Letter of Intent to the Homeowners Association

Dear Homeowners Association,

As we approach the fall season, you are no doubt aware that we homeowners will be carrying out certain tasks to ready our homes and yards for cooler weather -- tidying up falling leaves, making sure gutters are in good condition, sealing the entire outside of the house in Super Saran Wrap to keep out stink bugs, etc.  

Ha ha, of COURSE we are not serious about that last item. Well, not entirely serious. We're sure you will agree that there are other, less dramatic methods of dealing with this insidious, disgusting creature that will soon be trying to invade our homes, our cars, our attics, our gardens, our bathrooms, our pantries, the very highest levels of our government -- oh, sorry.

Anyway, we would like to submit, for your consideration and approval, a proposal to apply one of these less dramatic methods to protect our home, keeping in mind that if denied, we COULD always fall back on that Saran Wrap idea.

Mindful that the association must uphold strict, thoroughly logical and impartial guidelines for all homeowners, we graciously offer several options, all of which would be entirely organic. We propose keeping, on our property, an organism that has been shown (according to various .com sites, all VERY reputable sources) to enjoy feasting on stink bugs.

According to these authorities we have consulted, a number of animals -- we use this term in a very general sense, as you will see -- would be helpful in our bid to oust our enemy. Here, we list them and give a brief overview of their relative suitability for combatting stink bugs and for life in the community environment.

1. Chickens. Advantages: Like to peck at things, like (hopefully) stink bugs. Drawback: If they don't work out as stink bug predators, they really don't make good guard pets. Bonus: If they don't work out as stink bug predators, they can double as dinner.

2. Turkeys. Advantage: Big and mean. Drawback: Big and mean. 

3. Chickadees. Advantage: Perhaps a suitable alternative to both the chicken and the turkey, a chickadee being basically a small chicken. Bonus: Superb "cute" factor.

4. Peacocks: Advantage: Like very large turkeys, but prettier. Bonus: Their tendency to emit a very unfortunate screech may act as a deterrent to neighborhood crime. Drawback: May cause car accidents if seen from road.

5. Skunks. Advantage: Their tendency to emit something much more unfortunate than a screech may, in fact, convince the stink bugs that they could never compete, and may scare them off. Drawback: This feature may also scare off the entire neighborhood.

6. Black widow spiders. Super Saran Wrap doesn't sound so bad all of a sudden, does it? 

We breathlessly await your reply. In the meantime, we may just saunter down to Costco to stock up on Super Saran Wrap...

Yours truly (unless you rule against us),

Beach activities for the bored and restless

Ah, the beach in late summer. A perfect time to relax, soak in the sun and surf, and make keen observations about your fellow beach goers, most of which will likely lead to totally erroneous conclusions. But what is a beach for, if not to dare to do great things, though failure be inevitable?

As our interest in our reading material waned on a trip to the beach recently (Mr. Monk Helps Himself, How I Became a Quant: Insights from 25 of Wall Street's Elite), and feeling that we should take some interest in our surroundings, the Hero and I began to engage in constructing stories -- as well as a highly detailed family tree -- about the party in front of us. (It must be admitted that the Hero probably would not have embarked on this activity without some encouragement from me.)

This party consisted of six individuals: two men, one woman, and three kids. Both men had dark hair, and we differentiated them as Curly-Haired Dad, based on an obvious physical trait, and Parking-Meter Dad, based on the latter's departure at one point to "go feed the meter." Curly-Haired Dad was obviously the father of the blonde girl, Maddie. We knew this was her name the same way everyone within earshot knew it was her name: "Maddie! Let's see what the water's like!" "Okay, time to get out of the water, Maddie." "Maddie, just sit down and relax for a while." "That's enough pouring water on people's heads, Maddie," etc.

Parking-Meter Dad was, we brilliantly deduced, father to the other two children, whose names he did not need to broadcast to the entire beach, as they basically sat and quietly scratched at the sand for a long time. The girl, about 9, stood around in full clothes, shoes, and socks, while Parking-Meter Dad carefully laid down three overlapping towels. "There," he said grandly to the girl. "Your sand-free environment awaits."

I turned to the Hero. "I wouldn't mind a sand-free environment," I said. This was ignored.

But the young blonde woman was a mystery. "Hmmm," I said. "She's young...doesn't really seem comfortable enough around the kids to be a mom...maybe a nanny? But two dads? Do they share her?"

But then I noticed the wedding ring on the "nanny's" finger. And heard the blonde girl call her "Mama." 

"Scratch the nanny, I guess," the Hero said.

"Okay," I said, switching gears. "Parking-Meter Dad is single. Probably the two couples were friends, and then the divorce happened, and now the other couple is trying to support the dad in his new solo role."

"Two couples? Divorce?"

"Parking-Meter Dad doesn't have a wedding ring," I said. "So, no wife, ergo, he's divorced. The other couple must have been friends with them."

"Maybe they're related," the Hero suggested.

"Mmm-mm, they don't act like they're related. More distant. Friends."

At this point Parking-Meter Dad admonished Maddie for getting sand all over the carefully planned sand-free environment.

"So, Maddie is Parking-Meter Dad's daughter," the Hero said.

"No, Parking-Meter Dad belongs to the two dark-haired kids," I said.

"Then why is he telling Maddie what to do?" 

"Everyone wants to tell Maddie what to do," I said. "I want to tell Maddie what to do. Or not to do."

I noted that Parking-Meter Dad seemed unwilling to be affectionate with his two children. "Hmm," I mused. "I wonder if that's why his wife left him...?"

The Hero began making noises about leaving me to go get some lunch, and we had to abandon our musings. There was much more to be mused upon...like how unusually quiet Parking-Meter Dad's kids were, and how the girl seemed utterly uninterested in engaging fully with sand or surf, and why Blonde Woman did not get involved with any of the kids, and why the three kids didn't really play much together...

I'm sure eventually we'll come up with something.

Bring your pets into the twenty-first century

Americans today have more leisure time than at any other period in history. We now enjoy roughly the same amount of free time as dogs do (96.7% of a typical day), and some of us are closing in on cats (99.6%) and the French (102.4%).

Although our furry friends (here we are NOT referring to the French) have, for generations, proven themselves perfectly capable of filling all this free time with mindless activity, certain forward-thinking individuals posit that they might be tired of wasting time in the same old, time-honored dog and cat ways. This mindless activity, they say, should be brought into the 21st century.

We are talking apps here. Apps specifically designed for dogs and cats. And why not? What do cats and dogs do all day that wouldn't be enhanced by doing it on a several-hundred-dollar piece of technology? Cats already know how to swipe; put a virtual fly on the screen and let them go at it. Dogs bark at anything (and nothing) -- why not a one- or two-inch mailman?

So far, says one individual whose dog has tried several apps for iPad, "none of the activities have been real useful. But then, most of MY activities on the iPad aren't real useful, either."

While the fuzzy among us learn to waste time in high-tech mode, perhaps we should take some tips from THEM and spend our free moments just relaxing...sleeping in a shaft of sunlight, say, or romping and chasing sticks, or licking...um, never mind. Maybe some things just aren't meant to cross species.

A hair-raising decision

Certain conditions recently have compelled me to engage in a strenuous search for an expert in a very demanding field, someone akin to brain surgeons with their attention to detail, steady nerves, and ability to carry out delicate, lifesaving work. I have been looking, in other words, for a hair stylist.

As many women can attest, this is not a task to be taken lightly. When women look for a hair stylist, they are looking for more than someone to provide hair care. They are looking for someone they can build a relationship with. Someone who understands their moods AND their hair's moods. Someone they trust with their LIFE.

Men, of course, also value experience in their hair person: "You cut your dog's hair once with a nail clipper when you were a kid? Great. I'm in."

Of course this is not true of ALL men. Some look for someone with sharp tool experience AND cheap prices.

For women, the arduous process involves asking other women they know and trust and whose hair styles they admire where they go to have their hair done, asking women who are total strangers whose hair styles they admire where THEY go, poring over websites and magazines for the perfect style and--not recognizing any of the photos as being of real humans--giving up in disgust, performing background searches on potential stylists, and finally choosing this one--wait, no, choosing THAT one--or maybe that other one? It's enough to make one pull one's hair out, in which case these is no longer a need for a stylist's services.

For men, at least three exhausting rounds of rock, scissors, paper are required before THEY can make a final choice.

Hmmm, maybe they have something there...

Hold the taste

It seems the pendulum can never stay too long in the middle, no matter what it is swinging for. Take food. Just when many people are embracing a more natural, local, know-what's-in-your-food-and-where-it's-coming-from eating lifestyle, we hear that the future of food is really in a) petri dishes and b) 3-D printers.

Let's start with petri dishes (mainly because the 3-D printer thing largely eludes my ability to grasp it). Scientists have succeeded in growing, from actual cow muscle cells, a Five Guys burger. Okay, a Five Guys burger minus the lettuce and tomatoes and onions and cheese and everything else that really makes it a Five Guys burger, including, according to three tasters who recently sampled the very first petri-dish burger, much of the taste.

The lab-produced burger is being billed as possible way to meet the projected need for meat around the world, which by 2050 is estimated to way outnumber actual cows. Making burgers in a lab is also intended to give the environment some much-needed R&R, drastically decreasing the need for land and water as well as emissions from, er, methane-expelling animals (cows' digestive systems are, according to one source, "especially effective at producing large amounts of methane"). 

The burger in a lab dish is also touted as a way to provide food for individuals in developing countries, who need cheap, reliable, protein-rich foods, just what the petri dish burger delivers -- well, except for the current price tag of, um, $330,000. Per burger.

But more important, the burger doesn't yet taste like a burger, despite the addition of salt and pepper and egg powder and breadcrumbs. Apparently it is missing that essential burger flavor: fat. Scientists say not to worry, that can be remedied. So if anyone asked you to donate some extra fat...just kidding! Of course they would use fat from a more natural source...grown in the dish with the muscle cells.

So, maybe the petri-dish Five Guys burger isn't quite ready for a mass rollout just yet. But the real question is: Do you want some 3-D-printed fries to go with it?

Stay tuned...

Please pass the toilet paper

The news is full of dire subjects these days -- unemployment, furloughs, royal babies receiving unfortunate names with absolutely no say in the matter. It's always a good idea, when facing difficult situations such as these, to be reminded that really, all things considered, we should be glad we don't live in Venezuela. 

I say this because recently the people in Venezuela faced a truly grave situation: a critical shortage of toilet paper.

Now, these are people who are used to a scarcity of basics such as milk and sugar. But there are basics, and then there are basics. Toilet paper is one of those basics. This shortage cuts to the core rights of individuals to pursue life, liberty, and soft tissue for their bums.

The shortage has been variously attributed to price controls, malicious intent by anti-government forces, and mischievous pygmy monkeys. Logically, of course, it is easy to see that only one of these choices can be the actual reason: malicious intent by pygmy monkey anti-government forces.

But possibly there is another, simpler explanation. Perhaps the youth of the country, bent as they are in any culture on making it known that they are a force to be reckoned with, by any means necessary -- including but not limited to wearing underwear on the outside of their pants -- are stockpiling the precious toilet paper for some future nefarious purpose, such as TP'ing government buildings or wearing it over their underwear over their pants.

Or, we could go with the pygmy monkey theory. The monkeys could, after all, be in cahoots with the youth. And they would look cuter wearing the toilet paper.