Confectioners on crack

What drug(s) were candy makers on when inventing some of the names of popular candies and chocolates?  Certainly some names come from another era when society's lexicon included these unusual pairings. 

I'll return to this one later with some findings on these to start...

Butterfinger

Heath

100 Grand

Snickers

M and M's

Twizzlers

Meteorologist Monkeys

What if animals were able to predict the weather like we do/guess through Lou the meteorologist? 

Would they be ever more efficient at life?

Have humans become more efficient at life, at creating comfort through fairly accurate weather prediction? I think it's fairly easy to argue yes.   So then would this additional this enable some animals to live differently and possibly extend their lifespan?

Are you one of those with the opinion that animals can predict weather?  I think all would agree that animals can feel pressure changes and notice those visible differences in the sky, oceans, and earth, but what about prediction that's more than a day in the future?  Do (some) animals have some senses we don't?  

Daddy Issues

American society falls one more bit behind other advanced societies every time we embrace an inane phrase and proceed to overuse it.  

An example I just overheard "She's got daddy issues".   I would be willing to wager that most don't even know what this phrase relates to, what it really means, and how insulting it is to both those who know what it means correctly and incorrectly. 

Related to this has grown adjacent phrases like "come to papa".  Seriously, break that one down a minute.  Imagine the same cro magnon moron who pokes fun at a woman for having "daddy issues" in the afternoon uses "come to papa" with his wife later that evening. Sick. Stupid. Stupid sick.

6000 Mile Savory Sip

Travel via air from Edinburgh, Scotland to Sao Paulo, Brazil and you'll cover a touch over six thousand miles.  However, if you pick up a local specialty from each locale and combine them deftly with some ice in glass, you may think every one of the six thousand miles was worth it.

I recently met a bartender of bartenders.  Dave was one of the characters you meet in life who has a never ending supply of genuine experiences, all interesting, and all worth telling many times over.   Dave and I were discussing some of finer points of wine and beer, or rather Dave was gracefully keeping me in the conversation, as his expertise was exceptional.

Dave had a particular interest in cocktails of late, and had been experimenting with various ingredients, hoping to add more great libations to his notebook.  We talked about the science of pure ice production, (it's really not too difficult to make perfectly clear ice cubes at home) and soon we shifted to Scotch based drinks.   Dave's mentioned an appreciation of coconut water, which I also have, and before I could say no, Dave had poured two Ardbeg Scotch and coconut waters.  Refreshing and unusual in that it's a Scotch based mixer, which is difficult to mix, as I understand it.  Jamie, another bar patron had now partaken and proclaimed it excellent.

All we needed now was a name.  "Scoconut" sprung to mind, but that really wasn't all that interesting. Although Bobonut (Bourbon and coconut water) and Jojonut (Jack Daniels based) make the trio fun to say if nothing else.  Give one a try, and create some "Dave" stories of your own.

Sarcastic Safety

Little sums the dumbing down of the world more than some examples of "safety" improvements made to consumer goods.   Consider a few recent experiences of mine...

I finally had worn out an old kettle burner - the type one uses to prepare a "boil" like crawfish or lobster or crab. These are the outdoor propane burners that sits under a large kettle and heats whatever is in the 6 gallon kettle above it.   Others use these to boil water and components for beer, as do I, but many others use these to fry whole turkeys in oil.   Whole turkey frying became much more popular in the mid-2000's, and with that, the masses tried their hand at it.   Of course, instructions were ignored, in the name of manliness, wisdom, or hubris, and as a result US fire departments were called to 156,000 home fires in 2011, with many accidents likely self-extinguished.   Therefore, these types of burners were made subject to additional government agency requirements in design to help insure the less intelligent consumers from their own lack of fire safety.
 

Unfortunately, the changes required to outdoor cooking products like these clashed with the drive to lower the cost of these units due to competition.  Most sell for less than $100 USD, and therefore the safety enhancements needed to be added at a minimal cost.  However, these changes such as temperature monitoring and cooking vessel sensors aren't inexpensive, simple improvements.  So, they were done as inexpensively as possible, and in doing so, design and components suffered, thereby making them nearly impossible to make effective.  My experience has been one of safety sarcasm...I spend more time messing around with the product close to flowing gas, ignition sources or flames than I do warming the kettle.   So, in the end, the safety devices mandated for the idiots actually makes the product more dangerous to use.  Hopefully the accident statistics wake up the governmental agencies soon to allow for alterations to the specifications to truly make these things safer.   Until then, the old style, pre-mandate burners will continue to sell for a premium on ebay, and consumers will ignite home fires for entirely new reasons other than dunking a frozen turkey into 200+ degree oil.

Another example of safety sarcasm comes in the form of a gasoline container.  Recently, a product failure in a vehicle I was driving led to my running out of fuel.   As the vehicle's gauge didn't accurately read the fuel level, the engine stopped on a major freeway, at night in a snow/sleet storm.   I didn't have any advance warning, so the best I could do was to pull over as far as possible and set the hazard flashers.   After a long brisk, wet walk to purchase a fuel container, I finally found a large home improvement warehouse with 6 different fuel containers.  Each had a new device on the nozzle which wouldn't allow dispensing of fuel without turning a safety lock and then compressing the nozzle.   Having no other choice, I bought this container, and proceeded to find fuel and return to the stranded vehicle.   In the dark and snow, I located a flashlight to figure out exactly what this new design required to pour fuel.  Unfortunately, the government agency seemingly thought of exactly one requirement when mandating this design on all manufacturers - dispensing fuel into a small machine's tank.  The nozzle required one hand to hold the container (upwards of 40 pounds, full with 5 gallons) and another to hold a safety slide to one side.  It also required that the nozzle be compressed in order to dispense fuel.  I learned all this as I stood within 6 feet of semi trucks doing 75 miles per hour.
 Recall it's 25 degrees F and snowing, and add deafening sounds, blinding headlights, and gusts of passing blowback.

In the middle of this extremely dangerous situation, I'm trying to use a flashlight to ensure I've got the safety slide right, and trying to find something on the vehicle's fuel intake to "catch" the nozzle on so as to allow fuel to dispense.  The problem is...vehicles don't have a catch like this.  So, while my life is in more danger than I've ever been while filling a lawnmower, I'm being "protected" by the safety "improvements" made to the modern fuel container.  I had to stand in that extremely dangerous position for 15 minutes rather than 3 due to this improvement.  Luckily I finally figured out a way to get the fuel from the container into the vehicle's tank without being killed. Again, ebay holds all manner of older options for those that wish to more safely dispense fuel to a standed vehicle.

I hope more consumers raise concerns about these isolated design "improvements", so we can reduce this safety sarcasm, and hopefully prevent injuries.
 

Jogging Memories

Unusually, I was the spectator, rather than participant, in a recent running/jogging/walking event.  It was refreshing to be there, and take in the buzz and energy of the event without enduring the discomfort and unease of maximum effort exercise.  It was also fun to get a full glimpse of what goes on around and within the ranks of participants, filling the full spectrum of personality.

Competing rather well in a full marathon distance run were:

Punkathon

Mennonthon (check the gent and his wife wearing jeans, boots, suspenders, backpack and requisite mustache-less beard)

Buzzathon (runner who likes to dress like a honeybee)

Poohathon / BlackedOutAnonymousManathon

Insprirathon (runners in a local charity to raise funds for clean water access in Africa)

RegularJoeathon

RunnerWithSpouseWhoWalksHisCatathon

Ninjletathon

 Watching the competitors rather than watching the stopwatch felt luxurious.  It's really a great experience to help support those undertaking the nearly impossible to succeed, knowing that humanity supports them, even as complete strangers.  It stands as one of the ever more rare situations where people drop boundaries and simply openly support others. Support for choice of clothing for certain racers was tough to give however, as the whole range of personality is exhibited in the choice of clothing for the event.  From pictures alone, one would face difficulty in determining whether it was 100 degrees outside or 10.  It would be tough to figure out what was at the end of the race as well -   A beach? A dance club? A pole barn build party?

Entertaining,surprising, impressing, inspiring...sign up for a race as a spectator soon!

The Seas Were Angry My Friend

Recently, I experienced one of those events that truly instills fear.  One that really tests you well beyond what people often experience.  An experience on that short list of times when you really haven't control over the moment, and you simply have no comfort other than reliance on your wisdom, training, and prayer.

I've spent a few decades learning the many nuances of boatsmanship, and I'll surely spend remaining decades in my life continuing to learn.  The event of Sunday, Sept 1st was one I'll never forget, and has exponentially added to my boatsmanship skill set.  This is one event that will exist in my pantheon of scariest life experiences- err, near death experiences.   Unlike the major motor vehicle accident I was in, wherein the car rolled twice and flipped end over end, this experience took more than 6.3 seconds.  This event lasted 30 minutes or so, but felt like 30 hours. 

Around 11am, my younger brother and I headed into the Atlantic mid-day under an oppressively hot and humid day.    We went in search of the sea's bounty, settling in at a little known artificial reef that often hides sharks, striped bass, Atlantic croaker, skate, sting rays, summer flounder, tautog, and other salt water species on migration.    As this area is only 50 or so feet of depth, I often anchor to hang right on top of the reef.   This day, however, I didn't do so, for no particular reason other than some internal nudge - The proverbial "gut feeling".   

We drifted with the minor wind and current, taking in the sun and reeling in a few Atlantic Croaker... 

 Noticing a bit of darkness in the sky over the land, I immediately checked the weather radar, which reported a minor area of precip a few miles southwest, but on a heading toward us.  We thought "No problem...a short shower will feel good to cool off.  20 minutes later this shower came by and it cooled things off a bit, pushing the temperature down, yet producing little rain.  

Fishing continued, and more fun was had pulling in more fish, and trying different baits and techniques. After one catch we turned to look at the sky again, feeling some wind kicking up, and noticed a much more ominous cloud, very dark and funnel-ish in shape much like the picture below.  

We began to weigh the option of returning the 5-10 miles to shore, but before we had pulled in the fishing lines, the rain really started coming down, and the winds picked up. This is when it began to get interesting, but still just little more than an inconvenience.

10 minutes later, the ocean had taken on an entirely Mr. Hyde to the Dr. Jekyll of earlier.  The wind had picked up tremendously pushing waves ever higher, but worse, it was blowing hard enough to blow sea spray into the boat and worse still, into our faces as we stood watching the situation deteriorate.  At this point, the boat was really getting pushed to it's limits of seaworthiness.   I pulled off my drenched shirt and hat, and stood in the sideways rain pelting me at 50+ miles per hour.   That hurt.  It's similar to being hit by hail or a bb gun.  And the noise...it's such a freakish noise with all that water being blown in every direction.  Watch the final sequence of The Perfect Storm and you'll get the idea.

I worked to keep the boat pointed into the waves, and did so successfully for a while although the rain and salt spray from waves was now making my vision nearly worthless, so I was really running out of scientific, skills based actions to counter the now tremendously sized waves, coming at odd frequencies, and seemingly even directions.   I had the engine running constantly, and was constantly making steering adjustments to try my best to keep the water out of the boat, although a few waves cleared the bow entirely and splashed water onto the deck.  The gps was left on during so that I had some semblance of direction and position.  Although we could clearly see the shore 30 minutes prior, it was now to the point where we couldn't see 30 feet from the boat.  During the storm I was forced to continue further to sea, so as to keep the boat from rolling over in the waves by pointing the bow directly into the waves.

There was a clear point where I became very afraid of the consequences of having to do this for much longer.  I could see the Japanese paintings of huge scary waves in my mind, and trying to remember if the ships in those made it, or were sunk. 

My vision was down to nothing, I was freezing, and the waves and wind grew larger and faster, such that something would soon cause that 1 in 10 sequence where the boat can't sustain the abuse, and a wave either rolls or floods the boat, sinking it quickly.   This was the point that silent prayer began in earnest.  I wasn't about to let my younger brother know just how grave the situation was...as he was being a trooper and staying low and out of the stinging spray as I asked.   I wasn't saying much to him, as I was concentrating on two things: prayer, and the waves.

This is the moment at which I knew there was a clear possibility that we would sink, an ever increasingly probable inevitability.  Therefore, I began to ensure I had everything down for an SOS call to the coast guard, and all we should do before abandoning the 7500 pound boat.   I was trying to recall how to figure out direction without visual reference.  Luckily, the winds began to slow, and my vision returned with that change.  Seriously, this was the first moment in about 25 minutes in which I could see anything.  Ever get sprayed directly in the face from a garden hose nozzle?  Yeah, try it for 25 minutes straight.  Eyes stinging, my vision did return, and also returning was some confidence in being able to keep us safe.   Conditions subsided further, and I was able to sigh with relief that I would be able to return my niece and nephew's dad to them.  That was really one of the scariest thoughts I had during the 30 minute ordeal. 

As the waves mellowed, my shivering and shaking due to cold and nervousness subsided.  The boat began to clear its excess water entirely, and I told my brother it was ok to stand up and look around again.   Such elation filled my shivering skull as I was able to see the shore again.   We were all smiles...adrenaline flowing, cheating death, and claiming a minor victory.   We put on some dry clothing to warm up, and returned to calmer bay waters, reflecting on the experience, and just how lucky we were to survive - keeping the catch for dinner was simply cream on top.  

So many factors could have led to that day being my last on the earth, and I truly have none to thank other than the person upstairs.  The events on the sea that day taught me once again that life is short, and fragile. One really mustn't take anything or anyone for granted. Be kind. Don't sweat the small stuff, and for damn sure, make the most of absolutely every minute.   Anyone up for a fishing trip?