Sprout out loud!

My wife is always trying to grow bean sprouts. Now that does not seem like a very difficult task since all it really requires is some water soaked bean seeds, a paper towel on a dish, and a clear jar. You probably already guessed they need light to grow. But what you might not know is to grow best, sprouts want to spend about 6 times as much quality time in the DARK as they do in the light.

You see right off the bat we have a problem. Hey I read stuff and I hear things ok - doesn’t legend have it that only BAD things thrive in the dark? I personally don’t like criminals, nasty translucent cave-bugs, or despite Hollywood’s current obsession, ‘pasty- faced’ vampires with overflowing teen angst.

I really do not like organic stuff growing around my sink either. Isn’t that why they invented bleach, Soft Scrub and scouring pads? I resent those moist, green, cracked ovoid bean heads with those creepy, translucent ‘umbilicals’. I don’t like their name either. Who would name their cherished offspring “Mung”? Do I need remind you, that name rhymes with ‘dung’? That alone, is reason enough to shun the dumb sprouts. Because on principle alone, aside from this blog, I try to keep my distance from anything in close proximity to dung.

Honestly I do not know what the attraction is in putting this whispy green hair on sandwiches anyway? If people would just leave the poor seeds alone and give them some suntan time, they may grow up into wonderful proud green beans someday? Then I would love to spend some quality time with them. In fact as best friends, I’d be sure to pick them first to attend my hot tub party and introduce them to my other buddies -Bacon, Salt, and Onion. Mmmm - I love it when good friends get together.

'High Five' things I miss about the oil spill

Actually there is nothing I really miss about the oil spill down in the Gulf. But in the interest of making lemon flavored water out of Lemonhead candy – uh well you get the point … I did assemble a list of the 5 things I will miss most about this front page story.After all, even in blogging, “you should never let a serious crisis go to waste” right? Although, after a scary 4 months, this news is older and riper than Homo Erectus and his petrified black banana.

COUNT 'EM DOWN FOLKS ...

FIVE ) I do love those big hotel and rental car discounts at the Gulf beaches. There is nothing like a stroll along a vacant white sand beach, alone with your thoughts, red temporary fencing, and a big ol' bag full of tar balls.

FOUR ) Oh how I will miss the last month of the President’s frequent open collar walks along the Gulf coastline, reflecting the concern of every average Joe and Joetta. Yeah closing airports, airspace, all boat traffic, and delaying thousands of workers from trying to contain the mess again and again is a double-darn dandy idea!

THREE ) Sadly I have to admit that I will miss myself, my equally naïve friends, and family all sitting around playing our favorite second-guessing game called “Just plug that hole”. Hey I use a garden hose all the time – I’m sure that oily 'ZIT' is no different a mile below sea level with 7000 pounds of pressure behind it right?

TWO ) Won’t we all miss those shots of turtles and sea birds experiencing a luxury oil dip treatment at the Gulf's BP spa? You could just see how relaxed they were after they got their final scrub down, wash and wax. I never thought about it before but for animals do they get a pedicure or a ‘critter-cure’?

And the number ONE thing I will miss from the Gulf oil spill is …

I may be an immature and juvenile ‘Slumdog’, but I’ll never get enough of listening to America’s first Indian Governor, Bobby Jindhal speak with a decidedly Louisianian accent. I mean I still have trouble with the locals here on how I say 'Missouri' (or MizzouRAH), yet this guy is apparently fueled by Gulf shrimp-water in his veins.

So there you have it. Give yourself a 'High Five' if you suffered stalwartly without skipping straight to number One. Hopefully the spigot stays shut, and the Gulf oil spill, along with this post, will soon be just a distant memory. Let's hope so,'cause the truth is folks, if it happens again, as far as funny goes - I'm tapped out.

Dad’s had his ‘Phil’ of Mixed Drinks

When I was just a pup, I idolized my parents. They could do no wrong - after all they decided to keep me relatively flea-free, EVEN after the ‘Lemon law’ was enacted. I was born into a household of small-town traditional values like “Eat or be eaten”, “Do unto others”, and “It takes a village … idiot!” I was lucky though as compared to others in my family tree. Not only did I always have a roof over my head – but for the three of us, that REALLY was a fairly roomy Cadillac.

Fortunately for me however, the family shunned their heritage and I lived in Denver, Colorado during my entire early life. Yes we may have flew the coop like chickens but mostly it was because my father loved his drumsticks. You see my Dad was a professional drummer in a dance band and if you wanted to work without being on the road every day, you had to live where the eardrums were.

Now invariably as a jazz musician, to practice his craft, my father had to navigate daily, the difficult waters between family life and his job with the orchestra. His commute would have been so much easier if we had never lived on that stupid island. I think those were the early beginnings of my Father’s life-long drinking affliction and genuine love for mixed drinks. So many nightclubs, dance joints, and Mitzvahs held at BARS as well as fancy hotels. At some point no matter how strong, BOTH the deodorant, and a man’s resistance – will eventually wear thin.

Over the years the drinking has gotten worse and worse. Yes it may have started with a benign orange and cream soda mixture, but soon two flavored pops weren’t enough. Suddenly with ‘maybe a splash of root beer here’ or an ‘innocent spritz of cola there’, my father’s suicidal concoctions have taken on new dimensions of all their own. Now everything is stronger, bolder, more daring, with 4, 5, and even 6 soda flavor combinations. They freely fizz, sparkle, and shamelessly comingle their caramel colorings in my Dad’s overflowing, ‘senior –sized’ McDonald’s cup.

All those wasted years of perfectly good soda being mixed and defiled again and again, day in and day out. Clearly, no matter how hard my Mother and I try, nor how much love my Father has for us, our spirits are powerless and flat. Alone, we are no match to the siren’s song of the ‘multi-spigot soda dispensing beverage station'. It’s clear (and bubbly) a professional intervention is in order. That’s why we have engaged help from a hugely successful, television ‘Pop’ psychiatrist sensation from Texas – the famed Dr. Pepper.

‘Participation’ Trophies for Life

Kids (and Alter boys) today are exposed to a lot more opportunities for formalized sports programs and competition than when I was young. Oh sure I had the after school recreation room where caroms were king and I learned to play REAL ping pong better. But other than an occasional informal throw-down between friends, we didn’t have coaches or parents routinely guiding and judging our daily improvement in our activities, or in my case, a lack thereof.

These days it seems from the earliest ages, parents wrap their kids up in all kinds of pee wee leagues and formalized sports programs. I am not sure that all that early competition is designed more for the kids or actually their parents? All I know is that each year as my daughter grew and progressed through the various sports leagues, she seemed to get more trophies every year - whether her teams won or not?

Now I walk through thrift stores and there are literally racks and racks of these little ‘participant’ trophies for purchase. I know where these come from, because my daughter has a whole bookcase filled with them. The really funny thing for me is, these ‘golden oldies’ are like photos, in that even if you don’t like them they are still hard to throw away. You know logically, the kid is NEVER going to haul this hardware to her own place, but HEAVEN FORBID if you melted them down into a golden butter dishes with marble bases.

I have tried archery once; maybe I should buy myself a little participatory trophy, topped with with a proud Indian holding a bow? In fact I’ve done hundreds (ok … well maybe dozens) of things in my life but for some reason I never received all my awards? Do you think my parents have been holding out on me or maybe they’ve just lost my address? I always wondered why they have so many butter dishes?

You can imagine after all these years, I actually have mastered breathing pretty well now, so for that one I think I deserve a trophy AND a ribbon. As for eating, I’ve exceeded everyone’s expectations and have become a well-rounded pro in both butterhorns and buffets. Whew - finally something that I am so good at that I’m too big to overlook - I can’t wait to receive my ‘just desserts’!

The 'Skinny' on Energy Drink Boosters

It is hard to imagine that the world’s leaders are always talking about trying to dig up and invent new sources of energy. Haven’t these people been up the street to a 7-11 or to any store check-out lane on the planet? I mean you really have to be wearing ‘ultra-dark’ sunglasses, slapping ankles and small children with a white cane to miss the so called energy ‘booster’ drinks and shots displayed everywhere.

What happened; did somebody forget that soda, tea, and coffee already had the caffeine and diuretic department covered and locked up? Now it seems anyone with a cute diminutive bottle, flashy label, and some filtered water is getting in on the action. Yeah I could toss out any ol’ pale yellow secret ‘witches brew’, featuring liquid vitamins with caffeine, and fitness fiends would take to it like summer bugs to a porch light.

Now I know being naturally hyper-kinetic, I’m not the best authority to speak to this subject. Beyond that, I suck-in my fair share of diet soda and coffee every week, which keeps my hot-air mouth afloat and the bathroom porcelain well exercised. In general however, it is probably best, if truly health- conscious folks would try to avoid these stimulant boosters as a part of their ordinary routine and diet.

The fact is, most of us ALREADY get a fair dose of these mild stimulants during the course of a day without the need for excessive supplements. I have linked a caffeine database here so ordinary sane people can look up and compare favorite beverages against the myriad of energy potions available. If you are insane (like our world leaders), and refuse to listen or learn in the face of established fact and historical data, I am linking the most powerful caffeine ‘buzz’ per ounce known to mankind. Yep, just pop an ounce or so of this ‘super nova’ stimulant and you won’t sleep for a week. Of course if you do it often enough, the next ‘booster’ energy shot you’ll get is from your doctor. He'll 'FIXX' you right up with a pair of cold metal defibrillator paddles,and if you are good and wake up - he'll give you a pale yellow 'Lolly'!