Ben Franklin

I woke up hungry. I was dreaming about eating a peanut butter sandwich while I was sitting in a conference room at the public library, listening to Ben Franklin present a talk on "The Scarlet Pimpernel".

I sat up in bed and may have even said it out loud: "What the heck is a pimpernel?"

The Ben Franklin part is easy to explain. We just had the primary elections here in Colorado, and voters have taken their first steps toward the significant political housecleaning that's coming in November. "Throw the bums out!" is the catchphrase of this political season...and the quote is often attributed to the aforementioned Mr. Franklin (although I believe he was referring to the Redcoats, not to the current crop of "taxation is next to godliness" pinheads we've somehow managed to elect.)

And the time travel part (Ben being in modern-day Jefferson County and talking about a literary work produced a century after he died) is also a logical dream topic, seeing as how I've been pondering the back-from-the-future Terminating powers of Mr. Schwarzenegger, et al, for the past few days. But what I don't understand is where the pimpernel came from. My best guess is that because I enjoy making the occasional PB sandwich on pumpernickel bread, and "the Scarlet Pumpernickel" was a 1940s Daffy Duck parody of the literary Pimpernel dude, the association is close enough for my sleeping brain to make the connection.

Clear enough? OK then.

Anyway, it made me wonder if there are any other colors of pimpernels, whatever they happen to be. So I looked it up. And yes, my friends, there apparently are also white ones. The dictionary says: a plant belonging to the genus Anagallis, of the primrose family, esp. A. arvensis (scarlet pimpernel), having scarlet or white flowers that close at the approach of bad weather.

OK, fine. So now I know that if anyone uses the phrases "blue pimpernel" or "plaid pimpernel", I can laugh at him and taunt him for his lack of botanical correctness. But the quoted definition does show that those who write dictionary definitions are sometimes guilty of anthropomorphic egotism, and should receive additional diversity and sensitivity training. After all, who are they to define what is "bad" weather?

Perhaps these meteorologically-sensitive pimpernels choose to close up when a snowstorm is coming...but a penguin would consider that to be a good day, while a cloudless 80-degree sun-fest would be a complete disaster—so I think we need to pass legislation to require definitions to specify exactly the type of weather that causes pimpernels to fold, and to banish chauvenistic judgement-based descriptors from the dictionary entirely.

Wouldn't you agree?

Anyway, it got me thinking about other weird words.

I've heard of people "gnashing" thier teeth. But have never once heard about anything else being gnashed. (Well, somebody once told me that Cheech Marin used to gnash bridges...but I have no idea what that means. Probably a drug reference of some sort. Stupid hippies.)

Back to the dictionary: to grind or strike (the teeth) together, esp. in rage or pain.

Hmm. Apparently, the word has a very limited usage. But I suppose we still need it, since I know of no other terms to use in the situation where one needs to describe raging teeth. It would be cool if you could "gnash your fingernails", or "gnash your knish" or something...but I guess you can't. Oh well.

One more and then I'll shut up for the day: What, exactly, is "brimstone"? You hear of "fire and brimstone" rather often, but it's always in the context of eternal suffering as a consequence of bad behavior (such as not eating your vegetables, or listening to Lady GaGa.) You'd think that we'd be talking about some sort of "stone", possibly with a "brim"...but given the context, I had always imagined brimstone to be something acidic, or smelly, or otherwise unpleasant.

Turns out I was right. The dictionary says brimstone is: sulfer.

I'm not sure why Satan's realm has such a large supply of sulfer, but I suppose the stink does enhance the suffering and torment to some degree. But my granddad's farm used to be near the stockyards, and I know from experience that you become accustomed to odors after prolonged exposure...so I'm not sure how valuable sulfuric stench really is for the business of eternal torture. And I'm also not sure why the textbooks always use the word "brimstone", when "sulfer" is a far more common (and shorter) word. "Fire and sulfer" seems to be a perfectly cromulent phrase, if you ask me. And I'm sure Ben Franklin (and all of the Founding Fathers) would agree with me.

So with that I shall return to thoughts of tasty sandwiches and classic literature, and will bid you adieu. Have a great day, my friends, and may your dreams continue to educate and inspire you!

Scoring Adjustment

Multiple people wrote to argue the case for Schwarzenegger over Ziffel. And after much consideration and consultation with our esteemed panel of judges, I have decided to change the scoring for yesterday's quiz. You may now score one point for either answer on the Arnold question. After all, if you were stranded on a desert island with one of them and were forced to eat him to survive, the Governator would provide more meals.

I still maintain, though, that our heroic Hootervillian swine would be just as effective in saving John Connor from the liquid metal hit man.

Anyway, along with the thoughtful debate about Arnold vs. Arnold, several other topics arose that will have to be discussed in future sessions. Ergo, we shall be providing additional such quizzes in the coming weeks. And in addition to topics from the Baby Boomer generation, I'll try to develop a few questions that might have relevance to the younger members of the audience. I confess that I don't know much about your modern pop culture, what with your "skate" boards and your "Flock of Seagulls" and "Eminem" and "Miley Ray Cyprus" and such. And I'll never understand the appeal of that movie with Keanu Reeves where they're all like asleep and stuff, but still manage to have kung fu fights with those cloned sunglasses guys -- what's it called? -- Super Mario Brothers? Anyway, I'll do some research and will try to come up with topics that appeal across all generations, regardless of the fact that there haven't been any really significant advances in acting techniques since Frank Gorshin died.

Until then, keep fighting the Luddites, and have a great day!

Quiz

As your self-appointed arbiter of class, quality, and family values, I am pleased to present a brief educational quiz, complete with an answer key at the end of the column. All you have to do is select the answer that you think represents MY favorite item of each category, which is therefore the indisputably correct answer.

Let us begin.

1. Favorite Star:
     A. Wars
     B. Trek
     C. Search
     D. Kist Tuna

2. Favorite Rocky:
     A. Road
     B. Balboa
     C. the Flying Squirrel
     D. Mountain High

3. Favorite Arnold:
     A. Schwarzenegger
     B. Ziffel
     C. Drummond
     D. from Happy Days

4. Favorite Maynard:
     A. Maynard Ferguson
     B. John Maynard Keynes
     C. Maynard G. Krebbs
     D. "Country" Don Maynard

5. Favorite Pig:
     A. Babe
     B. Porky
     C. Arnold
     D. Peter Percival Patterson's Pet

6. Favorite Chester
     A. Goode
     B. Alan Arthur
     C. Atkins
     D. Cheetah

7. Favorite Michael
     A. Jackson
     B. Jordan
     C. Phelps
     D. J. Fox

8. Favorite Hick Town
     A. Hootersville
     B. Bug Tussle
     C. Mt. Pilot
     D. Wichita

9. Favorite Greedy Sycophant
     A. Larry Tate
     B. Milburn Drysdale
     C. Waylon Smithers
     D. Jackie Chiles

10. Favorite Catwoman
     A. Julie Newmar
     B. Eartha Kitt
     C. Lee Meriwether
     D. Halle Berry

Answer Key (and Assorted Fun Facts):

Give yourself one point for each correct answer, and subtract one for each egregiously wrong answer. A score of "10" indicates that you are exactly like me, and therefore intelligent, handsome, self-confident, and likely to be shunned by almost all of polite society. (Either that or you somehow understand how my mind works, in which case you should probably seek professional help immediately.) A score in the negative numbers indicates that you are probably from France.

1.  The "Sorry Charlie" campaign from StarKist Tuna was a memorable effort, notable mainly for being the first advertising blitz to feature a suicidal main character whose goal was to be filleted and eaten. Despite the bizarre nature of this concept, they managed to make Charlie seem cool. It is rumored that the character of Hannibal Lecter was inspired by these ads.

Star Wars is a classic, of course, and has touched the lives of most Americans in deeply significant ways (eg, the nearly universal adoption of the phrase "I know" in response to the words "I love you." Also, the fact that over 20% of newborn babies are now named either "Han", "Leia", or "Lando", and that Jabba the Hutt has replaced Orson Welles as the most insulting thing to call a fat person.) But Star Wars, despite its success, is merely entertainment. Star Trek is a glorious vision of the Future and a guiding light toward which we all must aspire.

And by that I mean we should definitely be building phasers and photon torpedos so we can hold off those @*#$! Klingons and Borg when they finally attack.

Anyway, give yourself one point for Trek, and subtract one if you picked the trailer trash reality show, Star Search.

2.  Subtract one if you chose Rocky Mountain High, because, seriously, that's just totally gay. The others are all good answers, and there are days when a good bowl of Rocky Road contains the true secret to happiness and contentment. But we have to go with "Flying Squirrel" here, because the whole idea for this quiz was based on MY childhood influences, and nothing was more significant in developing my outlook on life, religion, literature, etc. than Bullwinkle and his begoggled airborne rodent pal. One point for answer C.

3.  This is a close one, because everybody loved Gary Coleman. He would've also made a great Governor of California, and one cannot understate the significance of adding the word "whatchoo" to the dictionary. And while Pat Morita was fairly insignificant in Happy Days, he was great as Mr. Miyagi...and gave us one of the few strong male role models to teach us that it's OK for diminutive adults to beat the snot out of neighborhood teenage punks. I only wish he'd have used that philosophy (and associated kung fu) on that annoying dweeb, Potsy.

Anyway, give yourself one point if you chose Arnold Ziffel. I'm not 100% sure he would win in a battle with the Terminator, but I still think it's the way to bet.

4.  This one might've fooled some folks, since I was recently talking about how the hipness of Mr. Krebs. But despite the fact that he put the "beat" in "beatnik", the correct answer is Maynard Ferguson. That dude had some serious chops.

But I'm also going to allow you a point if you chose "Country" Don Maynard, just because of his relative obscurity. He was a wide receiver for the NY Jets during the Joe Namath era, and was featured in a commercial that made a huge impression on me at the time. This link contains many fascinating examples of unique and novel advertising of the era, and I'd recommend watching the entire thing. But if you only want the context for this particular quiz question, skip to the 5:07 mark in the video. (You'll also note the lovely singing voice of quite possibly the only person ever to be named "Bake".)

5.  Haven't you been paying attention at all? See question 3 above. Geez. One point for Arnold. Minus one for any of the other answers, though you get back one extra-credit point if you can accurately imitate Porky, and use this skill in the appropriate social situations.

6.  Chester Goode was the name of Dennis Weaver's character on Gunsmoke. Weaver is also notable for living in Colorado and building his home out of used tires and other garbage, as well as playing Deputy McCloud on NBC's mystery theatre. But perhaps his strongest claim to fame is playing the lead role in Stephen Spielberg's first major film, "Duel", which is a chilling tale of a road trip gone bad. If you haven't seen it, you should definitely put it in your Netflix queue.

Subtract one point if you didn't know that Chester A. Arthur was President of the United States. C'mon—study your American history, people!

There is no deduction for choosing Chester Cheetah, because Cheetos are quite yummy and I can't blame you for enjoying their spokesperson, even though he's really kinda creepy in some indefinable way. But you only get a positive point if you selected Chester "Chet" Atkins.

7.  This should've been an easy one for anyone who pays attention. One point for choosing Michael Phelps -- he's a swimmer, after all, and therefore one of humanity's finest. Subtract one, though, if you chose Jackson, who was WAY creepier than Chester Cheetah.

8.  Mt. Pilot is a real town in North Carolina, and is frequently mentioned in The Andy Griffith show. But I honestly have no idea whether it's a hick town or not. I just thought it was slightly more obscure than "Mayberry", and therefore a more interesting selection for the quiz. No points though.

You do get one extra credit point if you noticed the "s" in Hooterville and said to yourself, "Oh yes, that IS the correct spelling, dahling". And Hootersville is the correct answer, so give yourself a point if that was your selection. Yes, I know that Bug Tussle is the hometown of Jed Clampet, and therefore has a significant place on the National Register...but since it wasn't ever revealed in all its glory like Hooterville, we have to go with the home of Drucker's Store and the Volunteer Fire Department Band.

Oh, and FYI, Wichita is where I spent my youth. I shall restrict my comments to that statement alone, and leave you to think what else you may.

9.  Waylon (aka "Wayland") Smithers is the very definition of a sycophant, but doesn't exhibit any particular greediness. And while Jackie Chiles appears to be quite greedy, he doesn't really suck up all that much. So you can eliminate both those answers.

(Side note: Jackie Chiles was portrayed by Phil Morris, who is the son of Greg Morris, my favorite actor on the old "Mission Impossible" series. And for future reference in the "potential quiz question" arena, Mission Impossible just could be the answer to "Favorite TV Show Theme"... Well, either that or Hawaii Five-0.)

Larry Tate is indeed a strong candidate in this category, but the correct answer is Milburn Drysdale, hands down.

10.  If you chose answer D. (Halle Berry), subtract one point. While obviously a talented actress and a beautiful woman, she wasn't ever a real Catwoman. Catwoman requires Batman, and that leaves only the other three candidates from which to choose. (Yes, I do recognize the existence of Michelle Phillips, but c'mon...she was in the Mamas and Poppas, and therefore tainted with the Mama Cass factor, which is most un-Batman-esque. Subtract one point if you'd have chosen her had she been listed.)

The correct answer is Julie Newmar. Yes, I realize that she is also tainted with non-Batman stink by her association with Patrick Swayze and Wong Foo et al, but her performance on the TV show stands above all that. While I do enjoy and admire the portrayals presented by both Kitt and Meriwether, I felt that Newmar was the only one who really sold the whole sexual tension dynamic with the Caped Crusader. And she did the "purr-fect" line with more animal undertones than the others.

---

So—that concludes today's exam. During the course of developing the answer key, I thought of a few more categories that might be fun, so I may develop a follow-up sometime in the near future. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. If you scored well, congratulations!—You're an outstanding human being! If you scored poorly, then you probably need to spend some significant time exploring the YouTube links and their associated sidebars until you gain the proper cultural understanding and knowledge. If I have helped you begin this journey toward self-enlightenment, then I am proud to have been of service.

Continue to seek knowledge, my friends, and always watch the skies. Have a great day!

Influences

My earliest memories include the normal childhood stuff: like tormenting my little brother, making fun of my dorky sister, and playing Cowboys and Indians with my best friend, Herbert the Pervert. (Of course, we didn't call him Herbert the Pervert back then...he was still just plain Herbie.) I listened to rock n' roll AM radio, constructed enormous cities out of simple wooden blocks, and roasted ants with a magnifying glass. I learned to ride a bike, throw a baseball, and keep a wary eye out for indicators of Communism, just like every other American youth of the time.

But for me, the most enduring memories are of those who shaped my life, educated me, and molded me into the man I am today. I am speaking, of course, of television personalities.

In no particular order, I'll provide a brief summary of my childhood TV memories, and the impact they had on me:

Jackie Gleason: My mom really enjoyed this guy...which led to my earliest memory of questioning the wisdom of adults in authority. To me, Gleason was an obnoxious slob who wasn't at all funny. Of course, I never saw the Honeymooners episode where Ralph dresses up as a spaceman. (I understand it's a classic.)

Ed Sullivan: The Beatles, Herman's Hermits, Elvis, Señor Wences, and Topo Gigio—all introduced by a skeletor-ish gnome who was painfully easy to impersonate. What more could you want?

Actually, the major lesson I learned from Ol' Ed is that variety is the spice of life. In other words, a person's attention span needs to be no longer than 2 minutes and 45 seconds; oh, and also that spinning plates is a viable profession.

(Hmm. Perhaps this explains my lack of long-term career stability. Curse you, Ed.)

The Smothers Brothers: Hey, I still wish Pat Paulsen were President.

The Bradley Girls: Petticoat junction not only aroused my curiosity about women (eg, Why would human beings subject themselves to such bulky and unwieldy undergarments?), but also generated a lifetime tendency to be highly suspicious of the purity of small-town water supplies. Fortunately, I later realized that the whole "petticoats" thing was an artifact of a WWII nylon shortage, and that women weren't stupid at all...they were merely oppressed by the male-dominated patriarchy, and by burning bras and protesting and whatnot, would eventually achieve their rightful place as near-equals to men. (Except in sports, of course.)

But the most important legacy of this TV show was that it gave producer Paul Henning the resources and TV clout he needed to bring "Green Acres" and "The Beverly Hillbillies" to life. And I don't think I need to tell you how much these two shows influenced me; they were simply the deepest and most important philosophical explorations into the nature of humanity and its place in the Universe since Plato wrote "Dust in the Wind".

Batman and the Monkees: Not only did Batman bring us the timeless comic genius of Adam West, but it also taught me techniques that I would use later, when I began to explore the mysteries of dating and romance. The Monkees taught me that wearing a poof-ball stocking cap was cool, along with many other fashion tips that I still implement in my wardrobe today.

And of course, the big one:

Star Trek: I could spend the next several weeks detailing the myriad ways that Captain Kirk and his crew influenced my life. But there's no need, since I'm sure that everyone reading this could tell the same tales. The folks of the Enterprise taught us all about the need to balance logic with unbridled emotion, to understand the application of both diplomacy and karate chops, and to phaser-stun all hippies and banish Ricardo Montalban to Ceti Alpha 6. They taught us the importance of diversity, the joy of exploration, and that freedom is more important than large piles of quatloos.

To this day, I have never lost my fascination with space travel, and every decision I make today is run through the filter of WWKD: What would Kirk do? It hasn't worked out all that well for me, since I don't have Scotty there to bail me out when I get in trouble, but it's my strategy and I'm sticking to it. But every day still presents the opportunity to explore strange new worlds, and to seek out new life and new civilizations, etc. (even if it's rather metaphorical when applied to my little neighborhood).

Oh well, life is good and I have no complaints (as long as the hippies remain banished, anyway). Stay tuned for more influences-related musings, and have a great day!

Hippies, Gorns, and Water Towers

Mitch Miller died the other day. I was sad to hear that, and it brought back many memories.

I know what you're thinking: "Terry, you're far too young and handsome to remember Mitch Miller -- that was, like, totally decades ago, man." But it's true...I once "sang along" with Mitch.

He moved his arms like Mike Mercury, and his minions had a bit of a creepy-pervert uncle vibe, but he was influential, and brought the joy of shameless group karaoke to hundreds of people. And since his albums were among the few my parents possessed, I spent many an hour listening to his male chorus pop standards until I could afford to replace them with more sophisticated music, like BTO and the Osmonds.

Along with Maynard G. Krebs, Mitch was also one of the most influential proponents of the goatee. For some reason, though, the trend never developed much staying power, and was replaced by the Tom Selleck mustache a few short years later. Unlike Gilligan, though, Mitch stuck with the look until the very end, and always wore it well.

So, as a tribute to Mr. Miller and his marching-band approach to vocal harmony, I'll spend the next few blog entries discussing the turbulent times that took us from Mitch's clean-cut, suit-and-tie wearing icons of pop culture...through the bizarrely interesting times of sitars and psychedelia, and ultimately to the dark and depraved ages where Satan almost triumphed by creating Jimmy Carter and the BeeGees.

For the moment, though, I'll just leave you with a list of topics we'll discuss, and how they influenced me. They are (in no particular order):

Ed Sullivan
The Smothers Brothers
Petticoat Junction
Batman
The Monkees
And of course, Star Trek

Stay tuned my friends. And have a great day!

Rebii

...or is it "Rebuses"?

I would bet that the need to pluralize "rebus" doesn't appear all that frequently. And rightly so.

But I was impressed and pleased with the response to yesterday's picture puzzles. I was especially proud to see how many people knew Dan Issel and one or the other of the "Bo" options. (OK, here's another grammatical challenge: the plural of "Bo" would obviously be Bos, but then it could be easily mistaken to mean something completely different. Ugh.)

Anyway, because so many of you actually attempted to solve the cryptology, I have decided to occasionally include such challenges in future posts. But not today. I still have to go to work, and am therefore out of time for rebii, Bos, or any other similar mental challenges. I assume that you have all sent your donation checks, though, and that they'll be arriving via post within a day or two, and that my unimpeded-by-financial-obligation full-time devotion to this column can begin forthwith. I thank you for your support.

Stay tuned for additional tests of your intellectual prowess, insightful political commentary, training tips, and an unending supply of obscure references to people whose 15 minutes of fame probably occurred well before you were born. And as always, have a great day!

Denial

Today's topic is graphically represented by the following rebus:


You get bonus points if you can puzzle it out, and extra extra credit if your initial reaction to my opening sentence wasn't "Hey now, that there ain't Uncle Rebus, cuz he bees the codger-type dude what tells the story of Br'er Rabbit and such, not some mutant fish-supermodel-infrastructure project!"

I'm sure I'm not the only one who experienced DDFAS (Dream Displacement Focus Anomaly Syndrome), where you're lying in bed thinking about tomorrow's blog and have your thoughts pretty well organized...but then sometime during the night have a dream about a radioactive PeeWee Herman rampaging through Manhattan, Kansas, destroying all in his path as revenge for the crimes against humanity perpetrated by Kansas State University. And when you wake up, all that's left in your mind are images of purple rubble, a profound hope for a brighter future, and an odd desire to expose yourself to Gamma rays. Your blog ideas have vanished along with the night.

But that didn't happen last night. My thoughts were just as clear when I woke up this morning as they were when I drifted off to dreamland. I suspect it's because I had self-medicated to mitigate the discomfort that may have come from the above-mentioned rebus affliction, or possibly from this:



I treated my forearm and elbow area with "Burning Hot Sports Creme", which is a generic version of the IcyHot/BenGay class of treatments that probably have no real healing affect, but smell so strongly that you give yourself a powerful placebo effect just to justify stinking up your entire bedroom. But whether it's imaginary or menthol-based, I have to say that my arm feels minutely better this morning.

[OK, I'll spell them out for the Alec Baldwin fans out there: Carpal Tunnel and Tennis Elbow. See? It's obvious!]

I'm not sure whether it's all the computer work and mousing I do, or whether I've overstressed my elbow joint by crushing my son on the tennis court each weekend, but my right arm has been pretty tight lately. And for some reason, I've been curling my hand up under my pillow when I sleep, and waking up with tingly-numb fingers, too. I've been this way for months, but have ignored it, figuring that all I needed was some time away from the keyboard, and a few more yoga classes to get everything put back together.

Alas, I have not yet won Lotto, and therefore see no recourse but to continue to show up for work. It's tragic, I know, but until those government-influenced ping pong balls recognize that their highest mission is to free me up to pursue a life of leisure and luxury, I seem destined to remain bound to the work-a-day world. Sigh.

Of course, I suppose the other option would be for the readers of this blog to pitch in to donate a total of million dollars to the cause. That would mean that each of you would only need to contribute a mere $500K, and I could stop slaving away for da man, and could keep you entertained with all the latest Urkel-related news and musings. Give it some thought, please. Thanks.

Anyway, the naptha-fueled thoughts that wandered through my brain last night were these: Hasn't the Blue Man Group stumbled onto the perfect way to keep salaries under control? Talk about each member being easily replaceable! If one of them decides to ask for more money, the Head Blue Man just has to say, "Dude, I can dump paint on any old goober off the street, stick him in your spot, and nobody will ever know the difference. You work for minimum wage, or you're outta here!"

Just try holding out from training camp, generic-wad! And there'd be no need for a trading deadline, either...everyone is interchangeable. It's a brilliant idea!

Of course, it wouldn't work if people had to talk, say, like in the movies or on the radio. Which brings me to the other topic I was thinking about: Why haven't we seen Michael Dorn lately?

Oh, I can understand why Will Wheaton and Denise Crosby disappeared after Star Trek-TNG; they were pretty annoying. But Mr. Dorn is a good-looking fellow with a great voice and a dominating screen presence -- Why are people like Jude Law, Matthew McConaughy, and Jake Gyllenhall working when they completely suck?

All I can figure is that the Sci-Fi convention circuit is more fun and more lucrative than being an active screen star. So I guess if that's true, then I can't blame Worf for giving up thespianism. But if they ever do a biopic called "The Bo Jackson Story", I can't think of anyone better to star in it, can you?

We'll keep our fingers crossed. In the meantime, please remember to take frequent mouse breaks, have a great day!