Signs of the Times

Thought for the day:  Words are but the signs of ideas.  [Samuel Johnson]

This past weekend, Smarticus and I took advantage of the gorgeous weather by visiting Jones Bridge Park to enjoy a walk through the woods and beside the Chattahoochee River. Like a dimwit, I forgot my camera, but my brother took this picture at the park the last time he was there. Talk about a gnarly tree, right? And we had a...  narly time.

We didn't have the park to ourselves, but it wasn't too crowded, either. Unless you count the Canadian geese. Lots of them around. (Yes, before you ask, I DID ask to see their IDs, so I'm sure they were from Canada...) It was a hoot watching how some of the geese interacted.  It looked like one gal was giving her mate a serious chewing-out; he kept trying to power swim away from her, but she stayed right on his butt with her wings flapping, giving him what for. Loudly. You didn't have to understand the language to know he was in deep doodoo. There were two mallards in the mix, too, who tried to blend in. There was also a heron, who didn't try to blend it at all. He was more interested in staying close to one of the fly fishermen, who was standing in the (cold!) water in his waders, leisurely whipping his line back and forth. The heron was watching the guy's every move like a beagle watching someone eat a burger, so I think maybe he was hoping for some too-small-to-keep trout getting tossed his way. In spite of seeing more fishermen in the (cold!) water than usual, we didn't see anyone catch anything. No problem. They all seemed to be content with catching the experience and a few rays. (Sun, that is, no mantas around here.)

[morguefile image]

We crossed paths with one fella walking a pit bull. Smarticus said, "Pretty boy!" You know, just trying to be nice. We didn't like offer the powerful-looking dog a taste of our hands or anything.

The guy... not the dog... the guy snarled, "She's a GIRL!"

Smarticus apologized, but Mr. Surly didn't even crack a smile. After we walked a ways away, I told Smarticus in a breathy voice, "You shoulda told him, I was talking to YOU!"

Yeah, we crack ourselves up.

Something else we noticed at the park. There were signs warning people to pooper scoop after their dogs. There were also signs warning of the dangers of rapidly rising water when the dam did its thing,  signs saying no alcoholic beverages were allowed, and others showing where to place hot coals after BBQing. But we didn't see a single sign saying anything about no smoking, much to our surprise. Also, nothing about no nudity, or no fornication. Um, not that we were looking to do any of those things. I mean, it WAS a little chilly.

But here's the thing. There was a sign citing an ordinance against making annoying noises. Which, the sign assured us, would be enforced.

Huh? How exactly, does one define an annoying noise? Someone singing or whistling off-key? A barking dog? A toddler pitching a tantrum? Loud stomach rumblings? Persistent toots and brrrrps of flatulence? (Since the sign didn't say anything about a ban on offensive odors, I presume flatulence in the silent but deadly category would be okay.) What kind of noise do you think should be banned from a park?

****

Okay, how about some other signs we didn't see at the park, not that it would have mattered. Remember? This flake forgot her camera...

Gray hairs are signs of wisdom if you hold your tongue; speak and they are but hairs, as in the young. [Rabindranath Tagore]

(RATS! As if I'm ever gonna hold my tongue...)

I've done numerous posts in the past featuring some reeeeeeally funny signs. If you want to take a peek at some of them, just click on the funny signs tag in the sidebar.

In the meantime, how about some of these funnies:

• On a septic tank:   We're #1 in the #2 business.  
• Over a gynecologist's office:   Dr. Jones, at your cervix.     
• At a proctologist's door:   To expedite your visit, please back in.
• On a plumber's truck:   We repair what your husband fixed.
• On another plumber's truck:   Don't sleep with a drip. Call your plumber.
• On an electrician's truck:  Let us remove your shorts.
• On a dry cleaner's window:   Grime doesn't pay.
• On a maternity room door:   Push. Push. Push.
• On a taxidermist's window:  We know our stuff.    
• On a music shop window:   Gone Chopin. Be Bach in a minuet.
• Outside a muffler shop:   No appointment necessary. We hear you coming.
• In front of a funeral parlor:   Drive carefully. We'll wait.
• At a propane filling station:   Tank heaven for little grills.                                                                                                                                   

***************

So what's your sign? You know, the funniest sign you've ever seen? For me, the laundromat near our dormitory had a sign in its window, saying, Grime doesn't pay. And then, there's this one:

[seniorark]

(In case you can't make it out, the sign at the back of this pooper scooper truck says, YESTERDAY'S MEALS ON WHEELS.) Hey, I guess any job can have a funny side with the right outlook.

Have a super weekend, y'all. Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

I share the opinion of those of broader vision, who see in the signs of the time hope of humanity for peace.  [Frank B. Kellogg]

Oh yeah, a final reminder. Two signed copies of Hot Flashes and Cold Lemonade will be given away on February 2 through a Goodreads giveaway. Interested? Just click on that handy-dandy badge in the sidebar. (Sorry, only open to entrants from Canada, Great Britain and the U.S. this time around.)

Got time for a fun video? Remember this song by the Five Man Electrical Band? 

Boozing Boxers and Tooting Stars

Thought for the day:  There really is more than corn in Indiana. There's soybeans, too.

In case you didn't know it, Baltimore had the Colts FIRST. Baltimore had Johnny Unitas, Raymond Berry, Alan Ameche, Art Donovan, and a host of other amazing football players. The Baltimore Colts won the 1958 world championship in sudden death overtime, in what's been hailed as the best football game of all time. B'more had Colts bowling alleys, Johnny U's restaurant, and it was always fun to "Meetcha at Ameche's" restaurant for a cherry coke and the best burger in town. Baltimore loved the Colts. Until they left.

Now they belong to Indianapolis. Not that I'm bitter. After all, my husband and I left Baltimore, too. (But at least WE didn't sneak away in the middle of the night.)

Ahem.

Okay, in case you couldn't tell, we're looking at Indiana today.

What can I say? Ya gotta love a state that sports a smiley-faced water tower.






So, what can we say about Indiana? Like the other states in the corn belt, their idea of a traffic jam means ten cars waiting to pass a tractor, and these folks definitely know what's knee-high by the fourth of July. They say you can drive three hours in Indiana without seeing a change in the scenery, and every festival in the state is named after a fruit, grain, or vegetable. Also, bib overalls are considered appropriate attire for attending funerals. Most residents are proud to be called a Hoosier, although no one's sure how they got that name or what it means. The state has a lot of farmland, and most residents take their basketball seriously.

What else?

Most people are familiar with the Indianapolis Speedway. That's where the Indianapolis 500 race is  held every year. When the first race was held there on May 30, 1911, it was the first long-distance race in the country, the winner averaged 75 MPH, and he won a prize of $14,000. Now, qualifying speeds are more than 220 MPH, and the prize, more than $1.5 million.

There are a LOT of covered bridges in Indiana. In fact, Parke County, with thirty-two of them, is considered the Covered Bridge capital of the world.

The East Race Waterway, in South Bend, is the only man-made white-water raceway in North American.

Indianapolis boasts the largest, and according to Child magazine, the BEST children's museum in the world. Among other things, it includes a huge 5-level playground.

Here's another museum that sounds like a winner. Ruthmere Museum, housed in a Beaux Arts mansion, is a destination of choice for art lovers, history buffs, and antique enthusiasts. Sounds like my kinda place.

Would you believe there's a city in Indiana named Santa Claus? Didn't start out that way. Originally, it was called Santa Fe, but because another city in the state already had the same name, they had to change it in order to get a post office. So, in 1856, it became Santa Claus, and its post office now receives an average of 10,000 letters every Christmas. Santa Claus Museum, appropriately enough, is located at the intersection of Christmas Boulevard and Kris Kringle Place. 

Muncie's Ball State University was built mostly from funds contributed by the founder of the Ball Company, maker of glass canning jars. Ergo, the school's name.

If you're still smirking over the name of that school, you're gonna love the name of this town:

Yeah, it's an unusual name, all right, and I'm not sure of its origins, but the town does have a pretty nifty railroad museum.

Okay, time to move on now, and take a look at some of Indiana's laws.

• If any person receives money for a puppet show, wire dancing, or tumbling act, they will be fined three dollars under the Act to Prevent Certain Immoral Practices. (Immoral? Jeez, I dunno ... maybe somebody was dancing on that wire in the nude?)
• Anyone fourteen or older who profanely curses, damns, or swears by the name of God, Jesus Christ, or the Holy Ghost, shall be fined one to three dollars for each offense, with a maximum fine of ten dollars a day. (I wonder if frequent offenders pay their ten bucks in advance?)
• A three-dollar fine will be imposed on anyone playing cards in the state, under the Act for the Prevention of Gaming. (Cards? Oh no ,no, no. Oughta fine Monopoly players.)
• The value of pi is three. (Now, I don't care who you are ... that's FUNNY!)
• It's illegal for a man to be sexually aroused in public. (Salt peter in the public water fountains maybe?)
• No baths are permitted between October and March. (That oughta stink bomb arousals, too.)
• A man over the age of eighteen may be arrested for statutory rape if the under-seventeen passenger in his car isn't wearing socks and shoes. (Nothing at all funny about this one.)
• It's against the law to pass a horse on the street. (It's really hard to get the proper spiral and distance, anyway.) (Pssst, think football ...)
• It's illegal for a liquor store to sell soft drinks or milk.
• You can get out of paying a dependent's medical care by praying for him/her. (Finally, an insurance plan for the Masses.)
• It's illegal to back into a parking space.
• Smoking in the state legislature is banned ... except for when the legislature is in session.
• Pedestrians crossing the highway at night are prohibited from wearing tail lights. (How about headlights?)
• Spiteful gossip and talking behind another person's back is illegal.
• State government officials who engage in private duels can be dismissed from their posts. (One way or the other.)
• Mustaches are illegal if the bearer has a tendency to kiss other humans. (Okay for kissing other species, I suppose.)
• In Beech Grove, it's illegal to eat watermelon in the park.
• In Elkhart, it's against the law for barbers to threaten to cut off a child's ears. (I wonder how many kids that barber terrorized before this law was enacted?)
• In Gary, a person may not enter a movie house, theater, or ride a public streetcar within four hours of eating garlic. 
• In Indianapolis, it's against the law to ride horses more than 10 MPH.
• And it's only legal to throw a stone at a bird if it's done in self-defense. 
• And no one is allowed to collect rags on Sundays.
• In South Bend, it's illegal to make a monkey smoke a cigarette. (Give him a cigar.)
• And finally, in Warsaw, you can't throw an old computer across the street at your neighbor. (Better stick to the guy next door, I guess.)

Okay, here we go, the moment you've all been waiting for .. it's time for (ta-DA!)

The Weirdest News Stories of the Week

***  That pug looks a little glum, doesn't he? Maybe he has a tummy ache from his "heavy" diet. That's Harley, this year's Hambone Award winner, which goes to the pet whose owner filed the year's most unusual pet insurance claim. Sponsored by the Veterinary Insurance Company, the award was inspired a few years ago by a dog who ate an entire Thanksgiving ham. (burp) Harley's diet was a little out of the ordinary. He happened to eat ... and poop ... a hundred rocks. Past winners of this unwanted award include Ellie, a Labrador retriever who ate an entire beehive, bees and all, and Lulu, a bulldog who ate fifteen baby pacifiers, a bottle cap, and part of a basketball. (For Heaven's sake, buy those dogs some decent dog food!) I'm pleased to report, in spite of their strange gastronomical adventures, all of these critters are doing well.

***  Finally, an off-Broadway play for lovers of potty humor and the "pull my finger" crowd. Entitled The Fartiste, this play, based on fart artist (I kid you not!) Joseph Pujol, a 19th century Moulin Rouge tooting star, has blasted its way to some great reviews and thunderous applause. Pujol had the unusual ability to suck air in through his anus, and then blow it out again, which enabled him to use his posterior portal to tootle tunes on a trumpet, emulate the sounds of thunder and ripping fabric, and even to blow out the theater's gas jet lights. What can I say? From what I've read, this play doesn't stink. Neither does this song from the play, which you can hear in this video clip.

whew, feeling pretty ruff

*** If you're sick and tired of your favorite pooch drinking more than his fair share of your beer, here ya go: a brand new beer just for dogs. (So he can jolly well go out and buy his own, right?)  Bowser Beer, produced by family-owned business 3 Busy Dogs and available for purchase in most states, replaces the not-so-good-for-dogs hops with chicken or beef. The owners came up with the new brew idea after successfully marketing their doggie pretzels. Guess they figured the pooches might appreciate a cold brewski to wash down the pretzels, huh? And get this: you can even feature your dog's face on the labels, and create personalized brew names. (Like ...  Don't Give a Shitzu Beer?) So maybe you can special order a six-pack for your dog's next party, so he can impress all his friends.

*** Didja ever have a vehicle that prompted you to say, "This thing runs like crap?" Well, this bike runs ON crap. Japanese toilet manufacturer TOTO has produced a motorcycle that's fueled entirely by ...  poop. Or  to be more precise, human excrement-based biofuel. Called the Neo, this unusual three-wheeler, which boasts a toilet for a seat and large roll of toilet paper flapping in the wind from the rear, has already successfully completed an 870-mile tour of Japan. Not for sale, and not intended for mass production, the purpose of this bike is to promote brown  green renewable energy. Oh, and that toilet isn't operational, so no, you can't go while you're going ... Still, I think they ougtha call this bike the poopmobile.

Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.