RobBob
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ChrisT, Oh yes you do! More yoga pics!
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This ain't PNW, but look at the wind and temps on Mt Washington in New Hampshire. mountwashington.org Nippy!
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Gates will have his own Inferno. Robber barons historically have not been happy individuals. Wasn't it JP Morgan who quit smoking cigars because he couldn't bear the idea of losing the time that could be applied instead to working to make more money? As the wealth curve rises, most of us just want more time to enjoy life.
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Snoboy piqued my interest re: knife and fork. According to "proper dining etiquette" rules: "There are two ways to use a knife and fork to cut and eat your food. They are the American style and the European or Continental style. Either style is considered appropriate. In the American style, one cuts the food by holding the knife in the right hand and the fork in the left hand with the fork tines piercing the food to secure it on the plate. Cut a few bite-size pieces of food, then lay your knife across the top edge of your plate with the sharp edge of the blade facing in. Change your fork from your left to your right hand to eat, fork tines facing up. (If you are left-handed, keep your fork in your left hand, tines facing up.) The European or Continental style is the same as the American style in that you cut your meat by holding your knife in your right hand while securing your food with your fork in your left hand. The difference is your fork remains in your left hand, tines facing down, and the knife in your right hand. Simply eat the cut pieces of food by picking them up with your fork still in your left hand." Last night my kids demonstrated the proper Simian style of dining, eating their spaghetti with fingers only.
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Other Lewis Carroll favorites of mine besides the Jabberwock are: The Walrus and the Carpenter here And this one: "YOU are old, father William," the young man said, "And your hair has become very white; And yet you incessantly stand on your head -- Do you think, at your age, it is right? "In my youth," father William replied to his son, "I feared it might injure the brain; But, now that I'm perfectly sure I have none, Why, I do it again and again." "You are old," said the youth, "as I mentioned before, And you have grown most uncommonly fat; Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door -- Pray what is the reason for that?" "In my youth," said the sage, as he shook his grey locks, "I kept all my limbs very supple By the use of this ointment -- one shilling a box -- Allow me to sell you a couple?" "You are old," said the youth, "and your jaws are too weak For anything tougher than suet; Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak -- Pray, how did you manage to do it?" "In my youth," said his fater, "I took to the law, And argued each case with my wife; And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw, Has lasted the rest of my life." "You are old," said the youth, "one would hardly suppose That your eye was as steady as ever; Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose -- What made you so awfully clever?" "I have answered three questions, and that is enough," Said his father. "Don't give yourself airs! Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff? Be off, or I'll kick you down stairs.
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That's funny, snoboy, my parents used to read us "A Child's Christmas in Wales" and we loved it too. I remember Thomas talking about writing "Mr. Daniels is a Spaniel" with footprints in a neighbor's yard. Having a next-door neighbor named Daniels, I promptly went out and did the same thing.
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The talk about Ayn Rand on another thread got me to thinking about what literature I like best and why. IMO the best writing is timeless---about things that most of us can relate to. And I like the power of pictures painted with few words. Here's a test for you. Who can name the author of this poem (without a websearch)? Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night. Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
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maybe so...I'm only going by claim of another. Now that I think about it, handedness really is an indicator of dominant brain hemisphere isn't it? So the only way someone would switch sides would be if their vision was impaired in what should be their dominant eye...or maybe if they are nearly ambidextrous.
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muffy, you're missing the point that has been stated and re-stated, that everybody likes you here...BTW, your and Erik's spelling get even worse while arguing. and what the hell has been going on here? I go away for a few days and apparently missed everything.
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trask brings up a good point. I'm left-handed, and left-eyed shooter as well. I've seen lefties who used shotguns right-handed because their right eye was their lead eye.
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sure, sc, but I know you know what I'm talking about. Weren't there things that you did as a kid that stuck with you as a "bolt of lightning" recognition? It stuck with you 'cause you did it yourself.
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Hey, IMO the life lessons come from the trial and error of doin' it yourself, not watching others. Maybe the best sports lesson learned as a kid comes from baseball: Learning to 'play the ball before it plays you.' It is the personification of Pindar's phrase "The test of any man lies in action." I believe that there are lessons to be learned from team sports. But the gratification in football quite honestly came from punishing the ball-carrier as often as possible. Nothing as satisfying as ca-wham nailing him as he swings wide or goes off-tackle. And this prurient thrill does not translate from doing to watching.
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To bastardize a quote from Sean Connery, losers were sittin' in the stadium, worrying about who's best. Winners were home fucking the prom queen.
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who was the college football player that several years ago acknowledged that he was "amphibious?"
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This may have been covered in the past, but I don't remember it. I am curious about the percentages of left- versus right-handers in this group. Count me as a leftie. Our brains are different. My father encouraged me to try golf as a kid. But he bought me right-handed clubs, saying that "some of the best golfers have been lefties that played golf right-handed." I found that to be BS, and (thankfully) never played much golf. So how 'bout it...left or right?
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I think I know where the Dwayner's coming from. I played football, loved the sport because it was a great channel for my aggression and because I was physically suited for it. But now it bores the shit outta me. Part of the reason is that it has become a gladiator sport, where the players are sacrificing their bodies by age 30 in hopes of financial fortune. They aren't everyday people. Plus I just don't want to sit on my ass for very long watching other people do things. I used to think that I got some good life lessons from football. Now I realize that baseball gave me the same ones. All I have to show from football is a chronically sore back and other misc injuries.
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Nobody seconded chucK, so I will. Any way to get the old Graemlins back?
