Don't Be Happy...Worry

According to Marta Zaraska, of the Washington Post, in an article as printed in the St. Paul Pioneer Press, "Studies show that there is a darker side to feeling good and that the pursuit of happiness can sometimes make you...well, less happy. Too much cheerfulness can make you gullible, selfish, less successful....Research indicates that very high levels of positive feelings predict risk-taking behaviors, excess alcohol and drug consumption, binge eating, and may lead us to neglect threats."


In other words, happiness is bad for your health.

I want to know who did this research and who was paying them? And why can't they just leave well-enough alone?


What's next? Broccoli causes cancer? Exercise leads to weight gain? Sleeping induces insomnia?

A Dance Team, By Any Other Name

Saturday, April 7, 2012's StarTribune ran an article by Kim McGuire with the headline, "Name Change Stirs Up a Nest of Hornettes." The first two paragraphs will give you the gist of the piece:

When Edina High School administrators changed the dance team's name from the Hornettes to just plain Hornets - the school's sports nickname - they thought it would instill a sense of unity among students who spend autumn Friday nights cheering for their favorite football team.

But the move has stung hundreds of community members who think the school is kicking a 53-year-old tradition to the curb for no good reason.

The article goes on to talk about petitions and hearings and threats of gathering some feathers and warming up some tar.

Two things:

One...yes, I noticed the phrase "the move has stung hundreds" in a story about the Hornets. Cute.

Two...I would think the dance team would be glad to change their name away from something that makes them sound like a group of sexually-excited little people.

Observed Absurdities™ 5 - Duck!

When last we met (http://almostthetruth.blogspot.com/2012/04/duck-duck-what.html), the subject at hand was a duck threesome I had seen on a stroll through the neighborhood. Included in that post was a short discussion of how everyone in the world refers to a particular game as "Duck, Duck, Goose," while native Minnesotans almost exclusively insist the game is "Duck, Duck, Grey Duck".

Two observations that are equally absurd:

ONE:
All the comments on that post related to the game name controversy, even though that wasn't really the emphasis intended.

TWO:
The Minnesotan bent toward defending and exalting all things Minnesotan comes into stark contrast with normal social behavior. When talking about the whole is-it-goose-or-grey-duck discussion, Minnesotans will insist they are right and the rest of the known universe is wrong. It's almost always "Goose?!!? That's wrong! It's Grey Duck! Don't you know anything?"

Notice...it's not "Hmm, that's interesting," or even, "Wow, that's weird," but an adamant "That's wrong!"

Not that I'm judging or anything...

Duck, Duck, What?

Having been neither born nor raised in Minnesota, I grew up calling the game wherein people sit in a circle, one person stands, walks around the outside of the circle, tapping each person saying, "Duck" until they decide to say "Goose," and the person tapped in synchronization with the saying of "Goose" stands and chases the first person around the circle, hoping to tag the Gooser before they reach the spot just vacated by the Goosee "Duck, Duck, Goose."


[Wait a sec...let me catch my breath.]

I even have empirical evidence that the proper name for that game is "Duck, Duck, Goose" because that was the correct answer to a question posed by Regis Philbin on Who Wants to be a Millionaire? several years ago.


None of this matters to native Minnesotans, who insist that the rest of the country...nay...the rest of the world is wrong and needs to fall in line with the aberration to nature that is "Duck, Duck, Gray Duck."


Now...I told you all of that so I could tell you this...


I was walking through the neighborhood earlier this evening, and up ahead I could see some activity in someone's front yard. It looked like a small dog had found something particularly odorous in which to wallow and was thoroughly enjoying flopping around in it. I thought, "Ah! He looks like he's having a really good time!"


As I got closer, I could see a small green head and a periodically-flailing wing and realized that it wasn't a dog, but a duck. I thought, "Oh! Is it hurt? Did a dog get hold of it?"


A few more steps, and I realized that it was actually two ducks behaving in a decidedly twitterpated manner, with no regard for the public nature of their display of affection. I thought, "Eww! Get a room!"


Closer still, and it became clear that the commotion was actually three ducks: two colorful drakes and one plain hen.


It was at that moment that my mind realized the true meaning of Duck, Duck, Grey Duck.

A Palm Sunday Question

Who is Anna, and what did she do to deserve being hosed?

Call Me Fickle

I pulled up to a traffic light this morning and while waiting to be given the green arrow to turn left, I noticed that I was behind a car with "Vietnam Vet" license plates.

My mind started thinking about how so many of the veterans of the Vietnam "Conflict" came home to a nation divided in its attitudes about the war and those who fought in it. It made me want to put my car in park, rush up to the driver, and just thank him for serving his country.


At just that moment, we were given the green-for-go, so my imaginary expression of gratitude was cut short and I prepared to switch my foot from the brake to the accelerator. The problem with that, though, was that the honorable veteran's car was not moving. I don't know if his thoughts were distracted or he was reading a text or the effects of Agent Orange had finally caught up with him, but he was not heeding the traffic signal's clear insistence that it was time to turn left and get on with the morning commute.


Because the guy risked his life for my sake, I gave him an extra second or two.


Okay...that was enough...I lightly tapped my horn: a friendly little "toot-toot"...all the while hoping he wouldn't have a Mekong Delta flashback and go all Apocalypse Now on my sorry, little Kia.


The arrow turned yellow, the vet lurched through at the last possible moment, and I was stuck sitting through another cycle of light changes.


It's amazing how quickly a feeling of warmth and thankfulness can turn to "I'm glad they have special Vietnam Vet license plates available. I like being warned about things like that."

Oz Police Line-Up

Every week at Big Brother, Inc., I instigate a collaborative effort on our communal whiteboard. Some weeks, it's a story written by adding three words at a time (which generally results in absolute proof that the engineers at BBI desperately need my services as a technical writer - yay! Job security!). Most often, it's a picture/cartoon of some sort that I begin with a few shapes or random marks...and that gets added to through the week until it takes on an identity of its own.

Last week's work was a winner:

If the image isn't clear enough for you to see what's going on here, let me summarize.

What began as a circle and an oval, ended up being an homage/satire of The Wizard of Oz featuring the famous foursome in a police line-up, each charged with a variety of offenses:

Dorothy - Illegal immigration, theft, manslaughter, sedition, and invasion of private property

Lion - Draft-dodger, tax evasion, bail-jumper

Scarecrow - Arsonist, voter fraud

Tinman - Cold-hearted

Wizard - Impostery, investment fraud

And Toto, too - Littering

In the bottom left, we see the back of a police officer's head as he says, "Number One, step forward and say, 'I'm not a witch at all'."

With co-workers like this, who needs the funny papers?