Happy 50% Off Candy Day!

For those of us who wear black at this time every year, don't call it "St. Valentine's Day".  Call it "50% Off Candy Day Eve".

Always the Guardsman, Never the Guarded

It struck me, as I was assisting Robomarkov in Tucson this week, that I seem destined for a support role in life.

Back in college, I helped form and name two groups of friends intended to assist a couple of other friends.  The Elite Guard was chartered to protect our friend from the world -- and the world from our friend.  The Unitarian Guard was formed for a similar reason for a different friend.  (Both names are puns which you would think very witty if I weren't suppressing the explanations for privacy.)

A similar example is that I seem destined to be on Purse Patrol.  You know the feeling, guys, holding the handbag of your wife/girlfriend/sister/mother/friend as she tries on whatever garment or shoes in whatever store, while you're trying to be inconspicuous and trying not to catch anyone's eye, but when you do, it's another guy who's thinking, "Buddy, I got it the same as you do."

So, after helping Robomarkov, I figure, "Eh, that's what friends do."  I still need to come up with a name for this one, though.

I'll believe in "climate change" but not "global warming".

In my mental dictionary, the definition of "Tucson" does not include, "must scrape frost off of one's car windows in the morning".  (Nor, for that matter, does it include the word "snow", unless it is preceded by "does not".)

Alas, it looks like this 40-year-old edition in my head needs to be replaced.

St. Miracle of Modern Science

I had occasion to meet a man who had a hip replaced yesterday.  He had his first physical therapy session a mere six hours after the surgery.  The doctor told him today that he could go home, just 24 hours after surgery, if he wanted to.  (His wife, however, wanted another day with the house to herself.)

This is not a result of insurance companies pushing the patient out the door, nor is the hospital needing bed space.  This is entirely because of improvements in medical technology and therapy.  I, for one, will gladly accept more rapid and effective health care like this (not that I want to be stricken with anything, anytime soon).

No pigs were harmed in the making of this blog.

I am visiting my friend Robomarkov, who kindly fixed bacon and eggs for my breakfast.  Well, he calls it bacon.  It actually is turkey bacon, which I refer to as "fake'n".

The color is wrong.  The texture is wrong.  The flavor is wrong.  The shape is too uniform.  I felt even more like Arthur Dent than usual, when I realized that the product was almost but not quite entirely unlike bacon.

Since I am where I am...

It's ironic that in the library, a place where quiet is esteemed, the cart the librarian is using to reshelve books is the loudest thing.

Yes, it's even louder than the child whining next to his mother, who is making me think of the old (but not inaccurate) phrase, "Be quiet, or I'll give you something to whine about!"

There aren't any Mormon missionaries about, though.

It's better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick, as my Uncle Anatole used to say.

This morning, I had the blinding realization that "blinding realization" is probably not the best phrase to use when putting in my contact lenses.

Three out of Five Ain't Bad

I need your help (all you "netizens" out there).  For a while, I've been pondering what I would list as the Top 5 Coolest TV Show Theme Songs of All Time.  (Please note that, to save a few arguments, I do not rank them in any order of coolness.  They just are.)  My problem is that I've only come up with three.

* Hawaii 5-0
* Doctor Who
* The Munsters

Any suggestions for the other two?  Please note that the show doesn't have to be cool, but the theme song does.  It doesn't have to be catchy.  It doesn't have to have words.  It just has to be cool.

Oh, and "cool is in the ear of the beholder".

I got my answer.

Almost a week ago, I asked, "I wonder what else I'm not getting?", in regards to my mail being forwarded (or not) from the Noog.  The other day, I received a (forwarded) notice that my request to extend my medical benefits under COBRA was denied because I had not provided a check after being notified that my request had been approved.

Seriously?  I mailed that request (with my new address) two months ago, and I never received a follow-up, so I assumed my request had been denied or lost in the mailroom of whatever data entry company was hired to muck up the process.  Now they're claiming they mailed me something, which never arrived, and they're still using my old address.

It's pointless to argue with them now, since I have no money to pay to extend my benefits, and (cross fingers) am being considered for two or three jobs, one of which I know provides benefits.  Now if I could just get the third company's head out of its collective you-know-where and interview me...