Space, and the Room for It

Space exploration came a long way since I was the size of a measurable amount of it.

I remember with some pain, my first ride on a penny farthing with its big wheel and long spokes that were well engineered to cut a foot or two off anyone's legs.

With good timing though, I used my head and saved my legs.

Anyway, I'm a long time looking and can see nothing in space worth a damn.

What would keep it up?

Some viagra from venus? I don't think so!

Even if there was anything up there, who put it there? And how did they put it there? I never believed that Alien conspiracy business and often thought that a man that couldn't speak his mind, couldn't conquer much.

As for an Alien being green and skinny; we've killed many things that looked like mal-formed frogs and ate the best of them! To think that a white frog would be any more capable, is crazy. What difference would his color be to a mortal with an empty belly and color-blindness issues?

Rubbish, the lot of it!

As well as that, couldn't anyone make up anything about a place that we can't see? Like, above the sky for example.

Bring it down, and show it to me, is what I say.

Is there oil up there? I doubt it. If there was, wouldn't it come down with the rain?

Gold or silver? The same goes for that.

Gas? Okay, there might be gas, but in my experience it is best to leave it there or bury it as was done generations ago.

Someone found a bacteria on Mars, if they did. They could have got it anywhere and its not like bacteria are known to break under interrogation. I'd say that you could get the strongest truth serum and the best you could hope for is a wet bacteria as well as an empty bottle.

So, I ask you; what is up there worth a damn and who would put it there if it was?

And the exploration of space might be a waste of petrol, frog after-taste pills, truth serum and re-location papers for suspicious bacteria.

Thick Mick Henry is an "expert" columnist on history or back passage material, with <a target="_new" href="http://www.thetrivialtimes.com">http://www.TheTrivialTimes.com</a>

A Dogs Guide To... Getting Your Dog to Stop Barking

I like to bark. I mean, I like to bark A LOT. So, whattya gonna do about it? Well, if you're Amber and Terry, you're going to do NOTHING about it. Ain't nobody going to silence the Rubinman, you know what I'm sayin'? If you're NOT Amber and Terry, though (i.e. you're smart) and you want to know how to get your dog to just freakin' shut up once in a while, here's what you need to know?

Why is your dog barking?

I'll be honest here: I bark because I like it. And because it gets me some attention. I'm all about the attention. Now, you coulda probably guessed about the attention thing, but the fact that we actually ENJOY it? Who knew?

It's true, though. Sometimes I just get a kick out of it. It's like, I start barking because I'm excited, and then after a while I'm all, &quot;hey! This totally rocks!&quot; So I bark some more. And then some more after that. Then I finish up with a quick round of barking. Sometimes I come back for an encore. The truth is, by this time, like Justin Timberlake, I'm lovin' it. So, how're you gonna stop me? (Clue: you're not. You'll NEVER stop the Rubinman. But you know what I mean.)

Well, if you want to stop a dog that's barking just for the hell of it, you're gonna hafta get clever. Cleverer than Amber and Terry. Whatever you do, DON'T shout at me. You want to know what I think when you shout at me while I'm barking? I think, &quot;Coooool! They're totally barking with me! This SO rocks!&quot; Ha! Amateurs!

No, what you need to do is, you need to distract me. You could play with me. You could feed me. (Actually, you should totally feed me. That's the best thing to do. End of article.) But it's better if you TRAIN me. Uh-huh. TRAIN ME.

Now, I know what y'all are thinking. You're all, &quot;But the Rubinman is cleverer than me! I'd NEVER train him!&quot; Well, you're right. You totally wouldn't. But if you have a NORMAL dog, you can train it. Mebbe.

I am what's called &quot;clicker trained.&quot; <a target="_new" href="http://www.clickertraining.com/home/">Clicker training</a> is when you, like, get this CLICKY thing and get your dog to believe that if the thing clicks, something good happens. Could be a goodboy. Could be a big cuddle. (Note: the Rubinman is NOT a sissy. But a cuddle can be nice). Could be playing with your toys. Whatever it is, it's GOOD. The clicker is power, and once ya got power over the dog, you're the boss of it.* If you're REALLY clever, you can teach your mutt to bark on command, and then stop barking on command too, using the clicker. That's probably too advanced for you lot, though, so?

Understand why YOUR dog is barking

So, yeah, now you know why the Rubinman barks. It's important to know why YOUR dog barks, though. Here are some possible reasons:

? He is bored. ? He is scared. (I mean, I'm NEVER scared, but then I WAS raised by wolves?) ? He is lonely. ? He has seen the postman. ? Little Timmy is stuck down a well and your dog wants to lead you to that well, rescue little Timmy and get a reward. I'll tell ya, that happens to me a LOT.

Soooooo many reasons for barking there. First thing you need to do is, you need to find out which reason is the right one. I'll be honest here: it's probably the postman.

A word about the postman

Most so-called &quot;exerts&quot; will tell you that your dog barks when he sees the postman because the postman is intruding on your property and the dog can't tell the difference between &quot;friend&quot; and &quot;foe.&quot; What a lot of crap experts talk, no? If I talked crap like that, man, I'd be ashamed to call myself the Rubinman, I really would.

As any dog will tell you, we bark at the postman because we hate that sucker. In the wild, postmen are our natural enemies. Walking up our driveway day after day. Stuffing things through our door. Ringing the bell. I mean, honestly, do YOU think that's acceptable behaviour?

Stopping the barking

You ain't never gonna stop the &quot;me against the postman&quot; mentality. All you can do, really, is bribe your dog to stay quiet. Remember: we have no morals. (I mean, we sniff other dog's butts IN THE STREET, do we look like we'd turn up our noses at a spot of bribery?) We won't be offended if you bribe us.

Now, I'm not saying you should always bribe us with chocolate goodboys. (I totally AM saying that, by the way). I'm just saying the best way to get us to behave is to reward us handsomely when we behave ourselves. Goodboys. Cuddles. Rubbing our furry bellies. Do this and we will stop barking. Mebbe.

* Amber and Terry, obviously, are NOT the boss of me, though. No one's the boss of me.

Rubin is a wolf in Bichon Frise's clothing. Read his blog, the <a href="http://www.rubinman.co.uk">Dog's Diary</a>

Rubin's owner, Amber, is a freelance writer. Visit Amber's website <a target="_new" href="http://www.hotigloo.co.uk/copywriting.htm">Hot Igloo Copywriting</a>

Playing Go-Between in the Digital Age

NOTE: This article was originally published in May 2000 at *spark-online.com when my grandmother was alive. I came across the link from my Web site and, after debating whether or not to change anything, decided to leave it. As Jadzia Dax said in STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE, "If you want to know who you are, it's important to know who you've been." Of course, Edna Mode in THE INCREDIBLES SAYS, "I never look back, dahling. It distracts from the now." So I won't look back, i.e. revise, and will present this essay as it originally appeared.

* * *

April 2000

"Anyone home?" My neighbor Nancy's yellow inner tube enters the house before she does. She holds up her bottle of iced tea in silent response to my offer of a cool drink. No one in 80-degree California desert weather would be without iced tea. Except for me. I still have my fourth cup of coffee in hand, waiting to burn my tongue the way the sidewalk outside does bare feet.

"I'm off to the pool to do my exercises," Nancy says. "But before I go, do I have any messages?"

I smile apologetically. "None of the grandkids have written."

Nancy stands there, face puckered in an oddly stoic expression. "None of them? Didn't they get my e-mails?"

"There's no way to tell."

"They did before. They wrote me back."

I nod. "They're probably just busy." Nancy has at least seven grandchildren scattered across North America. One of the girls is reportedly backpacking in Europe right now. The rest of them are all in college.

She shakes her head slowly. "So much for 'If you had e-mail, we'd write you more often.'"

"Do you want to send them anything?"

"Nah. I have to go do my exercises." Nancy maneuvers around with the inner tube. She pats me on the shoulder. "Thanks anyway."

"I'll come get you if there's anything in my mailbox," I say before I head back to my home office. Sitting down at my keyboard, I ignore the sun shining off the palm trees and once again check Outlook Express. E-mail from my mother. Offers from Amazon.com. The e-mail newsletters I tell myself I don't have time to read.

Nothing from Nancy's grandchildren. I call up their addresses, cut and paste them into the TO line, then proceed to type: "Dear Kids, Your grandmother really wants to hear from you. She would be so tickled if you would write. Stay in school, have fun in Europe, nurse that ankle (whichever one of you is playing football), and keep warm! Love ya, Kristin."

I click Send, and get back to whatever I was doing before Nancy's visit. Hours later, I'm still checking my e-mail for Nancy, eager to tell her the new most-anticipated three words: "You've Got Mail!" I feel like the old switchboard operator in a small town, listening to everyone's business. An odd image, that, considering the vast computing power of the Internet.

Or maybe not. After all, hackers can get into your AOL or Microsoft Outlook Inbox and read all about your last fight with your mother, your latest campaign finance blunders (you know who you are), that you hate your boss, or your wild fantasies about Harrison Ford. Heck, your company and the government can read the same things, and I guarantee you they'll have less fun than the hackers.

Voyeurism: the final frontier. I could make a case for The Need for Connectedness in this Information Society. After all, E.M. Forster put it best: "Only connect." And e-mail is allowing us to reach people we wouldn't spend 33 cents, or a nickel a minute for the latest long distance plan, to talk to. It's easy, it's convenient, and as my neighbor says, "It's fun!" It allows us to feel the thrill of anticipation we used to feel when the mail carrier arrived. But that was before we became adults. The anticipation dulls when you know the mail will bring the electric bill, a solicitation for the Policeman's Ball, or a flyer titled "Have You Seen Me? Missing Children." All important, but not satisfying.

Think of writing a letter in ancient times, the thought in the act of writing. We still enjoy the passionate love letters of Napoleon and Josephine, Abelard and Heloise. It is a glimpse into someone's life we never knew.

There is something appealing about connecting this woman, who volunteers for the Red Cross and hesitates to buy a computer, with her grandkids. I am not just the letter-writer or the secretary. I am part of the connection.

Days later, still no word from the kids. I write them another letter: "Dear Kids, Your grandmother needs you! If you're worrying about her bothering me, don't. Please write to her. Only a few minutes of your time and I won't tell your parents all the things she's told me, things she would never tell your folks. What can I say, she's an incredible woman."

I'm not bluffing. I know how to find their parents. And I think they know I know. The next day, I get an answer from one of the girls: "Dear Kristin, How many things have you done that you didn't want your parents to know about?" (More than she has.) "Get on with your life and let us get on with ours. Some of us have midterms. I don't mean to sound rude. I love my grandmother. Sometimes I just get?busy. Tell her I'll call her."

I'll call. And that reminds me: When was the last time I called someone instead of just writing an e-mail? Or actually sent a card? In my memories box are two dozen typewritten letters, liberally splashed with White-Out and full of mistakes, many crossed out with X's. Several of these are writing critiques. The writer, my master's thesis final project advisor Ben Masselink -- former Marine, novelist, screenwriter, columnist and teacher -- died in January. If my house caught on fire and I had to save one item, it wouldn't be my Gateway laptop. It would be those letters, as well as every card I've ever received. Some of them are from people I rarely see. And yes, all the printed e-mails I saved.

E-mail is great, e-mail is wonderful. But it's what's behind e-mail that makes it great.

Nancy knocks on the door with her inner tube. "Anyone home?"

I smile and say, "You've got mail."

Movie reviewer/screenwriter Kristin Johnson composes personalized poems, speeches, toasts, vows, and family memories. Visit <a target="_new" href="http://www.poemsforyou.com">http://www.poemsforyou.com</a> to order your personalized memories. She is also co-author of the Midwest Book Review "enthusiastically recommended" pick Christmas Cookies Are For Giving: Stories, Recipes and Tips for Making Heartwarming Gifts (ISBN: 0-9723473-9-9). A downloadablemedia kit is available at our Web site, <a target="_new" href="http://www.christmascookiesareforgiving.com">http://www.christmascookiesareforgiving.com</a>, or e-mail the publisher (info@tyrpublishing.com) to receive a printed media kit and sample copy of the book. More articles available at <a target="_new" href="http://www.bakingchristmascookies.com">http://www.bakingchristmascookies.com</a>

The Army Corp of Engineers Having Issues Fixing Breach

The Army Corp of engineers is having a tough time filling in the breaches in the levees. They have tried to use giant sand bags to drop into the hole. Three-Thousand pound bags have been dropped into the breach but to no avail. Lake Pontchartrain has a lot of weight behind it and fixing the breach and pumping out the water could take months.

I therefore have an idea. Now before you say my idea is crazy, remember the President to think on this and that no idea is too far out, we need to put on our thinking caps. Good, I have an idea. Most of the lawyers in New Orleans and the Gulf Coast have lost their offices in Hurricane Katrina. They can no longer practice law, since no courts are open for them to file lawsuits and lawyers will just hamper rebuilding efforts anyway. I therefore propose that we use Lawyers to fill the New Orleans broken Levees. We help expire as many lawyers as it takes to fill up the breach-gap left by the Hurricane with dead lawyers.

Unfortunately they are so full of shit they do not sink very well. Normally human feces floats and a perfect example of that density proof in physics is the stuff already floating in the New Orleans Soup Bowl. I propose to harden them in a fast heavy plaster mixture with sand bags attached to the abdomen, because it you leave the rope attached which you used to coax them into their civic duty, then eventually the head will depart once submerged for several weeks and we do not want a re-breach if their bodies float away. So we need to leave them secured with straps.

Finally a way for the lawyers to pay back society and do some good in the world; Think on this, as there has to be a way to make this happen.

"Lance Winslow" - If you have innovative thoughts and unique perspectives, come think with Lance; <a target="_new" href="http://www.WorldThinkTank.net/wttbbs">http://www.WorldThinkTank.net/wttbbs</a>

Slip-sliding On A Peel

Every day, or at least every other day, we make a fruit smoothie at mid morning. Almost without fail, these smoothies contain bananas; so, we go through about 10 or 12 bananas a week. Depending on my mood or the availability, these smoothies may also contain mango, papaya, pineapple, coconut or whatever other fresh fruit comes our way plus ice, water and the blender. Maybe also yoghurt or wheat germ.

However, banana is the usual and requisite smoothie base.

One day, after being out of bananas for an unreasonable amount of time (say 2 or 3 days), I journeyed to town for the morning farmer's market. I went to my regular produce lady, Latina.

&quot;Morning darling,&quot; she greeted me as usual, &quot;How's your woman?&quot;

&quot;Almost as sweet and beautiful as you,&quot; I reply, earning a kiss and a smile.

I picked out the various fruits and veggies that either caught my attention or she told me to buy. (&quot;She'd be buying this if she were here, ya know&quot;)

&quot;Bananas?&quot; I ask. &quot;Nope. No bananas,&quot; she deadpans.

&quot;Who has bananas then?&quot; I ask, hoping that she will point me to her favorite competitor.

&quot;No bananas anywhere.&quot; She is adamant. &quot;None?&quot; I am incredulous, &quot;They are the main crop of this island. How can there be no bananas? There are always bananas.&quot;

&quot;T'ain't none nowhere now,&quot; she affirms.

&quot;Are you trying to tell me there are no bananas on an island that survives on its banana exports?&quot;

&quot;Yes, we have no bananas,&quot; she says with a wicked smile.

'Harry, please save me', I think; 'this cannot be true; a mellow yellow flashback?'

'Come Mr. Tally man, tally me bananas; me tired and me want to go home' he echoes, answering from almost 40 years ago. I go home, sans banana, stunned, dazed and confused.

Two days later, a neighbor shows up with 200 bananas. &quot;I hear you want some,&quot; he says.

A few days later, we are having two smoothies a day and giving away banana bread to all our neighbors; a million fruit flies hover in my kitchen and, in my dreams, there is this recurring vision of Carmen Miranda. I am a cultural refugee, caught in a forgotten Calypso tape loop or a cosmic slapstick joke.

? Leslie Fieger. All rights reserved worldwide.

Leslie is the author of The DELFIN Knowledge System Trilogy: The Initiation, The Journey and The Quest plus many more success publications. He also the co-author of The End of the World with Hugh Jeffries and Alexandra's DragonFire with his daughter Ashley. Subscribe to his free and ad-free eZine at <a target="_new" href="http://www.ProsperityParadigm.com">http://www.ProsperityParadigm.com</a> or <a target="_new" href="http://www.LeslieFieger.com">http://www.LeslieFieger.com</a>

Reprinting and republishing of these articles is granted only with the above credit included. Permission to reprint or republish does not waive any copyright.

Used Condom Found In Restaurant Salad Bar; Waiter Embarrassed To Tears

Evidence of after-hours activity turned up at a Big Boy restaurant salad bar in Detroit last week, embarrassing not only the perpetrators, but nearly everyone associated with the company.

Apparently, Mike Finney and Rhonda Carrion were working together to close down the restaurant's soup, salad and dessert bar and, with no one else around, culminated a night of flirting with sexual intercourse right on the bar. Witnesses said they'd been flirting almost the entire shift, and that it was just a matter of time before this happened.

"I speak for the entire company," said Big Boy spokesman, Bob Shue, "when I say that we are completely, totally, and unequivocally embarrassed at this whole situation. I mean, did you see how small that condom was. Nobody could possibly have a penis that small..."

Added Shue, "This really gives Big Boy a bad name."

The condom was found by the morning set up crew who initially mistook the prophylactic for a pencil erasure. The incident was immediately reported to the kitchen supervisor. "I didn't know what the hell it was at first," he said. "I thought it was a chewed-up chicklet."

Due to the incident, two of the original employees on the scene requested the rest of the day off because they are reportedly still on the break room floor, rolling around with uncontrollable laughter.

"I didn't think we served shrimp until Friday," said one doubled-over employee. "The toothpicks are supposed to be at the front door. I just peed my pants..."

Finney was unavailable for comment due to the fact that he was reportedly extremely shaken up, and "crying like a little girl." Adding to his predicament, he faces a mandatory write-up, and the possibility of up to a three-day suspension.

"Rhonda is who I really feel bad for," said Shue, "I offered her paid leave, but she wants to work through this...poor thing."

Carrion did, however, release a brief statement offering an apology to everyone involved, saying that she was "totally embarrassed" and "completely unaware we even had sex."

After over 12 years as a waiter and bartender, Dennis Rymarz walked completely away from the business and launched Don't Tip the Waiter, a one-of-a-kind satirical publication that reports fictional news and events from the restaurant industry.

Initially intended specifically for servers and bartenders, the publication is now read by a rapidly growing audience that includes just about anyone who goes out to eat.

Don't Tip the Waiter is distributed free-of-charge to bars and restaurants in the Detroit area, and can be read on line at <a target="_new" href="http://donttipthewaiter.com">http://donttipthewaiter.com</a>

Cheer-Leadership or All I Need to Know About Business I Learned from Cheerleading

Thanks to teen movies, many people have this stereotypical idea of cheerleaders as being ditzy and mean. However, there are a great many life-lessons that can be learned during your time on the team that have surprising application in the business world.

1. Getting to the top of the pyramid means taking a few risks. The person at the top of the pyramid is the one who is willing to take the risks, usually in the form of a backflip or a layout. It helps to be light, nimble, and flexible. Since you are the person with the farthest to fall, you have to be able to rely on the stability of the team suporting you.

Fortunately, in business no one actually tosses you ten feet into the air and expects you land on your feet.

Well, almost never.

2. Step lightly on your way to the top. You can't simply manipulate and coerce your way to the top of the pyramid. Well, you can, but then when it comes time to perform a trust fall, you may have a slight problem.

This corollary of point number one seems to have escaped quite a few people. Some seem to think that "underlings" are meant to be stepped on, climbed over, and not-so-subtly kicked on the way up. It's one thing to accidentally land on someone's foot, but some people leave a trail of crushed clavicles and contusions. These are the same people who discover that when they are in trouble, no one will return their calls.

Make sure you know the difference between who is "underneath you" and who is "holding you up" - it's a big one.

3. Keep cheering loudly, even you are winning. This is a marketing lesson if ever there was one. So you've landed the big client. Maybe you've landed several. Don't stop marketing your company and looking for new clients just because you are currently busy. Projects end, businesses change, decision-makers come and go - make sure you've got new clients lined up. It's the only way to keep your company growing, your cash flowing, and V-I-C-T- oh nevermind.

4. Having the lead at halftime doesn't mean you can slack for the last half of the game. So you were first to market with your product, or maybe you built a better mousetrap.

Right now there is someone out there thinking about how they can capture your market share with a bigger, better, faster version.

Besides, in business the game doesn't actually end - you might be winning at a given moment, but you never can say you've "won."

(I know: that was a stretch for cheerleading. But cheerleaders need to stretch.)

5. As mom used to say, "if you are going to do a backflip in a miniskirt, you'd better be wearing your best underneath." Actually, when mom said it, I think there was a bus involved somehow, but close enough.

Don't call attention to practices that you don't actually want scrutinized. Better still, don't get involved in practices that can't stand up to scrutiny. Sooner or later someone is going to examine what's behind the hype.

Sometimes it's vapourware, and sometimes it's fraud. Sometimes it's just a matter of making an announcement of your latest greatest product so far in advance of it actually coming to market that the buzz comes and goes without paying off in terms of sales.

Whatever the cause, get your house in order before throwing the doors open. Sooner or later, someone is going to ask that question.

For more details, see: Hollinger, Enron, or Worldcom. Of course, it's best not to get mental images of Bernard Ebbers wearing a miniskirt.

? 2005 Gisela McKay. Gisela McKay is Chief Technology Officer of pixcode Inc. Gisela envisions new applications for technology, and then makes sure they become reality. Some of her projects include: <a target="_new" href="http://NaturalHealthcare.ca">NaturalHealthcare.ca</a>, <a target="_new" href="http://CanadaEventsCalendar.ca">CanadaEventsCalendar.ca</a>, and <a target="_new" href="http://BusinessPartnerships.ca">BusinessPartnerships.ca</a>. Gisela wrote this article to combat that common exclamation: "YOU were a cheerleader? But you seem so smart!"