Thursday, March 19, 2009

THE DARWIN AWARDS - 2009 EDITION

The 2009 Darwin Awards are finally out, the annual honour given to the persons who did the gene pool the biggest service by killing themselves in the most extraordinarily stupid way. Last year's winner was the fellow who was killed by a Coke machine which toppled over on top of him as he was attempting to tip a free soda out. This year's winner was a real "rocket scientist"! Read on...And remember that each and every one of these is a TRUE STORY.

And the nominees were:

Semi-finalist #1

A young Canadian man, searching for a way of getting drunk cheaply, because he had no money with which to buy alcohol, mixed gasoline with milk. Not surprisingly, this concoction made him ill, and he vomited into the fireplace in his house. This resulting explosion and fire burned his house down, killing both him and his sister.

Semi-finalist #2

Three Brazilian men were flying in a light aircraft at low altitude when another plane approached. It appears that they decided to moon the occupants of the other plane, but lost control of their own aircraft and crashed. They were all found dead in the wreckage with their pants around their ankles.

Semi-finalist #3

A 22-year-old Reston, VA , man was found dead after he tried to use octopus straps to bungee jump off a 70-foot rail road trestle. Fairfax County police said Eric Basia, a fast food worker, attached a bunch of these straps together, wrapped an end around one foot, anchored the other end to the trestle at Lake According Park, jumped and hit the pavement. Warren Carmichael, a police spokesman, said investigators think Basia was alone because his car was found nearby. 'The length of the cord that he had assembled was greater than the distance between the trestle and the ground,' Carmichael said. Police say the apparent cause of death was 'major trauma.' YA THINK!?

Semi-finalist #4

A man in Alabama died from rattlesnake bites. It seems that he and a friend were playing a game of catch, using the rattlesnake as a ball. The friend - no doubt a future Darwin Awards candidate - was hospitalized.

Semi-finalist #5

Employees in a medium-sized warehouse in west Texas noticed the smell of a gas leak. Sensibly, management evacuated the building & extinguished all potential sources of ignition; lights, power, etc. After the building had been evacuated, two technicians from the gas company were dispatched. Upon entering the building, they found they had difficulty navigating in the dark. To their frustration, none of the lights worked. Witnesses later described the sight of one of the technicians reaching into his pocket and retrieving an object that resembled cigarette lighter. Upon operation of the lighter-like object, the gas in the warehouse exploded, sending pieces of it up to three miles away. Nothing was found of the technicians, but the lighter was virtually untouched by the explosion. The technician suspected of causing the blast had never been thought of as ''bright'' by his peers.


Now, the winner of this year's Darwin Award

The Arizona Highway Patrol came upon a pile of smouldering metal embedded in the side of a cliff rising above the road at the apex of a curve. The wreckage resembled the site of an airplane crash, but it was a car. The type of car was unidentifiable at the scene. Police investigators finally pieced together the mystery. An amateur rocket scientist had somehow gotten hold of a JATO unit (Jet Assisted Take Off - a solid fuel rocket) that is used to give heavy military transport planes an extra 'push' for taking off from short airfields. He had driven his Chevy Impala out into the desert and found a long, straight stretch of road. He attached the JATO unit to the car, jumped in, got up some speed and fired off the JATO!

The facts as best as could be determined are that the operator of the 1967 Impala hit the JATO ignition at a distance of approximately 3 miles from the crash site. This was established by the scorched and melted asphalt at that location.

The JATO, if operating properly, would have reached maximum thrust within 5 seconds, causing the Chevy to reach speeds well in excess of 350 mph and continuing at full power for an additional 20 -25 seconds.

The driver(soon to be pilot) would have experienced G- forces usually reserved for dog fighting F-14 jocks under full afterburners. However, the automobile remained on the straight highway for about 2.5 miles (15-20 seconds) before the driver applied and completely melted the brakes, blowing the tires and leaving thick rubber marks on the road surface, then became airborne for an additional 1.4 miles and impacted the cliff face at a height of 125 feet, leaving a blackened crater 3 feet deep in the rock.

Most of the driver's remains were not recoverable. However, small fragments of bone, teeth and hair were extracted from the crater, and fingernail and bone shards were removed from a piece of debris believed to be a portion of the steering wheel.

Epilogue: It has been calculated that this moron attained a ground speed of approximately 420-mph, though much of his voyage was not actually on the ground.

Kate Puzey



It’s a surreal moment when the bottom scroll of the news channel becomes personal.

“Peace Corps Worker Found Dead in Africa”. I didn’t even stop to remember that Girl’s beloved English and French teacher, Virginia McAfee (I blogged about her here ) has a family member in the Peace Corps. In Africa. Who’s name is Kate.

Kate Puzey. Her name scrolls across the screen. And the news is suddenly personal.

I didn’t know Kate. Kate’s mother and “Miz Mac” are first cousins, but Virginia was more like an aunt to Kate. Yesterday, when Virginia and I had a chance to hug and exchange a few words, I learned about this incredible young lady and how she changed the world in her 24 years.

This link to the Alanta Journal Constitution article explains some of the story as does the more local Gainesville Times .

But not all. And I want to share what Virginia told me.

Kate joined the Peace Corp in 2007, after she graduated from William and Mary. She was coming home to Georgia in May.

Kate wanted to make the world a better place. She was very open, loving and compassionate. Good and kind. As beautiful in spirit as she was fair of face. She really did light up a room with her smile.

Kate was also feisty. Willing to fight for justice. And to fight for the underdog. She wasn’t afraid.

They have the man that murdered Kate in custody. He is the local, for want of a better word, "badass”. He took advantage of young girls. Now, I know I am American, and I don’t live in a small African village, and perceptions of what is “normal” or “right” or “correct” or “appropriate” differ around the world. But forcing a 14-year old girl to have sex against her will is wrong. I do not care what the native language is... it is still called “rape”.

Kate was horrified to learn that five of her 14-year old students were pregnant at the same time due to his man. That many other village girls had been hurt by him…were terrified of him.

Kate went to the authorities- I am unsure if it was government or employer- and the man was forced to leave the area. But he came back for his revenge.

In the Bible, John 15:13 says “Greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” I know this will be little comfort to her parents and brother right now, but maybe in time……..

If you believe in karma, as I do, then Kate has cleaned the slate. Heaven has the loveliest angel.

And as for the man who murdered,Kate----well…. As a Christian, I know that God has a whole lot more in His arsenal than we humans do in ours. As a Buddhist, I know that his suffering has only begun. He will receive justice.

The lives Kate touched will go on to touch other lives. The scholarship fund her family has begun will change still more lives. The positive change she made in the world will endure.

Our world is a better place because Catherine “Kate” Puzey lived with us for 24 years.

I would have loved to have known her.



Kate's blog and photos


The Kate Puzey Memorial Fund has been established “to help causes she believed in,” her father has said. Donations can be sent to: c/o Smith, Gambrell, and Russel, LLP, Suite 3100, 1230 Peachtree Street, NE, Atlanta, GA 30309-3592.

Monday, March 9, 2009

Spring Forward

Oh, I hate the first Monday after Daylight Savings Time starts...I'm all befuddled--it's dark again when I wake up. How I jump 12 time zones at one go and not have jet lag is beyond me..

It's been a busy week in Middle-Of-Nowhere...but nothing out of the ordinary. We have been spending lots of time with our foreign exchange student, Oskar, who heads back to Germany on Thursday. The kids have regional literary competition tomorrow, with Girl representing the school in Spelling, and Boy representing in Argumentative Essay and International Extemporaneous Speaking.

Grumpy Guy has been busy building me THIS--




A gorgeous pergola to train my wisteria up,...so it doesn't pull the old brick fence DOWN.


I am tickled pink...or should I say purple, as that is what I should have in a few weeks' time--masses of purple flowers.

Most of this weekend has been spent perusing my friend, the Captain's, new website. He used his Mac and iweb to update and polish his lifestory online...and it is brilliant. Anyone who is a fan of the SS Norway (formerly the SS France), Crystal Cruises, or just really cool photography should have a look. (Cllicking on either will take you there!!)


And don't forget about the forum, either!!

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Prairie Woman

It's been a slow news day around these parts for a couple of weeks. The tease of spring is at first in the air, only to whacked back down by a frost. Yes, it's almost to the point of having the heat on in the morning, and the air conditioning in the afternoon. A traditional Georgia climate.

This was typical of my Monday morning. Driving the kids to school (all explained later) we came upon this sight...



Confused?? Yes, it appears slightly unnerving, until you see a photo taken about a mile down the road...


Figured it out yet??
Yes, the semi is being towed.

Towing seemed to be a theme of Monday....because one hour later....


Yes, I am driving Grumpy Guy's truck, Babe. Yes, that is Grumpy Guy following behind me in Boy's truck. No, he is not driving too close...he's being TOWED. By a strap. By me. Prairie Woman.

Boy's truck just STOPPED on Sunday night at about 9:30pm about 10 miles from home. Just STOPPED. So GG went to fetch him and they towed the truck back to the house. Which is why I was driving the kids to school. Which is how I got to drive the makeshift tow truck pulling the Chevy. Which is why I can tell you about one of my nicknames...Prairie Woman.

Prairie Woman. Pronounced "Prayer-ee W'mn". The woman who can do all things. Fix all things. Who, if it's broken, asks herself "can I make it any worse than it already is?" and if the answer is "no" attempts it.

Grumpy Guy gave me this nickname wayyyy back in 1989. We lived in Leesburg, Virginia in a new development. Now, everyone knows that a new development has ABSOLUTELY no landscaping..and we lived in a former pasture, no less, so not even any TREES. So, I get this idea to build raised landscaping beds for the yard. Two, to be precise. One, 4' x 36' for roses, one 12'X16' for vegetables. Both a foot high, and made out of pressure-treated lumber, tied together with drilled rebar stakes. It was a beautiful design...a, excuse the expression-"goddammed-work-of-art", as we used to say in the theatre.

So I spec'd out the lumber required. Got my list of supplies ready.

It was some late-autumn 4-day long weekend. At the time, I was a vice-president for a small bank, and the bank officers took turns working in the lobby on Saturday mornings. Saturday, as was my luck- was my morning. But GG had all four days off. So, why not? He took off for Vermont to visit our friends who used to own the Salt Ash Inn .

4 days. With one little 4 hour jaunt into work for me. But nooooooooooooo--he takes off to Vermont...leaving me with a four-day-minus-4-hours weekend on my hands. (think I've forgotten it, or let HIM forget it since??????)

So--just to show HIM--I ordered the wood and supplies, had them delivered after he left on Thursday. And, damn- if I didn't build them MYSELF!!!


Yes, complete with renting an industrial-sized drill for the rebar, circular saw, sledgehammer and heavy-as-lead 4x4's 16feet in length. Even had the sand, topsoil, compost and peat delivered in bulk and toted that, mixed it up and dumped it in. Planted the roses as well.

I did not say a word.

He got back home late Monday night and didn't see the beds until Tuesday morning. After his bug-eyed look of incredulity, he just said "Wow...a prairie woman can build her own stuff when she puts her mind to it."

Ever since then, whenever I go to pick up a saw or hammer or screwdriver or drill, the comment is made "Watch Out, Prairie Woman is loose!!"

Prairie Woman can do anything...even tow cars. But just because she CAN, doesn't mean she WILL.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

How Can Someone Who Lives in Insane Luxury Be a Star in Today's World?

Brother Larry sent this to me...and it was moving and profound. It was actually written in 2003...but is timeless. Enjoy!

For many years Ben Stein has written a biweekly column called 'Monday Night At Morton's.' (Morton's is a famous chain of Steakhouses known to be frequented by movie stars and famous people from around the globe.) Now, Ben is terminating the column to move on to other things in his life. Reading his final column is worth a few minutes of your time.

Ben Stein's Last Column...
============================================
How Can Someone Who Lives in Insane Luxury Be a Star in Today's World?

As I begin to write this, I 'slug' it, as we writers say, which means I put a heading on top of the document to identify it. This heading is 'eonlineFINAL,' and it gives me a shiver to write it. I have been doing this column for so long that I cannot even recall when I started. I loved writing this column so much for so long I came to believe it would never end..

It worked well for a long time, but gradually, my changing as a person and the world's change have overtaken it. On a small scale, Morton's, while better than ever, no longer attracts as many stars as it used to. It still brings in the rich people in droves and definitely some stars. I saw Samuel L. Jackson there a few days ago, and we had a nice visit, and right before that, I saw and had a splendid talk with Warren Beatty in an elevator, in which we agreed that Splendor in the Grass was a super movie. But Morton's is not the star galaxy it once was, though it probably will be again.

Beyond that, a bigger change has happened. I no longer think Hollywood stars are terribly important. They are uniformly pleasant, friendly people, and they treat me better than I deserve to be treated. But a man or woman who makes a huge wage for memorizing lines and reciting them in front of a camera is no longer my idea of a shining star we should all look up to.

How can a man or woman who makes an eight-figure wage and lives in insane luxury really be a star in today's world, if by a 'star' we mean someone bright and powerful and attractive as a role model? Real stars are not riding around in the backs of limousines or in Porsches or getting trained in yoga or Pilates and eating only raw fruit while they have Vietnamese girls do their nails.

They can be interesting, nice people, but they are not heroes to me any longer. A real star is the soldier of the 4th Infantry Division who poked his head into a hole on a farm near Tikrit , Iraq . He could have been met by a bomb or a hail of AK-47 bullets. Instead, he faced an abject Saddam Hussein and the gratitude of all of the decent people of the world.

A real star is the U.S. soldier who was sent to disarm a bomb next to a road north of Baghdad . He approached it, and the bomb went off and killed him.

A real star, the kind who haunts my memory night and day, is the U.S. soldier in Baghdad who saw a little girl playing with a piece of unexploded ordinance on a street near where he was guarding a station. He pushed her aside and threw himself on it just as it exploded.. He left a family desolate in California and a little girl alive in Baghdad .

The stars who deserve media attention are not the ones who have lavish weddings on TV but the ones who patrol the streets of Mosul even after two of their buddies were murdered and their bodies battered and stripped for the sin of trying to protect Iraqis from terrorists.

We put couples with incomes of $100 million a year on the covers of our magazines. The noncoms and officers who barely scrape by on military pay but stand on guard in Afghanistan and Iraq and on ships and in submarines and near the Arctic Circle are anonymous as they live and die.


I am no longer comfortable being a part of the system that has such poor values, and I do not want to perpetuate those values by pretending that who is eating at Morton's is a big subject.

There are plenty of other stars in the American firmament...the policemen and women who go off on patrol in South Central and have no idea if they will return alive; the orderlies and paramedics who bring in people who have been in terrible accidents and prepare them for surgery; the teachers and nurses who throw their whole spirits into caring for autistic children; the kind men and women who work in hospices and in cancer wards.

Think of each and every fireman who was running up the stairs at the World Trade Center as the towers began to collapse. Now you have my idea of a real hero.

I came to realize that life lived to help others is the only one that matters. This is my highest and best use as a human. I can put it another way. Years ago, I realized I could never be as great an actor as Olivier or as good a comic as Steve Martin...or Martin Mull or Fred Willard--or as good an economist as Samuelson or Friedman or as good a writer as Fitzgerald. Or even remotely close to any of them.

But I could be a devoted father to my son, husband to my wife and, above all, a good son to the parents who had done so much for me. This came to be my main task in life. I did it moderately well with my son, pretty well with my wife and well indeed with my parents (with my sister's help). I cared for and paid attention to them in their declining years. I stayed with my father as he got sick, went into extremis and then into a coma and then entered immortality with my sister and me reading him the Psalms.

This was the only point at which my life touched the lives of the soldiers in Iraq or the firefighters in New York . I came to realize that life lived to help others is the only one that matters and that it is my duty, in return for the lavish life God has devolved upon me, to help others He has placed in my path. This is my highest and best use as a human.

Faith is not believing that God can. It is knowing that God will.
By Ben Stein