Monday, March 30, 2015

A least make two

Gene-splicing scientists are working to resurrect the extinct woolly mammoth. Also the thylacine, a sort of marsupial wolf that looked like a stripy skinny dog. Of course, it's not even kind of a dog. All marsupials are more closely related to each other than to any of the mammals to which they bear superficial morphological similarities. They're like us; what ends up shaping you is the niche you occupy. Which, getting back to the mammoth, is why I don't think it's a good idea. Can you imagine anything lonelier than being born 40 centuries after your last relative had died?

Monday, March 23, 2015

Also: Oboe. Banjo.


Remember the droll signs that used to get tacked up in storefront businesses and diners? They said things like, “Our credit manager is Helen Waite. If you want credit, go to Helen Waite.” Or “You don't have to be crazy to work here, but it helps.” Side-splitting. But there is such a thing as job-specific madness. Military commanders can sit around chatting over beer and pretzels while people are getting maimed and killed on their say-so. Comics feel compelled to expose their social anxiety defenses to drunk strangers. And pedal steel players? They deserve their own chapter in the DSM.

Monday, March 16, 2015

Special muttonchop citation to Q and Old Kinderhook


The first president with facial hair was Abraham Lincoln, the last was William Howard Taft. In between, just two were clean-shaven. From 1861 to 1913, only 8 years went by with a whiskerless White House. I assume this reflects the prevailing fashion all over the country during those years. And beards are the thing right now, especially among very young men. Not that little Van Dyke that allows an actor to portray his own evil twin; big Old Testament prophet whiskers on these shiny open unformed faces. Walking into a hipster bar is like stumbling into a bearded lady convention.

Monday, March 9, 2015

Like a big pizza pie


Our word amateur comes to us through the French from the Latin amator, from the root amare, to love. So an amateur is somebody who does something for love rather than money. A lot of times we use the word to imply a lack of skill. Certainly, I would hesitate to avail myself of the services of an amateur or “shade tree” dentist. But amateur poems and amateur cooking compare favorably with the output of any credentialed professional. And I gotta tell you, I'd sooner hop in the sack with an amateur than a seasoned pro. Sometimes, enthusiasm trumps expertise.

Monday, March 2, 2015

Oh. Lightbulbs.


A partial list of topics considered perennially funny: Mothers in law. Catholic school. Jewishness. Blind dates. Traveling salesmen. Two of anything entering a bar. A shipwrecked person. A golfer. Keith Richards, drug use of. Keith Richards, articulation of. Keith Richards, facial wrinkles of. Airline food. Arrivals at the gates of heaven and subsequent inquiries. Talking dogs. Talking frogs. Talking ducks. Talking bears. City folk visiting farmers. Farmers visiting city folk. Okay. That's some funny stuff there, alright. Of course, humor is largely a matter of impeccable comic timing. If you have not been amused, you were probably reading too fast.