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New Feature: Tales of a Veterinary Spouse

“The best doctor in the world is the veterinarian. He can’t ask his patients what is the matter-he’s got to just know.”–Will Rogers

Episode One: You called me for what??

You may laugh, but this is literally true.  I finally became inured, but she ruined my appetite many times.

You may laugh, but this is literally true.  She has ruined my appetite many times.  Image credit unknown.

I don’t know if a veterinarian is the best doctor in the world, but I do know this:  to survive thirty years of marriage to one, I may be the most patient spouse in the world.  The early years were the worst.  Why?  In two words: on call.  Thanks to a proliferation of 24-hour veterinary emergency clinics, she no longer gets those middle of the night wake-up calls.   But here are just two of the many gems she dealt with through the years.

Phone conversation Sunday afternoon late summer day

Panicked client: “Help! My dog can’t get up!”

Dr. Sackler:  “What’s happening.”

Panicked client: “My dog can’t get up.”

An effective restraint device?

An effective restraint device?

Dr. Sackler: “Well can you describe the situation?”

Panicked client: “I see my dog outside struggling to get up and he can’t get up.”

Dr. Sackler: “Well stay calm and go out there and take a closer look.”

The dog’s collar ID tag was caught in a slot between planks on the wood deck.

Phone conversation at 1 AM, Monday Morning

Ditzy client: “Dr. Sackler, I swallowed my dog’s heart worm pill, what should I do?”

Dr. Sackler: “Mrs. So-and-so, I can’t help you.  If your dog had swallowed your birth control pill, that I could help you with. But I can’t advise you on a human accidental dosing, you have to call your medical doctor.”

Ditzy client: “OH, It’s the middle of the night, I can’t bother my doctor!”

Dr. Sackler: “What am I, chopped liver?”  CLICK!!

The second story was so ridiculous, my daughter, who was in 9th grade at the time, wrote it up and submitted it to Readers Digest for their On The Job column.  They published it–sans the closing chopped liver line– and paid her $300.  Oh, and it also turned up a couple of years later on a page-a-day calendar created from that column.  Those were fifteen minutes of  fame my wife could have lived without.

That’s enough for now, but stay tuned.  These stories are just the tip of the iceberg–they get better.

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Cosmic Quote(s) #16

“I don’t want to achieve immortality through my works. I want to achieve it through not dying.”–Woody Allen

“I’m very pleased to be here.  Lets face it, at my age, I’m very pleased to be anywhere.”–George Burns

I’ve had enough of it for now.  I’m calling a moratorium on in memoriam memeranda, momentarily.   (Try saying that five times fast.)  So if you are planning on dying, please have the courtesy to hold off for at least a few weeks.  My attention now turns back to the living, at least while I’m still breathing.

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Winter rerun: This is Not a Pipe

While I’m out photographing the Spanish countryside today, here’s an apropos rerun of one of my back posts.  What else can I say–other than “this is not a blog?”  

“I am two with nature.”–Woody Allen

This is not a pipe

The Treachery of Images, by Rene Magritte, 1928-29
Ceci n’est pas une pipe. This is not a pipe.

René Magritte’s message is rather unambiguous.  An image of a “thing” is not the thing itself.  But don’t worry, I’m not headed toward a heavy ontological discussion here.  I have a simple question which, believe it or not, my overly opinionated philosophical mind has virtually no idea how to answer.   Maybe one of you out there can help.

I love nature photography.  Flowers, birds, wildlife, oceans, lakes, clouds, mountains, landscapes–you name it, I like looking at these images and they are my favorite to photograph.  Good grief, I’ve even photographed mud puddles and insects.  And yet I am not, by any stretch of the imagination, what one would call a nature lover.  I hate gardening and yard work.  I won’t even mow my own lawn as I am allergic to grass pollen. I haven’t been camping in 30 years and only rarely go hiking.  I do spend a good bit of time outdoors, but this is almost entirely involved with playing or watching sports.  It seems that I prefer a well framed image of nature to the actual experience of nature itself.  And to add to the conundrum, this only applies to photographic images.  My preferences in other visual arts tends towards styles or schools–Surrealist (Miró), Social Realist (Hopper), Post-impressionist (Seurat, Rousseau, Van Gogh), Geometric Abstraction (Klee, Mondrian).  (Here is a link to my favorite contemporary artist, Yanick Lapuh.)

I have only just realized this–and really have no strong ideas about why this should be.  A preference for a well-composed image?  Remnants from a childhood anxiety of physical reality?  Or, like Woody, am I just at two with nature?   All you amateur psychologists please provide your opinions by email, snail mail, or pony express.  (Comments herein are OK, too)

Below, three of my personal favorite landscape photographs from my own travels, as well as a couple of representative pieces by Monsieur Lapuh.

(Click on images for full size)

Sideways tree

Sideways Tree. Looking out from the Great Wall of China. Copyright 2006, Mark Sackler

coastline

Costa Rica Coastline. Copyright 2008, Mark Sackler

Loch

A Scottish Loch. Copyright 2010 Mark Sackler

Objection Your Honer, Yanick Lapuh, 1993

Envisioned Solution, Yanick Lapuh, 2006

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BLAHS #3.2: And the winner is…

“On my tombstone just write: ‘The sorest loser who ever lived.’–Earl Weaver

It’s all over but the shouting.  Fortunately, I can’t hear you scream on the internet as long as my volume is turned down.

Essa

Essa

In a hotly contested battle, 529 ballots were cast, at least 400 of them by voters other than me.  Essa edged out Clotilda by a nose, even though I am pretty sure her nose is not the favorite part of her anatomy.  Congratulations Essa.  Or condolences, depending on how you view the BLAHS.  As for Clotilda and Sooz, I hope you are not sore losers.  Your followers tried, but could not out-stuff the ballot box.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled program.

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BLAHS #3: Women with an Attitude–You Pick It.

“A hard man is good to find.”–Mae West

“Vote early and vote often”–Al Capone

Note: Click on The BLAHS link in the sidebar to the right for full history of The BLAHS

It’s a new year, and that means a new angle.   So without further ado, let’s get started with my third installment of The BLAHS (BLog Awards Handed Out by Sackler).  In the previous installments I pointed out that, unlike the various so-called blogging awards that amount to little more than chain letters, these goodies are handed out one at a time.  Whether one would actually want to win one is another story altogether, but I leave that for you, the reader, to decide.

Mae West--A woman after my own heart.

Mae West–A woman after my own heart.

In the name of either democracy, or laziness, I am asking my readers to vote for the next blog award for the specific category of lady blogger with an attitude. Unlike the so-called nominees in those fake blogging awards that go around–and the fact that I have been “nominated” six times in the past few months verifies the bogus nature of these entities–only one of three nominees will emerge victorious.  With that honor will come the accolades and/or humiliation, not to mention the option to receive limited edition tee shirts and refrigerator magnates with typographical errors that make them valuable collector’s items.

Enough for the preliminaries.  Let’s get started.  The nominees are: (click links to view blogs)

Clotilda

Clotilda

Clotilda Jamcracker for her blog of the same name.  The first BLAHS went to The Blog of Funny Names.  The second BLAHS went to the funniest named blog I follow, Millard Filmore’s Bathtub.  So it only makes sense to nominate the funniest-named blogger I follow.  Her attitude is more in her name than her writing;  her main goal in life seems to be maintaining a comfortable middle-class American lifestyle on financial fumes.   Attitude style:  female Ebenezer Scrooge.

Essa Alroc of Essa on Everything.   This is a woman with a no holds barred libertarian attitude.  Nothing is sacred and everything is fair game.  She makes no apologies for  herself, or for that matter, anyone else.  Be sure to wear a flak jacket when you read her blog.  Attitude style: female George Carlin.

Essa

Essa

Sue (aka Sooz) of Dreamshadow59Now here is an attitude I love.  She makes no apologies for being a single female on the prowl, or for enjoying more than a drink or two along the way.  Her faux romantic advice columns are a hot hoot.  Now, if I only had her full name and a phone number.  Attitude style: 21st century Mae West.

Sooz

Sooz

So there you have it folks: a professed skinflint, a professed libertarian, and a professed nymphom–er, party girl.  And while the rules of this award allow me to bestow all three of them whenever and however I want, here is your chance to participate.  Actually, the only rules of this award are that I can do whatever I want.  And what I want is allow you 7 days from the initial post to vote with no limit on how often you can vote.  In the spirit of Al Capone, ballot box stuffing is not just allowed, but encouraged.   See you at the awards ceremony.


(Note: you don’t actually have to visit and read these blogs to vote, but it is recommended)

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In Memoriam: Stan the Man

“He could hit .300 with a fountain pen.”–Joe Garagiola on Stan Musial

“You wait for a strike, then you knock the shit out of it.”–Stan Musial on hitting a baseball

Millionth run center

The 1,000,000th run countdown. I talk to the gathered media as Stan Musial naps in the background. Check my 1975 hair!

He was the only baseball hall-of-famer I ever had my picture taken with.  Hell, he was the only hall of fame anything–sports or otherwise–I am likely to ever have my picture taken with.  The fact that he was sitting behind me, bored as hell, as I droned on at a press conference for the 1 millionth run promotion, doesn’t diminish it for me.  I will cherish the image at left as long as I live.   That I was ever that young (it was 1975) or had that much hair is something for science to ponder.

As for Musial, it may be a cliché, but his record speaks for itself.   A record 24-all star appearances (tied with Willie Mays)…a career .331 batting average…top ten ranking all-time in runs scored, RBI’s and Doubles (one more double than Ty Cobb)…the list goes on an on.  He spent his entire post-playing career as an executive for St. Louis Cardinals.  But perhaps he will be most remembered by those who knew him, before and after his playing days, as one of the finest gentlemen in the sports world.  I can attest to that, having spent two days in the SF Bay area with him during the 1974 World Series.

Mercurial PR man Ted Worner, with whose agency I promoted the millionth run contest, said of Musial, “if he hadn’t been a  baseball player, he’d be pumping gas.”   But he was a ballplayer, and that’s all that matters.  He died yesterday at age 92.  R.I.P., Stan.

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Time Out: Google This! Search Term Haiku

“If it isn’t on Google, it doesn’t exist.”–Jimmy Wales

funny_google_search_result_-722978

The last thing you want to do is throw down a challenge to this blogger.  Ever.  But that’s exactly what Elke Stangl did when she created search term poetry on her blog, Theory and Practice of Trying to Combine Just Anything.  First of all, Elke has a resume that reads like a character from The Big Bang Theory. She describes her self as a physicist turned IT security consultant turned renewable energy engineer–all this plus a stint with Microsoft.   But that aside, her big mistake was suggesting that I try my hand at search term poetry.  I will not be outdone.   Be careful what you wish for Elke, cause here comes Search Term Haiku.  The rules are simple, but the creation is anything but easy.

  1. Every word must come from search terms actually used to find this blog, per my WordPress stats page
  2. The poems must follow the accepted Anglicized format of the traditional Japanese art form: three lines of 5, 7 and 5 syllables respectively.
  3. Each line must constitute an actual individual search term phrase, verbatim.  The only change allowed is punctuation.

You asked for it, Elke.  So here they are.  (Note:  I may have to bestow a BLAHS on Elke for inspiring this idea.  But not the next one, as that has already been determined and will be posted soon.)

 

HAHA

Siri lacks humor.

Did Schroedinger’s Cat Blow up

Albert Einstein’s hair?

 

Non Sequitor

Stupid search engine:

16 Times 4 equals what?

Lawn bowling cartoons

 

 

What’s in a name?

 

Mahatma Gandhi

Luna Rosa Pirana

Lindsay Lohan meme

 

 

Canine Crazy

 

Are Dogs Chaotic?

If you roll the dice enough times

I’m part schipperke.

 

 

Quixotically Quantum

 

Haldane conjecture:

Many worlds are around us

so why don’t you leave.

 
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Cosmic Quote #14

“I like the word indolence.  It makes my laziness seem classy.”–Bern Williams

www.savagechickens.com click image for more Olympics for the Lazy

http://www.savagechickens.com click image for more Olympics for the Lazy

In case you were wondering where I’ve been lately…

Stay tuned for a reblog of my guest post on The Blog of Funny Names (tomorrow) and a new BLAHS award that will let readers pick the winner (later in the week).

Happy 2013.

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Cosmic Quote #13

“The main reason Santa is jolly is he knows where all the bad girls live.”–George Carlin

Hmmm.I Wonder what he's looking for...(www.savagechickens.com, click for link)

Hmmm.I Wonder what he’s looking for…(www.savagechickens.com, click for link)

I knew there was a reason I was jealous of the guy.  I also now know what he is doing the other 364 days while the elves are making all the toys.  At any rate, this non-theistic, almost-atheist existentialist wishes you a Merry Christmas, Season’s Greetings, happy pagan winter solstice, or whatever it is you celebrate.

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Equations of Everyday Life#3–Media Attention Span (Part Two: The Big Bust Theory)

According to my calculations [the universe] didn’t start with a “Big Bang” at all—it was more of “Phhbwt.”–Dilbert (Scott Adams)

This kind of bust? Well...maybe....

This kind of bust? Well…maybe….

In the stirring first episode of this equation, we saw how the attention paid by the media to inane celebrity stories erodes naturally over time through a process I dubbed The Media-illogical Constant.   But like many scientific theories, it is more complicated than it appears on paper.     It seems that this equation works well in a comparative media vacuum, free from the interference of new, bigger and even more outrageous celebrity stories. And though a story may also, in the absence of said later distraction,  sustain itself through the generation of new angles, it can still disappear in an instant.  When a  bigger celebrity story comes along and wipes clean the public attention-span slate, the previous prime meme is sucked into a media black hole.  It succumbs to The Big Bust Theory. I may not be able to quantify this occurrence; but I can certainly give a primordial example.

It  was 1994 and  two key dates in that year represent the ground zero points for the archetypal media big bust.

The Tonya Harding Fiasco

On January 6, 1994 a man named Shane Stant swung a lead pipe at figure skater Nancy Kerrigan’s knee, causing sufficient injury to Kerrigan that she was forced to withdraw from the US championships.  In and of itself, this would have kept the cable news and sports channels going for weeks on end, but it was only the beginning.   Within a few days, the dastardly deed was traced back to associates of one Tonya Harding, who just happened to be Kerrigan’s main rival at the competition.  The frenzy was on. All throughout the spring and summer the story took more twists and turns than a Dickens novel.  (You can read the entire timeline here).  The name Tonya Harding was on every front page and every evening news lead.  On and on into the the spring and early summer, it reached the point that many–yours truly included–wished she and her story would just go away.

Be careful what you wish for.

The Big Bust: June 17 1994

oj-simpson-mshot-700217Just when you thought there would be no end to the Harding nonsense–no “return to normalcy” to quote another famous American named Harding–the story imploded.  On  June 17, 1994 cable news channels broadcast, live and in living color,  an event so momentous that it interrupted the broadcast of the NBA finals.  It was the pursuit by the LAPD of O.J. Simpson. (Case timeline here.)

Poof. The Tonya Harding story was gone from the front pages and evening news leads, never to return to such prominence again.

As for trying to create and algorithm that describes this phenomenon, it has so far escaped me.  In the same manner that the laws of physics seem to break down in the singularity at the center of a black hole, all measures of media (and public) vacuity in the face of these kinds of events defy calculation.  The equations yield infinities.  If you have any ideas, feel free to post them here.  But have no fear, this scenario has given me yet another idea.  It’s clear that two of the biggest media attractors going are inane celebrity antics and sensational crimes.  When the two combine, as they did in both the OJ Simpson and Tonya Harding cases, the effect just screams for its own equation…and this might ultimately yield the mathematical solution to The Big Bust Theory.