Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Answering Machine Message
Hello, you've reached the home of Mark and Mark's Wife. We can't come to the phone right now. We are the only two humans who live here. If you don't want to speak to either of us hang up now, you won't get in touch with anyone else here. We speak English here. Neither of us is fluent in any other language, so if you don't speak English hang up, we won't understand you and you won't understand us. We're perfectly happy with our insurance, phone service, Internet access, exterminator, financial advisor and mortgage. Even if we weren't we wouldn't do business with you on the basis of a cold call, so don't waste your time or ours by leaving a message. Our siding, gutters and roof are in good condition, our chimney is clean, our furnace is in good repair, and our basement is waterproofed already. We're not interested in selling our home, buying a new home, buying a vacation home or buying a timeshare. We already give generously to a variety of charities, we don't decide which on the basis of messages left on our answering machine. We really don't believe you're calling to give us a free trip, a free camera, a free computer, or a free anything else. We're not fish, we know bait when we see it. We don't believe we've already won a million dollars. If you are a machine with a recorded message try to ignore the irony of two machines talking to each other and leave your message, we'll have our toaster get back to you. Please note that by leaving a message we offer no warranty, express or implied, that we will get the message or that we will return your call. If you still want to leave a message please do so after the beep. Or don't, it's entirely up to you. Beeeeeep
Monday, May 15, 2006
In Honor of Mother's Day
I didn't have a chance to post this over the weekend, but better late than never.
When God Created Mothers
by Erma Bombeck
When the good Lord was creating mothers, he was into his sixth day of overtime, when an angel appeared and said, "You're doing a lot of fiddling around on this one."
And the Lord said, "Have you read the spec on this one? She has to be completely washable, but not plastic; have 180 moveable parts, all replaceable; run on black coffee and leftovers; have a lap that disappears when she stands up, a kiss that can cure anything from a broken leg to a disappointed love affair, and six pair of hands.
"The angel shook her head slowly and said,"Six pairs of hands...no way."
"It's not the hands that are causing me problems," said the Lord."It's the three pairs of eyes that mothers have to have."
"That's on the standard model?" asked the angel.
The Lord nodded. "One pair that sees through closed doors when she asks, "What are you kids doing in there?" when she already knows. Another here, in the back of her head that sees what she shouldn't, but what she has to know, and of course the ones here in front that can look at a child when he goofs up and say, "I understand and I love you," without so much as uttering a word."
"Lord,"said the angel, touching his sleeve gently, "Rest for now. Tomorrow..."
"I can't," said the Lord. "I'm so close to creating something close to myself. Already I have one who heals herself when she is sick, can feed a family of six on one pound of hamburger and can get a nine year old to stand under a shower."
The angel circled the model of the mother very slowly. "She's too soft," she sighed.
"But tough!" said the Lord excitedly. "You cannot imagine what the mother can do or endure."
"Can she think?"
"Not only think, but she can reason and compromise," said the Creator. Finally the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek. "There's a leak," she pronounced. "I told you, you were trying to put too much into this model."
"It's not a leak," said the Lord. "It's a tear."
"What's it for?"
"It's for joy, sadness, disappointment, pain, loneliness and pride."
"You're a genius," said the angel.
The Lord looked somber, "I didn't put it there."
Mark D writing again:
My own mother died in 1990, May 24 to be exact. She was tough as an old boot and mules used to say among themselves "That woman is STUBBORN". She could produce more good food with less money than anyone I'd ever met. For instance after my Dad was disabled at work in the mid '70's their entire income was from Worker's Comp until the Disability Social Security kicked in (which given the inefficiencies of the Federal Government took a long time). The Worker's Comp check was $183.80 every two weeks, rent was $214 a month and she fed two adults and an 11 year old boy (the definition of skin stretched around an appetite), never borrowed money, never paid rent or utilities late, and we never went hungry. She'd walk to the electric company to pay the bill to save the money on the stamp and money order (never had a checking account). I remember those days, lots of pasta, lots of chicken. She was a high-school drop out, her mother took her out of school to help care for her eight siblings, but I've often referred to her as an uneducated genius, no one maintains a household like that without a good supply of brains. She loved animals, the last four pets she had were strays she picked up or animals that were too old to get by with other, younger animals that people had.
I'd be remiss now if I didn't mention my mother-in-law, who welcomed me into her family with open arms as she did the wives of my wife's three brothers. "Like a mother to me" is about the biggest compliment I can give any woman, and she is. It took me a couple months to start calling her "Mom" after my wife and I got married, but one day it just popped out and seemed right and that's what I've called her ever since.
When God Created Mothers
by Erma Bombeck
When the good Lord was creating mothers, he was into his sixth day of overtime, when an angel appeared and said, "You're doing a lot of fiddling around on this one."
And the Lord said, "Have you read the spec on this one? She has to be completely washable, but not plastic; have 180 moveable parts, all replaceable; run on black coffee and leftovers; have a lap that disappears when she stands up, a kiss that can cure anything from a broken leg to a disappointed love affair, and six pair of hands.
"The angel shook her head slowly and said,"Six pairs of hands...no way."
"It's not the hands that are causing me problems," said the Lord."It's the three pairs of eyes that mothers have to have."
"That's on the standard model?" asked the angel.
The Lord nodded. "One pair that sees through closed doors when she asks, "What are you kids doing in there?" when she already knows. Another here, in the back of her head that sees what she shouldn't, but what she has to know, and of course the ones here in front that can look at a child when he goofs up and say, "I understand and I love you," without so much as uttering a word."
"Lord,"said the angel, touching his sleeve gently, "Rest for now. Tomorrow..."
"I can't," said the Lord. "I'm so close to creating something close to myself. Already I have one who heals herself when she is sick, can feed a family of six on one pound of hamburger and can get a nine year old to stand under a shower."
The angel circled the model of the mother very slowly. "She's too soft," she sighed.
"But tough!" said the Lord excitedly. "You cannot imagine what the mother can do or endure."
"Can she think?"
"Not only think, but she can reason and compromise," said the Creator. Finally the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek. "There's a leak," she pronounced. "I told you, you were trying to put too much into this model."
"It's not a leak," said the Lord. "It's a tear."
"What's it for?"
"It's for joy, sadness, disappointment, pain, loneliness and pride."
"You're a genius," said the angel.
The Lord looked somber, "I didn't put it there."
Mark D writing again:
My own mother died in 1990, May 24 to be exact. She was tough as an old boot and mules used to say among themselves "That woman is STUBBORN". She could produce more good food with less money than anyone I'd ever met. For instance after my Dad was disabled at work in the mid '70's their entire income was from Worker's Comp until the Disability Social Security kicked in (which given the inefficiencies of the Federal Government took a long time). The Worker's Comp check was $183.80 every two weeks, rent was $214 a month and she fed two adults and an 11 year old boy (the definition of skin stretched around an appetite), never borrowed money, never paid rent or utilities late, and we never went hungry. She'd walk to the electric company to pay the bill to save the money on the stamp and money order (never had a checking account). I remember those days, lots of pasta, lots of chicken. She was a high-school drop out, her mother took her out of school to help care for her eight siblings, but I've often referred to her as an uneducated genius, no one maintains a household like that without a good supply of brains. She loved animals, the last four pets she had were strays she picked up or animals that were too old to get by with other, younger animals that people had.
I'd be remiss now if I didn't mention my mother-in-law, who welcomed me into her family with open arms as she did the wives of my wife's three brothers. "Like a mother to me" is about the biggest compliment I can give any woman, and she is. It took me a couple months to start calling her "Mom" after my wife and I got married, but one day it just popped out and seemed right and that's what I've called her ever since.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
TV Complaints
One thing that drives me nuts when I watch a TV show or movie is when the show presents information about things I know about, and the information is so completely wrong it's insane. Since I know a lot about computers, and history, and science this happens pretty often, which explains why I don't watch much TV.
The topic where it makes me the most crazy is guns though. Every time I see a bullet spark when it hits something I cringe, and I've seen movie bullets spark when they hit TREES.
I'm going to give some spoilers for last night's episode of House, so if you didn't see it yet and plan to stop reading.
What little I saw of this show last night, before I retired grumbling to the bedroom, revolved around a police officer who'd been shot, the bullet hit his vest, fragmented, and fragments shot upward and hit his eye socket lodging in his brain. We'll leave alone the fact that soft body armor is intended to capture a bullet, not fragment it, it COULD have hit something hard in his pocket before reaching the vest.
This being the show that it is, the cop had other serious medical issues besides hunks of metal in his skull. The preferred diagnostic was an MRI, but the doctors were afraid to perform an MRI because he was shot with a .38 Special hollowpoint, and those bullets are ferro-magnetic.
Huh?
I've fired and seen thousands of rounds of .38 Special cartidges, both hollowpoint and non-hollowpoint. Most have been basic lead alloys, some have been lead alloys with copper jackets. "ferro" means iron (I guess ferro sounds better than iron). Still, I guess it's possible that someone manufactured rounds with iron-based bullets (they used to make them in .22 specifically for use in shooting galleries with steel targets just so they would spark, they also wore out rifle barrels in a hurry). I have to ask myself why any sane engineer would design iron hollowpoint bullets for a .38 though. Hollowpoints are intended to expand to create a bigger wound and also to keep the slug from going completely thru the intended target and hitting someone else. The .38 Special is a low-velocity round, so if a bullet is going to expand it has to be made of soft stuff. Now what's softer, lead or iron?????
But wait, there's more! Our hero decides to test if the bullet in question posed a problem in an MRI, so he gets a similar cartridge, loads it in a revolver, and brings it to the morgue where he shoots a corpse with it, they then MRI the corpse to see what the bullet did.
Now, I'm no doctor, nor do I play one on TV, but I know enough about both bullets and MRI machines to figure out if a particular bullet would cause a problem in an MRI without having to use someone's dead relative for a test. I'd start by bringing my bullet, not to the morgue, but to the kitchen. I'd then pull a magnet off of the refridgerator and see if it would stick to the bullet. If so I know I'd have a problem. If not I'd probably, just for the sake of safety, pull the bullet from the cartridge and just MRI the bullet, if it flew in the machine I know we'd have a problem, if not I'd know we wouldn't.
Of course this wouldn't make for very good theater, which is the bottom line here. It's much more dramatic to make up a problem where one wouldn't exist in reality. It's much more dramatic to have a shocking method of determining if there's a problem than a simple method.
What happened? I didn't watch that far, maybe my wife will answer in the comments (hint hint).
The topic where it makes me the most crazy is guns though. Every time I see a bullet spark when it hits something I cringe, and I've seen movie bullets spark when they hit TREES.
I'm going to give some spoilers for last night's episode of House, so if you didn't see it yet and plan to stop reading.
What little I saw of this show last night, before I retired grumbling to the bedroom, revolved around a police officer who'd been shot, the bullet hit his vest, fragmented, and fragments shot upward and hit his eye socket lodging in his brain. We'll leave alone the fact that soft body armor is intended to capture a bullet, not fragment it, it COULD have hit something hard in his pocket before reaching the vest.
This being the show that it is, the cop had other serious medical issues besides hunks of metal in his skull. The preferred diagnostic was an MRI, but the doctors were afraid to perform an MRI because he was shot with a .38 Special hollowpoint, and those bullets are ferro-magnetic.
Huh?
I've fired and seen thousands of rounds of .38 Special cartidges, both hollowpoint and non-hollowpoint. Most have been basic lead alloys, some have been lead alloys with copper jackets. "ferro" means iron (I guess ferro sounds better than iron). Still, I guess it's possible that someone manufactured rounds with iron-based bullets (they used to make them in .22 specifically for use in shooting galleries with steel targets just so they would spark, they also wore out rifle barrels in a hurry). I have to ask myself why any sane engineer would design iron hollowpoint bullets for a .38 though. Hollowpoints are intended to expand to create a bigger wound and also to keep the slug from going completely thru the intended target and hitting someone else. The .38 Special is a low-velocity round, so if a bullet is going to expand it has to be made of soft stuff. Now what's softer, lead or iron?????
But wait, there's more! Our hero decides to test if the bullet in question posed a problem in an MRI, so he gets a similar cartridge, loads it in a revolver, and brings it to the morgue where he shoots a corpse with it, they then MRI the corpse to see what the bullet did.
Now, I'm no doctor, nor do I play one on TV, but I know enough about both bullets and MRI machines to figure out if a particular bullet would cause a problem in an MRI without having to use someone's dead relative for a test. I'd start by bringing my bullet, not to the morgue, but to the kitchen. I'd then pull a magnet off of the refridgerator and see if it would stick to the bullet. If so I know I'd have a problem. If not I'd probably, just for the sake of safety, pull the bullet from the cartridge and just MRI the bullet, if it flew in the machine I know we'd have a problem, if not I'd know we wouldn't.
Of course this wouldn't make for very good theater, which is the bottom line here. It's much more dramatic to make up a problem where one wouldn't exist in reality. It's much more dramatic to have a shocking method of determining if there's a problem than a simple method.
What happened? I didn't watch that far, maybe my wife will answer in the comments (hint hint).
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