In The Dog House

Hello World, Happy (almost) Halloween! Monday will be the time for the ghouls and goblins to put in their annual appearance, although in communities where they have Halloween parades, parties, or festivals, they have long since started with those events, weeks ago. A normal person might find that sort of thing alarming, but I'm sure we've all long since gotten acclimatized to much worse, alas. Bill and I were at the supermarket last week, where I was surprised to find myself standing in front of a huge display of Halloween candy, which was right next to a large outcropping of turkey and pilgrim paper plates, cups, and napkins, which was immediately adjacent to a giant pallet full of Christmas wrapping paper. This area essentially covered around 25% of the entire year in about 15 feet of floor space, and reminds us of the absurdity of rampant consumerism run amok, with its attendant "holiday creep" that somehow seems to get worse every year. I expect to see Valentine hearts at any time now, and left-over marshmallow Peeps not far behind. Speaking of old left-overs, the World Series is underway now, featuring the plucky Chicago Cubs making their first appearance in 71 years, and the Cleveland Indians, who have appeared in the Fall Classic six times in the club's 116-year history, winning it all in 1920 and 1948. Honestly, first the Red Sox and now the Cubs - these old baseball curses aren't what they used to be, that's for sure. Also on the sports scene, I heard an announcer on the radio giving the local scores, and while he was at it, he added in this curious tidbit about the percentage of people watching sports who are legally drunk at the time, which is generally considered to be almost 10% or so. He was of the opinion that number sounded high - that is, except for Jets fans (oh, hit that easy target!) wallowing in the anguish of their team's pitiful performance of gridiron ignominy, who should probably be drinking collectively at the rate of 100% after all these years, or even higher, if only mathematics would allow for such a thing. Garcon, more beer goggles, if you please, and step on it! And speaking of things that are high, as it were, this would be a good time to wrap up some loose ends that have unexpectedly all congregated together. Alert readers may recall a previous mention of the Melt Mobile grilled cheese food truck, and WiFi treat dispensers for your pets, as well as the Seattle Barkery, a locally famous food truck for dogs. "But wait," as they say on TV, "that's not all!" Once again thanks to social media, we now know that doting dog owners can indulge man's best friend with Bark Box, a subscription service that you can sign up for, and they deliver the perfect doggie delights right to your door every month. (And please do feel free to go right ahead and visit their web site at www.barkbox.com and see for yourself.) This is straight from the pooch's mouth: [[ A monthly box of dog goodies. Here's how it works. Choose your dog size - Tell us how big your dog's bark is, we've got goodies for every dog size. Every month, we paw-pick fun toys, healthy treats, and innovative gadgets that will drive pups bonkers. ]] Well, that certainly gives the canines a whole new reason to be nice to the mailman for a change, not to mention, something to look forward to while they're waiting for a trip to the doggie food truck. Besides which, no doubt Fido would be pleased to know that every order helps Bark Box support over 3,000 non-profit rescue groups and shelters nationwide, for those less fortunate hounds without a family to splurge on them. For Rover's busy parents on the go, of course there's an app for it, so no need to slow down that tail-wagging delivery service just because you're out of the (dog) house. And finally, also thanks to social media, we learn that there is no lack, across the vast information super-highway in cyberspace, of recipes for healthy treats for your dog. One flavor that is all the rage these days (and no wonder) describes itself as Peanut Butter and Hemp dog treats, with assurances that they are "delicious and super easy to make at home." (Because on top of everything else, all we need is high pets, after all - and I don't need our old friends the dinosaurs in The Peanut Gallery with their exaggerated eye-rolling to substantiate that, by golly.) They go on to elaborate, apparently without irony, "Don't be surprised when they perform tricks without commands." I'll just bet they do! Oh well, if nothing else, it certainly gives new meaning to the phrase "Top Dog," I dare say. Last week, I settled down to watch one of my tiny house shows, where people down-size into small spaces, but soon realized instead of that, the TiVo had inadvertently recorded one of those fix-it-yourself renovation programs on HGTV, this one focusing on a mother and her 4 daughters who bought back their derelict old family home after 30 years. It had been abandoned by the last owners, who had apparently spirited away in the dead of night with their coat-tails flapping behind them, so everything was left just as it was when they flew out of there at a gallop and headed for the hills, so to speak. When the original family came back to repossess it, they were astonished to discover that there were many of their old belongings still hanging about the old place, not just furniture like tables and cabinets, but household items like VHS movies, wall decor, kitchen gadgets, and games. The girls were delighted to find the old dining room table and chairs that they thought were a particular favorite of their mother's, who sadly left them behind for lack of room in the moving van - only to have their mother soundly disabuse them of that sappy notion, and state that she always hated that set and was glad to see it go. The interim owners also neglected to replace the outrageously awful 1950's era kitchen wallpaper (and which the dinosaurs and the rest of us can remember all too well, and don't try to pretend that you don't) with its colorful cascades of grapevines, wishing wells, climbing roses, and tumble-down rock walls scattered all over it) which prompted one of the daughters to observe, "It always made me wonder what were you thinking," while another retorted instead: "What were you drinking?" My favorite part was when the oldest sister complained that The Golden Years presented unwanted challenges, such as, it was not unusual that she could sneeze so hard that it would make her pee. "So, don't make me laugh" she ordered everyone sternly, "because the bathroom doesn't work." I hear you, girlfriend, believe me. Something else that is no laughing matter is a new game that I've been playing on my phone, called Languinis, from our friends at VRTron and Tilting Point, and not for the faint-hearted, I can tell you that. It starts out looking like an ordinary Match-3 game, but you soon realize that it has much more strategy involved, and you've really got to be on your toes. Unlike regular matching games where the matched pieces drop off the board, here they turn into letter tiles that you use to make words using standard Scrabble rules. Each level has its own challenges, such as "Score 10,000 points," "Make 5 matches with blue flowers and 5 matches with red fruits," "Make 6 words that begin with T, or 3 words of 7 letters or more, or within a certain time limit" etc. In addition, there's the occasional level where you have to free the trapped Languinis, which are cute egg-shaped aliens caught in the game board, and it's your job to spring them loose. In order to do that, you must create a conduit for them to reach from the top of the playing surface all the way down to the bottom, where they can pop out to freedom. That's not as easy as it sounds, because first you have to match 3 squares below them, which instead of clearing a space for your captive Languini to slip through, turn into letter tiles, that you then have to craft into some sort of coherent word, in order for the tiles to drop off the board, and blaze a trail for the escaping Languini to follow - and don't forget, do all of this while meeting the challenges of the level to score points or create specific words, and not run out of moves while you're at it. Whew! It would be sort of like playing chess while juggling and trying to avoid being tackled all at the same time, thanks not. It will come as a surprise to nobody that I'm only at Level 24 of Languinis, and not likely to get much further at this rate, and for the poor trapped aliens who are waiting for me to rescue them, well, I'm afraid I have some pretty discouraging news for them. Frankly, this sounds like more of a job for Tom Terrific and his faithful companion, Mighty Manfred the Wonder Dog, but I'm thinking that Manfred would probably have to ease up on the peanut butter and hemp first. Elle

I'll Vote For That

Hello World, Well, all I can say is that it's a good thing that we're not all given to wanton hysterics or incoherent tantrums, and frankly, outright despair might not be out of the question either, the way things are going around here. After six weeks of football, the Patriots and Cowboys are running away with things at identical 5-1 records, although the Vikings have them beat on percentage points by still being undefeated after 5 games. Both the Giants and Jets are wallowing in the bottom of their respective divisions, with Big Blue showing slightly better at 3-3 than Gang Green at a woeful 1-5, and hard to get much worse than that and still be considered a professional football team, after all. Meanwhile in baseball, the Cleveland Indians have secured their spot in the World Series, and just waiting for the winner of the Cubs-Dodgers series to see who they're going to play against for all the marbles. Of course, this leaves disappointed fans in cities all over the map, and perhaps none more so than in Toronto, where their scrappy Blue Jays squeaked into the Wild Card at the end of the regular season, and promptly blew out Baltimore and Texas handily, before smacking into the brick wall that is Cleveland, who quickly dashed their hopes in the second round, alas. The NBA hasn't started playing games yet for real, but they've got about 5 under their collective belts in hockey already, with the Canadiens, Canucks, and Capitals all undefeated so far (I can assure you that I'm not making up these alliterative teams for dramatic effect, it really is true, believe it or not) and the hapless Rangers limping along at an underwhelming 2-2 now. I'm starting to get the feeling that this could be a very long winter, in more ways than one. Speaking of more ways, I'm sure I'm not the only person, when faced with the prospect of a supposedly resealable product, has never had any success in getting the zipper re-connected in such a way as to re-close the package once again. It may not matter so much if it's a package full of cup hooks or rubber bands that might not manage to escape on their own, but it's much more critical if you're dealing with food items that could easily spill, spoil, or fall victim to marauding varmints if not properly contained. We have our friends at Lundberg Family Farms to thank for the following innovation in their Wild Blend Rice (and before you ask where was this brilliant invention over the last 150 years of packaging, please be advised that the family farmers at Lundberg have only been in business since 1937) which is that the package closes with sturdy Velcro instead of a spindly plastic zipper, and thanks ever so. How genius is that! I don't know how or when they came up with this brainstorm, but all I have to say is, "Give that person a raise, by golly!" On the other side of the coin, I was rudely interrupted by a pop-up ad last week, for one of those gambling web sites where I could play their electronic slots, card games, or other games of chance, to while away the hours in the privacy of my own computer screen, and with any luck, WIN BIG BIG BIG!!! Obviously, they didn't want me to miss out on this opportunity, so their ad was very persistent in its efforts to encourage me to "Sign Up For Your Free Trail Today!" Although I doubt that their actual intention was to sign me up for a free "trail," I faced no difficulty in turning them down on the grounds that I had no need for a trail, track, path, route, way, course, or passage, free or not. Honestly, sometimes you just don't know whether to laugh or cry, and believe me, I've tried both to no avail. In other technology news, alert readers may have noticed this little electronic parlor trick making the rounds through Facebook under the tantalizing announcement: "YOUR PHONE HAS A NAME!" That isn't actually the case, although for whatever reason, it is true that you can exploit an arcane feature of Facebook to make it look that way. For instance, if your phone number was 987-6543, you would enter the last 3 numbers into the Comment section of a standard Facebook post, in the following exact pattern: @[543:0] and you would be rewarded with a random name that the software generates for you - something along the lines of HILDA FRAK or DIEGO VILLALOBOS or some other such nonsense, that is only notable for the fact that you can tell at a glance that it's not you. This should work with any 3-digit number, and theoretically, should return the same generated name for the same number each time, no matter who does it, or from where, or when. And like many things on the Internet these days, heaven knows, there's no purpose to being able to do this (although there are pages upon pages of search results in geek-speak trying to explain why this does or doesn't work, or where the names come from) but that wouldn't stop people from trying it, not by a long shot, and I ought to know. Just tell them CASSIDY OGLETHORPE sent you. Now, anyone who knows me can tell you that I am apolitical to a fault, and the last time I took sides in an election, it was when Thak was running for The Dirt Party on the platform of introducing the wheel - against his Troglodyte opponent, who naturally, was opposed to anything so radical and futuristic. (Personally, I said that no good could come of it, and while I hate to be smug, I think it's only fair to admit that history has borne me out on that point, and then some.) But wherever anybody may fall on the political spectrum, I believe that we can all agree that this presidential election has been one for the books, and not necessarily in a good way, and in fact, I anticipate more than the usual amount of write-in votes for the likes of Mickey Mouse, Darth Vader, Elvis Presley, or Rin Tin Tin, and that's not just Captain Kangaroo talking, believe me. So you can be sure that I was more than ready when this came my way in the wonderful wide world of social media on Facebook, and I couldn't get on board fast enough. (Although in fairness, plenty of eager folks pounced on this with enthusiasm way before I got there.) ================================= DESCRIBE THIS ELECTION USING ONLY A MOVIE TITLE - Liar, Liar The Hero & The Terror How to Get Away with Murder Lost in Space We Bought a Zoo I Know What You Did Last Summer The Hunger Games Whiskey Tango Foxtrot Les Miserables 10 Things I Hate About You Night of the Living Dead Lost Imitation of Life Apocalypse Now Nightmare on Elm Street Titanic Witches Dumb & Dumber Clash of the Titans Groundhog Day The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly (that was my contribution) And my personal favorite - The Rocky Horror Picture Show ======================================= Oh, ya gotta love it! One can only imagine that somewhere off in The Great Beyond, our poor beleaguered Founding Fathers are lounging around with a large bowl of popcorn and having a great big laugh at our expense - because let's face it, you've got to laugh to keep from crying. I just hope they're not watching "Armageddon." Elle

Come Clean

Hello World, Well, you know that things are really moving along when we've gotten past the Jewish holidays already, the bloom has totally worn off the new back-to-school semester, Oktoberfest has been in full swing since September (albeit incongruously) and still going strong, and sprouting up like weeds everywhere, there are elaborate haunted houses and jack-o'-lantern blazes, well in advance of Halloween. Of course, the stores have been awash in fun-size candies for trick-or-treat since August, so that doesn't really count at this point. We had some cool crisp days here for a bit, but then it warmed up again, and there's no hiding the culprits this time, I'm afraid. For one, Bill took the air conditioners out of the upstairs windows, and in addition, out of concern for overnight frost, I pulled in my potted mini rosebush from outdoors and hung it up on the porch next to the bedroom. All I need to do now is break out my birdbath heater, in order to usher in a global heat wave that would rival the stifling volcanic period of the planet's prehistoric era, when the dinosaurs and I roamed the vast unformed land masses in the primordial ooze, and I ought to know. In local news, I was at church last week to meet the fire extinguisher guy, and when I opened the door, I couldn't help but notice that the alarm was not set when I got inside. Now, I don't mind saying that we are very security conscious at church, so I was naturally somewhat, well, alarmed at this turn of events. So I hurried downstairs to see if anyone else was in the building at the time, and found the minister's wife up on a ladder cleaning out cabinets in the fellowship hall, and listening to a CD of Christmas carols, of all things while she was at it. I don't know which of us jumped higher, although in fairness, she had a 6-foot advantage over me because of the ladder. But honestly, Christmas carols and not even the middle of October yet, I consider that just way too much for my tastes, and that's not just Ebenezer Scrooge talking, Bob Cratchit. It may be October, but it's not too early to start thinking about Lessons & Carols, the annual holiday event we have each year at church in the beginning of December, featuring Christmas carols, favorite hymns of the season, and Bible readings that recount the Nativity Story right from the start. Every year, I try to add in one special duet with myself and another person, just to inject some variety into it, since much of the program, by necessity, is pretty much the same from year to year. This time around, I decided to take my chances with the pastor of the Anglican Church that uses our building to worship on Sunday afternoons, and in spite of a somewhat challenging language barrier between us, I believed that he very graciously agreed to my request. I honestly thought that we would team up on a well-known piece for the occasion (such as "O Holy Night," for example) or that he would just ask me to pick something appropriate, and he would go along with it. Instead, and I don't mind saying much to my surprise, he pulled out all the stops and actually wrote a special piece of music for us to sing together, words and music, and certainly not at all what I envisioned when the idea first came to me, that's for sure. This came to light when he brought me a legal pad with lyrics scrawled on it, and asked me to type them up so we could rehearse them, and then sang the tune to me a cappella so I could learn it and sing along. We didn't have much time to practice, so I used the computer in the church office to type up the lyrics as fast as I could, and using a program that I'm not very familiar with, but trying my best. Of course, everyone knows that the Savior of a fallen humanity is known by many names, but I think we were both understandably taken aback when we got to the line where He was referred to in my version as "Emmanuel, Redeemer of the World, Prince of Peach," rather than the more commonly recognized (and with good reason!) "Prince of Peace" as it should have been. Now it goes without saying that I like a good joke as much as the next fellow, but let's face it, Christmas music is no place for citrus fruits, and that's not just the partridge in a pear tree talking, believe me. Also on the local scene, last week I was feeling a little bit down in the dumps, so Bill thought it would cheer me up if we took the Aveo to the nearby car wash to have it cleaned and detailed by the friendly and courteous crew there. I jumped on board this idea like a shot, because much of the car was still full of leaves, twigs, bark, and sand from being on vacation in the woods for a week, and desperately in need of a good sprucing up. The competent staff tore into the vehicle like a herd of busy beavers, and there's even a machine that washes the floor mats separately, so nothing is overlooked. When it came out at the end, it was shiny like a sparkly ruby ring, and the windows were so clean that they were just about invisible to the naked eye - and except for the printing where it says SAFEGARD, you would be forgiven for believing that the windows were wide open. Once I got inside, I found the hard surfaces were so slippery that I had to wear textured garden gloves just to get a grip on the steering wheel, and when I tossed the keys onto the dashboard, they slid completely across to the opposite side of the car, and dropped unceremoniously onto the floor, thanks not. It also came home sporting a vast array of aromas from the many different exterior and interior cleaning products, and I can assure you, not a twig or grain of sand anywhere in sight. The car looked like a million bucks, and I felt like a fairy princess out in an enchanted carriage, so I guess you could say that it was a perfect pick-me-up for both of us. Of course, this means that now if anyone wants to get in my car, first they have to wear white gloves and take their shoes off, and that goes double for Prince Charming. Alert readers may remember that last week, one of our topics was Melt Mobile, the grilled cheese food truck, and another was the WiFi treat dispenser for your precious pooch. A normal person might think that there would be no opportunity for intermingling of these subjects, and feel secure in the rectitude of that belief, because after all, the alternative would be nothing short of mind-boggling. Not so fast! (And need I mention, "This Is Why The Terrorists Hate Us?") Once again we have social media to thank for bringing this to our attention: ===================================================== A FOOD TRUCK FOR FIDO Washington Has Its First Food Truck For Dogs The popularity of food trucks in the United States has exploded recently, and in almost every major city there are a few that specialize in a particular style or flavor profile. This is great because it gives people options to eat foods that they may not have before. This is good for humans, but what about dogs? Is there a food truck for them somewhere? In Washington, the answer is YES! The Seattle Barkery [ya gotta love it!] is a new mobile café for dogs. Everything they make and serve is aimed towards giving dogs a similar freedom of choice like we as humans have. Seattle has more dogs than kids, so this food truck fits in with the lifestyle and vibe of the city. The truck is run by co-creators Ben and Dawn Ford. According to Dawn, “There were a lot of recalls on dog treats, grocery store brands especially, and I didn’t feel safe not knowing what treats I could use. I started making my own treats and the dogs started loving them.” Popular offerings include dried chicken bites, "pupcakes" with bacon, mini cheesy doughnuts, pumpkin pretzels, and peanut butter-banana cookies. The concept is new and rare enough that dog-less people occasionally misunderstand and purchase a treat. "They end up ordering something, and they seem weirded out by it," Ford said. Some people just don’t get the idea of the food truck being geared towards dogs. They find that people will order something from the menu, thinking that it’s meant for human consumption. It’s not that they don’t have food and such to offer the humans as well, but a beefy carrot bagel is intended for your dog. It’s either that, or they get mistaken for a hot dog truck. They use many forms of social media, where you can click to be taken to a schedule. You can even meet their rescue dog Sherman, who is often traveling from place to place with them. The Fords also put out a tip jar, but want people to understand that the tips don’t go to the humans working the truck. They actually donate the tips to the Old Dog Haven, which takes care of senior dogs. Think of it like a retirement center for dogs. [Garcon, more pupcakes, if you please!] ======================================================== So there you have it, food fans, a modern-day success story with a happy ending for dogs and their people on the go. They say they're expanding their menu to include treats for cats, and I'd love to hit the road and chase after them, but I'm still trying to find my car keys on the floor of the Chevy. Elle

Sail Ho!

Hello World, Happy Columbus Day weekend! Of course it's unfortunately true that Christopher Columbus is such a social pariah these days that they probably don't even teach about him in school nowadays, much less observe his birthday as a holiday anymore, and more's the pity, I'm sure. Around here, the temperature has finally started cooperating with the season, reluctantly turned down the blast furnace on the summer that would not quit, and produced some glorious fall days that are crisp and clear, to make even the staunchest city dwellers among us long for hot apple cider, football mums, and hay rides, by golly. Meanwhile on television at the moment, they're already showing pre-season hockey and basketball, and even now, full of fights and trash talk, as if these games meant anything in the overall scheme of things for the upcoming season. If this is any indication, it looks like we can't count on much smooth sailing ahead, and that's not just Christopher Columbus talking, believe me. In other seasonal news, there is no joy in Mudville, as the hapless Mets limped into the post-season as the second Wild Card team, and then promptly lost the Wild Card playoff game to San Francisco in extra innings, thanks not. On the other hand, it was probably just as well, since with their heralded pitching staff depleted by injuries, they never would have been able to survive multiple rounds of playoffs on the way to the World Series, especially without a robust offense to overcome their pitching deficiencies, alas. And frankly, I would not have cared much for their chances (or anyone else's, for that matter) against the buzz-saw that is the Chicago Cubs, who set a blistering pace during the regular season while racking up 103 wins in a 162-game season, and leaving everyone else choking in the dust of their wake through it all. (Although it's only fair to point out that the 2001 Seattle Mariners won 116 games under the leadership of "Sweet" Lou Piniella, and were blown out in 5 games in the second round of the playoffs, and never made it to the World Series after all - so I guess it only goes to show that there's more than one cautionary tale to be considered on the road to post-season glory, and a great regular season record is no guarantee of success later on, heaven knows.) It should be interesting times ahead for the likes of cities as diverse as Boston, Cleveland, Fort Worth, Los Angeles, and Washington D.C., but as everyone knows, we bleed Mets blue in this house, so they'll be carrying on without us this time around. "Wait until next year!" In other disappointing news, we recently had occasion to be in Yonkers late in the afternoon, and took advantage of proximity to have dinner at Pizzeria Uno on Central Park Avenue, where we had been a few times before, and glad of it. Unfortunately, the evil minions at Pizzeria Uno corporate headquarters (who apparently have nothing better to do with their time) decided once again to revamp their menu options, summarily chopping out two of our favorite choices, the lasagna stackers and baked torteloni, and once again, thanks so very much not. Of course, you don't find these things out until you've already parked the car, and taken your seat inside, and perusing the menu, so it does no good at that point to get up and stamp out of there - although I would be less than candid if I didn't say that the idea definitely crossed our minds. We ended up sharing a personal pan pizza instead, but it was certainly not the same thing, and let's face it, you can basically have pizza any place, and not have to make a special trip clear across the county for it. This omission really leaves us with no other reason to go back to Pizzeria Uno in the first place, since the rest of their menu selections are pretty much widely available elsewhere, and like Denny's, we only go there for these specialty items that make the trip worthwhile. So once again, we've run aground on the rocky shoals of that swirling vortex known as "progress," and which we all know by now, can be a double-edged sword, especially in the wrong hands. Just ask Christopher Columbus. And speaking of food, thanks to social media, we can all keep up with the travels of far-flung friends, relatives, former coworkers, relocated neighbors, business associates, or Norwegian Strangers, right in the palm of our hands, and most of the time, whether we want to or not. Recently I saw some pictures posted from a happy crowd enjoying a snack near the band shell at a community festival, and they were quick to praise Melt Mobile for the food. (And please do feel free to go right ahead and visit their web site at www.melt-mobile.com and see for yourself.) This may come as news to some of us, but if you're anything like me, you would want to track these people down, and at a trot, I don't mind saying. Their motto at Melt Mobile is: "Life Ain't Easy, Take It Cheesy!" and if this isn't right up my alley, well frankly, I don't know what is. Here's how they describe it (and please heed this warning to back away from your computer so you don't drool all over the keyboard) "This isn't your ordinary food truck. We're a gourmet grilled cheese truck specializing in creative, comforting sandwiches made with local artisanal breads, imported and local cheeses, and the highest quality fresh organic ingredients." Sign me up! Their varied menu includes the Original Melt of Vermont cheddar, Monterey Jack, mozzarella and Gruyere on country white bread (YUM!) as well as The Caprese with mozzarella, prosciutto, fire-roasted peppers, tomato, arugula and pesto aioli on Kalamata olive bread, of all things. They even have the diet-conscious Svelt Melt featuring low-fat Jarlsberg cheese, oven-roasted turkey, Roma tomatoes, and whole-grain honey mustard on a grilled 7-grain bun. You can indulge in other tasty selections made with jalapeno poppers, BBQ pulled pork, caramelized onions, grilled Angus burgers, meatballs in marinara sauce, real Parmigiano Reggiano, and cheddar-crusted Tuscan bread. You can believe me when I say that they may be in a truck, but they can't go fast enough to out-run me, and that's a plain fact. Actually, you don't even have to chase them down: "Throw a party at work or play! Have Melt Mobile drive up to your next event, where our rolling kitchen, custom menus, and no-fuss set-up will ensure a convenient and memorable occasion." What's not to love! I don't know if they offer franchise opportunities, but I certainly hope not - I can tell you for sure that if I had one of their trucks, I would eat all of the food myself before I made any money selling any of it. Here is something else that is on the subject of food (so to speak) but at our house, we file things like this under the category of: "This Is Why The Terrorists Hate Us." This was also all over social media lately, about ways to interact with your pet when you're out, and they're at home by themselves, or as they put it: "Chat with your pet and feed them treats when you're not there." And believe it or not, even a cursory online search will reveal that there is not one, not two, or three, but FOUR of these devices (iCPooch, Pawbo, PetChatz and Petzi) and that's without even looking hard for it, and I ought to know. These modern marvels include a tiny monitor (like a cell phone screen) and WiFi so your pet can see and hear you from your remote location, wherever you are. They come with a tray that you can activate to dispense a treat (Petzi comes with a launcher, so you can toss the treats for them to play with) and some even come with a diffuser to emit soothing scents to help keep the wee beasties calm and contented in your absence. The apparatus can stand on the floor by itself, but to protect against rambunctious dogs or mischievous cats, can be mounted on a wall or cage instead, and can be accessed by any smart phone, tablet, or laptop with an Internet connection. They range in price from about $200 - $400, which may seem like a lot, unless you compare it with a lonely Fido chewing up a pair of expensive shoes and handbag, or bored Fluffy shredding your custom French pleat taffeta silk drapes, when you're not around to give them attention. Their web sites would be happy to provide you with all the poop (perhaps an unfortunate turn of phrase under the circumstances) so you can decide for yourself if the added peace of mind is worth it to enhance the sense of well-being for your pampered pet. As for myself, I'll be galloping after the Melt Mobile truck, and the cats are on their own. Elle

Shiny Bright

Hello World, Happy Jewish New Year! The time has come to wish "L'Shana Tovah!" to one and all, as Rosh Hashanah arrives at sundown on Sunday, with Yom Kippur hard on its heels the following Tuesday, the 11th. This being a movable feast, you never know where they might show up from one year to the next, and are often much earlier in September, sometimes coinciding with the opening of the new school year, right after Labor Day. So it does seem like they are on the tardy side this time around, but none the less welcome for all that, and sure to bring with them all the trappings and traditions of the season that everyone has come to expect, I dare say. In other chronological news, it's nothing short of amazing that September could be folding up its tents and spiriting away in the dead of night, and we could suddenly find ourselves confronted with October, of all things, and woefully unprepared for the prospect, by the looks of it, and I ought to know. Or as one wag put it so eloquently on my Twitter feed last week: "Add 'breathe' and 'swallow' to your To Do List, so at least you have something to cross off at the end of the day." Amen to that, brother! And while we're on the subject of social media, we all realize that brevity is the hallmark of electronic communications these days, heaven knows, and just about everyone except for the most backward Troglodytes would recognize familiar shortcuts such as LOL, FYI, BTW, ASAP, or IMHO showing up regularly enough as to be commonplace everywhere you turn. (They've even managed to migrate across species already, so you're just as likely to encounter BOL for your pooch or MOL for your kitty, and probably a whole menagerie of others, specific to birds, reptiles, fish, or even our old friends the dinosaurs, I shouldn't wonder.) So I was understandably caught up short when presented with "ADSO" in an email, which was unknown to me up until that point, and I mentioned to Bill that in spite of giving it a lot of thought, I could come up with nothing that it would stand for. I had the feeling that I was on the wrong side of the digital divide, and being left in the dust as the modern world tramped forever onward, with me relegated to the scrap heap of history with the cast-offs of outmoded gadgets and gizmos of yesteryear, and out of touch with the rest of society. Of course, Bill is our technology maven around the old homestead, and he was happy to provide the answer to my conundrum: ================================== Sorry, this is a memory thing, not a touch thing. I think it was Jay who first passed it along -- "Attention Deficit Shiny Object". =================================== Ah yes, it all makes perfect sense now. In fact, it's so pervasive in our hectic culture that time management experts refer to it as "Shiny Object Syndrome," and decry its harmful effects on productivity. (Spoilsports!) The rest of us can use it to excuse any variety of faux pas, mental lapses, mistakes, mishaps, or just plain out-and-out wool-gathering, and now have a fancy new moniker to rationalize it with. So the next time you spot ADSO anywhere in your travels through cyberspace, now at least you'll be able to ..... OH LOOK, DONUTS!!! Where was I? Of course, it's all too easy to get distracted nowadays, that goes without saying, but the time to guard most zealously against that is when you're driving, not only for your own sake, but the safety of everyone else around you. On the other hand, all too often it's the other guy who's the problem, and precious little you can do to keep from becoming just another statistic out there on the mean streets, where anything can happen and usually does. Last week as I was tooling around town, I noticed that the car behind me was so close that the driver could easily put on make-up using my rearview mirror, thanks not. I was glad to reach an intersection where I turned and they went straight, although I had to wonder if they left their bronzer in my back seat while they were at it. And speaking of driving around town, I recently found myself behind a truck from our friends at Thunder Fuel Oil, whose logo is apparently two crossed lightning bolts - and while this may be someone's idea of an appropriate representation of thunder, it's actually rather incongruous in terms of the technical definition of thunder as compared with lightning, after all. Which is not to say that you could really come up with a good visual representation of thunder in the first place, in fact I can't think of anything that would fit the bill on that score, but hey, they needed to think of that before they called themselves Thunder Fuel Oil to begin with, and not just go ahead and pick up two lightning bolts out of a hat for no reason. Although truth to tell, I'm not sure that Lightning Fuel Oil would have been much of an improvement, as the concept of lightning combined with fuel oil might be just a little too inflammatory for my tastes, and thank you so much not. Meanwhile on the home front, we have a ceiling fixture in our kitchen with a very pretty Tiffany-style shade, that has served us well in a functional and decorative way since just about forever. It takes a standard 60-watt bulb, and provides plenty of light in all directions, which is just what we need it to do. Of course, regular old incandescent bulbs are a social pariah nowadays, and (apparently having nothing better to do) the federal government has stepped in to regulate them out of existence, or know the reason why, so trying to get your hands on one now (especially the 100-watt, which you pretty much have to scavenge through the black market by way of Mexico) is often way more trouble than it's worth, even for us cantankerous old dinosaurs, roaming the vast unformed land masses in the primordial ooze. So that was how we found ourselves at the supermarket recently and picking up one of those newfangled bulbs that they have now, and vowing to make the best of it, come what may. Unfortunately, the new light was so icy blue and so glaring that it was impossible to live with, and I say that as someone whose admiration of the legendary Thomas Alva Edison knows no bounds. Now, it's true that during the daytime, you only had to wear sunglasses in the kitchen to cut down on the brightness somewhat, but I turned it on at night and was immediately contacted by the Intergalactic Federation Council, who demanded that we turn it off at once, or they would be forced to deploy their Imperial Storm Troopers our way, in order to prevent alien spaceships distracted by its blazing pyrotechnics from crashing into each other in the infinite blackness of outer space. Frankly, I can't say that I blamed them one bit, but to be fair, our friends at General Electric refer to this product (perhaps ironically) as their General Purpose LED Daylight 42-watt bulb, and we felt perfectly safe when we originally picked it out - although honestly, the only place I can think that this would replicate daylight in any way would have been on the planet Krypton, which famously had two suns, and this bulb would probably have fit right in. On the plus side, if you need something with this kind of firepower, you can pick it right up in your neighborhood grocery store, and be an interstellar sensation in one fell swoop, and Thomas Alva Edison right along with you, by golly. Anyway, that's my story and I'm sticking to it, or my name isn't ..... OH LOOK, DONUTS!!!