• Write the opening sentence (25 words or fewer) to a story based on the photo prompt below.

    Prompt

     “I’m not kidding Bill; it felt like it was this big.” 11 words

     “Okay I give; now you can take that gun out of my ribs … er … that’s not a gun.” 20 words

     “My last boyfriend had shoulders this wide and a … ah … I probably shouldn’t be telling you this.” 19 words

     “The last time I used my hair spray instead of deodorant on my underarms I was only like this for an hour or so.” 24 words

     “Look, I can tune the radio with no hands.” 9 words

     “I’ll give you this long to get your hand out from under my dress.” 14 words

     “I ain’t ever had a shaving rash like this before.” 10 words

     “One more latch and you’ll have it ― I’ll never buy another bra like this again.” 16 words

  • I was a Marine. I am a Marine. The United States Marine Corps is a brotherhood that comes with lifetime membership. Once you go through their rigorous training and share their values, you’re in it for the long haul. You’ve all heard the expression: there are no ex-Marines ― only old Marines. Well, I are one. Somehow the pride, the discipline, the character, the camaraderie and the values that the Marines literally pounded into me last a lifetime. I am a Marine and will always be one.

    Marines take pride in having values that set them apart from all other services. Values like honor, courage and commitment. A high sense of honor guides all aspects of a Marine’s life but it’s their courage that sets Marines apart from all other warriors. They have the courage to be stronger than their fears and the commitment and the determination to serve our country and their Corps, without waver or without question.

    Senator Mike Mansfield (1903-2001) shows his bond to the Corps on his headstone. He didn’t want to boast about being America’s ambassador to Japan, a US Representative, a US Senator, our longest serving senate majority leader, or the recipient of our nation’s highest civilian honor, the Presidential Medal of Freedom. The senator wanted only to be remembered as a Marine. His headstone at Arlington National Cemetery reads:

    MICHAEL
    JOSEPH
    MANSFIELD
    PVT
    US MARINE CORPS

    The Marine Corps’ motto, Semper Fidelis (Always Faithful), distinguishes the Marine Corps’ lifetime bond from all others. A Marine goes through a transformation that cannot be undone, and Semper Fidelis is their permanent reminder of that. So when you hear some old guy greet another with Semper Fidelis, you’ll know that he’s restating his commitment to the ethics and values of the Corps to a brother Marine.

    Semper Fidelis.

  • I’m no political scientist, in fact I find politics so uninteresting that I place politicians on my list somewhere between used car salesmen and born-again evangelists. If I pay any attention to what’s going on in Washington I just get angry and who needs that. We used to be the greatest country on earth and now we’d be hard pressed to be in the top twenty or so. Why, because our politicians aren’t minding the store. Don’t get me started on what’s wrong with our country . . . but that’s a story for another day.

    Although I loathe politics I actually enjoy our national elections. Maybe it’s because I am, or is it was, a marketer and these so-called candidates have the ultimate marketing job ― selling their sorry selves to us, the public. Here’s an old marketing guy’s simple guide to winning elections. The successful candidate will score high in every category. Just ask Bob Dole.

    Eligibility
    This I do remember from school. Eligibility is having a flawless background, a wholesome lifestyle and often having gone through tedious preparation to become a candidate. You can’t have three marriages, numerous reports of infidelity, a really nasty divorce, and be estranged from your two biological children and ever expect to get nominated let alone elected. Just ask Rudy Giuliani. Now take Newt. He had eighty-four ethics charges filed against him during his term as Speaker of the House. All were eventually dropped except for one and the House officially reprimanded him following a vote of 395 in favor and 28 opposed. He was the first Speaker ever disciplined for an ethics violation and now he thinks we’ll forgive and forget.

    You can graduate 894th in a class of 899 like John McCain, or be a reformed drunk like George W. or you can be thought to be a functioning acholic like Ulysses, or be a known womanizer like Bill, or you can even protest a war in your military uniform like John Kery and still get on the ballot but you can’t be thought to be dishonest. You can now be divorced (Reagan) or a Catholic (Kennedy) or half black (Obama) but not a Jew (Lieberman) or a woman (Ferraro, Dole, Palin or Bachmann) and get elected. We’ll see if a Mormon (Romney) can win, but I wouldn’t bet on it. We’ll nominate and elect drunks, womanizers and policy protestors but not crooks, Jews or women.

    Charisma
    We usually think charisma means personal charm or magnetism. John Kennedy had it. Newt Gingrich doesn’t. Got it? Many will tell you that this is the most important criteria of a candidate. Just look at: Bill Clinton vs. Bob Dole, Jimmy Carter vs. Gerald Ford, and Barack Obama vs. John McCain. In every case we voted for the guy with charisma and not necessarily the best candidate or the candidate that reflected our own personal beliefs. We voted for the nicest guy, or the guy that came across as the nicest. Nice guys finish first in politics.

    Left – Center – Right
    Much is said about conservatives and liberals in our political system but to win an election today you have to be a moderate. You can even lean a little to the left like Obama or a little to the right like Reagan but we don’t elect radicals, no matter what they’re radical about. You could radically support apple pie, motherhood and the American flag and we won’t vote for you. And, what’s up with these third party candidates. As best I can tell they only take votes away from the candidate they’re most closely aligned. H. Ross Perot took enough of George Bush’s votes for Clinton to win and the Ralph Nader did the same thing to Al Gore. Why do you vote for these guys? You are not only wasting your vote, you are taking votes away from the candidate you should have voted for.

    Change
    Sometimes things are just so bad that we’ll vote for the candidate of the opposite party just because we’ve had it with the guys in power. We saw this when Jimmy Carter beat Gerald Ford. We were sick of Nixon, sick of Watergate and sick of all things republican. We wanted change; even it meant electing a Sunday school teacher. The same thing happened when Obama ran against McCain. We had so had it with Bush and Cheney, their failed economy and their winless wars, that we would’ve elected Angela Davis or Groucho Marx if they’d have run for the other party.

    So there you have it. We elect candidates that have charm, squeaky clean backgrounds and take the middle of the road on most things. That’s if we haven’t had it up to here with the party in power. If we have, we vote for the other guy, regardless.

    Psst – I’m batting 800. I voted for Goldwater rather than Johnson, Nixon over Humphrey, Nixon rather than McGovern, Ford rather than Carter, Reagan over the incumbent Carter, Reagan rather than Mondale, Bush over Dukakis, Clinton over the incumbent Bush, Clinton rather than Dole, neither George W. nor Gore, neither George W. nor Kerry and finally Obama rather than McCain. And by the looks of things I’ll be voting for him again.

  • Who invented this damn language of ours and why do we insist on speaking it, or in my case, try to write it? I know. I know it wasn’t invented, it just kind of evolved. Our funny language evolved from the West German that the invaders spoke when they kicked butt in Britain a long, long time ago. Did you ever wonder what we’d be speaking if the Germans had just stayed home and drank beer rather than raping and pillaging the Britons (there you go – what the hell is pillaging anyway – have you ever pillaged anything or, God forbid, been pillaged?). Okay, I just looked it up. pil•lage noun \`pi-lij\ : the act of looting and plundering especially in war or something taken in war. It comes to us from the Middle English word, pilage from way back in the 14th century. Now here’s my point. What else do we use from the 14th century? Nothing ― nothing but old words. And what’s more, words in the language of the pillagers, not the pillagees.

    While we’re at it, I want to rant about some other words I wouldn’t allow in my language, that’s if anyone would have asked me. I would never allow heteronyms for instance. You know what they are? Heteronyms (I know it’s hard to pronounce, but try \`he-tƏ-rƏ-,nim\, not much better, huh?) are words with identical (I mean identical like the same) spellings but have different meanings and different pronunciations. Words like lead and lead and tear and tear and bow and bow and bass and bass. We all know that one lead is a verb that means to guide and the other a noun that means leadership and finally it is a noun that means a soft, malleable metal of all things. These words are all spelled the same. Read ― His lead foot gave him the lead. How in the hell are we supposed to know how to pronounce this?

    And how about homophones? These pain-in-the-ass words all sound alike but mean different things and, you guessed it, they’re spelled differently. Words like right, write, Wright and rite. If I rite you a letter I wouldn’t be doing it write. This is dumb. I still get confused whether (or is it weather) to use boor, bore, boar or Boer in a sentence. Screw it, I’m going to pick one and stick with it.

    Lastly, I found a website (www.englishforums.com) that asks these thoughtful questions of our language:

    • How come there is no egg in eggplant or ham in hamburger or apple nor pine in pineapple?
    • Is cheese the plural of choose?
    • If teachers taught, why didn’t preachers praught?
    • If vegetarians eat vegetables, what do humanitarian eat?
    • How come we ship by truck, and send cargo by ship?
    • Why do we have noses that run and feet that smell?
    • How come we park on driveways and drive on parkways?
    • How come quicksand works slowly, boxing rings are square, and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.
    • And why is it that writers write, but fingers don’t fing, grocers don’t groce, and hammers don’t ham?
    • If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn’t the plural of booth beeth?
    • One goose, 2 geese. So, one moose, 2 meese?
    • How can the weather be hot as hell one day and cold as hell another?
    • You fill in a form by filling it out, and an alarm clock goes off by going on.
    • How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while wise man and a wise guy are opposites?
    • When the stars are out, they are visible, but when the lights are out, they are invisible.

    Does this stuff bother you too? What choices do we have? We could learn another language that has real rules and sticks by ‘em or we could invent our own language and do it right this time. We won’t have any silent letters in our new words for gnat, answer, solder, knee, yacht or psycho and we’ll spell pharmacy with an f and we’ll spell pneumonia the right way and we’ll . . .

  • I find the old and often charming words we use to describe undefined quantities of things interesting. And even more interesting that that word is often unique to that thing or class of things. When we use the word batch we immediately know that this is a quantity of baked goodies, cookies, brownies and such and not bread ― bread comes in loaves. I don’t know if other languages have this quaint tradition, but I sure hope so. Here are some of the words that tickle the few remaining cells in my tequila soaked brain.

    An army of ants
    A bar of soap
    A barrel of laughs
    A barrel of monkeys
    A batch of cookies
    A bed of roses
    A bed of clams
    A bevy of beauties
    A blade of grass
    A block of rooms
    A bouquet of flowers
    A brood of hens
    A bucket of bolts
    A bunch of grapes
    A can of worms
    A cast of characters
    A cloud of gnats
    A colony of penguins
    A covey of quail
    A cube of butter
    A culture of bacteria
    A cup of sugar
    A dab of butter
    A deck of cards
    A den of thieves
    A fleet of ships
    A flight of stairs
    A flock of sheep
    A gaggle of geese
    A grain of sand
    A head of lettuce
    A head of steam
    A hill of beans
    A host of men
    A kettle of fish
    A litter of pups
    A lump of coal
    A loaf of bread
    A margin of error
    A month of Sundays
    A mountain of debt
    A nest of robins
    An ounce of prevention
    A pack of dogs
    A pad of butter
    A pair of pants
    A piece of pie
    A pile of rock
    A pinch of salt
    A pod of whales
    A pound of flesh
    A rack of ribs
    A round of ammunition
    A round of drinks
    A school of fish
    A scoop of ice cream
    A set of sheets
    A sheet of paper
    A shot of whiskey
    A slab of bacon
    A slice of bread
    A sliver of hope
    A sprig of parsley
    A spot of tea
    A stack of pancakes
    A stalk of celery
    A stick of gum
    A string of pearls
    A swarm of bees
    A team of oxen
    A tray of ice cubes
    A tree of knowledge

    And then we have the quantity defined by the container in which we normally find the item like a can of soup or a cup of coffee. We would never say a bag of bread even though bread is normally sold in plastic or paper bags. Why is that?

    A bag of popcorn
    A bottle of wine
    A book of matches
    A bowl of soup
    A box of cigars
    A can of tuna
    A case of beer
    A cup of coffee
    A glass of water
    A jar of pickles
    A pack of cigarettes
    A quart of milk
    A sack of flour
    A tube of toothpaste

    There you have it and I never used any of those esoteric amounts like An Exaltation of Larks or possibly the worst ever, An Ostentation of Peacocks.

  • 320[1]

    Antoine Barada and My Search for the Truth

    “It was a spring day in Paris in 1780, and Michael Barada, was 20. As he sauntered along a fashionable street, very gay in the silk, ribbons and ruffles of a young French gallant of the court of Louis XVI . . .” So begins the charming story of Michael Barada and his chance meeting with the lovely Omaha maiden, Laughing Buffalo. This romantic fairytale was told to the US congress in 1934 in a bill granting my grandfather and other descendants of Laughing Buffalo membership in the Omaha tribe. The bill never passed but this unlikely fairytale became part of our history. Am I part Omaha? Is Laughing Buffalo my great grandmother? And if this story isn’t true what is her real story? Antoine’s Legacy is my search for the truth and my Omaha roots.

    Antoine’s Legacy

    now available

    in soft cover for $19.98 at Lulu.com

    as a Kindle eBook for $2.99 at Amazon.com

  • How are we going to deal with our ever rising national debt? What can we do to lower unemployment and get people back to work? What’s our plan to wrap up things and get out of Afghanistan? Is there a fix for our broken healthcare system? How will Greece fare when they go off the Euro and back on the drachma? Can we sustain Social Security over the long haul? And, what about global warming, for God’s sake? Are these some of the questions you’ve been pondering? Not me, I gave up worrying about the hard stuff a long time ago. Here are some of the pressing issues keeping me up at night:

    Where is O.J. now and has he confessed to killing Nicole and Ron yet? Do you think he brags about getting away with it to his cellmates?

    Who is Monica Lewinski blowing now and do you think he’s denying it like Bill did? I suppose that all depends on what the definition of is is. And Monica, did you ever take that blue dress in to the cleaners?

    Speaking of Bill, do ex-presidents rate interns? I don’t know, but Hillary is spending a lot of time in Pakistan.

    Have you ever wondered how the German drug company, Bayer, marketed heroin before the First World War? They owned the tradename heroin until they were forced to give it up in the Treaty of Versailles.

    How come we haven’t seen Donald Trump’s birth certificate yet? What do you think he’s hiding?

    Why did we name a dead-end a cul-de-sac when it means butt of bag in French?

    How do you think infidelity or his lack thereof has affected Tiger Woods’ golf game? With a personal net worth of $500 million and an annual salary of $85 million or so you’d think he could find another cocktail waitress or model to calm his nerves.

    Does Newt Gingrich really believe that we will elect him to anything, let alone the presidency? And, are he and those other clowns the best candidates we can come up with?

    Do you wonder if Arnold Schwarzenegger was bonking the maid while Maria was asleep in the other room?

    Do you ever wonder what kind of speech Barack would give without a teleprompter?

    I’ve been wondering, what ever happened to the American Idol winners Fantasia and Ruben Studdard.

    What was God thinking when he gave silverback gorillas, the largest of all the primates, a penis that averages a paltry 1 1/2 inches in length?

    Do your really think that Kim Kardashian and Kris Humphries will get back together? I’m not sure. Maybe he’s hung like a silverback?

    How come we spell bivouac that way and not bivwack?

    Don’t you hate to see another grand old American brand go down the drain? Eastman Kodak filed for Chapter 11 today. I don’t use any of their products anymore (maybe that’s the problem) but I’m sad to see ‘em go.

    I’ve been wondering what the function of our sinuses is other than to make us miserable when they become inflamed or infected. All science can tell us is that the function of the sinuses is not clear? Theories include humidification and warming of inspired air, lightening of the skull, improvement of vocal resonance, absorption of shock to the face or skull, and secretion of mucus to assist with air filtration. Come on now; is this the best we can come up with?

    How soon will Oprah reach 200 pounds now that she’s off the air? My money’s on August.

    How does that red-haired prick on CSI Miami stay on the air? I loathe him and I’ve never met anyone that likes him.

    Does anyone really care that Playboy gave Lindsay Lohan the Marilyn Monroe treatment in their recent pictorial spread. I saw ‘em both and I like the Marilyn shots (and her bazoomas) much better.

    And finally a question that I’ve been beating my brow over. How do mermaids have sex and which do they prefer, humans or large fish ― something like tuna or marlin? Or maybe a whale ― a blue whale has a penis up to 16 feet long and testicles that weigh around 25 pounds apiece.

    Help me answer these questions so I can finally get some sleep. Then on the other hand, have you ever wondered if there is a God? Why is the sky blue? Does Bill Cosby actually like jello? What is the meaning of . . .

  • The Winona We Never Knew

    I’ll bet you didn’t know that Winona Ryder was born Winona Horowitz and she was named after the town where she was born, Winona, Minnesota. And, that she grew up in a hippy commune in Northern California with no electricity. Her Godfather is Timothy Leary and her parents were close friends of the Beat poet, Allen Ginsberg. You can’t get any cooler than that, Allen Ginsberg for a buddy and Timothy Leary for a Godfather.

    I found it interesting that she was harassed her first week of junior high school when a group of bullies mistook her for an effeminate, scrawny boy. Did you know that she is blonde but when she made her first major film her hair was dyed black? She was told to keep it black and with the exception of Edward Scissorhands, it has stayed that color every since. I’ll bet you didn’t know that she dated Johnny Depp for many years. He even had a tattoo of WINONA FOREVER on his right bicep but after they broke up, he had it reduced to WINO FOREVER. She suffers from insomnia and she supposedly spends her nights on the phone with Al Pacino, who also suffers from insomnia.

    She also has a collection of vintage Hollywood costumes, including Russ Tamblyn’s jacket from West Side Story, Leslie Caron’s dress from An American in Paris, Claudette Colbert’s gown from It Happened One Night, Olivia de Havilland’s blouse from Gone with the Wind, and Sandra Dee’s bikini from the “Tammy movies”. Wow, what would you give to have Sandra Dee’s bikini?

    When asked, back in 1990, why she is always playing teenagers. She responded with: “Like, I’m nineteen. What am I supposed to do, play . . . a judge?”

    Virgin What?

    Scientists believe that the cultivation of olive trees began more than 7,000 years ago and that olives were first grown commercially in Crete as far back as 3,000 BC. Why was that you ask? Doesn’t the olive tree produce a fruit that is so naturally bitter that it is inedible by man or beast? Olives are so bitter that they must be subjected to fermentation or cured with lye or brine to make them eatable. I wonder what they did with these bitter things thousands of years ago. They must have learned how to extract the oil from this bitter fruit and what’s more they actually found uses for it. The ancient Greeks used to smear olive oil on their bodies and hair as a matter of grooming and good health. Olive oil was used to anoint kings and athletes in ancient Greece. It was burnt in the sacred lamps of temples as well as being the “eternal flame” of the original Olympic Games.

    I can buy that Classical Greece learned how to make olive oil but how in the hell did ancient man produce it? They would have to have known how to transform the olive fruit into an olive paste and then slowly churn the paste to allow the oil droplets to concentrate before putting it in a press and extracting the oil. Does this sound like a process prehistoric man could have mastered 7,000 years ago or even 5,000 years ago? Then why did they grow the trees?

    And another thing that I’m confused about is the various grades of olive oil. When I think of virgin I think of something totally different. Okay, for those of you as confused as me here’s a primer. But first we need to define a couple of terms. The grades of oil extracted from the olive fruit can be classified as: Virgin which means the oil was produced by the use of physical means with no chemical treatment. Refined means that the oil has been chemically treated to neutralize strong tastes and neutralize the acid content. Refined oil is commonly regarded as lower quality than virgin oil and oils with the retail labels extra-virgin olive oil and virgin olive oil cannot contain any refined oil. Got it?

    To further confuse things The International Olive Council, an organization based in Madrid, Spain, issued these definitions:

    Extra-virgin olive oil comes from virgin oil production only, contains no more than 0.8% acidity, and is judged to have a superior taste.

    Virgin olive oil comes from virgin oil production only, has an acidity of less than 2%, and is judged to have a good taste.

    Pure olive oil and Olive oil are usually blends of refined production oil and virgin oil with no more than 1.5% acidity. They generally lack the strong flavor of the virgin oils.

    Olive pomace oil is an oil extracted from the pomace using solvents, mostly hexane, and by heat.

    So there you have it. There will be a quiz on Thursday.

    How Was That Again, Mae?

    In Mae West’s third film, I’m No Angel, in 1933, a controversy arose resulting in the studios establishing the Motion Picture Production Code, which regulated what content could be shown or said in pictures. As a result of these codes, Mae began to double-talk so that a person could take a word or phrase any way they wished. This was so she could get her material past the censors, and it worked. Here are some better examples of her double-talk:

    It’s better to be looked over than overlooked.

    A hard man is good to find.

    When women go wrong, men go right after them!

    When caught between two evils I generally pick the one I’ve never tried before.

    When I’m good, I’m very good. But when I’m bad, I’m better.

    It’s not the man in your life that counts. It’s the life in your man.

    Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?

    I only like two kinds of men: domestic and foreign.

    Too much of a good thing is wonderful.

    It’s hard to be funny when you have to be clean.

    I wrote the story myself. It’s all about a girl who lost her reputation but never missed it.

    Good girls go to heaven. Bad girls go everywhere else.

    I used to be Snow White, but I drifted.

    Ten men waiting for me at the door? Send one of them home, I’m tired.

    I do all my writing in bed; everybody knows I do my best work there.

    To err is human, but it feels divine.

    I always save one boyfriend for a rainy day . . . and another in case it doesn’t rain.

    The man I don’t like doesn’t exist.

    I generally avoid temptation unless I can’t resist it.

    I’m not good and tired, just tired.

    She was also famous for her morning enemas, which she claimed made her skin like silk and left her “smelling sweet at both ends”. On the set of her last film Sextette in 1978, when she was a mere 85, co-star Tony Curtis claimed that she was given an enema after being made up, at approximately 11:00 in the morning, as the last step of her preparations before going on camera.

    Nine What?

    I went looking into the origins of the expressions: the whole nine yards, dressed to the nines, and on cloud nine. I wondered if the number nine is used to represent a quantity, a grade, or something else. You know what ― nobody knows. So we’ll just have to decide for ourselves.

    The answer I like best is that the whole nine yards and dressed to the nines refer to the bolts of cloth that tailors and dress makers used which contained nine yards of material. So when a woman came in and requested a fancy or elaborate dress the tailors would jest that she was using the whole nine yards. Now when she wore this gaudy dress she would be thought to be dressed to the nines.

    Another explanation is that in the 1800s the number nine was used indicate perfection, the highest standards so when you were dressed to the nines you were ideally dressed.

    You have to decide for yourself but I like the nine yards of cloth explanation better.

    We all know that Cloud Nine or on Cloud Nine refers to a state of elation or happiness, but why nine? A totally unsubstantiated explanation is that it denotes one of the classifications of clouds defined by the US Weather Bureau in the 1950s. Cloud Nine is the fluffy cumulonimbus type that is considered to be attractive.

    Another explanation is that the phrase is derived from Buddhism and that Cloud Nine is one of the stages in the progress to enlightenment of one destined to become a Buddha.

    There is no clue as to the origin of these nine phrases and one etymologist I sought out thinks that these nines phrases, don’t refer to anything specific ― they just mean a lot.

  • The English don’t eat English muffins, the Russians laugh at what we call Russian dressing and the French wouldn’t recognize a piece of French toast if you wrapped it in a crêpe and threw it at ‘em. Why is that? Because we just make this stuff up, that’s why.

    Nothing illustrates our pseudo-naming practice more vividly than the humble little French fried potato, or as we more commonly call ‘em, French fries. The rest of the English speaking world call them chips. Chips of what, they never say, but chips none the less. First off, French fries are not French at all; they were first prepared in Belgium back in the late 1600’s. Although the French enjoy these wonderful sources of sodium and fat they more correctly call them pommes frites which literally translates to fried apples. Fried Apples, you yell. Yep, the French have a charming name for a potato. They call potatoes, pomme de terres which translates to apples of the earth. Isn’t that cute? Shouldn’t they then more correctly call their French fries pommes de terre frites? But who am I to tell the French anything.

    Then there is the class of food products that remind us of some foreign culture so we just name our stuff after them whether they like it or not. Like French bread, Swiss cheese, Dutch chocolate and Italian sausage. To be properly named after these countries this stuff would have to had come from that country, like Canadian whiskey or English tea. No we attach other people’s names to our products without regard to what that nation thinks or without their approval. Take the Swiss, they don’t have a national or “Swiss cheese,” they have a number of wonderful cheeses including an Emmentaler which has those funny little holes in it. I know, let’s call all white cheeses with holes, Swiss cheese. And while we’re at it, I’ve eaten all over Switzerland and I know a bunch of Swiss people and never once have I ever had a Swiss steak in Switzerland. Why we have the nerve to call cubed steaks cooked with onions in a tomato sauce Swiss steak is beyond me and the seven million people of Switzerland.

    How about the balls of 3M? Way back before political correctness they named their new cellophane tape, Scotch Tape. Did they seek the approval of the United Kingdom or did they care what the Scottish people thought? No, the story goes that a customer complained that 3M was manufacturing its new cellophane tape too cheaply, and told a 3M engineer to, “take this tape back to your stingy Scotch bosses and tell them to put more adhesive on it.” Take that Scotland, we named a cheap and stingy product after you. So there.

    This naming habit must have come to us from England. I think they used to sit on their stuffy little island looking across the channel to see how much fun the natives were having on the continent. Everything they saw that was a little different from their stodgy ways or seemed the least bit naughty they called French. Who else would have named all of these things after the French: to French-fry, a French cuff, a French curl, a French kiss, French doors, French vanilla, French chalk, French Dressing, a French curve, a French horn, French onion soup, the French Quarter, French lingerie, a naughty French postcard and God forbid a French tickler.

    Oh and while we’re talking about the frogs, that small town that Larry Bird hales from, French Lick, Indiana, is not named after what you might think. It was originally a French trading post built near a spring and salt lick. Got it . . . a salt lick.

    We’ve named some unusual things Dutch that don’t seem to have anything to do with tulips, wooden shoes or windmills. How about: Dutch treat, Dutch doors, Dutch Elm Disease, Dutch ovens, Dutch kettles, and a Dutch uncle. Having an elm disease named after them, like they invented it, is a low blow. Is this any way to treat our friends?

    And every once in a while we do something great and give the credit to someone else. Did you know that hard taco, with its crisply fried corn tortilla shell, was invented in the US. Yep, we did it, and we also invented sukiyaki, albeit they were Japanese-Americans that did it, and we introduced sukiyaki back to Japan where it’s now a popular native dish. We didn’t name these inventions Gringo Tacos or Nisei Sukiyaki did we? No, we let those folks take credit for our creativity and originality. Aren’t we great?

    And who can not take pride in what we’ve done with the simple pizza pie. Did you know that the Ancient Greeks covered their bread with oils, herbs and cheese and they called this πίτα or pita, meaning pie. The Neapolitans invented the modern version of the pizza pie and they finally got around to adding cheese in about 1889, but that was the extent of their imagination. It wasn’t until our own Italian-Americans went to work on pizza that it became the world’s favorite junk food. The old Greeks would roll over in the crypts, as would the modern-day Neapolitans, if they ever bit into a Domino’s Honolulu Hawaiian Pizza with its sliced ham, smoked bacon, juicy pineapple, roasted red peppers and two kinds of cheese. Now that’s progress.

    There you have it, we should take pride that the rest of the world hasn’t named a bunch of undesirable or disgusting things — American whatevers. They seem satisfied with just referring to us ugly Americans. Maybe, just maybe, we’re too ugly to name things after or they may have secret names that they won’t tell us. But maybe it’s better to be forgotten or overlooked than be remembered as others have been for their not-so-nice contributions like: the German Measles, a Mexican Stand-off, an Irish Car Bomb, or my favorite, Chinese Water Torture.

  • Haiku is an important form of traditional Japanese poetry. Modern day haiku is a 17-syllable verse form consisting of three lines of 5, 7, and 5 syllables. I’m no poet, haiku or otherwise, as you’ll soon see.

    Life without good wine

    a novel without a plot

    so hard to endure

    When I drink too much

    my life runs at a slow pace

    but I miss so much

    Beer in the morning

    white wine with my early lunch

    a cocktail at dusk

    A tribute to wine

    God’s wonderful gift to us

    makes life far sweeter

    God gave us wine to sip

    to make our lives brighter

    and to fuel our souls

    We drink lots of wine

    saving wonderful champagne

    for our special days

    Beer, our liquid bread

    is food for our troubled souls

    and life’s great reward

    White wine with chicken

    red wine goes best with beef

    champagne with dessert

    The Scots make Scotch

    the Irish make whiskey too

    but bourbon is ours

    Drink and be merry

    tomorrow will be here soon

    and our lives soon end

    How much wine is there

    in a barrel and a half

    who gives a damn, drink

    When I drink too much

    the world seems a lot better

    but I’m soon asleep

    Hangovers are tough

    headaches and a cotton mouth

    what a price to pay

    Bordeaux in crystal

    cheap wine in a Mason jar

    I enjoy ‘em both

    What will you request

    on the last night of your life

    I’ll have a scotch neat

    Beer isn’t always

    the amber color of wheat

    it can be coal black

    Cheers, santé, prost and salute

    toasts heard around the planet

    is everyone drunk

    A scotch and water

    may be the best drink of all

    or a gin and tonic

    They say martinis

    should be shaken not stirred

    I like ‘em both ways

    A brandy at night

    is one of God’s gifts to us

    so drink and enjoy