We have three dogs in our household. That’s at least one dog too many, but what can we do about that now?
I used to think that the line between dog lover and weird dog person was between three and four. If you had three dogs (or cats), you just liked dogs. But if you have four, it’s one of your defining characteristics.
Now, I’m not so sure we’re not thought of in the neighborhood as “the people with all the dogs.”
It didn’t start off like that. We didn’t get all of the dogs at once. It took years to accumulate this little menagerie.
The oldest dog, Poncho, pre-dates the children. He turned 13 this summer and he’s a little blind and a little deaf, but not completely either.
When my wife, Stacy, and I went to the pound in San Diego and found Poncho, we were actually looking for a bigger dog. Not Great Dane, but maybe border collie-sized. We were also looking for a female, though I’m not sure why it mattered, because either way the dog was getting fixed.
But there was this puppy, small and scruffy terrier in a pen with a sexually abusive cell-mate. He just had this “please get me out of here” look on his face. We were hooked.
Actually, I think we were hooked a few weeks later when Stacy and I came home to our apartment and Poncho did not come running out to welcome us as he normally did. We went searching and found him, obviously embarrassed, behind the bed in the spare bedroom.
He’d somehow managed to get his head and one front leg through the hole in a plastic grocery bag. Inside the bag was a smaller plastic produce bag and inside that was one plum. While trying to get the plum out, he’d gotten himself stuck in the bag. There was no way of telling how long he’d been like that, but we’d been gone four or five hours.
It was the kind of trouble I would get myself into if I were a dog. Thankfully, I have opposable thumbs.
Poncho, who topped out at about 18 pounds, has been with us through two children, multiple career changes and a couple of home purchases. When we bought the first house, it came with a big back yard. We figured that Poncho needed a playmate.
We went to the pound, this time in northern California, and spotted a pair of puppies, obviously brother and sister. We went to ask about the male and were told that they hadn’t been there long enough to get adopted, but we could come back Saturday morning. It was first-come, first-served and we were advised to get there early, as a lot of people had asked about the pair of corgi mixes. Doors open at 7 a.m.
It seemed like a lot of trouble to me, there’d be other puppies. But Stacy, who was not sure we needed another dog in the first place, was now obsessed with getting this dog. She got up at 4 o’clock in the morning and drove down to the animal shelter. When she got there, there were two cars already in the parking lot.
She called me on the cell phone, convinced that she was too late. But we decided that she would wait it out. When the sun came up, the sleepy people began to get out of their cars. The man that had been there first announced that he was there for one of the corgis and he wanted the female. Stacy was amazed to find that the second guy in line was there for a kitten.
Stacy came home with the dog the kids names Shaggy. Later we added to the name, it’s Shaggy the Love Sponge. This is the most passive and lovable dog you’d ever want to meet. If you pay any attention to him, he’s your friend for life.
He also likes to sleep in the bed with Stacy and I. But it’s like sleeping with a 25-pound bag of sand. More than once Stacy has had to wake me up and tell me to get the dog off her legs so she can roll over.
When we still lived in the house in California, Poncho and Shaggy had the run of the back yard. There was a dog door and they could get out whenever they wanted. The yard was bordered by an eight-foot fence. They went in the back and played and laid little doggy land mines. Occasionally, there would be a squirrel (and once an iguana) on the fence and they would bark. But, otherwise, we rarely heard anything from them.
When we moved to Ohio, we got a corner lot with a four-foot fence that the dogs can see through. It turns out they are barkers. And everyone in the neighborhood, who walks a dog or a baby stroller, passes right past our yard.
Next week, dog No. 3 enters the picture.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Monday, June 11, 2007
Writing a weekly blog, if you know what I mean
I've been thinking a lot about euphemisms lately. I'm generally pro-euphemism -- at least the clever ones.
But, when advertisers, public officials and the military start using them to hide the truth because they think whomever they're talking to is too stupid or isn't ready to handle the real words, they can be condescending, dishonest and dangerous.
The euphemism stuff started about a week ago when my wife, Stacy, and I were doing some work in the backyard around the deck. A couple of years ago, we planted some vines that were supposed to make their way up the side of the deck and onto the arbor that covers it. We had mistakenly thought that they would accomplish this pretty much on their own.
It turns out that, left to their own devices, these particular vines would rather grow horizontally than vertically. We inadvertently let the vines go on their own for too long this season and they spread out all over that section of the backyard, slowly overwhelming everything in their path.
One of those things was a wrought-iron flamingo planter that we'd purchased in the spring. The flamingo is about three feet tall and has a place in the middle of his back where you can place a flower pot. The vines, which had been small at the beginning of the season but had since been aided by some especially rainy weather, had almost completely covered the flightless bird.
So Stacy and I decided that it was a good time to free him before the vines got any thicker. As we were pulling him free we decided that "extricating the flamingo" was a good all-purpose euphemism.
This came on the heels of someone at work actually being observed cleaning the surface of a piece of fruit.
"Scott, what are you doing?"
"Polishing my nectarine."
Euphemisms are useful to people who want to talk about things they consider either uncomfortable (death) or taboo (sex). They think that if they say things like "passing away" or "sleeping together" they are somehow being more tactful.
Euphemisms can become fun when they aren't the least bit tactful. Passing away becomes "taking a dirt nap." Sleeping together becomes "doing the horizontal mambo."
I'll admit that almost any phrase can become a racy euphemism, especially if you follow it with "if you know what I mean."
"So, what did you and your girlfriend do last night?"
"We stayed home and polished the nectarine, if you know what I mean."
There's even a random euphemism generator on the Internet. The Web site will complete "The last time I saw him, he was ..." with a random verb-adjective-noun phrase.
You get potentially racy sentences like, "The last time I saw him, he was 'launching the eternal fire hydrant' or 'grasping the velvety ottoman.' "
It's entertaining for about two minutes. Then it's just silly. Euphemisms are more fun when they're naturally occurring. I might actually use "extricating the wrought-iron flamingo" one day because there's a story behind it.
I can't imagine saying "placating the holy phonebook." Even followed by "if you know what I mean," it doesn't make any sense.
My favorite euphemisms are group specific. David Letterman's Top 10 Lists are often group specific euphemisms.
His top 10 Keebler Elf euphemisms for death (for example -- creamy casket filling), Canadian euphemism for sex (pulling the goalie) or mob euphemisms for killing somebody (canceling his subscription to Life magazine) are usually hilarious.
Again, the Internet is full of these kinds of lists. Some of them are clever, some not so much. Two of my recent favorites are the cartoon character euphemism for death "catching the big anvil" and "chilling with Walt."
But you have to be on the lookout for euphemisms that are designed not to be funny, but to confuse, inflate or soften the meaning of something that should be straightforward.
A couple of years ago, car dealers began calling used cars "pre-owned vehicles." Did they really think this was going to work? We're not talking about a pair of jeans here. Someone who "pre-owns" a car for you is not doing you a favor by breaking it in for the first 50,000 miles.
Job titles are famous for trying to make somebody's career seem more important, or at least more dignified, than it is. Calling someone a "sanitation engineer" does not make him any less a garbage man.
I don't mean to denigrate garbage men. But calling me an emperor does not give me an empire any more than calling me a vertically challenged person of girth keeps me from being a short, fat guy.
Politicians can call a cardboard box a "makeshift home" and a committee a "task force" or a tax increase a "revenue enhancement," but if we're paying attention, we know what they're talking about.
The jargon pouring out of the Pentagon about Iraq right now is typical of the military. The people who once changed the name of their political leader from secretary of war to "secretary of defense" and changed the MX missile to the "peacekeeper," are masters at this kind of thing.
The war has "friendly fire" and "collateral damage." An early morning parachute drop is evidently called "a pre-dawn vertical insertion," if you know what I mean.
George Carlin points out that "shell shock" became "battle fatigue," which has become "post traumatic stress disorder," all in an attempt to soften the reality that war is hell.
The fact is you have to think about euphemisms all the time. Sometimes you think about them because they're fun, but most of the time because they intentionally make something unclear.
I'd like to write about this more, but I have to pick up the kids at camp (if you know what I mean.) No, I really have to pick up the kids at camp.
But, when advertisers, public officials and the military start using them to hide the truth because they think whomever they're talking to is too stupid or isn't ready to handle the real words, they can be condescending, dishonest and dangerous.
The euphemism stuff started about a week ago when my wife, Stacy, and I were doing some work in the backyard around the deck. A couple of years ago, we planted some vines that were supposed to make their way up the side of the deck and onto the arbor that covers it. We had mistakenly thought that they would accomplish this pretty much on their own.
It turns out that, left to their own devices, these particular vines would rather grow horizontally than vertically. We inadvertently let the vines go on their own for too long this season and they spread out all over that section of the backyard, slowly overwhelming everything in their path.
One of those things was a wrought-iron flamingo planter that we'd purchased in the spring. The flamingo is about three feet tall and has a place in the middle of his back where you can place a flower pot. The vines, which had been small at the beginning of the season but had since been aided by some especially rainy weather, had almost completely covered the flightless bird.
So Stacy and I decided that it was a good time to free him before the vines got any thicker. As we were pulling him free we decided that "extricating the flamingo" was a good all-purpose euphemism.
This came on the heels of someone at work actually being observed cleaning the surface of a piece of fruit.
"Scott, what are you doing?"
"Polishing my nectarine."
Euphemisms are useful to people who want to talk about things they consider either uncomfortable (death) or taboo (sex). They think that if they say things like "passing away" or "sleeping together" they are somehow being more tactful.
Euphemisms can become fun when they aren't the least bit tactful. Passing away becomes "taking a dirt nap." Sleeping together becomes "doing the horizontal mambo."
I'll admit that almost any phrase can become a racy euphemism, especially if you follow it with "if you know what I mean."
"So, what did you and your girlfriend do last night?"
"We stayed home and polished the nectarine, if you know what I mean."
There's even a random euphemism generator on the Internet. The Web site will complete "The last time I saw him, he was ..." with a random verb-adjective-noun phrase.
You get potentially racy sentences like, "The last time I saw him, he was 'launching the eternal fire hydrant' or 'grasping the velvety ottoman.' "
It's entertaining for about two minutes. Then it's just silly. Euphemisms are more fun when they're naturally occurring. I might actually use "extricating the wrought-iron flamingo" one day because there's a story behind it.
I can't imagine saying "placating the holy phonebook." Even followed by "if you know what I mean," it doesn't make any sense.
My favorite euphemisms are group specific. David Letterman's Top 10 Lists are often group specific euphemisms.
His top 10 Keebler Elf euphemisms for death (for example -- creamy casket filling), Canadian euphemism for sex (pulling the goalie) or mob euphemisms for killing somebody (canceling his subscription to Life magazine) are usually hilarious.
Again, the Internet is full of these kinds of lists. Some of them are clever, some not so much. Two of my recent favorites are the cartoon character euphemism for death "catching the big anvil" and "chilling with Walt."
But you have to be on the lookout for euphemisms that are designed not to be funny, but to confuse, inflate or soften the meaning of something that should be straightforward.
A couple of years ago, car dealers began calling used cars "pre-owned vehicles." Did they really think this was going to work? We're not talking about a pair of jeans here. Someone who "pre-owns" a car for you is not doing you a favor by breaking it in for the first 50,000 miles.
Job titles are famous for trying to make somebody's career seem more important, or at least more dignified, than it is. Calling someone a "sanitation engineer" does not make him any less a garbage man.
I don't mean to denigrate garbage men. But calling me an emperor does not give me an empire any more than calling me a vertically challenged person of girth keeps me from being a short, fat guy.
Politicians can call a cardboard box a "makeshift home" and a committee a "task force" or a tax increase a "revenue enhancement," but if we're paying attention, we know what they're talking about.
The jargon pouring out of the Pentagon about Iraq right now is typical of the military. The people who once changed the name of their political leader from secretary of war to "secretary of defense" and changed the MX missile to the "peacekeeper," are masters at this kind of thing.
The war has "friendly fire" and "collateral damage." An early morning parachute drop is evidently called "a pre-dawn vertical insertion," if you know what I mean.
George Carlin points out that "shell shock" became "battle fatigue," which has become "post traumatic stress disorder," all in an attempt to soften the reality that war is hell.
The fact is you have to think about euphemisms all the time. Sometimes you think about them because they're fun, but most of the time because they intentionally make something unclear.
I'd like to write about this more, but I have to pick up the kids at camp (if you know what I mean.) No, I really have to pick up the kids at camp.
Monday, June 4, 2007
TV poker is the last respite for the athletically decrepit
Have you ever wondered who on earth could be watching all this televised poker? The answer, of course, is me. (or is it I?)
Either way, there has been a poker explosion in this country. And, if you really want to, you can watch people play cards on TV most any time of day or night. The poker boom started on ESPN a couple of years ago when ratings for the World Series of Poker began to take off.
This is a series of tournaments played in Las Vegas where anyone with the entry fee can play. The series culminates with the main event which has a $10,000 buy in and thousands of people play Texas Hold `Em for a couple of million dollars.
The 2003 tournament was won by an amateur by the name (I’m not making this up) of Chris Moneymaker. He defeated a lot of professional players along the way and I think that’s what made it so interesting for so many people – the idea that an accountant from the Midwest could defeat the best players in the world and win a fortune.
When I was a kid I watched baseball games thinking that one day I could be a Major League player. Then I saw my first curve ball. Even in my 20s and early 30s, I could hit a 3-pointer and play in a decent pick-up game. But my days of taking it to the basket are behind me.
These days it’s golf. But poker I could still do. It just takes a little intellect and a little luck and anyone could win the biggest tournament in the world. “I could do that,” the middle-aged, overweight couch potato such as myself might think. You could spot me 20 strokes a day and I’d never win the Masters, but I could sit around a table and play cards for a week and maybe even win.
Unlike most sports, where the action is shown live on television, ESPN shows the World Series of Poker months after the actual competition has been completed. It condenses each of the smaller tournaments into an hour or two and boils down the main event, which might take three or four days to play, to half a dozen or so one-hour episodes. That’s roughly the equivalent of showing an entire baseball game in 20 minutes.
They’ve been playing the World Series of Poker for years, but the recent development was the installation of tiny cameras in the tables that can show what card the players are holding. That’s made it possible for the audience at home to get some idea of what’s going on. We can tell when a player’s bluffing or when he’s trying to trap his opponent into making a big bet.
ESPN also discovered that no matter how many time they show the same poker tournament, people seem to be watching it.
Fox Sports has jumped in with a series of made-for-television tournaments for professionals only. The pros are fun to watch too. It’s group of people that look like everything from suburban housewives to 120-pound Vietnamese grandfathers.
There’s the long-haired guy with the cowboy hat that everyone calls Jesus and the John McEnroe of poker who has been known to knock over his chair and curse at his opponent after losing a big hand. All these people need are trading cards.
The Travel Channel televises tournaments as well. The World Poker Tour goes from one glitzy venue to another showing many of the same players.
Then there was Bravo’s version, Celebrity Poker Showdown. Did you ever wonder what would happen if you put Alex Trebek, Travis Tritt, Rosie O’Donnell, Rickie Lake and Meat Loaf at the same poker table who would win? Me either, but I’ll watch to find out. I don’t feel good about it afterward, but I do watch.
I’m an easy mark. I’ll watch almost anything the sports channels show. Obviously, I prefer the big three, baseball, basketball and football, but, in a pinch, I’ll watch almost anything, including golf.
My mother used to say if there was a show with two guys bouncing a ball against a wall, I’d watch it. The exception to this rule is NASCAR. I just don’t get it. It’s like standing on an overpass and watching traffic.
I’ve played in a few semi-regular poker games in my life, but they’ve always been with guys that didn’t really know what they were doing. We had a good time and drank enough beer to float a small boat, but the poker was pretty bad.
The dealer would call the game and there were always a bunch of wild cards and goofy rules. We played games like Anaconda or Three-Card Low Ball, Draw One Twice. If the game is different every hand, you can’t learn anything about your opponents.
I did learn an important lesson once. One night I had something to do early in the evening so I showed up after the others had been playing (and drinking) for an hour or so already. And I was on a diet at the time that didn’t allow beer. So I sat and drank diet coke all night and left with most of the money. The others announced that I wouldn’t be allowed back in the game until I was drinking beer again.
I’m not sure you could get anyone to watch if they televised that.
Either way, there has been a poker explosion in this country. And, if you really want to, you can watch people play cards on TV most any time of day or night. The poker boom started on ESPN a couple of years ago when ratings for the World Series of Poker began to take off.
This is a series of tournaments played in Las Vegas where anyone with the entry fee can play. The series culminates with the main event which has a $10,000 buy in and thousands of people play Texas Hold `Em for a couple of million dollars.
The 2003 tournament was won by an amateur by the name (I’m not making this up) of Chris Moneymaker. He defeated a lot of professional players along the way and I think that’s what made it so interesting for so many people – the idea that an accountant from the Midwest could defeat the best players in the world and win a fortune.
When I was a kid I watched baseball games thinking that one day I could be a Major League player. Then I saw my first curve ball. Even in my 20s and early 30s, I could hit a 3-pointer and play in a decent pick-up game. But my days of taking it to the basket are behind me.
These days it’s golf. But poker I could still do. It just takes a little intellect and a little luck and anyone could win the biggest tournament in the world. “I could do that,” the middle-aged, overweight couch potato such as myself might think. You could spot me 20 strokes a day and I’d never win the Masters, but I could sit around a table and play cards for a week and maybe even win.
Unlike most sports, where the action is shown live on television, ESPN shows the World Series of Poker months after the actual competition has been completed. It condenses each of the smaller tournaments into an hour or two and boils down the main event, which might take three or four days to play, to half a dozen or so one-hour episodes. That’s roughly the equivalent of showing an entire baseball game in 20 minutes.
They’ve been playing the World Series of Poker for years, but the recent development was the installation of tiny cameras in the tables that can show what card the players are holding. That’s made it possible for the audience at home to get some idea of what’s going on. We can tell when a player’s bluffing or when he’s trying to trap his opponent into making a big bet.
ESPN also discovered that no matter how many time they show the same poker tournament, people seem to be watching it.
Fox Sports has jumped in with a series of made-for-television tournaments for professionals only. The pros are fun to watch too. It’s group of people that look like everything from suburban housewives to 120-pound Vietnamese grandfathers.
There’s the long-haired guy with the cowboy hat that everyone calls Jesus and the John McEnroe of poker who has been known to knock over his chair and curse at his opponent after losing a big hand. All these people need are trading cards.
The Travel Channel televises tournaments as well. The World Poker Tour goes from one glitzy venue to another showing many of the same players.
Then there was Bravo’s version, Celebrity Poker Showdown. Did you ever wonder what would happen if you put Alex Trebek, Travis Tritt, Rosie O’Donnell, Rickie Lake and Meat Loaf at the same poker table who would win? Me either, but I’ll watch to find out. I don’t feel good about it afterward, but I do watch.
I’m an easy mark. I’ll watch almost anything the sports channels show. Obviously, I prefer the big three, baseball, basketball and football, but, in a pinch, I’ll watch almost anything, including golf.
My mother used to say if there was a show with two guys bouncing a ball against a wall, I’d watch it. The exception to this rule is NASCAR. I just don’t get it. It’s like standing on an overpass and watching traffic.
I’ve played in a few semi-regular poker games in my life, but they’ve always been with guys that didn’t really know what they were doing. We had a good time and drank enough beer to float a small boat, but the poker was pretty bad.
The dealer would call the game and there were always a bunch of wild cards and goofy rules. We played games like Anaconda or Three-Card Low Ball, Draw One Twice. If the game is different every hand, you can’t learn anything about your opponents.
I did learn an important lesson once. One night I had something to do early in the evening so I showed up after the others had been playing (and drinking) for an hour or so already. And I was on a diet at the time that didn’t allow beer. So I sat and drank diet coke all night and left with most of the money. The others announced that I wouldn’t be allowed back in the game until I was drinking beer again.
I’m not sure you could get anyone to watch if they televised that.