Picky, Picky, Picky

17th century Metaphysical Poet John Donne penned the words,  "Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind."

[He might be more popularly quoted today had he slipped something in there about woman kind.]

I do agree with John Donne. The death of Anna Nicole Smith diminishes me. But I'm sorry Fox TV, and whoever else used this phrasing early on.  The death of Anna Nicole Smith is NOT a TRAGEDY.

As you may know I've just recently given my stamp of approval (who cares Paul) to tinker with the language.  But with the common every day use of TRAGEDY? We've just mangled the term from benign neglect.

Some of my friends in the media have suffered through my arrogant ranting on this issue.  Please bear with me one more time.

You know I think arrogance is the result of someone knowing something, thinking they know something, or just having their button pushed on some issue that really doesn't matter very much?

Well, I think the justification can be found to put this rant in any one of those slots.  But at least in this case I have Aristotle and Bill Shakespeare on my side.

Don't ask me why, but the word tragedy is derived from the Greek word 'tragos,' or goat.  I know the misuse of the word certainly gets my GOAT.

Back to Aristotle and Bill. I'm just going to toss out some criteria used by those guys before they employed use of the word Tragedy.

"An event resulting in great loss and misfortune."  "The main character, protagonist, must be of noble stature." " The death of the protagonist results in a universal sense of loss and misfortune." "The death excites universal terror or pity." "There is universal mourning resulting in universal catharsis."

In one of the daily newspapers here in town today I read of the "tragic" loss of cattle out on the prairie. I can't tell you how many times I've watched the "tragic" burning down of a house (any house). Was it a "tragedy" when someone stole one hundred boxes of cookies from the Girl Scouts?  Was it "tragic" when a pet cat slid off the ice into the lake?  Stop me!

In her defense Anna Nicole Smith fits neatly into one TRAGIC lab test. The main character's downfall (death) is the result of a "tragic flaw, moral weakness, an inability to cope."

But there are so many other words that can easily describe Anna Nicole's passing. That way we wouldn't  have to categorize her with a group that might include Gandhi or Mother Teresa or Oedipus or Hamlet.

It really is sad, unfortunate, premature, ironic, untimely, pitiful and mournful that Anna Nicole Smith dies. And you know what? I haven't even opened the thesaurus yet.

Okay, I'm done.  With this tragic warning.  When I die? And you are still on the planet behind me? DO NOT, I say, DO NOT refer to my death as tragic. If you do? I will haunt you as the ghost of  Banquo for the rest your life.

'OUT, OUT DAMNED SPOT!"

Have you bird brains up there found an appropriate adjective yet?

Random Rhinostifications

 

Rhinostifications! Hmmm?

Peggy hates it when I tinker with the English language.  But I think all languages get boring if you don't tinker with them. And I guess that's my chance to make myself the butt of an Embarrassing observation.

For my Broadcast Journalism Television class?  I carefully craft some stories that illustrate most of the accepted story forms in TV news. At least in my mind? They are finely tuned examples of how TV news is, and should be presented. So then? 

Well I e-mail the whole class, and  I ATTACH these illustrations so they can tote them around as references for their entire careers?  Simple enough, except.......

In the e-mail, explaining the attachment?  I write, " we'll be using these examples as models as you RIGHT your own stories.

"Oh, Paul, SPELL CHECK!"

I notice it at the same time I am pushing the SEND key. Yikes! Now my biggest fear is no one in the class WILL notice. PLEASE NOTICE!

Because of all this snow, and no grass? These are the most anemic geese I've ever seen. When they molt, I think in just about a month from now, they are going to be anorexic.  They can't fly when they molt anyway.  But I'm thinking they aren't going to able to waddle either. Might make it easier to catch one and toss it in the oven.  But why? They're all skin and bone.

I wonder, when we have another bout of snow like this?  I wonder if we'll remember that snow plows are not designed to break up mounds of ice? 

And I wonder if we'll remember that road graders and bullydozers are capable of breaking and moving just about anything?

So here we have public employees and their emasculated equipment fruitlessly driving up and down city streets? 

While the road graders and bully dozers are sitting around buried under some of those mounds of ice. Sitting there whilst their operators are standing in line at the bank trying to get loans to hold them over. Hold them over until they can get back to work when the ice melts. Something is wrong with this picture.

I think I've shared the thrill you get at myage when you get CARDED by the waitress when you ask for the senior meal?

Well I find a new thrill, and sorry Fats Domino, (is that spelled 'oe? Is it Dan Quayle?) it isn't on Blueberry Hill. I've pranced around here once in a while bragging about my weight loss?

One of the highlights for some, not me, when shedding poundage?  Shopping for new clothes.  I dislike that necessity immensely.  

(Spell Check says poundage isn't a word. It is NOW Spell Check! Tinker, Tinker!) 

But, here is the deal.  I'm thinking about adding swimming to my ongoing fat reduction plan? But, I'm totally confident I don't have anything in the house that even resembles a wearable swim suit.

So I notice in a newspaper ad that Kohl's Department store is having an 80 percent off sale.  ( I know! 80 percent off what? But it still seems to potentially be a good deal.)

So I'm there, and Gee Whiz have styles changed since I regularly wore a swim suit.  Anyhow, I'm pouring over the racks and see something I like.  As I draw nigh I'm not totally enamored with it because it is made by NIKE. I'm not anti-NIKE, but I am anti-any brand that makes you a walking billboard.  Oh, well.  I thumb through the offerings feeling proud I can just push those XX Larges out of my way. 

I pull out a simple LARGE and head to the check stand.  (Not only is it 80 percent off?  I get another 10 percent off for being a senior. Only negative there is I don't get carded.)

So I get home, strip naked, excited about slipping into my first large in about 15 years.  I'm a little ill at ease 'cause what if it don't fit?  Well, lo and behold!  It don't fit!

But guess what?  That's the good news. One of you could have gotten into that suit with me. It was TOO BIG!

I detest clothes shopping so much I'd rather sit at home with a closet full of misfits than TAKE SOMETHING BACK. But oddly?  Not this time. Folks I go BACK to the store FOR A MEDIUM. I've not worn a MEDIUM ANYTHING since I was fourteen (14). WOW! YEE HAW! ZOWIE! COOL! RAD! ETAL!

I'm starting to feel like those geese.  I hope I can fly in the Spring. Maybe NIKE does something weird with sizing?  If so, I don't want to know about it.  [AND I'M PROUD TO WEAR YOUR LABEL NIKE]

Excuse me just a second.  I need to run spell check again.

I'm back. In addition to the 'poundage' issue? Spell Check also doesn't believe you can pluralize Large, doesn't accept the exclamations YIKES, ZOWIE, RAD or GET THIS, ETAL.

Oh, and Kohls and NIKE? Spell Check says you don't exist.

You know? Maybe it's all WRITE to RIGHT this way. Whadda yuh think? Tinker, Tinker.

Oh yeah, the SuperBowl

"Say Paul, who do you like in the SuperBowl?"

I like to think of myself as a "HALF FULL" guy.  But in this case I'd rather focus on who I don't like.

I don't like Billy Joel's rendition of the nation's Anthem. And he looks like he is really ticked off he has to do it.

I don't mind Prince in Drag. That's his thing.  But Prince in Drag imitating Tina Turner? That's sacrilege!

I don't like Tuba Players in general.  Don't ask me why. I just don't!

The commercials? Eh! I think the crabs got my attention the most and you know why?  They weren't mean or violent.

Oh, the game. 

I don't like the guys who designed either team's uniforms.

I don't like the guys who invented playing surfaces that take away mud. If you've not been there, you can't imagine the thrill of banging into each other without resistence. There is just that wonderful slide of five or ten yards with uninterupted enertia.

Yeah, I know who won. I enjoyed it. It was a pretty good game. I love the Celebrity Cipher I did this morning.  It's a quote from former running back Duane Thomas.

"If this is the ultimate game? How come they're gonna play it again next year."

By the way I LOVED the ritual BEER AND BRAT I enjoyed sitting on my couch safe from rain and snow.

Oh, I thought the teases for the cheap viewer produced commercial were a little better than the actual thing.

I gotta run.

Ta Ta

The sun comes out, 6 inches of snow melts, the moon shines, and the Aliens (as you can see) take their blood and brain samples and split. Do you think they are just getting tired of watching us yell and fire sling shots at each other?

My expectations are that stuff is going to kinda get normal for a while? I say kinda normal 'cause we still got a President who can't say NUCLEAR.

Oh, wait! There's the Rabbit and the Mallard. You know they always leave someone behind to spy on us.

Did you know ( learned this at the zoo) the Male Mallard is a cad. Apparently this colorful duck has no sense of modern mores. I'm told a Male Mallard has been known to know (in the biblical sense) up to 100 Girl Mallards in a day. Shame!

And so.....eat your heart out Wilt Chamberlain.

I'm going to quit while I'm behind.

"OKLEY DOKLEY"

 

High Hopes!

Every night for the past two months these STRANGE lights appear in the snowbanks in our backyard.  Aliens again, along with the rabbits and the mallard?  Nay, they are just signs (neon- like) of the time.

I plan on doing this story later on? But two realities are forcing me to alter my agenda. You see, first of all, the SNOW MEN, aka weather persons, are now predicting a fairly dramatic warm up. With a couple inches of melt you'll know the source of the lights anyway.

The other reality is the Rocky Mountain News (I refuse to accept the possibility they do this 'cause I carped about their type size) do a front page tease of the very story I've been working on for you.  So there will be no more mystery, no teases, no more secrets.

See, most of these BIG piles of snow FALL around the HOLIDAYS? And during the holidays many of us put up outdoor light displays?  Typically, mostly the result of neighbor or HOA committees, these displays will have been boxed up and stowed in the basement by now.

Well, problem is, we can't get to them.  They are in many cases, like this one, encased in three foot high blocks of ice. We can't pull the wiring in until it melts. So the lights are there? Why not plug them in? And pretend for a while they're aliens.

In truth we're ready to put them away.

A quote from one of Peggy's tennis pals: "I'm done with snow! I've lived here all my life, and I'm DONE with snow."   With the threat of melting looming, I call that one heck of a POWER WISH!.

Before It melts? Hey, Hollywood! If anybody is thinking about doing a remake of Dr. Zhivago?  Get here quick. You won't need to build sets, and you won't need to fly to St. Petersburg. And yeah, you can get vodka here.

With this melt threat pending, Peggy and I run around taking some pictures to secure a lasting impression? There are some really cool ground blizzards taking place today.  I've added some pics for your amusement.

This melt is coming just in time for the TV stations.  The February sweeps (ratings period) is underway. With continuing breaking snow news stories? They'd have to give up the sensational pieces they've been putting together to secure your loyalty. I'm not a big fan of the HYPE that goes along with it. I call it the "Chicken Little" season.  It sure is fun sitting back watching the competition from my couch. It is not always fun to be a part of it.

As the snow leaves? Do expect to hear about and see some stories on HUGE "pothole-turned-sinkhole" stories coming up.  They're inevitable. When it happens I'll make every effort to share.

Go Bears....Go Colts. Growing up in LA there were so many teams around you could do that and not get beat up.  I just hope its a good game. And sorry. Come Monday? Don't come to me for sympathy or celebration. What ever happened to "Big Daddy" Lipscomb anyway?

Whoops!

If I'd had myYonkers friend around all my life I KNOW I'd be a lot better off. What kind of nitwit gets on line and barks at a newspaper for having its type too small? What kind of a jerk does that in teeney weeney print? Ahemmmmm! I resemble that remark, thank you.

I won't say forgive me. Rather just accept me as a dottering old BLOGster who once in a while (Peggy would say often) can't see the trees for the forest.

Anyhoo to do pennance I'm up at 3:30 in the morning chatting at you in size 24 on the AOL big type scale. Let me know if it's not enough.

Oh, and before you put your magnifying glasses back in the drawer?  I've tried but have been unable to expand the type in the title line and picture captions.

You know, I've been noticing my handwriting getting teenier and weenier as well. I vow to work on it. I recently mentioned, for what reason I can't remember, Shakespeare's Advice to the Players. It applies here 'cause as he is brow beating this band of semi-pro actors he tosses in the phrase, "REFORM IT ALTOGETHER."

I'll do my best YONKERS!

Can I please go back to bed now?

I feel so CHASTE right now.

NITE!

Hey, Look Me Over!

I think the aliens have gotten into my computer.  They wouldn't let me save for almost a half hour. This better not be identity theft. Believe me, if you're the bandit, I'll hunt you down and perform a lobotomy on you, so you won't even care if you ever do this again.

Okay, let's get back on message. HOW MANY WAYS CAN YOU SAY SNOW?

Yeah, we got it again last night, more coming tonight, temperature going below ZERO F tommorrow night.  And yet I've found another silver lining. You may not concur, but I love the fashion statements that come out in this weather.  The only real fashion issue is staying warm.

And that opens the door to choices all over the style spectrum.  I sometimes think its the only time we really become ourselves. I owe my attitude to my late father.  Sometimes you hear the exaggeration "I only wear my suit to weddings and funerals?"  My dad lived that adage with the possibility of a few exceptions. Those exceptions would be the times he DIDN'T wear a suit to a wedding or funeral.

When I first quit teaching in the 60's I beat the students out the door at the final bell, got to my car, RIPPED off my tie, and then ran over it three times. In honor of dad of course.  That's just so you know where I'm coming from here.

I once did a weather story along the outdoor mall here in town when the mercury couldn't make up its mind.

"Let us see. Should I be cold, or should I warm up?"

It was a total delight for me to discover that we couldn't make up our minds either. Coats were half on, half off, wrapped around the waist, slung over the shoulder, buttoned, unbuttoned, tossed on the table. left in the car.  It was, IN MY MIND, an incredible display of individuality.

And when and where did we acquire these fashionable rags? WOW!

Well that's all I think I will or should say on this subject. I've got one more issue.  This is directed at the Rocky Mountain News, one of two local urbane daily purveyors of journalistic domination.

Listen you guys, I'm pretty sure ( aging male, dwindling vision issues) I represent a huge portion of your demographic. Ergo I think you guys ought listen and listen good! QUIT MOVING THE PUZZLES AROUND AND MAKING THE TYPE smaller. Don't force me to go to the internet to get my Celebrity Cipher, or even worse? I just might switch to your evil twin (The Denver Post) and do the Crypto Quip instead.  Think about it.  It's your choice. I think I'm speaking for a whole generation here.

If you're getting married, can I come in just a sport coat? I think I've got one somewhere in basement.

 

BRRRRR!