The Manipulation of the Sexes...

I was at the mall on Saturday with my family, and while waiting in line for a smoothie at the food court, I listened to the conversation two 30-something women were having - shopping bags in tow.

Their uninteresting chatter suddenly compelled me, when the pretty one called her husband on her cell phone. Her voice was very warm and soothing- excited even- at the opportunity to talk to her betrothed. I thought it peculiar that after the inital pleasantries were over, she asked her husband to go ahead and buy the headphones he had been eyeing. It was clear that the husband's lust for a particular set of - no doubt - expensive headphones was part of an earlier conversation. But now, this young woman called, and implored her husband from the goodness of her heart - to treat himself, and get the headphones. It sounded fishy to me, until I saw her shopping bags - emblazoned with monikers from all the finest retail stores in our humble little suburban mall.

Once "Trixie" had convinced her husband of the merits of the headphones, I heard her gasp, throw in a few "Really?"s and tsk-tsk her way through the remainder of their brief phone call. It ended with with this woman sharing the most wonderfully appreciative "goodbye" and "I love you"- both smothered with a flavor of conspiratorial unity.

When this act was over, she clapped her cell phone shut, and turning to her friend, declared: "Don't you even feel guilty for what you bought!" Her friend's eyes looked up meekly to protest, her heart obviously heavy with grief - but the first woman only stood firm: "Don't feel guilty. You should hear what Chris bought. Aaron said he is going CRAZY!"

Softly, unsure, the second woman responded, "Are you sure?" "Yes, don't you even feel bad. You have every right to get a few things. Chris is going nuts..."

And on the conversation went- but my mind had drifted away, reflecting on the way we husbands manipulate our wives - and you wives manipulate your husbands...

I didn't realize just how far off my radar screen the Atlanta Falcons were until tonight...

I often play mind puzzles while I'm driving, showering, or trying to fall asleep... I might go through the alphabet, and try to name actors whose names start with A, B, C, etc... or, I might list as many Mel Gibson movies as I can recall, and then see if I can top the number with another actor's films... or, I might try to name the roster of the last World Series champ... whatever, these are just little mind exercises to keep myself entertained.

Tonight, while I was washing up after an afternoon of yard work, I went through the NFL - naming first, every team, and then every head coach. I went through 31 teams, and was strugging to remember the 32nd team... Finally, I had it: The Atlanta Falcons! Funny, how they're in my own backyard, and I couldn't remember them.

This may seem odd to you, not just because of my proximity to them and the number of people I know who are Falcon fans, but also because Mike Vick is propped up as the biggest star in the game today (which I believe, he is not). But it's more easily explained when you realize how utterly insignificant this franchise has been for most of its history. Rarely in the playoffs, and never having successfully posted two straight winning years. I also hold a grudge against them which I am only now beginning to forget: They beat my beloved Vikings in the 1998 NFC Championship Game. A heartbreaker for a 15-1 team with the best offense in NFL history. It was a year of magic for the Vikings - ending only after our kicker, who'd been perfect all season - missed a modestly challenging field goal in regulation.

All true Vikings fans are pessimists, having watched too many talented teams and favorable situations dissolve into miscues and disasters; so it took me all year of this amazing season before I ever got used to the winning. And it wasn't until that championship game, that I ever looked past an opponent. But I was convinced that Atlanta wouldn't be much of a challenge. And they weren't that tough, the Vikings were their own worst enemy that day.

And one final note on this rambling blog post: Two years ago, after Mike Tice's first full season - I said he should have been fired. I said it again at the end of last year. And I say it now, less than halfway through this season: FIRE HIM NOW! Bring back Bud Grant.

book capsules

Gone for Good, by Harlan Coben
My second foray into a Harlan Coben thriller and I was only slightly disappointed. The first book I'd read of his, Just One Look, was so packed with suspense that this one seemed a little slow and hollow. I found it difficult to care about the characters as much as I cared about the caper. It had a great finish, perhaps even better than Just One Look, but it was too slow in the development. In the book, Will Klein must contend with his girlfriend's disappearance and the simultaneous reappearance of his long-lost brother, Ken, who ran off 11 years earlier, a suspect in a murder case involving Will's first love. Grade: B



Dr.No, by Ian Fleming
Last year I discovered the James Bond of literature - and I was surprised to find I liked him even more than the big screen Bond, which is saying a lot. In reading Goldfinger, I found a character who was drawn just fully enough, and just fresh enough, to make me want to return again and again. With Dr. No, we encounter the beginnings of an intriguing story, with the murder of an English spy and the business of Bond - fresh off medical leave from his last assignment - being reprimanded by his director and fitted with a new gun. He is subsequently sent on a "recovery" assignment to Jamaica to solve this quaint murder mystery. Along the way, Bond finds genuine romance with a well-drawn character, made famous in the first Bond film - Honeychild Rider. Bond, Honeychild, and his trusty aid Quarrel, are all wonderful, but their nemesis and their adventure are not a match for the brilliant light they radiate, and so the plot seems clunky and light in comparison. Grade: B-

pirate health insurance

You didn't know this but, a pirate who lost an appendage, would sometimes get hazzard pay. According to the Dorling Kindersley (DK) series, pirate Bartholemew Roberts would release $800 to a member of his crew upon losing a limb.

I also discovered that two female pirates from the 18th century, Mary Read and Anne Bonny, dressed as men to acheive acceptance among the ranks of the buccaneers.

At their first meeting, Bonny actually developed romantic feelings for Read - believing she was a man. Read confided her secret identity to Bonny, and they became friends. When their pillaging mates were captured, both women escaped the death penalty - because they were pregnant.

Talk about health insurance!

Nothing Like a Lime...

I'm nuts about limes... I mean, I'm completely citrus. In fact, I'm enjoying a Diet Coke with Lime as I write this. It's amazing what a lime can do! Yesterday at lunch I asked for a fresh cut lime with my Coke, and I squeezed the ever-lov'n juice out of the thing and plopped the carcass into my drink - I was in paradise! Later at the office, I finished off my to-go-cup of Coke, reached in for the lime carcass, and sucked that one dry- Ooo-la-la!

But it's not just limes in carbonated beverages that sends me to the moon, I love to spritz lime juice on my burritos, over chicken, and in a fruit salad. And that's not to mention authentic key lime pie - made fresh while you're visiting the Florida Keys!

My position is clear. If I ever run for political office, there will be no hiding my affectations. As Ronald Reagan is to jelly beans, JohnnyVano is to limes.

This Just In...

In development is a new Muppet show for ABC - a six-part "reality" show called - "America's Next Muppet." Miss Piggy, Gonzo, and the irrepressable Kermit The Frog will be the judges as Muppet hopefuls compete to become the next member of the Muppets gang. Reportedly, the folks involved are toying with how to make the program interactive and allow we, the people, to vote.

Question: What makes a Muppet? If a bunch of non-human, non-animal, felt-fleshed entities are competing to become Muppets - what are they now? Puppets? I assumed that a piece of felt with googly eyes was in fact, only a Muppet if it was formed or designed by the late Jim Henson or his staff. Now presumably, it's inferred that one can mature, or evolve - into a Muppet. Hmmm... Stay tuned for more breaking news from myyarn.

Why do PIRATE captains always have a hook for a hand and a peg for a leg?

My son's pirate birthday party netted him a toy pirate set - which featured a captain who had both a peg-leg and a hook-hand... Why? I thought it was one or the other with pirates - but lately, I see both. That's just overkill.

What kind of luck do you have to have to lose BOTH a hand and a leg? That's not the kind of leader you'd want captaining YOUR vessel...

Being bossed around by a guy without a couple of appendages would be creepy, sure, but why would you put up with it? Clearly he's not the strongest guy on the boat (at least not anymore), and he's OBVIOUSLY not the smartest... so why is he still the captain?

Mark My Words... the Braves Will Tank

I'm no soothsayer, but I bet the Atlanta Braves run of division titles ends in 2006. They just lost the artist known as Leo Mazzone to the Orioles... so I say, "Bye-bye pennant." I think Mazzone's skills with his staff have made the Braves the success that they are. And while their inability to win the big one - is the result of their manager, I do have a lot of respect for the Braves' front office - putting together a winner through acquistions and carefully planned releases.

Braves fans have long stood atop a stoney mountain to claim with indignance that they'd rather be in the cellar, than win division after division without a championship - well now, this dream can be realized. At last, Braves fans will enjoy the wonderful life of a Texas Rangers fan, or a Cubs, Royals, or Brewers loyalist. It will be such a sweet song to hear their moaning cease.

But back to Leo Mazzone- for him to turn Jaret Wright into a triumph - says it all. Wright was worse than a has-been, but Leo made a very good pitcher out of him. Then when Wright left a year later, he reverted to sub-mediocre again. Clearly, Leo Mazzone is the difference.

Braves fans, it's time to live large like the other half - Enjoy.

Just a Few of My Favorite Places...

Prince Edward Island * Dairy Queen * Anoka, Minnesota * Key West * the Back Bay of Boston * in a book * Dunkin Donuts * Skaneateles, New York * the National Mall in Washington * used bookstores * St. Paul, MN * in a small aircraft * Como Park * on-the-air * Ft. Lauderdale * Duluth, MN * at the movies * Chattanooga * Mount Rushmore * Bridgeman's Restaurant with grandpa * the Adirondack Mountatins * Tower Bridge, London * the theatre * the South Carolina shore * new bookstores * Vermont * on stage * the rough-hewn streets of Troy, NY * the Pannekoeken House * Marblehead, Mass * the Isabella Stuart Gardner Museum * Baker's Square - Sunday nights after church * Charleston, SC * Smoothie King * the Appalachian Trail of Georgia * locally-owned bookstores * Friendly's * Ocracoke, NC * Key Biscayne * Fenway Park * new places * Beaufort, NC * Ocracoke, NC * the Lipton Tennis Tourney * Portsmouth, NH * Presidential landmarks * the Public Gardens of Boston *
Vizcaya * the Wright Brothers National Memorial * going to "Big Boy" as a child

CHAPTER ONE

His mother kept him in a shoe box the first week. He quickly outgrew this space, moving first to a roomy laundry basket, before finally claiming a bed of his own. Not a big bed, but it still counted as one - with mattress and bed rails, three inches off the floor.

On his first job, he scraped sludge from the floor of a Quikie Oil Change Center, depositing it into a sludge bucket - the final destination of which he never cared to learn. He worked next in a pizza parlor, but had to quit when he burned his hands on a pan pizza pan. He remembers how the skin on his hands ballooned up and how his grandmother stayed up with him as he soaked the swelling out of his hands in the night.

He always had a way of making people laugh, and despite his meager beginnings, he never failed to laugh loud and often - at least once a day. He liked watching the face of someone who was gearing up for a laugh, seeing the trickle that started in the neck, climbed to a quiver on the lip, and finished with a sharp exhale of "FWA-HA-HA" as their head geared backward. He had observed that, almost simultaneously, the laugher's eyes would shrink, their nose crinkle and their body spasm slightly. This brought him immense joy - and as he grew familiar with a person, he would watch for his favorite moments - in their laughter sequence.

I guess that's why he decided to be a clown. But this epiphany did not come suddenly, nor did it always feel like what he was made for, but in some small way - it made him whole. But we have gotten ahead of ourselves. We will come to the moment when he first became a clown, but only later - there is so much to tell before then.

TO BE CONTINUED...

"Be Safe..."

From time to time, our loved ones- and even our not-so-loved ones- admonish us to "Be safe." This is usually a final word before we depart on a trip, a short jaunt, or are about to be separated from the well-wisher for a sustained period.

But what are they really saying? To suggest that one should "Be" safe is to imply a certain level of action and responsibility upon us. Are they desiring for us to "ACT safely?" To do things which would contribute to an atmosphere of safe-ness? For some, that may be the case - particuarly those who are notoriously unsafe in their behavior.

But for most of these salutations, I suspect, the true meaning of the wish is for the hearer to "experience safety." Usually the refrain to "Be safe" proceeds air travel, which, unless you're the pilot - is really out of our control. So in essence, we hear this little phrase thrown around cheaply - the onus seemingly placed upon us to act in a manner which promotes safety, all the while thrusting ourselves upon the care of others and general circumstances beyond our control through which we hope to experience safety.

...Just random thoughts from a guy who truly has them. Random thoughts, that is.

Why does Burger King taste so bad? They do well with their cini-minis and their pies... but what about the rest? No one would mistake any fast food with "real food." No matter how hard you try, you just can't buy meat from the store, cook it, and have it come out like the franchises do. I'm not complaining, I happen to enjoy what McDonald's and Wendy's come up with in the hamburger department... so why can't I say the same for BK?

Why do I get unrefreshably bad breath when I eat there? Why does everything they touch taste like cardboard? Why does their bread chew like something from the space program? I want them to succeed, and I keep trying to eat there... but it's just not working for me. After I give in and go, I'm always disgusted with myself for being so weak - and I vow never to return again.

But I must say, I dig "The King." Maybe it's my nostalgia kicking in, because I was a fan of the goofy '70s "King" during my midwestern upbringing... though some of today's ads are a "miss," I love the subversive whimsy of the idea.

Trouble is, even the new and frou-frou selections Burger King has tried, fall short of the mark. But that's just me.

Question:

Do they still
call prison:
"The Big House?"