The Greatest Gourmet Sweedish Chef In Buccaneer Bay

He was a famous Sweedish chef upon a ship to Brazil
He made the meanest meatballs spiced with savory and dill
He was the best chef in his field
But then some pirates came along and now he's making their meals
He's with the pirates now
He's baking swill souffle
He's the greatest gourmet Sweedish chef in Buccaneer Bay

They made him boil seaweed for the crew to eat
It really brought him down because they had no meat
The captain seemed to want a treat
For the next day captain commandeered a fishing fleet
And now the buccaneers cheer, and scarf flounder flambe
He's the greatest gourmet Sweedish chef in Buccaneer Bay

A root, a toot, a ladle in his boot
He bakes them grog-lemon beans
So have no worries
For although they make a flatulant team
They prevent scurvy
And now the buccaneers cheer, as they eat shark fillet
He's the greatest gourmet Sweedish chef in Buccaneer Bay

He was the greatest gourmet Sweedish chef in Buccaneer Bay
And when he made his greatest gourmet dishes
He was spicy as a salty spray
And when he made those meals the buccaneers ate all night and day
He's the greatest gourmet Sweedish chef in Buccaneer Bay

Lickupa lickitylipa lickitylipa lick lick
They dined all night and all day
On mackrel chowder and oyster-lime puree
They got no scurvy
And those buccaneers cheer for their swordfish souflee
He's the greatest gourmet Sweedish chef in Buccaneer Bay

He fills those bucker's bellies with goodies every night
And they gobble down some more in the early bright
They raise their grog and lick their plates
And they'll be coming back for thirds before it gets too late
Arr arr they cheer for him at the end of the day
For that greatest gourmet Sweedish chef in Buccaneer Bay

A sip, a slurp a sat-is-fying burp burp burp
Those pirates once thrived on risk
Now they dine in style on grapefruit lobster bisque
Say - so long - scurvy
And those buccaneers cheer for their pirate buffet
And the greatest gourmet Sweedish chef in Buccaneer Bay

It's Alive

First I had a head
It was mummified
Then I dipped it in some goo
And made it grow a thousand times
And when I stitched it on a body
And I chased away the flies
It blinked it's eyes
Orbs of enormous size

And then it turned
It winked at me
I jumped up into the air
And danced with scientific glee
Then I looked down and realized
There was work yet left to do
It was missing both it's legs
I needed legs
I needed glue

Go hunchback go!
Into the night!
It needs some legs now
It needs some legs to make it right
That hunchback returned
With legs muscular and big
I sewed them on
The beast got up and danced a jig

Now it's alive!
Yes it's alive!
It's a monolithic monster
With super powers
And it's mine
It needs electricity
And scientific remedies
But it's alive
Yes it's alive

Oh...
I spent my entire life
In ridicule
I was called a maniac
And an egocentric fool
I suffered jeers and fears of ignorance
I was scorned with despise
But now - I am on the rise

My theory's true
And I am free
I'm not locked up in that rubber room
Like you thought I aught to be
And now I stand vindicated
By a monster big and mean
Now look who's fooling who
And who's pants are full of pee

Go hunchback go
Into the night
It needs some turtle wax
To make it's scales so shiny bright
They'll try to bring it down
With automatic guns
Bombs and laser beams
My monster's gonna have some fun

Cause it's alive!
Yes it's alive!
It's a monolithic monster
With super powers and it's mine
It needs electricity
And some extra TLC
Cause it's alive
Yes it's alive

Go hunchback go
Into the night
It needs plutonium
To feed it's monster appetite
They'll try to bring it down
With automatic guns
Tanks and air-o-planes
My monster's gonna have some fun

Cause it's alive!
Yes it's alive!
It's a monolithic monster
With super powers and it's mine
And with electricity
It'll bring this city to it's knees
Cause it's alive
Yes it's alive

It's alive!
Bwaaa haaa haaa, haa haa ha, ooo oo

Baby Rug Glue

 I am pleased to introduce our newest product - Thompson and Thompson Baby Rug Glue!  This revolutionary new product not only has terriffic properties with both natural and synthetic fiber carpets, it also bonds quickly and strongly to babies!  Here to discuss the usefulness of this product is Nancy, a day care worker from our clinical trials group who has been using baby rug glue for the past six months.

You have no idea how wonderful baby rug glue is!  I used to pull my hair out caring for six or eight kids at a time - what with their running around and screaming and running around and crying and running around and tearing the house apart.  Now I just glue the little buggers to the floor.  Oh, they still scream and cry, but now I can go outside, have a cigarette, and I don't have to put up with it.

Sounds good.... 

Not only that, but thanks to baby rug glue I can now watch forty five kids at a time.  I've got them stuck in the living room, the bedroom, down the hall... I've even got two stuck to the welcome mat!  I used to drive an old Hyundai, but now I'm sporting around town in my new BMW.  I'm thinking of carpeting a warehouse, so I can expand operations even more.

So baby rug glue has put you on the fast track to success.

You have no idea!  And I have so much more time to myself.  Once you stick 'em to the floor, you can do anything and not have to worry about them getting into mischief.  I can go shopping, to the movies, anything!  I just have to make sure I'm home before the parents arrive.

How do the parents feel about baby rug glue?

Well, you know, there are a lot of people who don't have the vision to embrace technological progress...  And it's not always easy to tell which way they will react...  That's why I just throw blankets over the kids and tell the parents it's nap time.

Say, does anyone in the audience have a baby with them so we can have a demonstration?  Anyone at all?  You.  In the front row.  Is that a baby you are trying to hide under your jacket?

No.  It's my purse.

Riiiight.  Why don't you bring your "purse" up here so we can do a demonstration?

I'd really rather not....

Oh, come on!  We really have your best interests at hand.  Don't you ever worry that your baby will get into the Drain-O or rat poison when you're not looking?

I child protect my cupboards.

Like that really works.  Children are born safe-crackers.  They can get into anything they set their minds to.

You know, I once had a kid get his head stuck behind the toilet.  It took two jars of Vasoline and over an hour to pry him out, and he still needed to have his ear sewn back on!


It's time for a word from our sponsor - Thompson and Thompson!  See you in just a couple short minutes!

Friends in High Places

I heard mallards and coots
Ducks I thought I'd shoot
As I breathed in the fresh evening air
A star 'gan to grow
And I gazed as it's glow
Grew to kaliedescope glare
And those lights in the skies
Well they blinded my eyes
And I knew this was no normal plane
And I swear that it's true
This could happen to you
Better listen when you hear me say

'Cause I was beamed on a shiny spaceship
Where they put their probes
In your probeless places
That I won't say
But it ain't ok
They tagged my ear with a spacey stapler
Then they flipped my lid and zapped my brain
Oh I know this - it sounds insane

Then they left me there
In my underwear
Covered in alien spores
I looked such a sight
All those ducks took to flight
And I made my way back to the shore
Hey, I told police, radio, and tv
They all laughed for an hour, but then
I got a call from that ol' rag Enquirer
It's putting my story to pen

'Cause I was beamed on a shiny spaceship
Where they put their probes in your probeless places
That I won't say
They got my DNA
They tagged my ear with a spacey stapler
Then they flipped my lid and zapped my brain
Oh I know this - it sounds insane

The last stanza get's repeated a bunch of times at the end of the original song, which is great in a serious song but seems to me like a bad idea in a comedic version.  I mean, you might think it's funny the first time through, but by the sixth or seventh time it gets old.  To get around this, this is my version of the ending.

The last stanza gets repeated, but the tempo increases so that with each repeat it is spoken faster.  The volume slowly fades, so that by the time it reaches an auctioneer's pace the song fades out.  A bit before this time, there is alien chatter that starts in quietly and slowly increases in volume.  I'm thinking that there should be a bunch of alien voices, so it's like you are walking into an alien party, or space bar.  The last twist is that as the alien voices become louder, they slowly begin to transform from gibberish to quacking, to kind of tie back to the duck hunter opening.

It may be hard to envision, but it sounds really good in my mind.  I only hope that I can do it justice.

Time Travel Necessities

I have a number of ideas for books that I may one day write, if I ever decide that I want to take the time to do that, that is.  One of my favorites is a travel guide specifically for time travellers.

It would include times and places where you could meet interesting people, or experience once in a lifetime events.  It would also include times and places that are unwise to visit, so you can avoid being caught in a hurricane, war, or molassas flood.  Additionally, it would inform the would be time traveller of unusual customs that they should be aware of when visiting different eras.   Time travel can be expensive, so there would be a section on notable stock price peaks and valleys, sporting event outcomes, and "lucky" lottery numbers.

The coolest part about this idea, is that it's a book that I may not even have to write!  I'll be having a book signing event at the Almaden Plaza Barnes and Noble in San Jose, last Saturday between the hours of 2-4pm.  I will be very appriciative if you bring an extra copy for me!

A Premonition, a UFO, and a Near Death Experience (True Story)

What doesn't kill you gives you a great story to tell, over and over, to anyone who will listen.

One night many years ago, I was happily singing my way up the winding road leading to the top of Mt. Hamilton, home of the James Lick Observatory.    I was in a Zepplinish mood that night, and had put my Presence tape into the cassette deck.  About half-way through Achilles Last Stand, I had this weird conviction that I wouldn't be hearing that song again.  It really creeped me out, and I thought about turning around and going home.  Instead, when the song ended I simply rewound the tape and played it again.  I wasn't going to let some fanciful notion get in my way of some serious stargazing.  Convinced that I had outwitted my premonition, I continued merrily on my way.

I had driven about two thirds of the way up to the top when, as I rounded a turn, I noticed a strange light low in the sky. Now, this happened too quick for me to get more than a couple glances, but as I came around the next bend, there it was again. Still no time for a clear view, but it was enough to say, yes, there was something strange in the sky.   It shimmered with color, kind of like the reflectors on the side of the road, yet it held it's position in the sky.  My curiosity fully engaged, I decided to get a better look at the next opportunity. The next bend was a wide, gentle curve which allowed great visibility. As I approached it, I slowed the car down. Twenty, fifteen, ten miles an hour, I neared the turn and saw for a third time what to me will always be a UFO.

For, before I had the opportunity for the light to become an "IFO", I looked back at the road to find that the curve was not quite as gentle as it seemed. I turned and managed to keep the left two wheels on the road. As the car ground to a halt, my mental dialog went something like this:

"Crud! There goes my new $400 muffler." The car began to teeter. "This isn't safe. Do I have the time to take off my seatbelt and get out of the car?" "If I get out, the car will surely roll over sideways." "Still, I don't want to be in here if the car does tip over." The car began to tip over.

"Ok, too late for the seatbelt idea. Glad I still have it on." The side of the car began to make crumpling noises. "I wonder how much that is going to cost." The car rolled upside-down. "How am I going to get to work in the morning?" The car completed it's first sideways flip and began the next. "Hey! I'm on a mountain!!!" The car completed it's second sideways flip and began the third, gaining speed. "I'm going to die! In the movies the cars always burst into a ball of flames!"

The car began it's fourth sideways flip, the last that I kept count of. "I'm still alive.. If I make it out of this, I want to have my limbs. Keep to the middle." "I've knocked down a couple of small trees so far. What if one jabs inside the car and kills me!?!?" "Can't do anything about that. Keep to the middle. You want your head as far away from the window as possible." "This car's sure to blow up in a burst of flame!" "Can't do anything about that. Keep to the middle. You need both of your hands to type." "The car's flipping end over end now. How much farther till the bottom?" "They always explode when they hit the bottom!"  "Keep to the middle." "It's stopped flipping! I'm right-side up and rolling backwards! I just knocked down another tree." "Brake! Pull the emergancy brake!" "Jammed! Step on the brake!" The car stopped.

I sat there for a while, with my foot clenched on the brake, trying to figure out how I was going to get out of the car. The car was still on a steep incline, facing up the mountain, and my door was jammed. Do I dare take off the seatbelt and try to climb out the window?  Smoke or steam was billowing from the front of the car, raising more exploding car concerns.  Do I dare stay in the car?  Fortunately, the car had lost one of the front wheels on the way down, so when I had gathered the courage to ease my foot off the brake the car stayed still.

Though the car was totaled, I came out of the car without any injuries at all. My foot did require some stitches when I stepped on some barbed wire while climbing up the side of the mountain in the night, since my sandals had left both my feet and the car on the way down. And, I also got the worst case of poison oak in my life. But I was alive! ...and left with one heck of a story.

Life lessons:

* Buckle up!
* Come to a COMPLETE stop before stargazing.
* Don't waste time on the things you have no control over.
* In real life, cars don't always burst into flames.
* If you are in an accident, and the door is jammed... try unlocking it.”

Fun at the Grocery Store

Consider for a moment that we surveyed kids with the following question: "What is your favorite part of the grocery store?"  In an informal survey, which was just performed within my own head, here are the following answers, in the order of frequency chosen.

1) Candy section
2) Cereal aisle
3) Toy section
4) Pastry section
5) Ice cream aisle. 




I think the survey was flawed, because I would have expected the ice cream aisle to be much more highly rated, but that's beside the point.

The produce section didn't even make the top ten, and yet had this question been asked of an eleven year old me, this would have been my hands down response. You see, long before there was a game called Jenga, I was honing my Jenga skills using apples, oranges, tomatos, potatoes, squash... anything that could be stacked. The object was the same as the game: to take as many strategically selected objects from the bottom of the pile and put them on top, with the intention of making the entire pile as unstable as possible.

I would move through the produce displays as quickly as possible, and then watch to see if any of the customers behind me tripped any of my produce traps.  It was especially entertaining when single customer would collapse multiple piles, or when multiple customers caused simultaneous collapses.

In retrospect, I feel a bit bad about being the cause of so much bruised fruit and veggies, but not so much that I won't occasionally destablize a pile for old time's sake.

Time is a Cheeseburger

For the sake of analogy, let's say that time is a cheeseburger.

Now say I wanted to divide that cheeseburger up into it's smallest functional components. You might first start by separating it into all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions, and a sesame seed bun. Each of those could have it's own value of time: beef patty = three weeks, special sauce = four days, lettuce = nine minutes... Not very useful yet, so we need to keep going. Since this is a thought experiment, and super-powerful high-tech equipment is pretty cheap to think about, I'm going to purchase a nano-blender for our lab. We put the cheeseburger into the nano-blender, and out come atoms - carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and whatever else is in there. Now, I know that technically atoms can be divided into electrons, protons, neutrons, and eventually even down to some hypothetical quarks that can travel backwards in time, but for the purposes of this thought experiment I am going to call the atom the smallest particle of time. It doesn't matter which kind; every atom equals one moment.

You can forget about the cheeseburger now. I can't really work my mind around the whole cheeseburger/time thing anyway, but I introduced the concept for two reasons.

1) I like cheese.
2) I wanted you to think about dividing time into chunks too small for us to observe.

Now, I would like you to imagine that time is a walnut tree, and not just because I like nuts. People who tend orchards have an interesting way of growing walnut trees. The type of walnut trees which grow the best nuts are vulnerable to blackline disease, which attacks the roots of the tree. To get around this, another type of walnut tree is planted which is hardier and not affected by the disease. The nuts of this tree are not so great, so when the tree reaches a certain height, branches of the tasty nut type of walnut tree are grafted onto the trunk. In time these grafted branches produce the yummy nuts those orchardeers are looking for. How is this like time? That single trunk of the walnut tree, the blackline resistant part represents the past. The past is a single line of moment-atoms strung together and forever frozen - like the frames on a roll of film. The yummy nut branches represent potential futures which are available to us, and the point of the grafting... This is now.

What Is and What Should Never Be

I saw something at the supermarket that I would like to share.  Actually it was in the supermarket parking lot, and I noticed it as I was making my way toward the door.

There, parked three spaces down from my car was a pickup truck.  It was an old pickup truck, that somebody had gotten a lot of use out of.  It had quite a few dents and dings, and the paint was faded and chipped in some places.  In others, it had been spray painted to kind of spruce it up a bit.  The licence plate was hanging at an angle, being held up by only one screw.  For that matter, the bumper was hanging kind of funny too.  The truck had a homemade camper shell, made of odd sized pieces of plywood cobbled together.

And if this were all I saw, I wouldn't be writing about it now.  I mean, I've driven my share of clunkers too.  But there was this word, sloppily painted on one of the larger pieces of plywood - a word and a phone number - that made me stop and stare, and let it all sink in.

"HANDYMAN"

Handyman.  And it made me think.  There are times when no advertising at all is better than advertising poorly.  He'd probably have better luck not advertising at all, waiting for someone to accidentally dial his number, and say, "Sorry, there's no Dorris at this number, but do you happen to need a handyman?  'Cause that's what I do." 

It's plain to me why he didn't have the funds to make his vehicle a little more presentable, and it left me feeling a little sad.  Mind you, I'm not the one to be throwing stones about someone's handyman skills.  While I consider myself highly intelligent and capable, my home repairs usually don't turn out quite the way I think they will.  I really could use a good handyman myself.  And, I'm sure the owner of that truck could use the business.  But, while it really shouldn't matter, I think I want one with better marketing skills.

Dream Interpretations

Books that claim to be able to interpret your dreams bug me.  I'm not saying that I don't believe that they have no meaning - I mean there's probably some reason that the mind churns this stuff out, even if it's just the brain's natural equivilant of zoning out in front of the tv.  My beef is with the arrogance of the book's maker to assume that they can divine the symbolic signifigance of any of the elements of a dream.

Say you dreamt of a cow.  "Cow" is going to have a much different meaning to a butcher than to a farmer who has to shovel their patties out of the barn every day, in the same way that a Hindu would have different "cow" thoughts than a burger junkie.  And I'm pretty sure that the book doesn't take into account that the cow was tap dancing in a tree while a mime was attempting to jump over the moon inside his invisible box.

In my personal favorite dream of all time, I spent most of the dream trying to escape an alien, the blob, and the anti-blob (think tapioca pudding with an attitude).  The twist is that every time I was trapped with no way out, about to be eaten by one of the monsters, it would be time for a commercial.  Always the same commercial: Juan Valdez and his donkey, talking about real Columbian coffee beans.  When the commercial ends, suddenly there is a way to escape, only to be chased by one of the other monsters.  Interpret that!

Another favorite starred a parrot who clung to that spot on my back that I can't reach, but every time I stopped trying to grab the thing it would try to bite my ears.  In an attempt to get rid of it, I climbed down into a sewer.  I'm not really sure why I thought that would help - I just ended up all mucky with a parrot on my back. 

And what the heck does it mean when you are multiple people in the same dream, kind of like Eddie Murphy in the Nutty Professor.  This happens to me all the time.  It's like my brain is trying to cut down on cast costs or something.

Stealing is Bad, Right?

I think most everyone would check TRUE on a multiple choice exam which offered the following statement, "Stealing is bad".  But.... Why?  And are there any extenuating circumstances where stealing might be the proper course of action?

Suppose you were being mugged at gunpoint when inexplicably a box of waffles falls from the sky, lands on the mugger's head, and knocks him out cold.  And, as he falls to the ground, his wallet flies out of his pocket and plops down by your feet.  Taking this wallet wouldn't be stealing, so much as poetic justice, right?  But suppose the mugger was wearing a ski-mask so you couldn't see his face, and this wallet actually belonged to his last victim.  Not so sure, now, are you?  Perhaps the best thing to do in this case is to take the wallet and turn it into the police.  Let them work it out.

Ok, how about this.  You are walking out of a supermarket, when a blind begger calls out to you.  He tells you that he really has to pee, but doesn't want to on the possibility of missing out on some cash, and asks you to wear his glasses while he goes to the bathroom.  You agree to do this and while he is away, someone comes out of the store and hands you a hundred dollar bill.  You could keep it, and he would never know.  It would be easy to rationalize this - I mean, technically you earned the money.  But you did promise to collect the money for him.  Maybe you could do a commission thing.  Exchange the hundred for a twenty already in the jar.  But are you really going to feel decent buying yourself dinner with the blind man's money?

Maybe you are the begger.  Starving.  And you happen upon a home with an apple tree in their front yard.  They probably wouldn't miss an apple or two.  But wouldn't it be better if you just asked for those apples.  Most people would gladly give them to you.  You could even offer to clean up the rotton apples in exchange.  "But wait" you say!  "What if I don't have any legs, and the wooden trolley that I scoot myself along on won't roll on their lawn, making it impossible to pick up rotton apples.  What then?"  Well, then you aren't going to be able to steal any apples anyway, so maybe you should just offer to sing them a song.  "But, what if I lost my tongue in an unfortunate frozen pole licking accident?  What then?  I can't sing, and I can't even ask for an apple.  If I try, the best I'd be able to do is say 'grerea ias haa alele?' What then?"

Write a freaking sign, ok?  Aarrgh!  I can't stand it when I get flippant with myself.

The Hereafter

Most people follow whatever faith their parents, grandparents, and their grandparent's parents have chosen.  This wasn't good enough for me, though.  I tend to overthink things - kind of like a modern day Hamlet.  The problem is that there are simply too many choices.  And the price for choosing wrongly can be pretty severe.  I mean, if you don't choose the right religeon, AND often the right sub-sect of said religeon, it's off to eternal suffering you go.

Fire and brimstone.  Darkness.  The cold void of nothingness.  Mosquitos THIS BIG.  All of the socks you've ever lost, reeking with foot odor.  And a demon who gives you wedgies and plays Seasons In The Sun on your elastic waistband.  Forever.

At first glance, it may seem that the best choice is to choose the religeon that will deny you entrance to Heaven if you don't believe in their faith, and has the worst possible Hell.  You still have a chance with the more tolerant religeons of receiving eternal salvation, and you've also cleared yourself of the worst possible fate.

But, ask yourself this.  Do you really want to go to a Heaven that is run by a God so anal as to refuse entrance to the best of people, simply because they held a different belief?  I mean, with any religeon, there is a fair chunk of the world's population that will have never even heard of it, and another chunk that may have heard the name, but nothing of it's teachings.  If that God refuses entrance to Heaven to these people, imagine what other rules there are once you get there.

I think going to a Heaven of this sort would kind of be like moving into a home with a very strict home-owner's association.  No playing your harp after 8pm, and Heaven forbid you should leave it unattended on your cloud.  That would mean a write-up for sure.  Everyone would have to wear the same style robes, and they would probably take three hours to iron.  Halos would have to be polished until they glowed with at least 1400 lumens.  I think that this Heaven would look nice, but it would really suck to live there for eternity.

Like Hamlet, I have thought and thought about this and have decided, for the time being at least, not to decide.  This may throw me into some purgatory someday, but I think that if I just try to be the best person that I can be, do good as I see it, it will at least make my life on Earth more enjoyable.  And if I do make it into some Heaven someday, it will be one that I will feel good living in.

Statistician Wannabe

I once thought of being a statistician for a while.  I've always held a special place in my heart for mathematics.  When you view the world in terms of numbers, it kind of gives you a different perspective on things.

For instance, have you ever considered the significance of the number of squares there are on a roll of toilet paper.  There's a lot of variation between brands.  I mean, you can have 176, 242, 250, 130, 165.... It goes on and on.  There are no standards, and literally no common denominators here.

Now, you combine this information with the number of squares used per.. application, and the number of applications used per sitting, and you come up with some interesting statistics.  Personally, I typically use four sheets at a time and have to wipe anywhere from six to nine times, but I'm pretty sure that my pooh is a little stickier than most peoples', and the average is probably more like 3-5 wipes.

Additionally, guys, if you have a woman in the household, you've got problems... as I'm sure you were already aware.  But you may not have considered the impact they have on your toilet paper consumption equations.  They're just plumbed different, and have more uses for toilet paper than you do, with each use requiring different amounts of paper.

One final factor in the TP dynamic is that occasionally, you get stuck on the toilet and have a runny nose.  Unless you're not concerned with blowing a hole through and getting snot all over your hand, you're going to have to use a bit more paper here than normal.

Some of you may be wondering - just where the heck am I going with all this?  

Allow me to explain.

Taking all of these toilet paper tid-bits into consideration, a family of four should only end up with an empty roll left on the hanger once every twelve to thirteen days.  If it's occurring any more frequently than this, one of two things is happening.

It may be that someone is saying to themselves, "There's not a whole lot of toilet paper left on the roll.  I think I want to finish up with one extra-cooshy wipe today."

On the other hand, they may be saying, "Crud.  The roll's empty.  I could waddle over to the cupboard under the sink, with my pants down around my ankles, and get another roll.  Or...  You know.... I probably got most of it off with that last wipe anyway.  I think I'll just say 'good enough', zip up, and be on my way."