The Return Of Florida Man

He’s Ba-a-a-ck!

Look up in the sky---it’s a bird!  It’s a plane…nope, it’s Floridaman, floating to the ground in a pink tutu, looking for trouble and more often than not, finding it.

In Martin County, long-time Florida man Joseph Leedy, naked from the waist down and otherwise “acting erratically,” drove his car from the jail parking lot straight up a walkway and through the glass lobby doors into the county lockup.  After making his spectacular entrance, Leedy proceeded to toss rubber snakes all over the place, then doused his vehicle with motor oil before correctional officers intervened.

“He didn’t like President Trump very much,” said Chief Deputy John Budensiek.  “Said Trump was on his shit list.  He also said the devil told him to kill as many people as possible and he was starting with us.” 

Leedy faces an astonishing number of charges, including four counts of assault on an officer.  At least they didn’t have to haul him off to jail.

Meanwhile, back at the beach, a Florida man was arrested for trying to sail to London in a giant homemade hamster wheel.  “It’s nobody’s business where I want to go in my hamster wheel,” Reza Baluchi, 44, told the Coast Guard after they finally talked him out of there three days after he was discovered.  Mr. Baluchi has tried three similar voyages in the past, all of which ended in Coast Guard intervention.

The makeshift contraption is a large wheel with paddles that are designed to propel his craft forward as the wheel revolves.  “It’s nuts,” said an unnamed CG officer.  “Based on the sorry condition of the vessel, which was afloat as a result of crazy wiring and buoys, Baluchi was conducting a manifestly unsafe voyage.”  No kidding.  “And he was embarking just as a major hurricane was on the horizon.”  Neither sideways rain nor typhoon winds nor lightning bolts on steroids shall stay these brazen hamster wheel sailors from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.  And you wonder why we have a Coast Guard.  We do still have a Coast Guard, right?

Stop!  In The Name Of Love.

Florida man Dusty Mobley tried to cut and run on his riding lawnmower when Okaloosa County police closed in, attempting to serve the 40-year-old culprit with several arrest warrants.  The cops shouted at Dusty to stop, but he wasn’t buying, swerving his vehicle and heading for Perdition.  Mobley is on a first name basis with deputies after a previous encounter when he jumped into a swamp to evade capture.

As fast as a John Deere ride-on might be, the lawmen caught up and smacked Dusty with a taser blast.  When he was apprehended, the criminal was found to be in possession of a revolver, a handcuff key and a pipe with methamphetamine residue.  Hey, you never know when you’ll need one of them handcuff keys.

Mobley was charged with the theft of a $40,000 boat, grand theft of a vehicle, felony criminal mischief, two counts of resisting an officer, possession of a concealed weapon by a felon, carrying a concealed handcuff key, possession of drug paraphernalia and a partridge in a persimmon tree.  One local wag said, “What I would give to see the video of him getting tased on the lawnmower played to the Benny Hill theme.  If he would have outrun them on that mower, it would have been a classic commercial for John Deere.” 

The Untimely Demise Of Big Roo

A Florida man has been accused of murdering his neighbor’s rooster…and now a chickenshit feud between the perp and the pet owner has ended in a a 30-day jail sentence.

Big Roo was Jason Defelice’s beloved rooster until James Nix hit him with a stick.  “I was defending myself,” says Nix.  “I was fearing for my safety.  He was coming at me with a mean look in his eye.  What would you do?  That’s one scary chicken.  Or, was.”  James alleged it was not the first time the fowl creature attacked a neighbor, but Defelice said he’d heard no complaints from anyone else.  “It’s just a chicken—what’s he going to do, slap you around?” 

Nix said he was only trying to get away.  “I just tried to get him off me but the chicken is jumping all over me.  I tried to fend it off but I accidentally knocked it in the head.  You know…call it a lucky shot.  Next thing you know, he calls the chicken police on me.  I mean, come on—chickens are dying every day at Popeye’s and KFC.  Really.”

Animal control voted in favor of the chicken.  Nix was arrested and sent to jail for the vile crime of animal cruelty.  Somewhere in that big chicken coop in the sky, Big Roo is smiling.

Eight Miles High

Florida man Timothy Gunter, 34, was not altogether alarmed when subdued by Lake County police for robbing a home near Paisley.  After being booked into jail on charges of burglary and methamphetamine possession, Gunter complained of having received some “bad narcotics” and requested a deputy test his stash.  He handed over a plastic baggie containing a clear, crystal-like substance, which turned out to be low-grade meth.  “You can’t trust anybody any more,” grumped the offender.

In Winter Park, police reported residents inside a home on 6th Street were awakened by Florida man Austin Smith, 23.  When they went to investigate they found Smith in the living room, wearing only a shirt with no pants or shoes, holding their vacuum cleaner in his hands.  Smith told the cops he didn’t recall what he was doing because he was high on meth.  He was charged with burglary of an occupied building but had the good grace not to ask police to evaluate his drugs.

What started as a road rage incident in cozy Dunnellon eventually spiraled into a chaotic arrest scene involving a Florida man, his loyal pit bull, a naked child, over $15,000 in discarded bills and enough fentanyl to kill over 4000 people.  Josue Hernandez, 38, is facing several charges, including two counts of battery of an officer, resisting arrest with violence, child neglect, trafficking in fentanyl and possession of drug paraphernalia.  The Marion County Sheriff’s Office was originally alerted to a fight in the roadway stemming from a road rage incident.  When a deputy arrived on the scene, he saw Hernandez “throwing garbage from the open windows of his vehicle (the ‘garbage’ was later discovered to include the $15,000).”

“After my 7th request that he come out and speak with me, he rolled down the back driver’s side window and an aggressive pit bull climbed halfway out,” reported the deputy.  “He asked me ‘Are you a pussy?  Are you scared of dogs?’”

Hernandez then got out of his car and assumed a fighting stance, at which time the deputy tried to grab his wrists.  The perp resisted and nearly pushed the lawman onto Highway 484, a busy, high-traffic area.  The deputy used his taser on Hernandez twice, but the offender ripped it out and ran away, calling for his dog to attack the cop.  Other arriving deputies used oleoresin capsicum spray to discourage the pit bull.  Eventually, Hernandez was tackled and detained.  It was never established whether the original deputy was or was not a pussy.   

Enter Florida Woman

Ordinarily, Elizabeth Hill-Brodigan might have been sent to the principal’s office for hosting a booze-filled house party for over 100 kids at her Cocoa Beach home.  Trouble is Lizzy is the principal at Theodore Roosevelt Elementary School.  Students there claimed Hill-Brodigan threw these affairs at least once or twice a month.  Police responded to numerous calls from irate neighbors who complained about underage drinking, marijuana use and addled children walking through their yards cussing at them.  The cops witnessed at least one juvenile vomiting in a neighbor’s front yard who required medical attention.  Police also stopped a vehicle that ran a stop sign and barely missed hitting their car.  “Two underaged and drunk females were inside, a driver and her passenger.  The driver provided a breath sample which was double the legal limit for alcohol.  The passenger was cited for pot,”  said the report.  “They laughed at us and told us girls just want to have fun.” 

A Florida woman was arrested by Pinellas County deputies after she allegedly used an electric screwdriver to drive a screw into her 12-year-old daughter’s buttocks.  Jaclyn Goszczynski, 40, was hauled in and charged with child abuse after the incident.  According to the arrest report, Goszczynski and three children were hanging picture frames when she approached one daughter and asked her, “Have you ever been screwed in the ass?”  Without waiting for an answer, Mrs. G. pulled out her tool, pressed it to the kid’s left butt cheek and pressed down on the trigger, driving the screw in.  “The screw was stuck in the victim’s buttock until the perpetrator took it out, leaving a visible mark on her backside,” the affidavit reported.  Goszczynski was arrested and eventually released on a $25,000 bond.  The perp hinted that the Devil made her do it.  The Devil vehemently denied all responsibility.

Raise a glass to Florida Man (and now, Woman).  Long live his name and long live her glory and long may their stories be told.

That’s all, folks….

bill.killeen094@gmail.com 

On February & Selected Short Subjects

February gets a bad rap.  January might be just as blustery, but it stands up tall with its 31 days, New Year’s Eve confetti and the Rose Parade.  February unaccountably has a meager 28 days, a pseudo-holiday involving a groundhog who predicts a long winter and the remains of two holidays skwushed into one and renamed President’s Day.  January has Martin Luther King Day, February has Indian Coast Guard Day.  Talk about no respect.  Everybody goes silly at the arrival of the first robin in March, baseball’s opening day in April, beach blanket bingo in May…the Second Month gets bupkus.

How quickly you forget the pleasures of February.  At twilight on 2-6-25, we sat with friends at the homey University of Florida softball field and watched The Girls of Springtime open their season on a 70-degree, clear-as-a-bell evening that could not have been more perfect.  It was like watching a play in a spa, an outdoor ballet at a roofless Lincoln Center, a sneak preview of Vernal bliss.

February doesn’t laze about, imagining what could have been if Julius Caesar had shown a little compassion.  It’s too busy tending to its knitting as Humpback Whale Awareness Month, which includes Aromatic Spectrum Awareness Week, World Hippopotamus Day (the 15th) and Random Acts of Kindness Day (17th).  In February, long-tailed tits…we beg your pardon…start to gather nesting material, a project which will take up to three weeks, to construct an intricately crafted nest of moss, lichen and their own down feathers, all bound together with spider silk.

The Chinese New Year might begin on January 29th but The Year of the Wood Snake moves into high gear in February, culminating with the exotic full Snow Moon on the 12th.  It’s Ice Cream For Breakfast Day on the first Saturday, National Hemp Day at Chuck LeMasters’ house on the 4th and Shower With A Friend Day (bring your own towel and don’t drop the Ivory) on February 5th.  There’s no end to the wonders of The Second Month and you can celebrate them on National Margarita Day on the 22nd…or if you’re a pup, National Dog Biscuit Day on the 23rd.  Arf Arf!  Let’s raise a glass then, to fabulous February.  With a couple more days, she coulda been a contender.

Be Mine

No month can be discounted if it has Valentine’s Day in it.  There may be no business like show business but try getting a table at any bistro on 2-14, when February shows its muscle.  “Reservations?  Of course, sir---would you like to dine at 4 p.m. or 9?  For spillovers we have the lovely Panic Room, a converted air-raid cavern brilliantly lit by patchouli candles with floor tables and futons and music by the Velvet Underground.”

Siobhan and Bill were engaged on Valentine’s Day, 2015 after sipping champagne and watching the sun set in lovely Cedar Key.  How romantic can you get, right?  Bill popped the question over dinner at the exotic Island Hotel restaurant, a proposal which might have charmed and flabbergasted the average bride-to-be.  Siobhan just answered “Sure,” perhaps miffed by her lengthy 29-year tryout period.  The happy groom immediately purchased his partner a flashy $600 sequined wedding dress, but she eschewed it for a $99 gown which arrived from China folded into a postage stamp-sized package.  It turned out to be a spectacular garment and they were wed in June of 2016.  Somehow, despite all odds, the marriage took and they lived happily ever after.  Smug after yet another success story, February licks her thumb and puts up one more star on the board.

Spare Change?

Not if you’re Trumpelstiltskin, who is madly trying to weave Bitcoin into gold despite the colossal crypto crash of 2022 when the price of the stuff and other digital currencies plummeted, leaving several companies bankrupt and a few top execs in prison.  Analysts called it Crypto’s Great Recession.  You probably didn’t notice.  Now Trumpy is back with a Great Plan to create a federal stash of Bitcoin, enabling companies to offer more coins to the public.  So next time the industry crashes, the impact could be more severe, rippling across the economy and hurting a wider array of investors.

The riskiest type of crypto might be the memecoin, a digital currency based on an online joke or a celebrity mascot.  It has no practical use and vendors won’t accept it as payment, but the Prez got big eyes and created his own memecoin, naming it $Trump and heavily advertising it on his social media accounts.  Crypto investors snapped up the coins like they were orange spray tan, the prices rocketed and the Trumpy family collected millions of dollars in fees.  The surge didn’t last very long.  The coin’s price dropped faster than Matt Gaetz’ pants at a Girl Scout camporee, and hundreds of thousands of people got buried.  Analysis by a crypto forensics firm found that most of the coin’s buyers were first time investors in digital currency.  As the popsicle man used to say, So Long, Suckers.

If Trumpy has his way, pretty soon you won’t be able to offer anyone a penny for his thoughts.  The Great Leader recently ordered the Federal Mint to stop minting the things, pointing out they cost twice as much to print as they’re worth, but then again, so does he.

Trumpelstiltskin might have a point here.  Who wouldn’t like to see the demise of merch signs reading $9.99?  Let’s round everything off with zeroes, it’s much more practical.  Which begs the point, do we really need nickels?  How about dimes?  You can’t even find a dime bag any more.  Even the bum on the corner who asks, “Brother, can you spare a dime?” looks at you with contempt if you actually give him one.  Think how much we’d save by abolishing coins completely.  Now that we have almost no pay phones, what are coins good for except serving as emergency screwdrivers?

Maybe we don’t even need one-dollar bills.  In olden times, these crisp little fellas were the heart and soul of The Dollar Store—you could use one to buy a sock or a wok or a jock.  Try to find something for a buck at The Dollar Store today.  They should be sued for false advertising.  When we were kids, nickels, dimes and quarters were coin of the realm for tips…a whole dollar was a special reward.  Try giving a waitress a buck tip today and she’ll spit in your coffee.  Still, The Two Dollar Store doesn’t sound right.

Forget about coins and dollar bills.  Like the Christmas Island pipistrella and the Pyrenean ibex, cash itself is in danger of extinction.  Tried to get into any kind of athletic event lately without a credit card?  No can do.  Rent a bounce house?  Don’t make us laugh.  Bills are out of favor, gauche, too much trouble, reserved only for a spot in a stripper’s garter.  Unlike coins, however, the public will never accept a complete ban.  Who doesn’t dream of the day he can open a suitcase with one million dollars in cash inside?  Who doesn’t fantasize about Scrooge McDuck’s money bin?  And what’s the wife going to say when the Master Card bill comes in with a monster charge from the Chick Ranch brothel in Pahrump?

We seldom disagree with Sophie Tucker, who had this to say: “”From birth to age 18, a girl needs good parents.  From 18 to 35, she needs good looks.  From 35 to 55, she needs a good personality.  From 55 on, she needs cash.”

The Kryptonite Bowl

So much for the Kansas City Chiefs being a one-point favorite.  Remember that next college football season when old Winsocki buckles down against the Ramblin’ Wreck from Carnegie Tech.  “Listen Ralph, Vegas has the Fighting Nerds a 14-point underdog—I want a little of that action.”  Just say au contraire, mon ami and see who Feinbaum likes.

Of course, everybody really watches the Super Bowl for the ads or the half-time entertainment, which this year was headlined by somebody named Kendrick Lamar, the king of hip-hop.  Now, I have no doubt that Kendrick was a straight-A student in high school, a doting husband who mows his lawn every Saturday, a voice for those crying in the desert, an amalgam of 2Pac, Lil Wayne, Nas and Snoop Dog and a soul-searching intellectual, but nobody we know could hear the man.  Those who could waited patiently for Kendrick to bring the house down with his leviathan hit “Not Like Us,” but he ignored it to give the middle finger to his long time frenemy-turned-nemesis Drake, calling him a “certified pedophile.”  Just what you want for your halftime entertainment, more bitch-slapping.  But hey, the dancers were great, right?  Next year, let’s forget the pseudo-music and have a hip-hop cage match, no-holds-barred, a championship belt with a giant silver buckle to the winner.

By the way, where the hell is Dolly Parton when you really need her?

That’s all, folks….

bill.killeen094@gmail.com 

 

   

I’ll Be Ba-a-a-ck!

On August 3, 2007, China’s State Administrators for Religious Affairs issued a decree that all the reincarnations of tulkus of Tibetan Buddhism must get governmental approval.  Otherwise, they are “illegal or invalid.”  The state Administration for Religious Affairs said the new regulations were “an important move to institutionalize management of reincarnation.”  Fascinating as the concept may be, the real objective was to limit the power of the Dalai Lama, Tibet’s spiritual and political leader who has been living in exile in Dharamshala in the Indian Himalayas since 1959.  This meant that when the Dalai Lama, now a sprightly 89, passes away there could be two Dalai Lamas---the real one chosen by the Buddhist monks and the cheap imitation government-approved Dalai Lama.  What’s a true believer to do?

The original Dalai Lama, however, didn’t get to be D.L. for nothing.  He immediately asserted that he would not be reborn in any place under China’s control, putting government authorities in a quandary.  Since the Dali Lama refused to die, all remained quiet on the Eastern front until November of 2021 when a senior local Communist Party official toured three townships in the well-named county of Sog in the Tibet Autonomous Region that has a history of resistance to state controls on religion.  His goal was to insure that local Tibetan officials were obeying the government policies on reincarnation.  The locals all promised they were being good but there was some consternation about a snickering renegade hyena who followed the official everywhere he went.

According to Tibetan lore, each Dalai Lama is a reincarnation of the Avalokitesvara, who embodies the compassion of all Buddhas.  He is both the foremost spiritual leader of the Gelug school of Tibetan Buddhism and in many times past and present also a political leader of the Tibetans.  Traditionally, after he dies, a search begins in Tibet to find his reincarnation.  As you can imagine, this is tough work involving questions like which way was the D.L. looking when he died and which direction the smoke blows when he is cremated, not to mention the interpretation of visions from the holy oracle lake Lhamo Latso in Tibet.  While predictably most Dalai Lamas have been found in Tibet, one longshot was born in Mongolia and another in India, both with Vegas odds of 200-1 or more.

Realizing this a critical matter to millions of followers and potential dupes, we here at Flying Pie headquarters advocate the hiring of a skilled, experienced human-locator like, say, Dog, the Bounty Hunter to find the new D.L.  Despite being a grizzled 71, Dog is willing to scour the Earth to find his man and is not easily put off by whiny Chinese doughboys waving edicts.

What if the next Dalai Lama trips everyone up by being born as a woman.  It’s possible---reincarnation is a tricky taskmaster.  What if he”s born in Tuvalu or the Faroe Islands or Opa-Locka?  How is anybody going to find him?  Further complicating this whole business is the issue of the Panchen Lama, another prominent reincarnation lineage.  Traditionally, the Dalai Lamas and the Panchen Lamas have played a major role in identifying once another, which leaves plenty of room for hanky-panky.  The last Panchen Lama, born in Tibet and recognized by the current Dalai Lama, disappeared at the age of six in the mid-1990s and was never heard from again.  What if he suddenly shows up and throws a monkey wrench into the works?  No matter what happens, the Chinese government is inevitably going to get their own Dalai Lama, putting the two leaders at odds and forcing a no-holds-barred cage match at Caesar’s on Super Bowl weekend.  Who says organized religion isn’t any fun?

The Logistics of Reincarnation

“I’m petrified of reincarnation because…you know…I like being me.”---Chris Martin

What happens when we die, that is the question?  Joe E. Brown of Austin, Texas was so sure about his opinion he plastered it on a roadside billboard; When You’re Dead, You’re Dead!  He has an army of co-believers.  The Catholic Church, on the other hand, teaches that you have two depots, Heaven and Hell, both determined by your actions in this life.  We have always rejected the Catholic option, but now we’re not so sure.  If there is no Hell, where are we going to put Donald Trump and his slobbering army of sycophants when they die?  Even Baltimore is too good for this motley crew.

Despite your snickering, a lot of people believe in reincarnation.  “Hindus do it, Buddhists do it, even tie-dyed hippies do it, let’s do it, let’s fall in line.”  Not so fast, my friends, let’s have a few details.

According to The Handbook of Christian Apologetics, reincarnation occurs when the individual soul survives death and transmigrates into another body, not necessarily human.  Sort of like recycling.  This can happen many times.  Only when the soul has learned its lessons well and become sufficiently enlightened can it gain entrance into the good kids tent and perhaps be absorbed by the Cosmic Arranger.  If one leads a good life, he is reborn as a more enlightened being; if not, he moves to Dung Beetle City with Lindsay Graham.  This concept is over 3000 years old and has now expanded to the point where worldwide more people believe in it than do not, not that that’s any guarantee.  After all, they have the same opinion about soccer.

The idea of reincarnation is strongest perhaps in Hinduism, where it is a theological doctrine.  Their evidence in support of reincarnation comes from two sources…first, the jatismaras-people who can actually remember their past lives, and second, the testimony of their scriptures and saints.  Interestingly, Buddhism does not describe reincarnation in the same way as do the Hindus.  According to Alan Peto, a 30-year-old Buddhist who knows about these things, his religion teaches the concept of “rebirth,” which is similar to reincarnation but not exactly the same since “There is no ‘self’ or ‘soul,’ thus it would be impossible to be reincarnated as the same person in an animal, for instance, because there is no self to be reincarnated.”  Wait…what?

The Christian Bibles reject reincarnation in favor of resurrection, which teaches that after you die, your body remains inert for a time while your soul takes off to Heaven or Hades.  Christians cannot affirm reincarnation because it is in direct conflict with resurrection.  Monsignor Daly will tell you that you don’t get infinite chances to get life right.  “That philosophy says it’s okay if I mess up in this life, I’ll always get another life to make things better.  It’s like in baseball when you strike out.  You go back to the dugout, you don’t get three more strikes.”

Ah!  Finally a language we can understand. 

The Search For Bridey Murphy (1798-1864)

In 1952, Colorado businessman and amateur hypnotist Morey Bernstein put housewife Virginia Tighe of Pueblo, Colorado in a trance that elicited revelations about Tighe’s alleged past life as a nineteenth-century Irishwoman.  Bernstein used a technique called hypnotic regression, during which the subject is gradually taken back to childhood.  He then attempted to take Virginia one step further and was astonished to find he was listening to Bridey Murphy, an eight-year-old 1806 Irish schoolgirl living in Cork.

The conversation rambled on through Bridey Murphy’s life and to a fall which caused her death in 1864.  She watched her own funeral, describing her tombstone and the state of being in life after death, a feeling neither of pain nor happiness.  Somehow, she was reborn in America 59 years later, now named Virginia Mae Reese.  Though never having been to Ireland and not ordinarily speaking with even the slightest Irish accent, under hypnosis Tighe spoke with a heavy brogue and even used Irish expressions.

The story of Bridey Murphy was first told in a series of articles by William J. Barker in the Denver Post in 1954.  In early 1956, Doubleday released a book by Bernstein, which caused a sensation in this country and brought notoriety to reincarnation, which had never been taken seriously in the United States.  Rigorous investigations discovered that many of the details provided by Tighe were accurate, particularly her descriptions of the Antrim coastline and a shopping trip with a grocer named Farr, who was proven to have existed.  If some of her information was erroneous, it was not enough to discourage the new converts from adopting the existence of reincarnation and reveling in the possibilities.  The idea of life not ending with death delighted hopeful Americans and reincarnation took up residence with a new cadre of believers.

Virginia Tighe, herself, disliked being in the spotlight and was skeptical about reincarnation, though in later years she remarked, “The older I get, the more I want to believe.”  We know the feeling, Virginia.  Tighe died in Denver in 1995, “perhaps for the second time,” as the New York Times put it.  As the years passed, nonbelievers brought forth “Cryptomnesia” as an explanation for Tighe’s memories.  More important, the Bridey Murphy phenomena brought forth a Scrooge McDuck comic book story called “Back to Long Ago,” in which Scrooge and Donald Duck get hypnotized to find out about their past lives and learn of their previous existence as sailors Malcom McDuck and Pintail Duck on a frigate of the British Navy in 1564.  Thousands of children who had never heard of reincarnation assailed their parents with avid questions about the possibilities.  Despite the quick dismissals of their elders, the notion took root in many young and fertile minds and never left.  Later, many within the hippie revolution of the sixties and seventies embraced the concept of reincarnation due to their strong influence from Eastern religions like Hinduism and Buddhism, where the belief is a central tenet…and their interest in New Age spirituality, which often incorporated feelings of deja vu, karma and reincarnation.

William Jones once said, “I am no Hindu, but I hold the doctrine of the Hindus concerning a true state (rebirth) to be incomparably more rational, more pious, and more likely to deter men from vice than the horrid opinions inculcated by Christians of punishments without end.”

Henry David Thoreau added, “As far back as I can remember, I have unconsciously referred to the experiences of a previous state of existence.”

Walt Whitman: “I know I am deathless…we have thus far exhausted trillions of winters and summers. There are trillions ahead, and trillions ahead of them.”

And finally, Voltaire: “The doctrine of reincarnation is neither absurd nor useless.  It is not more surprising to be born twice than once.”

Draw your own conclusions, esteemed Pie-eaters.  There are no answers, only mysteries.

That’s all, folks…

bill.killeen094@gmail.com 

The Tragic Kingdom

What’s a Trump-respecting Republican to do?  The kids are screaming to go to Disney World but The Mouse has riled right-wing-honky parents by ignoring Governor Ron’s “Don’t Say Gay” bill.  Fox News has even branded Mickey (shudder) “woke.”  Nobody really knows what that means but conservative goobers don’t like it one bit.  Alas, now the wife is siding with the kids, threatening to take Dick and Jane to the Magic Kingdom while hubby plays militia man in Fargo.  There’s only one good solution--- we need a Trumpy World.

The initially proposed site for the massive project, Fruitland Park in Lake County, Florida was all set until Donald got the news.  “It’s FRUITland Park, for God’s sake, we can’t have that.  People will tease me.”  The current leader for the village is Niceville in Florida’s Redneck Panhandle.  “We might have to expand the airport!” frets the mayor, “but imagine the glory, the tourists, the vast opportunities for bribe money.  We’re all in!”

Just think of it, a Tragic Kingdom with six different sections.  Let’s call them Adventureland, Fantasyland, Frontierland, Tomorrowland, Liberty Square and Main Street, U.S.A., each with its own unique features.  Fantasyland would have its colossal duplicate White House where the kiddies could jump on the challenging Incumbency Ride with its miniature Resolute Desks.  Each desk would have its own pile of possible executive orders and a stamp pad, allowing little Johnny or Daisy to perform such important tasks as ousting the Toronto Blue Jays from the American League, sending all card-carrying transvestites to a bad clown camp outside Tulsa or dropping ten thousand stink-bombs on San Francisco.  There would also be a Pardon Pen in each inkwell in case anybody wanted to let Cruella de Vil, Captain Hook or Rudy Giuliani out of jail.  “Damn, Daisy---this is more fun than cutting the heads off your Hillary dolls.”

Frontierland & Beyond

Just because Disney has a Pirate’s Lair, there’s no reason Trumpy World shouldn’t have their own version, a gilded duplicate of Mar a Lago where guests could imagine being Donald for a day.  Everybody gets a big MAGA pirate hat which reads “Make Trumpy Rich As Croesus,” a slightly used blunderbuss and a cutlass.  Flintlocks cost extra.  Each day at ten a.m., the pirate galleon will leave its dock to lay siege to unsuspecting customers on the ill-fated Kamala Harris Riverboat Ride, who will be relieved of their cash, cell phones and eldest female progeny while a dashing quartet in spangles sings “The Winner Takes It All.”

All patriots visiting The Tragic Kingdom will be foaming at the mouth to visit beautiful Liberty Square, home of both the fake Liberty Bell and the faux Liberty Tree.  The time setting of Liberty Square is 1776 when the infant USA declared independence from Great Britain.  On each corner of the square, there will be a soapbox which jaded orators like Lindsay Graham, Steve Bannon and The Pillow Man can mount to spew their venom (fifteen minute time limit).  In the center of the square there are pews with kneeling pads surrounding a giant statue of Trumpy, himself, constructed with the remains of melted down voting machines.  Just outside the main square you’ll find the scary Haunted Mansion.  It’s said that on crystal clear nights when the full moon is bright, the spectre of Barack Obama can be seen chasing a frantic Tucker Carlson through the attic.  By the way, to maintain historical accuracy, Liberty Square intentionally has no bathrooms.  In case of an emergency, please use the Trumpy statue.

On Main Street U.S.A., that great street, I just wanna say…they do things they don’t do on Broadway.  This is where the kids are greeted by the long list of Trumpy cartoon characters like Marjorie Taylor Green as the Evil Queen Grimhilde who poisoned Snow White, the iconic Goofy (RFK Jr.), Dopey & The 204 Dwarfs (the GOP House members), perhaps even The Lady and the Tramp (Elon Musk and you-know-who).  The boulevard leads right up to Elon’s fabulous castle where heavily-armed sentinels man the 27 turrets in case any of you get funny ideas.  (Insider’s Tip: don’t tell anyone we told you this but that drawbridge over the moat can’t be pulled up like the one at Disneyland.  Just sayin’.

Welcome To Adventureland

No visit to Trumpy World is complete without a visit to Adventureland.  Here, guests can enjoy a fabulous Jungle Cruise, which starts on the Rio Grande River along our southern border.  Each kid gets his own fishing rod and is extremely likely to net a prize catch from the amply-stocked waterway over the course of the ride.  If a fisherman reels in an unsatisfactory immigrant on the first try, he is allowed to throw him back in and try again.  Mexicans are worth one point, Guatemalans and Hondurans two points and the slightly rarer Venezuelans are good for three…or you can forego the points and keep your immigrant if he is a medical professional, technology genius or golf pro.

Or maybe you’d rather take Aladdin’s Magic Carpet Ride over Arabland.  If you are one of those patriots who ask not what your Trumpy can do for you but what you can do for your Trumpy, you’ll enjoy soaring over remote OPEC oil depots and dumping your own personal projectile on the crude oil storage tank of your choice.  Successful combatants will leap up and down with glee when they see the brilliant flames licking the walls of the  devastated raghead refineries.  Free Charcuterie Bento Box lunches will be provided for all bombardiers.  Ride photos are twenty bucks.

It’s Almost Tomorrow

Okay, we admit it—the entrance to Tomorrowland might be a little scary, especially the dystopian landscape with pumped in sulfur fumes, the mass graves of disagreeable journalists and the large skeleton-bearing crosses of opposition leaders lining the boulevard.  Alas, progress is never made without a few sacrifices.

Soon the avenue opens up to sunny fields of wildflowers filled with uniformed children waving printed signs testifying “Freedom is Slavery!”  “Ignorance is Strength!”  “One People, One Nation, One Leader!”  All guests check in at the Proud Boys kiosk to have their papers checked and get their new ID tags.  Ironically, no guns or sharp metal objects are allowed.

Visitors are sorted into groups and directed to one of several different labor areas, including Oil Rig Installation Academy, the Secret Police bastion, the Abortionist rendering plants or the Statue-Polishing Brigade sometimes called Fox News.  Nobody goes to the beach.  Everyone goes to the Trumpy Rodeo, where wild-eyed cowpokes on fiery horses chase down anti-government sympathizers, lasso them and tie them on the backs of irritated bulls prodded by geeked-up rodeo clowns.

An octet of blonde, barrel-racing women enters the arena, preceded by a barely-clothed woman carrying the world’s largest American flag.  The women race one after another around the spaced-out barrels, faster and faster, until the horses fall from exhaustion and the women turn into butter.  Then, the crowd rises as one as the magnificent  Great Leader surges into the arena in a festooned orange chariot, waving madly to his public as the crowd goes berserk.  It’s the new life in Trumpy World, and you are there.

Of course, nobody has to go to Tomorrowland.  Nobody has to go to Trumpy World at all,  Not just yet.

That’s all, folks….

bill.killeen094@gmail.com 

     

   

   

The Methuselah Syndrome

We have mentioned Bryan Johnson before.  For the uninformed, he is a 46-year-old tech centimillionaire from what’s left of Venice, California who has spent most of the last three years in pursuit of a singular goal---refrain from dying.  There are others who aspire to a similar objective, but none like Johnson.  Bryan is serious as a glioblastoma, if you’ll pardon the mention of one of his adversaries.  He lives and breathes resistance to the alleged inevitable.  He is working on what he calls “the most significant revolution in the history of Homo sapiens.”  He’s not kidding.

If you’ve taken the trouble to become inordinately wealthy and every day is speck of heaven, you’d like to hang around for awhile.  Tycoons like Jeff Bezos and Peter Thiel are on that wagon, having invested early in Unity Biotechnology, a company devoted to developing therapeutics to slow or reverse diseases associated with aging.  Rich elite athletes employ therapies to keep their bodies young, using everything from hyperbaric chambers to cryotherapy salons to “recovery sleepwear” to keep the ball rolling.  But they are all pikers compared to Bryan Johnson and his 24/7 regimen.  Johnson is not just interested in staying rested or maintaining muscle tone.  Bryan is all about turning his whole body over to an anti-aging algorithm.  He believes death is merely optional.  He plans never to do it.

One of Johnson’s quests is to defeat his “rascal mind”---the part of all of us that wants to eat ice cream, drink beer with friends, try out that new motocross course.  He’s not having any.  The immediate goal is to transform his 46-year-old organs to look and act like those of an 18-year-old.  The doctors at his Blueprint company have already rewarded him with the bones of a man 30 and the heart of a 37-year old, or so he claims.  “Our experiments prove that a competent system is better at managing me than a human can.”  He describes his intense diet and exercise regimen as falling somewhere between the Italian Renaissance and the invention of calculus in the pantheon of human achievement.  Michelangelo had the Sistine Chapel, Johnson has his special green juice.  Michelangelo lived a sparkling 88 years, impressive in his day, but Johnson is going for the whole megillah.  Call him crazy, he just laughs.

The Plan What Am

Recently, a Time magazine reporter named Charlotte Alter showed up at Bryan Johnson’s door to take some notes.  “I wasn’t really there to figure out if his elaborate strategies actually worked,” she said.  “My own family history of cancer and personal fondness for pepperoni pizza put me on the short-term list.  I wanted to spend three days trying to see what a life run by an algorithm would look like and whether the next evolution of being human would have any humanity at all.  If living like Johnson meant you could actually live forever, would it even be worth it?” 

When Johnson wakes up, usually around 5 a.m., his routine begins.  First, he takes an erection-measuring device off his penis (he averages two hours and twelve minutes each night with some sort of erection---an eighteen-year-old averages three hours and fifteen minutes), weighs himself on a scale which uses “electrical impedance,” whatever that is, to measure his weight, BMI, hydration level, body fat and something called “pulse wave velocity,” which nobody but he understands.  He claims to be in the top one percent of humans when it comes to ideal muscle fat, and who’s going to argue?

Next, he turns on his light-therapy lamp, which mimics sun exposure, to reset his circadian rhythm.  After that it’s on to calculating his inner-ear temperature to monitor changes in his body, and popping two ferritin pills to boost his iron, along with some vitamin C.  He washes his face, uses a face cream to discourage wrinkles and puts on a laser light mask for five minutes, with red and blue lights designed to stimulate collagen growth and control blemishes.  Now it’s six a.m. and Bryan Johnson marches downstairs to start his day.

Here, the real fun begins.  Johnson starts with some special exercises to increase grip strength, then starts an hour-long routine.  He can leg-press an arresting 800 lbs, but most of his workout isn’t much more than you’d see from your everyday gym rat…a series of free weights, planks and stretches.  He does this seven days a week, adding high-intensity workouts on three days, sometimes wearing a plastic mask which measures his VO2 Max, or the maximum rate of oxygen consumption during physical exercise.  Bryan’s VO2 Max is in the top 1.5% of 18-year-olds, he claims without seeming to boast.  During this time, he sips on his Green Giant sludge and glugs down more pills.

After his workout, Johnson eats a meal of steamed vegetables and lentils that have been blended to resemble the color of a sea lion.  He offers visitors some “nutty pudding,” a combination of macadamia nut-milk, ground macadamia and walnuts, chia seed, flaxseed, Brazil nuts, sunflower lecithin, Ceylon cinnamon, pomegranate juice and a partridge in a prune tree.  It’s rust-colored and tastes a little dusty, but sacrifices have to be made in the interests of living forever.

Bryan Johnson insists it’s all about something bigger than getting ripped and maintaining a youthful glow.  “Most people assume death is inevitable.  We’re just trying to greatly prolong the time we have before we die.  I don’t think there has ever been a time in history where Homo sapiens could say with a straight face that death may not be inevitable.  Maybe now we can begin to make an argument.”

Au Contraire, Mon Ami!

We like Bryan Johnson’s gung-ho attitude, his willingness to sacrifice comfort and eclairs in the interest of health and a rosier future.  It’s a tough job, but someone’s gotta do it.  Personally, we like milk chocolate too much and we hate to pass a bakery with unimaginable hidden wonders.  Then there’s the real bummer.  Like the fraternity guy reluctant to take a shower because “what if I do and then my date doesn’t show up?”---we’d feel foolish to put in all that work and die anyway.

Dr. Pinchas Cohen, dean of the Leonard Davis School of Gerontology at the University of Southern California opines that while living much longer is certainly possible, living forever is not.  “There’s absolutely no technology right now that even suggests that we’re heading that way.”

“If you want immortality, you should go to a church,” suggests Dr. Eric Verdin, CEO of the Buck Institute for Research on Aging.  “If I believed even a smidge that it would be possible, I’d be jumping up and down,  It’s a pipedream.”  Verdin isn’t merely dubious of Johnson’s claims that he can achieve immortality, he’s skeptical of any claims of age-reversal altogether.  Verdin says, “We reached out to Bryan Johnson to collaborate on some research but we never heard back.  I think if he wants to be taken seriously then he’s going to be challenged by colleagues.”  For his part, Johnson says the Buck Institute never contacted him.

Civilization has seen few, if any major advances for which the pioneers weren’t ridiculed.  Say Bryan Johnson is right---not so much about eternal life but moving the needle to something like 120 years.  What would life be like for the first cadre of successful supercentenarians, watching all their friends and perhaps even their children die before them?  Is a life without all the people you love worth living?

Johnson says the question reminds him of senior night at high school.  “We say goodbye to all the friends we have been together with for years and probably won’t ever see again.  At every stage of life, we move through these transitional states of relationships and new experiences and at every stage you could pose that question.  Is it worth it to carry on?  Most of us answer in the affirmative.”

“I think the question reflects Homo sapiens in the 21st century.  The underlying assumption is that we all have roughly 70 years of life.  That’s their starting frame---I’m going to die soon and I can’t do anything about it.  My feeling is that I’m going to optimize this window of time---if you change the frame, none of the previous practiced thought patterns work.  I realize, of course, that we can only do so much.  Even though my mission in life is not to die, I still drive around L.A. every day.  Driving is easily the most dangerous thing most of us do.  What would be more beautiful irony than me getting hit by a bus and dying?  How embarrassing is that?” 

Food for thought.  Speaking on that subject, Siobhan, let’s pass right by the Dunkin’ Donut store today.

Forever Young

“May you build a ladder to the stars and climb on every rung.  May you stay forever young.”---Bob Dylan

There is little argument that Dr. David Sinclair is the most prominent and serious longevity expert alive today.  Sinclair is widely recognized for his extensive research on the biology of aging at Harvard Medical School, particularly focusing on the role of sirtuins in longevity.  He is the author of the book “Lifespan: The Revolutionary Science of Why We Age—and Why We Don’t.”  Dr. Sinclair holds a position as a Professor in the Department of Genetics and co-directs the Paul F. Glenn Center for the Biology of Aging, which is well-known for not employing nitwits.

David Sinclair believes that aging is a disease that can be cured.  He believes that aging is not inevitable and that it can be slowed down and reversed.  He believes in the basics---eating well, getting enough sleep, exercising, managing stress and avoiding smoking.  He also believes that aging is caused by cells losing critical instructions, rather than just accumulating damage.  Sinclair is an advocate of the plant-based diet with lots of polyphenols, such as berries, red wine, matcha, olives, beans, artichokes, chicory, red onion and spinach.  He takes 1 mg of spermidine every morning to mimic the effects of fasting and promote cellular waste removal.

David Sinclair discovered genes call sirtuins that extend lifespan in organisms from yeasts to humans and he found sirtuin activators in red wine and elsewhere.  Why do we age?  Sinclair’s theory is that aging is caused by poor information transmission in cells, which can be fixed by greater sirtuin function.  He says that we can take sirtuin activators every morning and eventually chemicals that will safely reprogram our genes to restore youthful vigor.  Is aging merely a disease, as Sinclair believes?  Fair question.  One Charles Brenner says no.  Brenner is inaugural A.E. Mann Family Foundation Chair at the Department of Diabetes & Cancer Metabolism, Beckman Research Institute of City of Hope in Duarte, California.  Here’s what he says:

“There are three basic facts about aging that are not addressed in Sinclair’s book.  First, all vertebrate animal species have a distribution of natural lifespans that are limited by their gene sets.  Human longevity seems to top out at 120 years.  Second, animal gene sets evolved to allow individuals to acquire food, avoid predation, find mates and successfully reproduce.  Long-lived species like humans also provide a substantial investment in caretaking of offspring until they can obtain food, avoid predation and reproduce for themselves.  The advantages conferred to youth by parents mean that genetic selections for parental health are extant in caretaking species.  Such genetic selections for post-reproductive health are not extant in non-caretaking species.

Finally, for animals that can mate multiple times, longevity is an emergent property of the ability to continue to do all the things required to reproduce and promote success of offspring.  Animal gene sets have been subject to genetic selections for guile, strength and famine-resistance but haven’t been directly selected for longevity because, as a rule, animals are able to successfully reproduce when they are relatively young.

Is aging a disease?  It is not.  Can it be modified by genes and environment.  Certainly.  Aging is very easy to accelerate---by smoking, obesity, infectious diseases, etc.  It’s much more difficult to slow it down.  Restricted access to food helps.  Exercise helps.  But nothing actually reverses aging.  Early reports of sirtuins extending lifespan in invertebrates could not be independently replicated.  Sinclair makes innumerable non-evidence based statements about the benefits of time-restricted eating, age reversal as evidenced only by changing biomarkers and even potential immortality by repeatable drug treatments.  The latter statements are particularly shocking because one of the drugs used to lower biomarkers of aging was human growth hormone, which is clearly defined by genetics as a pro-aging molecule.”

Aw shit, Doctor B.  How to pour on our parade!    Here we were making plans for our 120th birthday party on the Moon and kicking the football around with our great great great great grandchildren.  You get to be Champion Bummer at the big die-off dance.  Please---leave now---you’re making us cry.

Where There’s Life, There’s Hope

Proven ingredients for Life-Extension Pie:

1.---Nutrition & Lifestyle. There’s evidence aplenty that boring stuff like eating properly, not smoking, restricting alcohol and eating a truckload of fruits and vegetables on a regular basis will get you 7 to 14 more years than people who do the opposite.

2.---Physical Activity. Globally, inactivity directly causes roughly 10% of all premature deaths from chronic diseases like coronary heart disease, type 2 diabetes and various cancers.  Just over 30 minutes a day of moderate to vigorous activity is enough for most people.  Not only does it make you stronger and fitter, it has been shown to reduce that rotten inflammation stuff and improve mood.  And no, you can’t get any from Gina Hawkins.

3.---Boosting the immune system. However fit you are, alas, your immune system will get less effective as you age.  Blame the thymus, that bow-tie shaped bastard in your throat, that starts to wither.  The thymus is where all those nice T-cells gather ‘round the campfire at night and learn to fight infections.  No campfire, no chance for the Ts to learn to recognize new infections or fight off cancer in geezers.  You can help a tad, though, by making sure you take enough vitamins, especially A and D.  A promising area of current research is looking at signals the body sends to help make more immune cells, particularly a molecule called IL-7.  We may be able to soon produce drugs that contain this molecule.  Also, don’t forget the spermidine, which triggers immune cells to clear out their internal garbage.

4.---Rejuvenating cells. Senescence is a toxic state that cells enter as we age.  It wreaks havoc across the body, generating chronic low-grade inflammation and disease, essentially causing biological aging.  In 2009, scientists showed that middle-aged mice lived longer and stayed healthier if they were given small amounts of rapamycin, which inhibits a key protein called mTOR that helps regulate cells’ response to nutrients, stress, hormones and damage.  In the lab, drugs like rapamycin make senescent human cells look and behave like their younger selves.  Everyone went nuts over rapamycin, including Bryan Johnson, who took it for five years, testing various protocols (5, 6 and 10 mg dose schedules, biweekly at one time).  Eventually, he ditched the drug after getting skin and soft tissue infections, abnormal levels of fat in his blood, elevated blood sugar and a higher resting heart rate.  Because rapamycin suppresses the immune system, side affects can include dangerous bacterial infections, pneumonia, cellulitis and pharyngitis according to Dr. Oliver Zolman, who works with Johnson.  Perhaps an acceptable dose of rapamycin might someday be determined but for the time being newer drugs such as RTB101 that work in a similar way (and can even reduce COVID infection) will keep rapamycin on the bench.

5.---Clearing out old cells. Completely getting rid of senescent cells is another promising way forward.  A growing number of lab studies in mice using senolytics show overall improvements in health in the critters and they’re definitely living longer.  In a small clinical study, people with severe lung fibrosis reported better overall function, including in how fast they could walk after they’d been treated with senolytic drugs.  Researchers are hopeful senolytics will lead to a cornucopia of new treatments.

Okay---get out there and battle.  Take your spermidine medication, stay out of Bubba’s BARBQ and join up with Richard Rahall’s Offroad Bicycle Rangers.  Don’t pay attention to that song which tells you to keep your skillet good and greasy all the time.  Watch those riptides, keep your partners happy and always remember to check your PIE weekly.  It could be a matter of 120 years of life or death.

Eighty-four years and counting…

bill.killeen094@gmail.com   

Sorry You Missed It

Most of us know when the Rolling Stones are in town or the football Gators are duking it out with the hated Tennessee Volunteers.  Nobody’s going to miss the flashy UF Homecoming parade or Jeannie Uffelman’s annual naked post-Christmas bike ride down University Avenue.  We try to stay up to watch the ball drop in Times Square on New Year’s Eve, get tickets for the grandkids to see Taylor Swift if she shows up somewhere within 300 miles or take in the brilliant holiday Nights of Lights in old St. Augustine.  But sometimes we forget things, happenings we wanted to see or know about which slipped through our withering memory banks.  Ah, but never fear, that’s what The Flying Pie Department of Little Wonders is for.  We might not always be able to alert you in time to participate, but we’ll always be here to tell you what you missed.

The Museum Of Bad Gifts

Mounted on the walls of Toronto’s Northern Contemporary Gallery like pieces of fine art are some peculiar pieces which are strangely remindful of less popular Christmas presents.  The collection is called The Museum of Bad Gifts, doomed presents which didn’t make the cut, sadly rejected by the giftees after moments of introspection and disappointment.  Included are a framed fragment of cat food packaging, a stolen hotel bathrobe, a gingerbread man made of Astroturf, a carafe made from a cow’s hoof, a Muppet calendar CD-ROM and a drinking glass adorned with the words “Wine is win with an ‘e’ on the end.”

“Bad gifts are a universal experience,” Shari Kasman, one of the exhibit’s curators, tells a Toronto Star reporter.  “All around the world, people are receiving bad gifts, whether given out of obligation or bad judgment.”  Ahead of the one-week end of the year exhibit, the gallery put out a call for appropriate submissions, explaining that the definition of a bad gift is completely subjective and that all bad gifts should be celebrated equally.  As Kasman admits to CBS News, “One person’s bad gift is another man’s gem.”

Kasman contends that organizing the show came with unique challenges, and participants had their own quandaries to contend with.  What if the gift-giver has since died?  Does that elevate the quality of the present?  What if a giver is alive and sees their gift in the gallery?  Oh-oh.

“Be they given out of obligation, wild misjudgments in character or pure apathy, bad gifts hold a special place in our hearts and in our homes,” the gallery declares on the exhibit website.  “Many of us feel compelled to keep these gifts, even though we don’t want, need or like them.  The Museum of Bad Gifts will place the culprits on center stage as we celebrate their glorious awkwardness, the chaos of holiday consumption and the rituals of giving/receiving.” 

Hopefully, coming soon to a museum near you.  Probably not.

While You were Sleeping….

1.---South Korea gave us a lesson on how real democracy works.  After Republic of South Korea President Yoon Suk Yeol got hot under the collar and declared martial law, that country’s government impeached him and inserted Acting President Han Duck-soo, possibly because he has a much better name.  ROK prosecutors also indicted the country’s defense intelligence commander Moon Sang-ho for conspiring with Yoon in the failed attempt at martial law.  The two plotters have been exiled to the municipality of Baengnyeongdo and put on a strict diet of rice and silkworm larvae.

2.---Spry residents Marjorie Fitterman, 102 and Bernie Littman, 101, found love in their new digs at a Philadelphia nursing home after their longtime spouses passed away.  After dating for nine years, they tied the knot, becoming the world’s oldest newlywed couple according to Guinness World Records, which knows about these things.  “They keep each other young,” testified Rabbi Adam Wohlberg, a professional exaggerator who officiated at the ceremony.  The happy couple received numerous gifts from admirers, including a lifetime supply of Viagra, matching walkers and an all-expenses-paid trip to the Spam Hall of Fame.

3.---Carnivorous squirrels were finally outed.  Most of us conscientiously swerve to avoid those cute, fluffy-tailed rascals stuffing their faces with nuts, but now University of California at Davis researchers have photographed the critters viciously digging into rodent flesh.  Ground squirrels were recorded hunting, killing and eating small rodents called voles, the first documented evidence of the animals lusting after meat.  “I’ve never trusted those pesky bastards,” said Florida herpetologist Will Thacker.  “Now it’s just the voles, but they’ll be coming after us next.”

4.---An Alabama woman is doing well after the latest experimental pig kidney transplant.  Towana Looney is the fifth American given a gene-edited pig organ, freeing her from eight years of dialysis, and she’s not nearly as sick as prior recipients who died within two months of surgery.  “It’s like a new beginning,” snorted Looney, 53, as she mucked about her sty.  “I have amazing energy and the mud baths are great.  I’ve developed a much healthier desire for vegetables and roots and I never realized how much fun it is to play with an empty 5-gallon water jug.  Life is good.” 

5.---Early in January, 468 West Palm Beach citizens showed up dressed as dinosaurs at the Cox Science Center and Aquarium to break the Guinness World Record (previously 252 dinos) held by a group in Los Angeles. That number was dwarfed by 3000 dino-clad celebrants in Drumheller, Alberta, the unofficial Dino Capital of Canada, who flooded the city’s streets wearing inflatable dinosaur costumes in an earlier attempt to make history.  Alas, the best-laid plans of men and raptors often go awry and Drumheller’s record-breaking effort was disqualified due to a technicality in properly identifying and tracking participants.  Bummer.

Throw Granny From The Plane, A Kiss, A Kiss…

Don’t fool around with Lily Ifield, especially on her birthday.  Lily thought she’d celebrate her 79th by taking a four-day jaunt from England to Turkey on a cozy Jet2 flight which offered lunch if you wanted to pay for it.  The lunch, which cost a hefty nine pounds, turned out to be a cold, soggy sandwich.  Ms. Ifield said nuh-uh.

The miffed flight attendant said, “Madam, this is not a restaurant, it’s an airplane.  You cannot just return your meal.”  Okay then, just leave it there, instructed Lily; “I’m not paying.”  Other members of the flight crew urged her to change her mind but Lily crossed her arms in protest.

Highly offended, the cabin crew notified the Bodrum airport police and arranged for the heinous criminal to be escorted from the plane upon landing.  Ms. Ifield, a proud grandmother from Ware, West Herfordshire was very amused by the attention.  “A cadre of police were standing at the entrance to the plane with guns drawn, like they were waiting for Jack the Ripper.  It was all very entertaining,” reported Lily.  “I turned around to others departing and told them ‘I think I’m being arrested over a sandwich.  I’m being treated like a criminal over a bap.’” 

The airport police, previously unaware of the nature of the crime and highly embarrassed, were last seen giving a stern lecture to the flight personnel before departing in a huff.  Lily made the front page of the Bodrum Echo.

Take Me For A Ride In Your Blimp Blimp!

Finally, here’s an event you still have time to enjoy, especially if you need some car tires and feel a little lucky.  For the first time ever, the Goodyear Company will give three fortunate citizens a chance to win a flight on its iconic blimp.  Each winner will get a certificate for two passengers that can be redeemed at any of Goodyear’s three U.S. bases, which are in Pompano Beach, Carson, California and Akron, Ohio, plus a $3000 voucher for travel and accommodations.  How often do you get a chance to visit beautiful Akron?

The contest is called “Buy for a Chance to Fly,” but despite the title all you have to do is visit on Goodyear.com or through Goodyear’s Auto Service or Just Tires network.  No purchase is necessary, but it couldn’t hurt.  Entries must be submitted by 11:59 p.m. EST on April 10, 2025.  You must be a U.S. citizen 18 or older to enter.  Winners will be drawn on or about April 18.

Only a meager 0.00006% of Americans, about the population of Toad Suck, Arkansas, have flown in the Goodyear Blimp.  The first exotic flying machine, a helium-filled non-rigid airship named Pilgrim, was seen in the skies in 1925.  Goodyear’s blimps have been used to protect ships and escort vessels in World War II and in peacetime pursuits.  In 1955, a blimp flew over the Rose Parade for its first aerial broadcast.  Since then, blimps have covered events across the country including the Super Bowl, the Indianapolis 500, various New Year’s Day bowl games, the Kentucky Derby, the World Series, the Olympic games and the Gainesville Flying Pig Parade.

The Goodyear blimps are 246 feet long, 65 feet wide, 19,780 pounds without helium and 100-200 pounds with, and have a top speed of 73 mph.  The passenger gondola seats up to 14 people.  And yeah, we know about the Hindenburg, but that was then and this is now.

By the way, if anyone has a crispy old ticket from the Hindenburg’s last flight, the Museum of Bad Gifts is drooling to talk to you.

That’s all, folks….

bill.killeen094@gmail.com

News Of The World

“I don’t know much about art, but I know what I like.”---Gelett Burgess

No, we are not making this stuff up.  A banana duct-taped to a wall recently sold for 6.2 million dollars at a Sotheby’s auction in New York.  The “conceptual art piece,” whatever that is, was sold to a goober named Justin Sun, who obviously has too much cash on his hands.  Sun, wouldn’t you know it, is the founder of a cryptocurrency platform called TRON.  Of the sale, he said the art piece called Comedian “represents a cultural phenomenon that bridges the worlds of art, memes and the crypto community.”

The Comedian, alas, will not be hanging on any walls or even lasting very long because Justin Sun promptly ate it.  After the sale, he remarked. “In the coming days, I will personally eat the banana as part of this unique artistic experience, honoring its place in both art history and popular culture.”  Oh.  And what did you do with the duct tape, Justin?

The auction saw bidding start at a piffling $800,000 and increase to multi-millions within minutes, the auctioneer imploring bidders “Don’t let it slip away.”  Lucius Elliot, head of contemporary marquee sales at Sotheby’s said there had been much debate over “whether this is art, whether it is a prank, whether it is a symbol of the excess of the art market.  In truth, it is of course all of these things.”  If you say so, Lucius.

Comedian originally became a viral sensation in 2019 when Italian artist Maurizio Cattelan debuted it at Art Basel Miami Beach.  Festivalgoers tried to make out whether the single piece of fruit stuck to a white wall with silver tape was a joke or a cheeky commentary on questionable standards among art collectors.  Comedian quickly erupted into a viral global sensation that drew record crowds and social media inundation, eventually landing on the front page of The New York Post.  Then one day, somebody ate it…so Justin Sun is not even getting the original banana, just a scandalous imitation.  Don’t worry, though, because he’s also getting a certification of authenticity that gives him the authority to duct-tape another banana to a wall and call it “Comedian.”

Local fruit magnate Will Thacker, who has been toting around his own banana for 54 years now, has a better offer.  “For a mere FIVE.2 million, I will untape my banana from a wall and even chew it up FOR you!  No fuss, no muss.  And I will give you a much better certificate, with cursive calligraphy by Master Hsing Yun of the Fo Guang Shan Buddhist order.  Better act today, though, this particular banana is looking a little pekid.”

The moral of the story is, as we already knew, one man’s bucket of cash is another man’s banana.  We subscribe to the old quote by the inimitable Shihari Saravanan: “Art is a lie that makes us realize the Truth.”  You couldn’t put anything past good old Shihari.

The Return Of Barney Google

“Barney Google, with the goo-goo-goo-ga-ly eyes…
Barney Google had a wife three times his size…
She stood Barney for divorce, now he’s living with his horse…
Barney Google, with the goo-goo-goo-ga-ly eyes!”---Billy Rose & Carl Conrad

Despite all indications to the contrary, Barney Google lives.  Otherwise, how to explain the sudden spate of Googly Eye sightings in Bend, Oregon, where the comic eyeballs have been popping up on statues and murals, causing a viral sensation.

This doesn’t sit well with the grouchy administrators of Bend.  “While the Googly Eyes placed on the various pieces of art around town might give you a chuckle, it costs money to remove them with care to not damage the art,” the city alleged on social media.

Au contraire, posted fans of the Googly Eyes.  “It costs nothing if they just leave them there,” argued an eyeball supporter on Facebook.  Another added, “My daughter and I went past the Flaming Chicken (a nickname for Bend’s “Phoenix Rising” statue) today and got the biggest laugh.  We love the Googly Eyes.  This town is getting too stuffy, let’s have fun!”

So far, Bend has spent a piffling $1500 to remove the eyes from seven of the eight statues impacted.  The city’s communication director, Rene Mitchell, says it’s the adhesive on the Googly Eyes that’s causing the problem.  “We really encourage our community to engage with the art, but we have to protect it.  We need to bring awareness to the people that applying adhesives does harm to some of the art pieces which are made of different types of metal such as bronze and steel.”

You heard her, GE boosters.  Stick to Scotch Tape in the future and the Googly Eyes shall rise again.

“My Kingdom For A Dumpling!”

Despite the arrival of the twenty-first century, China continues to be a mystery.  Odd things happen there, like strangers in elevators making fun of you for being single and/or fat.  The Chinese prefer their drinking water warm and that extends to their Diet Coke and even beer.  In China, it’s the men who have long fingernails, a status symbol illustrating that they don’t have to work in the fields all day.  More recent is a trend of mothers-to-be wearing cumbersome radiation vests to protect the unborn child from supposedly harmful computers, TVs and mobile phones and the radiation they emit.  More enlightened Chinese doctors advise the vests are not only useless but potentially harmful to the baby.  None of this compares, however, to the fanaticism of some Chinese students for soup dumplings.  That’s right, soup dumplings.  Imagine how they’d feel about pizza.

Locals in Zhengzhou have estimated that up to 200,000 young people called the Night Riding Army have taken to renting bikes at night to ride 37 miles to Kaifeng for the city’s famous guantangbao, a type of soup dumpling.  Recently, police in Henan province were forced to close the highway blocked by the dumpling-lovers.  Liu Lulu, a student at Henan University, told the China Daily that “People sang together and cheered for each other while climbing the hills together.  I could feel the passion of the young people.  And it was much more than a bike ride.”  One observer posted on social media: “Last night’s Night Riding Army was spectacular.  Two lanes were opened, but that simply was not enough…the cycling army accounted for four.  It was glorious!”

Apparently, the phenomenon started in June when a mere four young women from Zhengzhou made an impromptu journey for the dumplings and described their adventure on social media.  It caught on quickly, “like ‘Where The Boys Are’ in Fort Lauderdale,” said one Henan U. cosmopolite.   Ah, unpredictable China, where elevator insults are rife and dumplings rule.  Rave on, you Asian rebels!

Have Some Guinness….

With another year in the books, it’s critical we look back at the monumental achievements of 2024 as assayed by the dependable statisticians at Guinness World Records.  It was yet another sterling annum for odd accomplishments, not the least of which were these:

1. Smallest Washing Machine.  Sebin Saji of India smashed the GWR for tiniest washer when his minute appliance was officially measured at 1.28 inches by 1.32 inches by 1.523 inches, which is even smaller than a Tamagotchi digital pet or the budget of Estonia.  In order to qualify for the record, Mr. Saji had to demonstrate that his washing machine was fully functional and could run a full cycle---wash, rinse and spin.

2. Largest Building In The Shape Of A Chicken.  The Campuestohan Highland Resort, located in Occidental, earned the trophy with its new rooster-shaped edifice which stands at 114 feet, 7 inches high.  Owner Ricardo Cano Gwapo Tan said the shape of the building, which features 15 air-conditioned hotel rooms. is a tribute to the local gamefowl industry.

3. Longest Paddling Journey By A Pumpkin Boat.  Hand that award to good old Gary Kristensen, a clever Oregonian who hollowed out a pumpkin he named Punky Loafster and tootled 45.67 miles down the Columbia River to break the old record.  Kristensen, who faced strong winds and unstable water during his journey, printed the words “IT’S REAL” on the side of his pumpkin to assure viewers they weren’t seeing things.

4. Fastest 10 Meters On A Skateboard By A Cat.  Bao Zi, an American shorthair cat belonging to Chinese dog trainer Li Jiangtao, showed off his shredding skills by skateboarding 10 meters (32.8 feet) in 12.85 seconds.  Bao Zi was originally purchased to help deal with a rodent problem at the Li residence but his new owner noticed how intently the cat would watch while he was teaching his dogs to skateboard.  “Those hounds can’t even do a 180,” hissed the champ.

5. Highest Car Bungee Jump.  You’re not going to believe this but Laurent Latsko, a professional stuntman and race car driver, sat in the driver’s seat of a Nissan Qashqai e-Power vehicle while it was dropped from a crane at a height of 213 feet, 3 inches.  The brazen car bounced up and down  many times at the end of bungee cord before coming to rest, setting a new world record.  “I believe I’ll skip dinner,” reported Latsko.

6. Fastest Motorized Wheelbarrow.  British mechanic Dylan Phillips, a confirmed wheelbarrow racer, hit the tarmac at Straightliners Speed Week 2024 at Elvington Airfield in Yorkshire with his latest custom-built vehicle, a souped-up wheelbarrow, and blazed a record-breaking 52.58 mph down the runway.  “Getting the barrow up to speed is scary,” Phillips admitted, “but the real issue is slowing down”  No wonder, since the odd contraption only has brakes on the front.

Obviously we horse farmers, locked into a utilitarian past, haven’t been getting a full measure of entertainment from our wheelbarrows. Live and learn.

That’s all, folks….

bill.killeen094@gmail.com