PARAPROSDOKIAN

When I received an e-mail with this title my first reaction was to hit delete. As it came from my very political sister-in-law from Arizona I assumed it had to do with a politican in Greece who didn't like Obama either.


My second thought was that it was a dance video from You Tube. You know. Like "Hey! Let's All, Do The Paraprosdokian!"

"Great", I thought. "One more new dance I will never be able to perform but it will send my more agile and athletic wife into hysterics when I try."

I was pleasantly suprised to discover I was wrong on both counts - excluding the thing about my wife's expected reaction, of course. The e-mail I received was about humor.

If you doubt the Greeks have a sense of humor you have apparently forgotten the tale about Diogenes travelling the earth in searchof an honest man.

Or, Icarus forgetting to check the wax exclusion in his health coverage.

It turns out Paraprosdokian is a figure of speech and is used for humorous or dramatic effect.
The first part of the term translates to mean "beyond", the second part means "expectations."

I thought you might enjoy a few examples:

"She looks as though she's been poured into her clothes, and forgot to say ""when.' - P.G.Wodehouse.

"If I am reading this graph correctly --- I'd be very surprised" - Stephen Colbert.

"If all the girls who attended the Yale prom were laid end to end, I wouldn't be a bit surprised." --Dorothy Parker. (Perhaps Dot spent a little too much time at the Algonquin.)

Here are some more:

"Do not argue with an idiot. He will drag you down to his level and beat you with experience."

"I asked God for a bike, but I know God doesn't work that way. So I stole a bike and asked for forgiveness."

"The voices in my head may not be real, but they have some good ideas."

"I didn't say it was your fault, I said I was blaming you."

"Whenever I fill out an application, in the part that says 'If an emergency, notify:' I put DOCTOR."

"There's a fine line between cuddling and holding someone down so they can't get away."

"I thought I wanted a career, turns out I just wanted pay checks."

I discovered I scream the same way whether I'm about to be devoured by a great white shark or if a piece of seaweed touches my foot."

"Behind every successful man is his woman. Behind the fall of a successful man is usually another woman."

"To be sure of hitting the target, shoot first and call whatever you hit the target."

"To steal ideas from one person is plagiarism. To steal from many is research."

"The last thing I want to do is hurt you. But, it's still on the list."

See, the Greeks really do have a word for it.

ENJOY!

GO STEELERS!

THE "LIGHT" AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL

It is true that I have often maligned the various companies with which I deal for the absence of good customer service, easy to open product packaging, lack of clear intelligent instructions, etc..

The other day I discovered something refreshing.

It had to do with a product whose installation I oursourced. I used to install my own security lights. Since the last one required special wiring I called my favorite mobile home fixit guy - Bill Herkel.

Bill is a godsend for fixing or replacing the many things that can go wrong with your home. My wife Phyl and I were joking about putting a sign out front: "The Home That Bill Re-built." We then realized it was against the community signage policy to do so.

Bill didn't let us down this time either. The security light he purchased and installed was perfect for our needs. Even 2 lb Chihuahuas can use a little light when enjoying last call at the end of the evening.

Now, Phyl and I can go out back in safety- Bella can see her path clearly - and we can locate and pick up her droppings with ease. Everybody's happy, including the Armadillo that sometimes resides beneath our home and enjoys nightly forays into the development across the street via a hole she dug under our back fence.

We're a match made in heaven. I fill it up - and she digs it up again. (Please do not be so boorish as to inquire how I know the sex of the armadillo.)

Now that I've described the happiness of our family and extended family, due to the brillance of the halogen security light, I'll get back to the purpose of my story.

It started with old Mr. Fumbles. He did it again. The light burned out due to my insistance that it be set at a longer display setting.

Not to worry. "Mr. F'. climbed up his ladder to determine the type of bulb within the fixture and behind the protective glass. He ( I love the use of the third person in these situations) fussed, pulled, slid, and tapped until he found a hinge clip on the top of the glass.

Due to his excitement and amazement at his new technical prowess, he opened the hinge. This immediately released the protective glass. "Mr. F" watched with a mixture of surprise and fear as the glass dropped onto the ladder before continuing it's journey to the concrete floor of our tiny but comfy back porch

The largest piece of the now shattered protective glass stared back at 'Mr. F" - sharing his amazement.

"Mr. F" was not pleased with himself and about as equally charitable with the suggestion from 'Mrs. F" to use super glue.

He realized "Mrs. F" would probably be mailing out copies of his death certificate before that mission was accomplished.

But, not to fear . "Mr. Collector", another of your bloggers many diverse personalities immediately stepped up and solved the problem.

Mr. Collector, or "Mr. C". as we affectionately refer to him, has copies of every warranty and instruction booklet that ever came into his possession - including his Junior High graduation mortar board.

On a whim "C" called the manufacturer of the "Motion Sensing Halogen Fixture" to determine where he might locate a replacement glass. Please note, this was only after he read the warning in the booklet: "No service parts available for this product."

The company is called HealthCo, LLC and is located in Bowling Green Kentucky. The customer service rep. almost renewed my faith in corporate responsibility and appropriate C.S.

She answered the phone promptly, demonstrated a great affinity for proper usage of the English language, and did not appear to have to refer to a book of instructions in responding to my query.

However, she also advised me they did not sell parts for their halogen products.

Detecting a notable sigh of disappointment from me, she said she would be happy to replace the broken glass piece at no cost and appreciated having me as a customer. She also explained it was company policy.

I will admit my first reaction was that the company's management team was obviously from Berkeley and had opted for a liberal employee relations policy that included the use of hallucinogenic substance breaks.

I quickly regained my senses and thanked her for the generous and timely assistance.

Today, I did my part. Upon opening my mail I found my new protective glass wrapped in a double insulated envelope.

I called the Customer Service number and thanked them again.

It's just one more way to keep that light shining.

REDEMPTION

Apparently, through the years the word "redemption" has meant a lot of different things to a lot of different people.

I tend to associate it with the theological definition: deliverance from sin: salvation. However, there are other meanings listed that do not frighten me quite as much in my old age - as I'm less willing to give up my bad habits but, conversely, more apt to review my life and the error of my ways.

For example, Redemption is both a card game and a song according to Wikipedia. Actually, I prefer the 4th definition from this same source: atonement from guilt.

It clearly is a word that has been both used and abused. The Redemption movement was once a taxpayer conspiracy promoted by a guy known as Roger Elvick. It was also the establishment of a white democratic one-party rule in the South following Reconstruction.

So, who knows which definition to embrace?

Answer? I do.

To me it has to do with my fanatical desire to follow the Steelers and make the NFL prosperous via the purchase of so much Steeler clothing gear for me by my wife, my kids, and myself.

It means there is light at the end of the tunnel.

It also means I have been given both deliverance and rescue from my many years of faithfully following the Pittsburgh Pirates.

But, surely there is too much joy in our home at this date to dive into negative feelings.

Before going much further, I must confess to be ignorant of many of the intricacies of the game; a fact which does not necessarily place me in the minority of Steeler fans, I hasten to add.

I am both critical and forgiving.

Watching our much maligned defensive backs, who in past years were the only players besides the quarterback, the running backs, and the kickers whose numbers we remembered so easily, (Polamalu being a noted exception) was the critical Barry.

One reason for my remembering the numbers of so many of the Steeler defensive backs was due to their willingness to display those numbers as they were chasing some wide receiver, tight end or running back from the opposing team into the end zone; after being feinted out of position.

Yesterday during the AFC playoff game - there was true redemption when the actions of starting cornerback Ike Taylor in knocking the ball out of the hands of Jet's QB Sanchez and the scooping up of that same ball by replacement CB William Gay as he proceeded to wind himself toward and into the end-zone for a touchdown.

I believe I heard the announcer say both of these guys split the honors of "player of the game".

It was a well deserved honor -a clear demonstration of both "deliverance and rescue" - a form of Redemption I'm more than willing to embrace.

Go Steelers!

THINGS THAT MAKE YOU GO, "HUH?"

Poor Toyota! Now the NFL is after them too.

It seems the NFL has requested the auto company to edit a commercial about research into head injuries. Toyota has done so.

League spokesman Brian McCarthy complained the commercial "portrayed the sport of football in an unfair manner."

One assumes the next target for "Mac" will be the commercials marketing the video type/TV adaptable football games which also "portray the sport of football" similarly.

Can't wait for the NFL to issue an edict about the frequent use of instant replays by the various networks who each game are also displaying the helmet to helmet images for which Toyota was chastized.

Don't laugh - it could happen.

The NFL's interpretations of just about anything deemed to be NFL'ish are starting to resemble the confusion as to which colleges are chastized by the NCAA for their insensitivity.

Their offense? The use of anything deemed negative to our Native American population that could possibly be interpreted as such by anyone residing as far away as Outer Mongolia.

One wonders if both regulatory groups - making millions and millions from the exploitation of their admittedly violent sports- aren't going the way of Homeowner's Associations with their puzzling rulings and edicts.

Power will do that sometimes.
---------------------------------

In polls conducted by just about any organization able to persuade people to answer their phones and respond, one subject has produced an overwhelming reaction.

And no, it isn't the one about the display of poor taste attributed to Lady Gaga for wearing her meat ensemble, something decried by almost everyone with the exception of the folks over at Chic Filet.

The question raised is about partisan politics. It relates to a causal relationship between the opposing philosophies of our two "leading" political parties and the negative effect it is having on a positive resolution of the many problems facing this country.

Folks throughout this land have responded loud and clear that they would be willing to give up eveything, except possibly their Starbucks Carmel Latte, if our politicans would just get together and put the best interests of this country first.

That is, as opposed to exploring their own grubby, selfish, and current indefensible positions.

Trust me. America is making substantial progress on one "black/white" problem, but have substituted another more divisive one in our current political discourse.

The interpretation of the poll results under discussion appear to be positive as demonstrated by the amount of compromise legislation passed since the mid-term election during the lame duck period. That's good in my opinion.

I'm old enough to remember that the ability to get both parties to work together will probably be the most important part of Ronald Reagan's legacy.

Despite this "current mandate" from the people and the encouraging results, we still have idiots around like House Budget Chairman Paul Ryan, whose logic tests the wisdom of "any reasonable and prudent person".

Incidentally, the latter phrase is a cornerstone of the interpretation of laws as expressed and associated with various sources of rational jurisprudence in this land.

Somehow that principle has eluded our old pal, Ryan.

The Republican House Representative from Minnesota is quoted thusly: "This is a different kind of time in our country than when Reagen came in."

He continues:

"This is a time when, I think, instead of muddling the different philosophies between the two parties we need to accentuate them, to give the country a real clear choice . . . to give the country an alternative choice to the path we're on."

"Ah, Paul? You see, the country has already made that clear choice!"

Could this be yet another timely argument in favor of involuntary counselling of obviously disturbed individuals?

"Huh?"

THE TECHNOPHOBE (re-edited)

My cow died!

My Gateway desktop tower computer, Clara, she of the famous bovine design, decided to kick the bucket. Located in my new office in the front of the house she recently refused to accept the router signal from my wife's office in the back.

We had technical support guys out twice at $100 per hour. They had many possible causes they were happy to relate but, unfortunately no solutions.

Before I was done seeking answers I bought a one Terabyte back up hard drive to transfer music and documents from Clara the Cow. I had previously purchased a 8 GB USB 2.0 flash drive and a High Performance Wireless-N USB adapter. My purchases were expensive but I was on a mission. I desperately missed having the use of my pal Clara.

Among my rehabilitative attempts I also mistakedly had my land phone carrier install a useless dedicated line to turn Clara into a dial up computer. When another Techie came out and explained the error of my logic, Brighthouse, our carrier, graciously agreed to reverse the charges.

To be honest, I recognized early on that this aging technophobe never should have been allowed near a Computer nor be permitted to work with anything more complicated than Lincoln Logs.

The first hint was when old Mr. Fumbles here attempted to open the packaging containing my new computer accessory purchases.

You probably have already guessed the source of some of my computer problems.

I had a dream while all this was going on and there was no resemblance to the one MLK had. Mine contained absolutely no hope.

In the dream I was forced to agree to become a "Registered Technophobe". This was due to the petitioning of the court by both PITA and my neighbors. They complained about my open windows as well as the language I had used in dealing with Clara as the life slowly drained from her. Technically the charge was "The abuse of a lovable but aging inanimate object." My wife Phyllis was among the first to sign the petitions.

The dream scared me so much I went out and bought a book entitled "The Power Of Patience." The damn thing is taking me forever to finish.
.
It actually took me a half hour before I gave up on opening the wireless adapter box! It had a protective fold-in design that I swear would have baffled Houdini. Reluctantly, I went to Phyl and begged for her assistance.
;
Phyl can see inanimate objects like the adapter box in 4 or 5, maybe even 6th dimension. I have yet to reach the standard deviation point of 3.

She did cheat somewhat and went online. She researched "computer accessory packaging" on the web. Who would know?

Unfortunately, Phyl promptly broke two nails during "our" successful collaborative effort. That cost me another eighty- five bucks.

The Flash disc package was one of those that had the welded plastic bubble protecting the visible Flash Drive. You knew it was in there because you could see it. You also realized you had a better chance of getting close to Angelina Jolie.

My new Flash Drive was unapproachable using either a frontal or rear approach. It refused to release the plastic encased drive.

Fortunately, I located an old Swiss army knife from my back-up sock drawer. I soon decapitated the bubble, thus freeing up the 8 gigabyte flashdrive to do it's thing.

None of the three packages contained decipherable instructions.

Despite all of my efforts, Clara the Cow would not accept the advances of the router.

Lacking neither the patience nor the attention span of a two year old, I headed once again to the computer store.

I explained my situation to one of the friendly and very patient computer Techies, stating "I wanted to replace my tower". Being quite frugal, I told him I had no need for a new keyboard, mouse, monitor, etc.

He responded that, by a strange coincidence, someone had recently returned just such a tower. and offered it to me at a $200 discount. He assured me it had been all checked out.

This must be Kismet, I thought, but, I should have been thinking of "Fiddler On The Roof", as it turned out.

I rushed out of the store with my purchase, looking left and right to be sure no one could block my passage nor steal my new bargain priced tower.

When I arrived home, I opened the repackaged computer box. I then discovered it not only lacked an insertable technical CD, but written instructions for assembly,as well. The power plug was also missing.

I went back to my computer store, bought a new plug and installed the bargain tower using my Gateway connections as a template.

I then placed my new purchase on top of my desk, as opposed to the cubby hole reserved for, and still occupied by the Gateway. I installed my old router antennae that came with the router as well as my new router search device-and ignored the wimpering noise coming from Clara.

Miraculously, it worked. I was ecstatic!

I immediately began the process of copying my music and documents from the Cow to the HP via the external Terabyte External Hard Drive. After a long and impatient wait I eagerly began the start-up procedures longing to hear "my music."

"It's gone!", I screamed - much to the chagrin of my neighbors, two blocks down the street.

Instead of "my music", I had inherited over a hundred stored music CD's containing music from a different culture than that romanticized by either Frank Sinatra or Nat King Cole,(forgetting the latter did an excellent rendition of Haji Baba).

Much of he music included the performance of Hebrew folk tunes, according to the labels. I was also now the proud owner of an extensive inherited DVD movie collection containing subtitles in a language with which I had little or no familiarity.

I do admit to being captivated by an extensive Picture's collection of two or more apparently very happy Mid-Eastern families at Siesta Key beach as well as other places of local interest.

There was clearly just too much unusual recorded material in the computer for this Irish lad (a/k/a Registered Technophobe) to either enjoy or successfully erase.

I hastily headed back to the store with my bargain used tower - returned it - and after much give and take was convinced my best alternative was to purchase a laptop. I did so for an amount double that of my used tower.

The store manager opened a new checkout line and named it after me.

My new laptop starts up instantly. It has a mouse pad and a smaller keyboard with a different layout than the Gateway. My large arthritic fingers constantly hit the caps lock button each time I attempt to begin a new sentence - doubling the time required to write my much in demand blogs.

Rest assured I have vowed to master these minor difficulties. My book on Patience has a permanent resting place in the main bathroom; or the B.R., as my mother liked to refer to it.

Admittedly my persistance is partially based on Irish stubborness - as well as my new found patience, of course.

It also could possibly be partially due to the fact my wife has impounded my computer store charge card, my ATM cards, the rest of my credit cards and my checkbook. She then thoughtfully encrypted our on-line banking accounts.

One of the producers of the succesful flick about Facebook somehow heard my story, which is all the rage down at Geckos. They are now negotiating with my wife for the movie rights.

In 2013, be on the lookout for the release date of "The Technophobe."

COMMUNICATIONS & RESOLUTIONS

On my way back home from explaining the dangers of global warming to a group of Florida farmers, I started thinking about communications. Obviously, I had said something to disturb them. The guy with the pitchfork just missed me.

Communication is so important but, so abused in my estimation.

Take one of my favorite examples: "A person of knowledge of the situation stated that in a recent meeting the White House obtained indisputable information as to the date, time, and place of Armageddon. The person spoke to the AP on condition of anonymity because the meeting was to remain confidential."

C'mon now. That's communication?

It's sure not resolution.

Speaking of which: This is about the time most of us have usually broken our well intentioned New Years resolutions. We're back on the couch and the new treadmill is now the resting place for our fancy schmancy new workout clothes; in plain sight of the potato chips & dip.

C'mon man - it's the playoffs!

Don't sweat it (pun intended). Let's face it. Most of the guys you know - at least the ones you like to drink with - are doing the same thing.

I made my resolutions for years. But, I made the mistake of telling folks what those resolutions were. Bad idea!

People couldn't wait to tell my significant other or the kids when they caught me smoking, sneaking into Baskin-Robbins or doing anything in contradiction to my expressed good intentions - that I, unfortunately, had shared way too often.

At first, I stopped telling anyone about my resolutions. That still didn't make me any better at keeping them.

So, I gave up and concluded I was just about as perfect as I was ever going to be

But, I had become used to that whole end of year resolution stuff.

After much cogitation and head scratching I decided my new approach for the New Year was to make "reverse" resolutions.

Let me explain how this works. Instead of making New Years "prospective" resolutions for improvement in the New Year, I do the whole thing in reverse.

In some ways it's almost as difficult as making new resolutions. Don't scoff. Dreams die hard.

Take 2011. This year I finally conceded that I just was never going to play in the NBA. That was my New Year's resolution and I'm resolved to stick to it.

"So, Doc/Phyl/ whomever - don't even think of coming a calling."

I found Some New Year's "reverse" resolutions are tougher to keep than others.

Last year I gave up on Sophia Loren and me running off to the Greek Islands together. That one was a crusher! But, I resolved to accept it anyway. Hey, that's just the kind of guy I am.

In 2004 I gave up all hopes that Michael Anthony would come to the house and announce that I was the latest millionaire selected by J. Beresford Tipton. When the bell rings I haven't run to the door in over 7 years - or even walked rapidly, I might add.

Two years ago I took down my Charles Atlas poster from inside my closet door . That year I resolved to also gave up my dreams that the next time I saw that bully again on the beach I'd demonstrate to him what that whole "dynamic tension" thing had done for my body, by beating
the "bejeesus" out of him. Kick sand in my face, huh buddy?

That was a biggie also. I visualized it every night before going to sleep. I'm ashamed to admit I occasionally even included it in my prayers.

That also was the year I vowed to stop going to that particular beach.

One year I gave up my hopes that upon my demise I'd stand in front of St. Peter at the Pearly gates and he would look at me and say, "Relax, Bar. What say we go two out of three?"

In 1998, I resolved to accept the reality that Cary Grant would never look back at me from the bathroom mirror as I started to shave. No matter how many times a day I would shave each day - it just wasn't happening.

But, that's all in the past. Next year, I'm thinking of going all the way and give up on owning that beachhouse at St. Croix.

I know I can do it if I put my mind to it

You might even say, " I'm resolved to do it".