In Support of Two Spaces

The punctuation police are after me.  They’ll probably catch me too, because I take the time to put that extra space between sentences – that extra space for quality and clarity. (space, space)  That extra space to contemplate, to savor the sentence just ended before plowing on to the unknown expressions and sentiments to follow.  I put an extra space at the end of each sentence because I care – not only for the quality of my work, but to show my personal appreciation of you… the reader.

Not buying it?

Alright – it’s just because I’m used to it.

The language police are after me.  They’ll probably catch me too, because I frequently use the single word, alright instead of the two words all right.  I thought both forms were acceptable, two words to denote that all things are right, and one word to show that everything is OK.  I was doing it for clarity, because I care – not only for the quality of my work, but to show my personal appreciation of you… the reader.

Not buying it?

OK – it’s just because I’m used to it.

The abbreviation police are after me.  They’ll probably catch me too, because I use the capital letters OK instead of including periods after each letter.  They tell me if I want to skip the periods, I should write okay instead.  Alright, OK, I’m not going to BS you.  I don’t care about the clarity.  I don’t care about the quality.  I don’t even care about you… the reader.

I just want to get these grammar, punctuation, abbreviation police off my back.  I just want to write my blog in peace.

So I will continue to use a hyphen – instead of a dash -- to show an elongated pause in my sentence.  I will still think of @ to denote approximately instead of at.  I will call # the number sign instead of pound sign (the nineteen nineties) or hashtag (the two thousand teens.)  I will continue to write and understand the language as I learned it (or thought I learned it,) when I was in Mrs. Buswick’s 7^th grade English class.

And if the punctuation, grammar, abbreviation, and English nomenclature police find me and put me away in a parenthesis shaped cell, I won’t complain, I won’t bother people who drop the soap in the shower, I won’t make trouble for anyone.  I’ll just sit in my cell, write my blog, and eat Pop Tarts.

But I’ll still leave two spaces after each period.

Yes - I may have used the vid before - but the Grammar Police are already after me so...

You Say Your Day Sucks?

You're telling me your day sucks?  Let's look into it.

It all starts out in the usual way.

There may be a minor mix-up with the morning brew.

But it could be worse.

The donuts aren't perfect.

But some had to go without.

Not to mention other breakfast nightmares.

The morning commute starts poorly.

And the alternative was harrowing

But at least you din't make a wrong turn.

Or start your day with an appointment at the musical proctologist.

Sure, the software at work can be annoying.

But some people work for real a-holes.

And others have sadistic co-workers.

So be careful with whom you associate.

Because even those who say they want to help, can't always be trusted.

Especially if they insist on visiting you at home.

So be grateful you have the necessities of life.

And that you aren't living among anti-Semitic carnivores.

Take responsibility for your crappy day.

And learn to move on.


And the beat goes on.

Beware the Swiss

Don’t piss off the Swiss!

Last Olympics the Swiss hockey team didn't get a medal.  Although they were excellent skaters, they didn't fare well for the following reasons

1)    When the referee called icing, they thought he was talking about pastry

2)    They were penalized for attempting to build a large ice-capped barrier around their goal

3)    They spent far too much time in the “neutral” zone.

We think of Swiss and we see people in fairy tale clothing, blowing 12 foot horns in between bites of chocolate. 

 Amiable, comical, harmless people: hardly a people to fear. 

Those who have visited the Vatican (or those, like me, who've seen pictures of people visiting the Vatican and been spared the 18 hours in a tour bus next to retired couple from Toledo who ate something they shouldn't have) have seen the famous Swiss guards.  They look like they just came off the label on a bottle of scotch.  On the ferocity scale they appear to fall somewhere between Tony the Tiger and Winnie the Pooh.

And so they are – assuming Tony was a real Tiger and Pooh a real bear.

Those of us of German descent pretend to be tough.  We go around spitting threatening “ach” sounds at the end of our words and stare malignly at any collection of items or people not in a straight line.  We've been living next to the Swiss for centuries but you don’t see us ever bothering them.  Martin Luther was once impolite to Zwingli and the Reformation nearly met a tragic end right there.

In all the World War II movies, refugees are always escaping to Switzerland.  Do you think Clint Eastwood, Donald Southerland and Don Rickles were concerned that the Nazis would try to get their gold back?  Do you think Maria and all those sickeningly sweet children worried that Papa Von Trapp would be snatched back up and put on a U-boat?

Nah!

As they climbed the Alps and crossed the boarder they met one pudgy guy in leather shorts who greeted them.  “Welcome to Switzerland, have some chocolate, pet the Saint Bernard, bend over and moon Berlin.”

Rumor is the Heidi and her Grandfather alone, held off an entire SS company using nothing but a shepherd’s crook and hair ribbons.

  Once, the finish to a professional football playoff game was preempted to show a rerun of the movie “Heidi.”  If Roone Arlidge was scared of them, so am I.

It’s OK, you tell me.  The Swiss can be tough but we don’t have to worry about them.  Sure, every citizen over the age of three has an automatic weapon

 but the Swiss gather only short-range defensive ordinance.  They’re interested in stopping an enemy from climbing over the Alps.  After all, Hannibal surprised them with arrow-proof elephants and they want to make sure no one ever does that again!

Oh yeah, smart guy?  You’re so sure you won’t see the Swiss rolling across Europe, North America or even (for the hell of it) Australia, establishing marshal law, resetting clocks and disposing of inferior chocolate?

You’re forgetting one thing.  The most devastating tactical assault vehicle known to man.  The M-1 tank you ask?  The Bradley fighting vehicle?  No, I’m talking about the Pope-mobile.

Whenever you see the Pope traveling, he’s always safely ensconced in a Pope-mobile.  These vehicles are not built like some spit guard on a salad bar at your local Ponderosa; these babies are high tech!  You could launch a smart bomb, a nuke or even Oprah at one of these machines and you wouldn't even bother the man’s pointy hat.  All of this advanced armor is there just to protect an icon of peace?  C’mon, we know better.

Still, you argue (you just don’t give up do you?).  What do we have to fear from just one Pope-mobile?

You don’t see any crumbling “I break for baby ducks” stickers on the Pope’s bumper do you?  No!  The Pope has no interest in keeping a vehicle past its first oil change.  The man gets a new ride for every trip.  I bet he’s gone through hundreds, if not thousands of these suckers.

You never notice a Pope-mobile blowout at Billy-Bob-Joe-Ben McGinty’s Used Car Heaven?  I’ll tell you why.  The used papal assault vehicles are stored in a massive alpine bunker directly below a coo-coo clock manufacturing plant and several thousand of Donald Trump’s safety deposit boxes.

Do you want to wake up at five every morning to the sound of elongated brass performing cough drop jingles?  Are you willing to surrender the Swiss Miss cocoa company executives to a Geneva war-crimes tribunal?  Are you prepared to be conquered by an army that speaks five languages better than you speak English?

Write to our President.  Tell him to forget middle-east terrorism and stop Pope-mobile proliferation.  Only when every Pope-mobile is safely decaying in a New Jersey hazardous waste dump am I going to feel safe sleeping at night.

Then maybe we can do something about the Tony the Tiger and Winnie the Pooh threat.

Don't believe me?  Check this animated documentary from the mid 90s.  They're even more scary now.

Editor’s note:  The increasingly over-rated, Trouble in Taos will be free as an e-book on Amazon this weekend, Feb 7, 8, 2015.  “People seem to like it – can someone tell me why?” asks Headley Hauser, the author (and writer of this blog.)  No-one here at Go Figure Reads was able to answer his question.

Walter Bego

Groundhog Day

It's Groundhog Day!

Groundhog Day is a holiday that probably confuses readers outside North America, and delights very few outside rural Pennsylvania.

It's a celebration of hope that Winter will go away - even though it never does.

Well - it does go away, but not on February 3rd.  It leaves March 21rst - if we're lucky.

 In Canada - they just figure they're stuck till May.

But Groundhog day is a day of hope

And perhaps misplaced faith.  Some skip the hope and faith and try to spend the cold months inside.

Looking for new hobbies like knitting for friends

Rearranging furniture

Vocational training

And blaming others for that stir-crazy feeling

Out-door snow people tend to enjoy this time of year.

Unless they're in certain yards

Animals differ on the joys of the season

And even some humans find reasons to savor it.

But for me - well, there are reasons I prefer the south.

I can usually cope - barring unrelated disappointments

But generally, come each groundhog day, I get a little edgy if the prediction goes the wrong way.

This winter, try forcing your pets into hard labor.