Illustration: The Effects of Chloroform on the Human Body (1912) by Richard Tennant Cooper
Being young is great, but it's not sustainable.
Even if our government had the power to rename the Gulf of Mexico - what a waste of resources that would be. The expense and time-waste of reprinting maps, changing signs, retraining meteorologists to use the new name, etc.
A few years ago, I had a conversation with the plumber who was unclogging the toilet in our vacation rental. He said he used to work for a big hotel. They were using low-flow toilets, and they to deal with clogged toilets daily, at least a dozen per week. When the hotel weas refurbished, they replaced all the toilets. The new ones were also low-flow, but of a different design that flushed more efficiently. They went from a dozen clogs per week to less than 5 per month.
I've seen this effect in my house. When we had to replace a toilet, the one we bought had a promotional sign and video claiming it had the power to flush a bucket of golf balls. I happen to own a bucket of golf balls, and I don't plan to flush them. Even so, it is obvious that this one is powerful. The design matters more than the amount of water. I've seen high-volume toilets that could barely flush a single sheet of toilet paper, and new low-volume models that could do whatever was needed.
I used to be funnier, but the times have worn me down.
I will speak up in defense of paper maps. When we took our big trip around the country, we didn't use paper maps for navigation, but we used them to get the "big picture". We would spread out a map of a region or state (or the entire country) and say: We're going from here to there. What cities and points of interest are on the way? What are the potential side trips? Where will we want to stop for the night? Where are the rivers and mountain ranges? That's information you don't get from the GPS device in your car or phone.
Once upon a time, each U.S. president saw himself as serving or leading ALL citizens, not just small factions of extreme loyalists.
Showing posts with label random. Show all posts
Showing posts with label random. Show all posts
Shorts
One time I was shopping for a party dress, and they didn't have the one I liked in my size. So I decided to just try what they had, a size 12.
I got part way into the dress and found myself stuck. My head and arms were trapped. I couldn't get it on, and couldn't get it off. I had to call the saleslady to pull it off me.
I said, "Wow, I've never seen a size 12 that tight."
She looked at the tag and said, "It's a 2."
They aren't healthcare CEOs. They are insurance company CEOs. Their business isn't providing healthcare. Their business is restricting healthcare.
The problem with the never-satisfied, ultra-greedy oligarchs is that they don't just want a lot, they don't just want more, they want EVERYTHING. Anything you have, no matter how small, is something they don't have. They want it. This is why a man with $300 Billion will take away a grandmother's $1200 pension check. If she has it, it's not in his pocket, and he wants it.
I spend too much time trying to fine-tune the thermostat. There is no perfect temperature.
I entertain myself by looking up my symptoms online. Well, that's entertaining in the same way slasher-horror movies are entertaining, which is to say, it's alarming. I follow the links and make sure I'm looking at legitimate medical sites. Apparently, I'm doomed. The good news is, it's never as bad as a thorough web search indicates. Even when I had cancer, my case wasn't as bad as the stuff I found online. Being prepared for the absolute worst has the interesting effect of making me quite calm when I talk to the doctors (I know they can't tell me anything worse than what I'm already expecting. And when the diagnosis and treatment aren't quite that bad, I end up feeling almost cheerful.
Whenever I suggest moving out of a horrible state, people say, oh, but folks can't afford to move. If they're trying to kill you, you can't afford to stay.
Illustration: Mad Fashions, Od Fashions, All Out Fashions; or, The Emblem of These Distracted Times (1642)
I got part way into the dress and found myself stuck. My head and arms were trapped. I couldn't get it on, and couldn't get it off. I had to call the saleslady to pull it off me.
I said, "Wow, I've never seen a size 12 that tight."
She looked at the tag and said, "It's a 2."
They aren't healthcare CEOs. They are insurance company CEOs. Their business isn't providing healthcare. Their business is restricting healthcare.
The problem with the never-satisfied, ultra-greedy oligarchs is that they don't just want a lot, they don't just want more, they want EVERYTHING. Anything you have, no matter how small, is something they don't have. They want it. This is why a man with $300 Billion will take away a grandmother's $1200 pension check. If she has it, it's not in his pocket, and he wants it.
I spend too much time trying to fine-tune the thermostat. There is no perfect temperature.
I entertain myself by looking up my symptoms online. Well, that's entertaining in the same way slasher-horror movies are entertaining, which is to say, it's alarming. I follow the links and make sure I'm looking at legitimate medical sites. Apparently, I'm doomed. The good news is, it's never as bad as a thorough web search indicates. Even when I had cancer, my case wasn't as bad as the stuff I found online. Being prepared for the absolute worst has the interesting effect of making me quite calm when I talk to the doctors (I know they can't tell me anything worse than what I'm already expecting. And when the diagnosis and treatment aren't quite that bad, I end up feeling almost cheerful.
Whenever I suggest moving out of a horrible state, people say, oh, but folks can't afford to move. If they're trying to kill you, you can't afford to stay.
Illustration: Mad Fashions, Od Fashions, All Out Fashions; or, The Emblem of These Distracted Times (1642)
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