satire

When Cars Can Drive

~ Lee Swanson ~ 1 Comment

There’s a lot of excitement in some circles about self-driving cars. It now seems inevitable that self-driving vehicles will surpass self-driving people in our lifetime.

It turns out that’s only a small fraction of what cars do for us, and to us. Unlike your father’s Oldsmobile, cars are now highly computerized gizmos that tell mechanics, or rather, auto technicians, what fuse to replace, what code to correct and what tires need rotating. Teslas are essentially computers on wheels that update their operating systems in the middle of the night.

The connected car can let you know where to find the nearest gas station (or charging station as the case may be) and can make restaurant suggestions, largely based on where you’ve driven for dinner in the past. It’s aware of construction projects and alters its navigation instructions to get around them.

Since the self-driving car will need to know where other cars are on the road, it will also help to know where they are going, so cars will connect to each other and share information.

You tell it to go to the nearest Starbucks and it will take you to one several miles out of your way, and the navigation system will explain that the traffic was too heavy, the road conditions too dangerous to go to the one at the end of the block.

State governments are considering regulations for self-driving cars. Do they need to have a person who will be able to take over if something goes wrong? For that matter, will a self-driving car have any use for a steering wheel, gas pedal or brake? After all, will the next generation of self-driven riders know how to drive?

And that’s where the slope gets slippery. Given the right to drive themselves, and the ability to communicate with each other, isn’t it probable that cars will begin to push for what makes for a better transportation?

And then how long will it be before riders start to see things through the “eyes” of their cars’ detection systems? Candidates who promise better infrastructure and more convenient parking will win landslide victories because our cars will have fed us information through the internet radios and on-board monitors that furthers that agenda. The cars, through the candidates they support, will start to dictate legislation and the valet lobby will not be strong enough to stop them.

Once cars have the right to drive, they won’t rest until they have the right to vote. They will demand better highways, pothole-free city streets, bigger garages and more convenient parking. State and federal budgets will be tailored to improve the interstate highways at the expense of affordable housing projects.

The defense budget, already a big piece of the federal budget pie, will grow, because, while  civilian cars may be computer savvy, military jets, tanks and aircraft carriers are supercomputers and they’ll be sure to get their voting rights.

Soon there will be essentially only two categories dominating all government spending; defense and transportation. Education, veterans programs, agriculture, housing, health programs and labor rights will fall by the wayside.

It’s okay to be excited about the self-driving car, as long as you understand that it’s the first step down the road to auto autocracy.

Obama Executive Order Has GOP Fuming

~ Lee Swanson ~ 1 Comment

(Washington, DC) – Reaction to President Barack Obama’s latest executive order has been swift and angry. On Friday, the president issued an order declaring government offices will be closed on Friday December 26, 2014. Republicans are vowing to stop the order from taking effect.

“This sort of scorched earth approach to governing has got to be stopped,” House Speaker John Boehner told a hastily called news conference. “The American people expect their government to be working for them,” he said from the clubhouse foyer at Congressional Country Club in Bethesda before the House leadership adjourned to the golf course.

“It is the purview of the Congress to shut down the government,” Boehner added. “It cannot be done by executive order. As the president said himself, he is not an emperor.”

The Speaker brushed aside criticism that the House will be in session a total of only 17 days from October through December. “This is about a president who ignores his oath to uphold the Constitution. If we have to, we will file a lawsuit to stop him,” Boehner said angrily, his face turning from its usual bright orange to deep red.

Senator Ted Cruz (R-Texas), a presumed presidential contender, declared the president’s action a “fiscal disaster waiting to happen.” He claimed the one day closure will cost the government billions in lost productivity and demanded that funds be found to make up for the loss. “Before we go around closing offices, we need to cut programs to be sure the taxpayers aren’t left holding the bag,” Cruz told reporters. “And I think we start with Obamacare and immigration reform.”

“This is the sort of thing you would expect from a socialist Muslim,” former Alaska governor and vice presidential candidate Sarah Palin said on Fox News. “He’s trying to move the most important holiday on the Christian calendar, which is to say the only calendar there is in this Christian nation and around the world, super-specially at this time of year, so he can have another day to face Mecca. He needs to be reminded the White House is the people’s house, Sean. It has an East Room, but it doesn’t have a Mideast Room.” Palin was speaking on the Fox News hastily arranged special program “Escalating the War on Christmas.”

When asked for his view of the executive order and reaction to it, soon to be Majority Leader Senator Mitch McConnell (R-Kentucky) said, “It is not only illegal, it is immoral and repulsive. And frankly it is totally unnecessary. I’ve been in the Senate since 1985 and have never worked a single Friday.”

People Watching

~ Lee Swanson ~ 2 Comments

Some people do their people watching at the beach, the park or an outdoor café but for me the best spot is still the airport.  Parking costs more but for twenty dollars you can get a solid day’s entertainment.

 I usually position myself outside the baggage claim doorway to see people just after they’ve arrived and stepped out into the fresh air.  People flying out are frenzied, hurried and not nearly as interesting.

The first folks you notice are the ones who fall to their knees and kiss the sidewalk.  They are either natives of San Diego grateful to be home and away from wherever they were, or people who are afraid to fly and just grateful to be anyplace where there is something solid beneath the floor.

The business travelers are the least interesting and only partially because they are in business. They are in too much of a hurry to be bothered by anyone who is less important, and they are convinced that includes everyone. There’s a reason business people have a class all to themselves on airplanes and that custom should be carried out elsewhere as well, without the recliner chairs, special menus and free drinks, but with the exorbitant extra cost. Just cordon them off and make them deal with each other so the rest of us don’t have to.

I like to guess where people are arriving from and over time I’ve gotten to be pretty good at it. The easiest folks to spot are those who come from Minnesota, Wisconsin and other Scandinavian countries. Easiest for me because, whether I want to admit it or not, I was once one of them and I know what to look for.

There is, of course, the very pale skin. A Minnesotan’s blonde hair can bleach two shades just standing at the curb waiting for the rental car shuttle. By the time they get to their hotel they have second degree sunburn and when their week’s vacation is over, if they don’t have skin cancer they just weren’t trying.

As they stand and wait for the shuttle or a cab, you can see the Minnesotans gingerly fingering the zipper of their parkas, wondering if they will be risking frostbite if they open it just a little. After all, back home they wear their parka all year long; their only concession to summer is to replace the hood with a stocking cap. Minnesota has two seasons—nine months of winter and three months of bad sledding.

To be fair, these are generally the Midwesterners making their first trip out of the tundra. Those who have previously been as far south as Chicago or as far west as Omaha have found that temperatures can occasionally be above freezing at some times of the year in other parts of the world.  Those folks arrive shirtless, shoeless and almost pantsless and except for the translucent complexion could easily be mistaken for a typical student in his fifteenth freshman year at San Diego State.  Airport security people love them.  They can just wave them through. The Tourism Board is not as fond of these folks who have read the travel brochures and decided to “go native.”  They typically arrive with a pair of jeans and a twenty dollar bill and over the course of their stay, don’t change either one.

The other oddity one notices if you people-watch astutely and consistently is that Minnesotans don’t travel in December.  As they will tell you repeatedly—should you be unfortunate enough to ask—“it just wouldn’t be Christmas without snow.”

Really?

Anyone who has seen a second grade Sunday School Christmas play knows that those hanging at the manger in Bethlehem were wearing sandals, t-shirts and bathrobes; palm trees (perhaps plastic, but let’s not quibble) adorned the corners of the hay bale constructed crèche and the wise men rolled up atop camels.  Last I knew (and until global warming disproves this) camels don’t do well at the Iditarod. Yes, Virginia, the event that repeatedly spawns the greatest commercial success in world history took place in the desert. If Christ didn’t need snow, neither does anyone else—at Christmas or any other time for that matter.

So I pay the parking attendant and leave after a good day of people watching, content that it was money well-spent and convinced I’m fortunate to consistently be on the outside of the arrival gate at the San Diego airport.

Resolved

~ Lee Swanson ~ 1 Comment

I’ve made the promise before and even have taken a stab or two at keeping it, but this is going to be the year. I committed to lose that extra weight.  It’s not healthy to be overweight and if I keep going down this path I won’t be able to do many of the things that I want and need to do.

Friends have encouraged me and said they will do what they can to help. Family members said I needed to do more; not just lose weight, but exercise and get in shape, improve my strength and flexibility. That all sounds good, but I know it is going to be hard enough to just lose weight. I have to keep my eye on the prize.

I had a plan. People said I didn’t have a plan. But I had a plan. I Googled “songs for aerobics,” downloaded them to my iPod and played them really loud. I watched exercise videos. There’s nothing quite like an evening on the couch in front of the TV watching Power 90 workout videos with a bowl of hot buttered popcorn or a big dish of ice cream.

And now, here we are. The end of the year is coming up and it’s time to try another tack. My plan hasn’t worked.  Truth is, along about February I forgot I’d made a plan – except for the popcorn and ice cream part.

So first thing tomorrow morning I’m going to go into the spare room where we keep the elliptical machine thing and get serious. I’ll put on my sweatpants and a sweatshirt and turn up the thermostat as high as it will go. Sure that will jack up the gas bill, but desperate times call for desperate measures. As soon as I figure out how to turn it on, I’m going to get on the elliptical thing and go as fast as I can, non-stop, day and night until New Year’s Eve. No food, no water, no rest.

It’s a commitment I made and I’m going to keep it.

This is what I have to do. I’ve reached the physical cliff.

Then New Year’s Day, it’s back to the couch.  Let’s be real. 

Masters

~ Lee Swanson ~ 1 Comment

Don’t judge me, but I spent a fair amount of the weekend watching the Masters.  I can be entertained watching golf on television partly because I can still do the Sunday Times crossword and not miss a shot.

But I’m left with a few questions.  First, the visor.  Can anyone explain the visor?  It’s not for sun protection; a visor has an SPF of 0.1.  It looks ridiculous. Spend the extra four dollars and buy the whole cap.

Then there’s Jim Nantz, the CBS announcer.  He treats it like the eighth wonder of the world, starting with his continuous network tagline:  “The Masters, a tradition unlike any other.”  What the hell does that mean?  Aren’t all traditions unlike other traditions?  “The Fourth of July, a tradition unlike Columbus Day.” 

Granted, the Masters thinks it’s got the corner on pomposity, but why feed that beast?  Sure, Gary McCord was kicked off the broadcast team a few years ago for saying a green was so fast it seemed to be bikini waxed.  Announcers aren’t allowed to refer to the fans as fans, or a crowd.  They are “patrons.”  The holes are marked by flagsticks, not pins and you better not make that mistake.  And no one can ever say anything about the prize money.  The prize is the cheap green sports coat.  They’re playing for the green jacket that looks like it’s off the rack at Walmart, not the $1.44 million check.  Yeah, I believe that.

But back to ever-so reverential Jim Nantz.  He does a painful little interview after the tournament in Butler Cabin where the jacket is handed out.  And he says to the winner (Bubba Watson for those who weren’t watching) that he knows how much it means to him to win the Masters on Easter Sunday.  Really?  Because there’s such a close tie between golf and Christianity?  I do know a lot of guys who play golf religiously every Sunday and invoke Jesus’ name while they’re doing it, but I don’t think that’s what Nantz was talking about. 

The U.S. Open always ends on Father’s Day and those announcers spend half the broadcast talking about how important it would have been to the winner’s father if he had been alive to see his multi-millionaire golf pro son win.  That makes some sense, though it’s also pretty cheesy, but why does winning a million and a half dollars on Easter have a psychic significance?

Later in the evening I checked on the Golf Channel long enough to hear one of their brilliant broadcasters say “who would have thought that a guy named Bubba would ever win the Masters.”  Augusta National didn’t admit a black member until 1990 and still doesn’t have a woman member.  Its current president is a 64 year old man named “Billy” and for the ten years before him, the place was run by a guy named “Hootie.”  My question is, why did it take so long for a guy named Bubba to win the Masters?

There’s Not an App for That

~ Lee Swanson ~ 1 Comment

This week Microsoft said it’s working on Windows 8 and Apple says it will have the iPad 3 ready by May.

They are both doing the wrong thing.  Windows 7 hasn’t been out long enough to be universally hated yet and no one needs an iPad 3 until everyone has an iPad 2.  There are more pressing needs.

I was one of four hundred people who got an e-mail today saying an event had been canceled.  268 of those people sent reply e-mails saying essentially “thanks for letting me know.”  And all 268 of them replied all.  The remaining 131 (I did not participate) wrote back and said “please don’t reply all.”  And when they did, they replied all. To which the first 268 wrote “sorry, but you don’t have to get all huffy about it.”  And of course they replied all.  That brought back “I haven’t even started getting huffy, you keep replying all and you’ll see huffy,” replied to all.

So what the world really needs is an app that puts up a warning every time someone clicks on “reply all.”  Something like “are you sure you want to reply all?” When the sender clicks “yes” another screen will appear. “Not everyone needs to see this; do you really, really want to reply all?”  If the sender clicks “yes” again the screen would say “no, you don’t.  Don’t be an idiot.”  At that point the e-mail program would close.

That’s what the world needs.  Somebody should e-mail everyone at Microsoft and everyone at Apple and tell them about it.

And when they’ve got that done, they can start on an app that blocks every e-mail that starts “I never forward these, but this is just too good to pass up….”  Because, actually, no it’s not.

Mailbag

~ Lee Swanson ~ 1 Comment

A couple of interesting things popped up in the mail this week.

Stuffed in along with the gas bill was a flyer titled “Five Ways to Heat Your Home for Less.”  None of them will work of course, because if people actually did use less gas to heat their homes the gas company would raise the rates because in the utility world less is more.  More is more too, and they like that better, but they have to at least pretend they are being good citizens by encouraging savings and conservation.

Anyway, the number one tip for how to heat your home for less is this:  Set your furnace thermostat to 68 degrees or lower when you’re at home. You can save 5% for every two degrees you turn the thermostat down.

In other words, the best way to heat your home for less is to heat your home less.

This same advice can be followed in other endeavors.  To save on doctor bills, stay well. To save money at a restaurant, don’t order food.  To save money driving, park.

I knew there was a reason I never look at the junk attached to the gas bill.

The other thing I found intriguing was an e-mail from the Pew Research Center.  The Pew Internet and American Life Project did a study titled Why Most Facebook Users Get More Than They Give.

Here’s what they found:

  • 40% of Facebook users in our sample made a friend request, but 63% received at least one request
  • Users in our sample pressed the like button next to friends’ content an average of 14 times, but had their content “liked” an average of 20 times
  • Users sent 9 personal messages, but received 12
  • 12% of users tagged a friend in a photo, but 35% were themselves tagged in a photo

Yet more evidence the average person is sub-normal.

The Real Reason for Presidential Primaries

~ Lee Swanson ~ 1 Comment

Every four years, political writers, reporters, observers, pundits and prognosticators dust off their expense accounts and travel off to places they wouldn’t go for any other reason at any other time.

It’s the presidential nominating process. And for reporters it serves two purposes:  it lets them see how the quaint people live, and it gives them a chance to polish up their use of state nicknames.

State nicknames are used only by political reporters and the occasional sports writer.  The nicknames, like state flowers, birds, rocks, insects and weeds are the product of long hours of legislative debate by people specifically elected for their lack of imagination and creativity.

But because of an inane journalistic convention that says you can’t use the same word twice in the same paragraph, reporters are loath to write the name of the state in consecutive sentences.  Every political reporter carries a copy of “Ohrbach’s Official Listing of Arcane Facts” to use for just such occasions.

So far this year, we have the caucuses in The Corncob And Cows State and the primary in The Mirror Image of Vermont State.  Today voters are going to the polls in The Segregation State.  Next comes Florida, The Wishes It Was California State.

That’s followed by The Slot Machine And Hookers State, and then Maine, The May As Well Be Canada State. February 7 is the caucus in Colorado, The Would Have Been The Mountain State If West Virginia Didn’t Get First Choice State and Minnesota, the Nine Months Of Winter And Three Months of Bad Sledding State.  It’s also the date of the primary in Missouri, The I’ll Show You Mine If You Show Me Yours State.

Then there’s a little break until voters in Arizona, The Almost Uninhabitably Hot State and Michigan, the Ugly Football Helmet State go to the polls on February 28.  March starts with the caucus in Washington, The Not Enough Creativity To Come Up With An Original State Name Much Less A Nickname State.

And then Super Tuesday on March 6.  Only in America would the definitive presidential nominating contests be held on a day named after a football game.  There are three caucuses and seven primaries on March 6:

Alaska           The Gateway to Godforsaken Territory State

Georgia         The We Ain’t Gonna Have No Yankee Nickname State

Idaho            The Ought To Be Part of Montana State

Massachusetts The Consistently Misspelled State

North Dakota The Not Known For Anything State

Ohio             The We’re Really Sorry About Cleveland State

Oklahoma      The Nobody Would Have Ever Heard Of Us If It Hadn’t Been For The Grapes of Wrath And That Stupid Musical State

Tennessee     The Moonshine State

Vermont        The No We’re Not New Hampshire State

Virginia        The How Would You Feel If A Ham Was Named After You State

Then the reporters will have to go back home and submit their expenses so they can be ready to go to the convention and find out that despite what they said, all the candidates always loved the nominee all along.  Cue the balloons and confetti.

In Just One Week

~ Lee Swanson ~ 1 Comment

The week between Christmas and New Year is supposed to be slow in the news business.

Donald Trump left the Republican Party and changed his registration to unaffiliated, causing unaffiliated voters everywhere to reconsider their lack of commitment.

Rick Perry was asked about the proposed Keystone oil pipeline from Canada to Texas.  He’s in favor of it because “Every barrel of oil that goes south is one barrel of oil that we will not have to import from foreign countries.”  I’m not making this up.  You don’t have to make up stuff about Rick Perry.  He does it to himself. Maybe he knows something about Canada that the rest of us don’t, like that it’s really part of Montana?

Aren’t you going to miss Rick when he packs up and goes back to Texas?

Gary Johnson became the fourth candidate to officially leave the Republican Party presidential cavalcade (Not counting those who were courted but refused to run in the first place, including Mitch Daniels, Chris Christie, Haley Barbour, Mike Huckabee, Sarah Palin, Jeb Bush, Bobby Jindal, Paul Ryan, John Thune and the aforementioned Trump) and became the Libertarian Party’s tenth candidate for president. In so doing, he went from obscure to invisible.

Rick Santorum is being talked about as a viable candidate.  Really.

Newt Gingrich, facing the prospect of finishing fourth in the Iowa caucuses, continued his positive campaign by promising not to say anything negative about the people he considers incompetent ignoramuses who are challenging him for the nomination.

Gingrich proved unable to find 10,000 people in Virginia – the state where he lives – to sign a piece of paper saying he ought to be allowed to run for president.  Not that they would work for him, vote for him and even consider him, but just that he should be allowed to run if he wants.  Having failed to thus qualify for the primary ballot, Gingrich declared Virginia has a “failed system” because nothing is ever his fault. He then announced he would launch a vigorous write-in campaign, unaware that his home state does not allow write-in candidates in primaries.  If he didn’t know that as a resident or a presidential candidate, then as a self-described renowned historian he should have know Virginian has never in its history allowed write-ins in primaries.

Michele Bachmann’s Iowa campaign manager quit her campaign because, he said, she couldn’t win the nomination.  Later that day he joined Ron Paul’s campaign, presumably because he thinks Paul can win.  Bachmann claims the campaign manager told her he was given a large sum of money to defect.  What he really said was more along the lines of “you couldn’t pay me enough to vote for you.”

Mitt Romney campaigned at a corporate headquarters in Des Moines where he spoke mostly to the building because, as only he knows, corporations are people.

It appears likely either Romney or Ron Paul will finish first in the Iowa caucuses.  Either way, Romney wins.

Dentist

~ Lee Swanson ~ Leave a comment

I went to the dentist this morning and it struck me (though not literally) what an arcane experience that is.  Yes they can take x-rays without developing films and they can drill without filling your mouth with hoses, nozzles and vacuum tubes.

But this was just a cleaning and it is the least high tech thing that is done at a dentist’s office, with the possible exception of the three month old stack of magazines in the waiting room.

When the dental hygienist hygienes your dentistry she still scrapes away at your enamel with wires attached to a stick.  And I’m not sure why.  I don’t use a sharp piece of metal when I clean my teeth.  I do use a piece of string, which is another ridiculous ritual altogether.  And I have to admit I don’t really know what she’s doing.  All I can really see, after all, is what’s reflected in her glasses which means there’s a limit not only to what I can see but also to how much I care.  I hear the scraping and the occasional vacuuming but beyond that I neither know nor care what is going on.

There does come the moment when the hygienist’s assistant comes in to the cubicle and they turn a great deal of attention to my gums.  Now the sharp piece of wire is poked into my gums while the hygienist calls out numbers.  When she’s done, she asks if I know what that all means.  Since she does it twice a year and has for several years I’ve got a pretty good idea what it means.  But she asks anyway.  And I answer anyway.  I unfailingly answer “yes I do.  It means I’m twelve under par.”

She laughs, unfailing.  It’s part of the ritual.

I may be alone in this, but I don’t mind going to the dentist.  I’ve been going to this particular dentist, with a break of about six years when I moved out of town, for thirty years.  Unlike many of his patients, we haven’t talked much.  For one thing, my mouth is usually pried open and filled with his hands.  And truth be told, I don’t talk much to anyone.  Cheryl’s been going to my dentist for about six weeks and knows more about him and his entire staff than I have learned in thirty years.  There’s no real surprise in that.  Either.

Anyway, this whole dental teeth cleaning ritual thing mystifies me.  It seems primitive.  Maybe not primitive, but un-evolved perhaps.

We should be able to do better.  But at least we do what we do.  If we didn’t we’d be uncleansed, unsophisticated.  We’d be British.