Bonus

Tell me, someone ... anyone: How does this work?

It had been a long day of manual labor and I looked forward to being done. The workload was minimized to a point of manageability and, with just a few more hours' effort, the project would be complete.
 
I got an e-mail indicating a little surprise I wasn't expecting until sometime next week had suddenly come in: The Godfather Collection I ordered through my local library was at the ready! All three films plus bonus material. Boom!

The Godfather is one of my favorite films. Part 2 is right behind it on that list. And while I'm not thrilled with Part 3 ... if it comes piggybacked in the collection? I'll take it. And! Bonus material, too! I've yet to see any of the extras so surprise, surprise! I have something to look forward to on a Saturday night!

I finish my work, jump in the shower and it's off to the library to collect my spoils.

"Good afternoon. I was notified some DVDs came in for me today?" I asked the lady behind the counter at the library.

"I'll get them for you" she told me.

She returned after a moment with an over-sized, see-thru DVD package. But it appeared there was only a single disc inside it. I picked it up and opened it and that's all it was: A single DVD.

And it wasn't The Godfather.

It wasn't The Godfather Part 2.

It wasn't even The Godfather Part 3.

It was the bonus disc of the collection. That's it.

"This can't be right," I noted to the librarian. "This is just the extras for The Godfather Collection. No films at all. Are there more DVDs you might have missed?"

"No ... I think that was all being held for you. That's all you got?" she asked. "Wasn't it supposed to be The Godfather Collection?" she asked me. "Let me check ... just to make sure ..."

She left and came back with nothing more than a frown. "I can't believe that's all they sent. Let me see if I can get the others gathered together. Unfortunately, I won't be able to get them until sometime next week ..."

I figured that from the moment I saw the bonus disc.

.......... Ruprecht ( never even got the chance to STOP the movie )

Stopping Alzheimer's Cold

For years I've been operating under an incorrect assumption. (And yes ... for lack of a better term, I will call it "an incorrect assumption," a proper term for what I've supposedly known it as and used it as all this time.)

I'm talking about one of my hated foes of the English language, acronyms.

More to the point I'm talking initialisms, not acronyms. But, in reality, I'm talking both. It's taken me half my life but I finally know the difference.

A friend of mine - Jim Fitzsimons - called me out on my use of "damned acronym" during an on-line discussion recently when, in fact, I should have said "damned initialism." The term in question I was referring to was "TANSTAAFL," something of which I hadn't the faintest clue. I would be duly educated on both the term and what it was, however.

Now to be fair, up until being corrected I didn't know the meaning of "initialism." Oh, I'd heard the word before but I'd never used it, either in speech or in writing ... until being called out, that is. Come to find out, I've been referring to initialisms as acronyms for a long, long time.

Having damned TANSTAAFL, I was immediately warned by Jim he was about to ram a pedantic moment down my throat. Now while I appreciated the fair warning he supplied me with, I was doubly appreciative of the educational moment there in more so. That was when I learned the difference between an acronym and an initialism, courtesy of a Penn & Teller video he provided. (Later, I topped what I'd learned with additional research on both terms along with some information gathered on "TANSTAAFL" itself.)

I'm a big believer - and advocator - of life-long learning. I try to learn something new every single day. (It's a not-so-secret bent of mine that, in so doing, I will effectively thwart any intimations of Alzheimer's disease wishing to take up residence inside my brain in my later years. Yes, I might be deluded about such prevention ... but why tempt fate? If you know me, you know I can use all the help I can get.)

So ... I *hrumphed* while coming to the conclusion I didn't know what I was talking about when it came to what I thought I knew to be an acronym and my obliviousness to initialisms, but I am all the wiser now in knowing the down and dirty on both.

Thanks, Jim. Keep foisting your pedanticalness on me. 

Someone's got to watch out for me and call me on what I think I know.

.......... Ruprecht ( 's ignorance was STOPped cold in its tracks with a little help )

Strange Brew

It's no secret I love my morning coffee. That fresh aroma assaulting the senses when a new container is cracked open. The waft of brewing Joe as it makes its way through the morning air. That first sip caressing the taste buds. All thoughts to make you smile. 
I don't obsess about coffee by any means. I simply enjoy my morning cup or three.

But this might be the first time I've ever dreamt about coffee.

Early this morning, I had a vision of being in the kitchen getting ready to prepare a pot. I opened a coffee container and scooped out the proper amount to put into a filter. Then, strangely, I opened the lid to a large crock pot sitting on the counter to get water for my coffee. Why I was getting water out of a crock pot I have no idea. In the dream it wasn't a concern, there was nothing wrong with doing so.

As I took the lid off the pot, I noticed it was filled almost to the brim. I pulled some sort of utensil from a drawer to extract water but, before I did, I saw something begin to float to the crock pot's surface.

It was a packet. A packet of Ramen noodle seasoning.

It was still sealed and hadn't contaminated the water in any way so I reasoned the water was still good to go.

But then another appeared. And another. And yet another.

Suddenly I could tell there was more than just seasoning packets in the water. I spied one containing horseradish beneath the others. And I thought I saw one made of see-thru plastic with mustard in it. There was a soy sauce.

All of a sudden a thick, intertwining mass of half-cooked noodles slowly began to break the surface. Still, this didn't seem that strange to me. I figured the water could still be used to make my morning brew.

It was only when an obviously opened parcel of Indiana Jones Spicy Mix (whatever that was) trailing its contents into the liquid and around the noodles did I finally come to the conclusion the water wasn't going to cut it ...

.......... Ruprecht ( STOP )

Despite this morning's dream, Rupe is drinkin' Joe ...

 

 

Hot And Hotter

I'm known as a stickler when it comes to the news. 

So make certain you have your facts straight and up to date when you shoot information out to the public. 

It's not that I'm trying to be difficult or the ass of the day. Far from it. I just feel if you're serving the general public you have a duty in getting the information you report correct. The reasoning behind that speaks for itself: You're more likely to be thought of as reliable, timely and believable. 

Even if it's nothing more than a 3° differential.

.......... Ruprecht ( STOP mistaking 2 digits for 3 digits )

Euphemisms Are Us

I'm skeptical so I call "euphemism" ...

.......... Ruprecht ( STOP bouncing )

The Passing Of Calvin And Hobbes

When Bill Watterson's Calvin & Hobbes came out in the mid-1980s, I immediately gravitated to it. Watterson's artwork conveyed rhyme and reason and enjoyment throughout the 10 year run of the strip.

It was with great sadness I saw the strip end 10 years later. It was a daily joy to pick up my beloved Los Angeles Times each day and head for the comics section of the paper to see what Calvin was up to, what trouble he got him self in.

I was especially pleased when my favorite characters were present in the strip: hordes of snowmen - sometimes marauding, sometimes decapitated, sometimes menacing, always hilarious - and Moe, the schoolyard bully who always had it out for Calvin. And Spaceman Spiff ... who didn't want to be Spaceman Spiff ... ?!?

There have been hundreds of well-written articles on the characters and the strip. Quite a few accolades. Discussions and analysis and documentaries all dissecting what made the comic readable, funny, touching. Calvin and Hobbes was like no other strip before it and there hasn't been one like it since.

And then this piece came out a few days ago. Reading it, it brought tears to my eyes, not only because of its content, but also in remembrance of all those strips that came rushing back, strips which will forever be engrained in my mind and loved for the lessons and humor they taught. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Calvin? Calvin, sweetheart?"

In the darkness Calvin heard the sound of Susie, his wife of fifty-three years. Calvin struggled to open his eyes, God, he was so tired and it took so much strength. Slowly, light replaced the darkness, and soon vision followed. At the foot of his bed stood his wife. Calvin wet his dry lips and spoke hoarsely, "Did ... did you ... find him?"

"Yes dear," Susie said smiling sadly, "He was in the attic."

Susie reached into her big purse and brought out a soft, old, orange tiger doll. Calvin could not help but laugh. It had been so long. Too long.

"I washed him for you," Susie said, her voice cracking a little as she laid the stuffed tiger next to her husband.

"Thank you, Susie." Calvin said.

A few moments passed as Calvin just laid on his hospital bed, his head turned to the side, staring at the old toy with nostalgia.

"Dear," Calvin said finally. "Would you mind leaving me alone with Hobbes for a while? I would like to catch up with him."

"All right," Susie said. "I'll get something to eat in the cafeteria. I'll be back soon."

Susie kissed her husband on the forehead and turned to leave. With sudden but gentle strength Calvin stopped her. Lovingly he pulled his wife in and gave her a passionate kiss on the lips. "I love you," he said.

"And I love you," said Susie.

Susie turned and left. Calvin saw tears streaming from her face as she went out the door. Calvin then turned to face his oldest and dearest friend. "Hello Hobbes. It's been a long time hasn't it old pal?"

Hobbes was no longer a stuffed doll but the big furry old tiger Calvin had always remembered. "It sure has, Calvin." said Hobbes.

"You haven't changed a bit." Calvin smiled.

"You've changed a lot." Hobbes said sadly.

Calvin laughed, "Really? I haven't noticed at all."

There was a long pause. The sound of a clock ticking away the seconds rang throughout the sterile hospital room.

"So ... you married Susie Derkins." Hobbes said, finally smiling. "I knew you always liked her."

"Shut up!" Calvin said, his smile bigger than ever.

"Tell me everything I missed. I'd love to hear what you've been up to!" Hobbes said, excited.

And so Calvin told him everything. He told him about how he and Susie fell in love in high school and had married after graduating from college, about his three kids and four grandkids, how he turned Spaceman Spiff into one of the most popular sci-fi novels of the decade and so on. After he told Hobbes all this there was another pregnant pause.

"You know ... I visited you in the attic a bunch of times." Calvin said.

"I know."

"But I couldn't see you. All I saw was a stuffed animal." Calvin's voice was breaking and tears of regret started welling up in his eyes.

"You grew up old buddy." said Hobbes.

Calvin broke down ad sobbed, hugging his best friend. "I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry I broke my promise! I promised I wouldn't grow up and that we'd be together forever!!"

Hobbes stroked Calvin's hair or what little was left of it. "But you didn't."

"What do you mean?"

"We were always together ... in our dreams."

"We were?"

"We were."

"Hobbes?"

"Yeah, old buddy?"

"I'm so glad I got to see you like this ... one last time ..."

"Me too, Calvin. Me too."

"Sweetheart?" Susie's voice came from outside the door.

"Yes dear?" Calvin replied.

"Can I come in?" Susie asked.

"Just a minute."

Calvin turned to face Hobbes one last time. "Goodbye Hobbes. Thanks ... for everything ..."

"No, thank you Calvin." Hobbes said.

Calvin turned back to the door and said "You can come in now." Susie came in and said "Look who's come to visit you."

Calvin's children and grandchildren followed Susie into Calvin's room. The youngest grandchild ran past the rest of them and hugged Calvin in a hard, excited hug. "Grandpa!!" screamed the child in delight.

"Francis!" cried Calvin's daughter, "Be gentle with your grandfather."

Calvin's daughter turned to her dad. "I'm sorry, Daddy. Francis never seems to behave these days. He just runs around making a mess and coming up with strange stories."

Calvin laughed and said, "Well now! that sounds just like me when I was his age."

Calvin and his family chatted some more until a nurse said, "Sorry, but visiting hours are almost up."

Calvin's beloved family said good bye and promised to visit tomorrow. As they turned to leave Calvin said, "Francis. Come here for a second."

Francis came over to his grandfather's side, "What is it Gramps?"

Calvin reached over to the stuffed tiger on his bedside and held him out shakily to his grandson, who looked exactly as he did so many years ago. "This is Hobbes. He was my best friend when I was your age. I want you to have him."

"He's just a stuffed tiger." Francis said, eyebrows raised.

Calvin laughed. "Well, let me tell you a secret." Francis leaned closer to Calvin. Calvin whispered, "If you catch him in a tiger trap using a tuna sandwich as bait he will turn into a real tiger."

Francis gasped in delighted awe. Calvin continued, "Not only that he will be your best friend forever."

"Wow! Thanks grandpa!" Francis said, hugging his grandpa tightly again.

"Francis! We need to go now!" Calvin's daughter called.

"Okay!" Francis shouted back.

"Take good care of him." Calvin said.

"I will." Francis said before running off after the rest of the family.

Calvin laid on his back and stared at the ceiling. The time to go was close. He could feel it in his soul. Calvin tried to remember a quote he read in a book once. It said something about death being the next great adventure or something like that.

His eyelids grew heavy and his breathing slowed. As he went deeper into his final sleep he heard Hobbes, as if he was right next to him at his bedside.

"I'll take care of him, Calvin ..."


Calvin took his first step toward one more adventure and breathed his last with a grin on his face.

- tickled

Scoring

Here's a fundamental truth:

"You've got to give a little to get a little."

It doesn't matter who you are. It doesn't matter your background. It doesn't matter where you live. It doesn't matter your station in life. Black or white, short or tall, male or female ... it works across the board.

"I earned my vacuuming badge today."

"Why do men always want points or badges for housework? My husband always wants some kind of bonus points!"

"Same reason women want acknowledgement from men when they talk to us about things they already know the answer to ..."

"Seriously? If I asked for points for everything I did I would always be asking for points. I ripped the entire living room apart, edged everything and kicked the living crap out of it. And I cleaned the vacuum out before I did it because that rarely seems to get done. If there was a Boy Scout badge for that chore I would have earned it today."

"The fact of the matter is: Everyone wants acknowledgment in some way, shape or form. Question why someone wants it and you doom the person from doing it again for you. Accept it, acknowledge it with a little pat on the back (verbally or in badge form) and be on your way. Look at it this way: You win, no matter what."

.......... Ruprecht ( won't STOP earning points, either )

Acknowledgments to Mr. Bailey