob who seems unconcerned: “Nothing to worry about. He’s more scared than aggressive. OW! DAMMIT!” An assistant grapples the gnashing ferret as J. Bob hobbles to a seat: “I’m okay, I’m okay. He’s not used to television.” Oh, really? We thought he had a union card.
••••••••
Scene Two: The host has been teasing an upcoming segment for fully an hour. “You’ll want to stay tuned. We’ve learned that the world is coming to an end but first here’s homemaker Betty Kitchens with her recipe for noodle casserole.” Chirps Betty, “It’s perfect for those pre-apocalypse parties. Festive but not too fussy.”
••••••••
Scene Three: Matt Lauer interviews me.
MATT: What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?
ALAN: Oh, well let me think. Probably the Lindbergh kidnapping.
MATT: Very funny. But we’re hearing that you’ve done bad things.
ALAN: Everybody’s done bad things.
MATT: You admit it! What one factor turned you into a bad person?
ALAN: Sometimes I fantasize about strangling journalists.
MATT: You’d like to strangle me, wouldn’t you?
ALAN: (nodding) You, Bill O’Reilly, Nancy Grace. Look, I’m confused. In the green room everyone was nice to me and there were pastries and juice. Then the lights go up and you turn into a werewolf.
MATT: That’s my job.
ALAN: Character assassination?
MATT: Finding the truth.
ALAN: The truth isn’t all bad. You have a rotten attitude.
MATT: So do you, pal. Listen, you want to go for martinis later?
••••••••
Scene Four: Stoner the Weather Guy finally goes over the top. “I’m a serious journalist, not some weather vane rooster on top of a barn. I hate the weather – all of it! You think it’s some kind of picnic, standing outside in a typhoon? I hate the weather!... No, no, leave me alone.” And they haul him away, ultimately to be with Willard Scott in a place where the sun always shines.

Striving for humbleness – and falling short

Meek? The faith expects me to be meek? Let’s take a quick look at the U.S. culture: The American Dream; the Greatest Generation; Super everything; megachurches. America is all superlatives! And I’m supposed to be meek?
Maybe humility is a more accessible virtue. I’ll try humility. Why? Because I’m tired of being aggressive/assertive/opportunistic/upwardly mobile in panting pursuit of success. (By the way, The American Dream is also The Swiss Dream.)
Maybe there’s another measure of success. I sense it sometimes when I lost an argument to a civilized adversary. Oddly, I come away enhanced. I can now say, “Valid point,” to a worthy opponent. I can even say, “I don’t know,” and it’s a relief to argue not to win but to learn.
Herewith a few phrases that have taken my conversation halfway to humble:
“On the other hand” – an irresistibly facile transition. Acknowledges point A while opening the curtain to point B.
•••
“A C-note for your thoughts.” – Quiet people can be irritating. It’s fine to be a person of few words, but in social situations the idea is to express oneself, i.e. talk. Reticent speakers need to be drawn out, like butter. Occasionally you meet one who doesn’t want to be drawn out and they just glare at you. Or, as one clever introvert put it, “I’m not quiet; I’m just dull.”
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“Credit where credit is due.” – Usually it’s me to whom the credit is due and I am loath to give it to anyone else. This is probably a character flaw.
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“I hate to use the R word, but I was wrong.” It’s tricky to be humble and witty at the same time. If this little joke is unappreciated, you may have fallen in with dullards.
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“I see your point.” – A tidy conversational confection that acknowledges without committing. Excellent as a response to “Shut up.”
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“Got time for a cup of coffee?” – Always say yes. If it doesn’t go well, guzzle the coffee and leave. But I’ve watched difficult people become engaging under this premise. Please, never tell anyone in word or manner, “I don’t have time for you.”
•••
So how about humility’s underlying assumption: that I’m no better than anybody else. Recently I was talking to a prison inmate and I recall thinking that I’m a better person than he by any objective standard ever devised. On the other hand he was forbearing and contrite and I arrogant. And I went away musing over Kipling’s hymn to classlessness, “You’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din.”
And I realized that humility was a thing of the spirit and had little to do with what one had or had not achieved. So anyway, I’m not humble now and may never be. It is, however, worth a try.
[For more of the same, visit Alan’s blog, www.essentialba.com]

Prejudices I enjoy too much to give up

Prejudices are by no means rational, or merit-based, or well thought out. Yet everyone has them. The psyche embraces and coddles thoughts that repel the rational mind.
The way to deal with prejudices is to acknowledge them, so here’s a list of mine. Why seek professional help when you can psychoanalyze yourself?
Pop music – Lady Gaga should be Lady Googoo to emphasize the infantilism of pop music. And yet when I think about it rationally I have to concede that pop music brings joy to millions. So I don’t think about it rationally. ‘Gaga’ is hardly a rational concept.
Clothing as advertising – I do not wish to wear shirts that are emblazoned with corporate slogans or logos. Must I not only carry Nike’s logo but also pay for the privilege? Let them pay me! I’ve been told that this is a stupid point on which to take a stand. Impractical maybe, but it isn’t stupid to prejudge those who would manipulate you for profit.
Soccer – I keep wishing that someone would just grab the ball and run with it. This viewpoint defies the sensibilities of virtually the entire world, and yet I can’t dispel it.
Fruitcake – It’s festive and one appreciates the spirit of it. But it tastes funny. The logical response is simply not to eat fruitcake, however I can’t stand to hear others extol it. I veer close to lunacy on this point.

 I believe people read Paradise Lost because they are forced to do so.

Milton’s Paradise Lost – I believe people read Paradise Lost because they are forced to do so. On the other hand, what is education except forcing students to do things they don’t want to, albeit for constructive reasons? Okay, but I still don’t like Paradise Lost.
Hippies – I know they’re supposed to be refreshingly free-spirited. But they call one another ‘man’ and ‘dude.’
Odd names – The chairman of the Republican National Committee is named Reince Priebus. I mean come on; if your name is Priebus, resist the temptation to name your son Reince. And if you have a difficult name, please forbear if others misspell it. I was filling out a form for a kid named Sean, who indignantly informed me that it was spelled Shawn. Like I care.
Madonna – The right to profitable sluttery does not include mocking religious icons. “Madonna” indeed. Friends suggest that I stop worrying about pop musicians and concentrate on my own behavior. This is a logical suggestion; prejudices defy logic.
The French – Sarkozy seems like a regular guy and I’m slowly warming toward the French. In fact, I hereby offer to remove them from this list if they’ll discontinue service charges in Montmartre nightclubs. Prejudices aren’t admirable but they also aren’t permanent.
[For more of the same, visit Alan’s blog, www.essentialba.com]

Are romance novels silly?

Are romance novels silly?
Not at all. What the genre needs are some fresh ideas. Herewith excerpts from a few of my own storylines:
Bradley was all man except for his walk – a sort of waddle not unlike a penguin’s. Brittany was a pert young therapist specializing in peculiar walks. “You don’t look at all like a penguin,” she counseled. “But just in case, I’d avoid wearing a tuxedo.”
“It’s no use,” he lamented. “No woman could love a man who waddles.” Her heart went out to him. But how far?
•••••
Jeff’s idea of a weekend in Atlantic City frankly tempted Teresa. But could she leave the convent while her garden wasn’t fully bloomed?
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Raellen was the belle of the Redneck Riviera, betrothed to rich, respectable Hatton Fiske. But when rakehell race driver Monk Varney rear-ended her truck, she saw it for what it was – his pathetic attempt to meet cute.
•••••
Gorilla-Louise Maxwell hated her name, and welcomed the chance to change it by marriage to handsome Dave Sinclair. “Soon I’ll be Gorilla-Louise Sinclair,” she beamed.
•••••
The stranger barged into Gwynneth’s Orient Express compartment and thrust a package into her hands. “Take this to Istanbul. Ask the first man you meet ‘Are you the Turk?’ If he says yes, give him the package.”
She looked into the stranger’s dark features. “Proper English ladies don’t go around saying ‘Are you the Turk?’ to strange men. Especially in Istanbul.”
He flashed his credentials. American CIA. Said she, “You’re certainly cheeky enough to be a spy.”
“Americans don’t have time for subtlety,” he whispered. “We’ll meet again.”
So saying, he leapt from the train. And the Orient Express thundered through the night.
•••••
After a week as private secretary to the mysterious Dillard of Yorkshire, Ann was contemplative as she walked the moors. Certainly the Dillard was felicitous of feature but his rumored eccentricity was yet to show itself.
Now here he came, bounding across the heath, after her with a butterfly net.
•••••
With Lance and Polly it was a battle of wits and wills. “What country is Calgary?” posited Lance.
“Canada,” she answered.
“Wrong. It’s not Cana-dah, it’s Cana-duh! You mispronounced it.”
“And I say it’s Cana-dah!”
“Duh.”
“Dah.”
“Duh! Come here, you vixen!” Stimulated beyond endurance, they melded into a full embrace, no longer caring about the dominion to the north.
[For more of the same, visit Alan’s blog, www.essentialba.com]

If the Occupy Wall Street crowd ran America

What a swell bunch they are. Befouling parks. Throwing intellectual tantrums in the name of indicting capitalism.
So, you demonstrators are angry? Well I’m angry too. But I’m trying to channel it constructively with a few minor cultural adjustments that might appeal to the disaffected:
How about a Capitalists versus Anarchists softball game?
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Demonstrators could go to the homes of people they think make too much money. They’d be invited to come in and take showers.
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At the Pentagon, the Joint Chiefs could calm the national mood by refashioning themselves as an encounter group called Guys Sharing Their Feelings.
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Walmart could soften its proto-Goliath image by secretly referring to customers as “aisle bunnies.”
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Educators could name schools something trendy and accessible like Knowledge Barn.
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Washington could humanize the budgetary process by rechristening it “Fun With Numbers.”
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The Wall Street Journal could more fully embrace the proletariat by renaming itself The Bowery Fishwrap.
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Here’s a concept: free air travel on DOT Airlines. Everybody’d assume it stands for Department of Transportation. Nope. Delay On the Tarmac. If takeoff is achieved, the flight will go nowhere, thus reflecting the inchoate goals of Occupy Wall Street.
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How about renaming the Chicago Bears something more fervently anti-capitalist, like the Chicago Baboons?
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Next time there’s a demonstration, let bankers and brokers emerge from their skyscrapers and talk informally to demonstrators. Couldn’t hurt.
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In short, the demonstrators have the semblance of a point: capitalism isn’t perfect and can be ludicrously excessive. But, if you attack it, do so with logic and maybe even compassion. Making a nuisance of yourself isn’t enough.
[For more of the same, visit Alan’s blog, www.essentialba.com]

Disrespecting iconic American authors

            Ever notice how many of the early American writers had three names? Henry David Thoreau, for example, whom I refer to as Hank Dave as a hedge against pomp. In fact, I’ve nicknamed them all. In the theater of my imagination, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow becomes “Waddie,” and of course there’s Ed Al Poe. (Ignore the unfortunate reference to a contemporary dog food.)

            James Fenimore Cooper becomes familiar as “Fenimore” and Louise May Alcott is Lulu.

         

   I don’t mess with Ralph Waldo “Emo” Emerson (at left) too much because he seems to have my number. When I dropped in on him in Concord in 1845, our imaginary conversation went like this:

            ALAN – Do you like Thoreau personally?

            EMO – Sure. He and I both write about nature, which he believes he invented.

            ALAN – You mean Walden?

            EMO – Yeah. You realize he comes to my house once a week for a good meal and to do laundry?

            ALAN – I didn’t realize that.

            EMO – Still, he evinces self-reliance to a laudable extent. Convention is not his master.

            ALAN – Or yours?

            EMO – I hope not. He who would be a man must be a non-conformist.

            ALAN – Do you seek out your own means of non-conformity?

            EMO – No. It’s just that I try not to be slavishly consistent in anything.

            ALAN  - A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds?

            EMO – Yeah I said that.

            ALAN – Do you still believe it?

            EMO – Look, I’d had a few drinks, okay? I’m just saying that society is in conspiracy against the manhood of every one of its members; you, me, Thoreau, all of us. We’re all misunderstood.

            ALAN – And that’s a good thing?

            EMO – It’s necessary. Luther and Copernicus and Galileo and Newton – all misunderstood, as was Jesus. To be great is to be misunderstood.

            ALAN – It’s necessary, but surely not sufficient?

            EMO – That’s true. By the way, if you see Thoreau, tell him he forgot his socks.

•••••

            Fast forward to present. If this were a textbook it would be time for those inane Questions for Discussion that have nothing to do with the material that’s gone before. Like “What was on Emerson’s mind when he wrote ‘Nature’?” How the devil do I know? I’m just saying that your mind is something for which to be thankful. It can be used well or badly, or brilliantly, as you and I know. And Emerson knew.

            So, anyway, Happy Thanksgiving.