Smart phone use

Half of all adults in the United States have smart phones or tablets. I am not one of them. I have fallen behind. I also don't have HDTV, text on my phone or have a flat screen TV. I used to keep lists of things that one needed in order to be a successful American. Here is a synopsis by year:
1970: A phone, a stereo, a car, a television set.
1980: Add a VCR, a microwave oven and a cassette player.
1990: Add a CD player and a computer.
2000: Add a DVD player, a notebook computer, a kayak, a cellphone and a house.
2010: Add  HDTV television and a GPS.
2012: Add a tablet and a smart phone. Scratch the cassette player.


Golly, you never catch up.

Rhubarb pie

"Beepop a ruooparb rhubarb pie". I finally ate rhubarb pie. I bought a pie at the Griggstown Quail Farm and produce market in scenic Griggstown New Jersey. Yes a series of serendipitous events has brought me to  Griggstown and made me a regular at the Tigers's Tale on Route 206. One never knows what roads may be traversed in life.

After years of listening to the Prairie Home Companion for years and hearing about the virtues of rhubarb pie my curiosity has been satiated. I enjoyed it, to a point, but don't know if I would have it again. Next I'll have to try genuine quail pot pie. 

Editor's note: A reader pointed out that the previous picture looks like a cherry pie. This photo looks like rhubarb to me. 

The Life of Brian

 When the Life of Brian came out, nobody burned the British embassy. How come?

Hobo Jack

One of the nice things about cable television is that occasionally when there is nothing on the regular channels or you've already seen the show, you can flip channels. Usually you come up with Gossip Girls or a religious show in Spanish but occasionally you come across a real gem. Monday night, for example, I discovered American Pickers, which was featuring an old codger named Hobo Jack. Hobo Jack lives "off the grid" in the woods, surrounded by collectible junk. Signs, old carburetors, 19th century lamps, etc. They are in barns that are hard to get into or scattered around the countryside.

Like many people we know, he is reluctant to part with anything. He always has plans for an item he is "going to use". Of course, we know that he will never rebuild that motorcycle or build a house out of elk antlers but he thinks he will. They do give him good prices for what he is willing to part with. He's not dumb, just a bit countrified.

The world needs more people like Hobo Jack. At least cable tv could use more of them.


Editor's note: I'm waiting for someone to tell me that Hobo Jack is a phony. He lives in a condo in Springfield and is really a retired professor from Cornell. He made a fortune in private equities, and sells stuff on E-Bay under a different name.

It's Granparents Day

So today is Grandparents Day. Did you send your grandparents a card? Did you send your grandparents a gift? Did you visit your grandparents? Did you call them?  What about people you know who are granparents (if not yours)? Did you remember them?

I am sorry but I didn't know about it and I missed the whole thing. Sorry Grandpa.

I ran a small business

I watched pieces of the the Republican convention. I learned how a woman with a child with Alzheimer's husband started making upholstery. Her family built that business, so they say. If you listen closely you might notice they sold to the Defense Department (government) the Little League (municipal government) Israel (had to be coordinated through the State Department) but they did it on their own. Well they wold have gotten a tax break if they had a handicapped child. Anyway, I began to think that  I have never run a small business. Then I remembered Tasty Maid.

My one experience of operating a small business occurred when an older guy on my block came up to me with an idea. "Look", he said, "the kids around here love Lik-m-Maid but they can't buy it on their own."  This was because they, unlike us, were not allowed to go on Essex Street, the commercial boulevard one block over.  "We can buy it at Breslow's and sell it to them at twice the price!"

My contribution to the business plan was twofold. We would put a cute label over the Lik-m-Maid label and call it Tasty Maid. We would also take the names of all the purchasers and put them in a contest. At the end of the month we would have a drawing and pick out a prize. I don't remember what the prize was.

On the fateful day, we put all the names in a jar and pulled out two names. The first was random and the second I cheated because my mother wanted to make sure one of the girls who had bought too much Tasty Maid would at least win a prize.

Here I learned the basic rules of business. Have a product people want. Repackage it to make a profit. Market the product. Keep your landlord happy. I wonder how my story would have gone over at the Republican convention.

Editor's note: The Republican convention had that pseudo patriotism that reminded me of the Art Linkletter show. That's what we all want. The return of Art Linkletter.

Spam and the Unconscious

I have just been cleaning out my spam or junk mail files in my e-mail. I do browse through the titles to make sure a long lost girlfriend or a publisher wishing to buy the rights to my blog hasn't been trying to contact me. Doing this I have discovered something. Spam is the secret to the subconscious mind.

If you secretly are worried about going bald or are searching for something in your life or have secret health concerns you probably did a search at some point. Advertisers are notified of your searches and they are reflected in your spam. Spam is like the Freudian inchoate subconscious. Read through your spam. It is talking to the real you. The hidden you. Your private red room of pain. Spam is the secret to the unconscious. There's a doctoral thesis lurking somewhere in my discovery.