It's Nuts.

After a brutal two-week stretch (two murder trials (one guilty, one not guilty), and lots of kid-related issues (not out of the woods yet, but improving)), things are settling down a bit. I've at least gotten a chance to catch my breath. And to, once again, note the ridiculous stuff that abounds.

For example: It is accepted lore that America is litigious. That's actually a testament to the freedom we have here, and is generally a good thing, but even I have some limits. Toby Keith mentions the infamous coffee case in "American Ride". Some lady spilled coffee on her lap, and got a ton of money suing a fast-food restaurant for not warning her that coffee is, well, hot. I've looked into that matter a little, and, it's not as stupid as it seems. Most people like their morning coffee hot; however, during that time years ago, that particular restaurant chain had increased the temperature well above "drinking" hot so that it would be "drinking" hot ten minutes or so later when you got the coffee home. That's not just "hot"; that's scalding hot. Something the folks at management apparently knew from some previous incidents they'd had nationally. The lady was apparently burned pretty badly, and the high verdict also included some punitive damages (which still, as I understand it, represented, like, one day's coffee sales from that chain). Anyway, having said that, even I have my limits.

Hence, the peanuts. Some people are allergic to peanuts, and they get sick if they get exposed to them. Sometimes peanuts are used in recipes and allergic folks are unaware of it, and they get sick. those folks should be given a heads-up if their Chinese chicken is packing peanuts. But if you ask your flight attendant for a pack of peanuts, do you still need a warning? See? I got these on an airplane last month (I really should go through my stuff more often...). You know they're peanuts because the package says "peanuts".

This is the back of the pack (something with which I am familiar as a runner). It's got the nutrition information on it, and, in case you didn't read the much larger information on the front, the ingredients: Peanuts, salt. You figure that be enough. But, no.

I was shocked- SHOCKED!- to learn that my pack of peanuts, consisting of peanuts and salt, was "produced at a facility that processes peanuts and other nuts". Sheesh.

Been Busy, III

Two murder trials in two weeks, plus personal stuff going on. Sheesh. A dude needs a break. Know what I mean?

Having a Korea Day.

Last week, my oldest son started what is supposed to be a year-long stint teaching English in Korea. How cool is that? He's residing in Ulsan, in the Southeastern part of the peninsula, rather than in the Capital, Seoul, but I couldn't find any songs about Ulsan.

I'm Not Feelin' Too Good, Myself.

The system works pretty well when everybody is doing their jobs right. This system didn't work very well this week. I wasn't feeling too great, and flipped open the Psalter in my copy of the Book of Common Prayer, randomly, and hit Psalm 82. Sleep was fleeting last night, so I got up around 5 a.m., and picked up the Psalter again and, randomly (or so I thought), hit 38:14. The current (1979) Episcopal Psalter is based on the 1535 English Reformation translation by Miles Coverdale, and is designed to be read aloud at services, so it doesn't always correspond exactly with the King James, New International or New American Standard versions. I like it a lot, and it pretty well told me where the problem was this week:

"But I have become like one who does not hear*
and from whose mouth comes no defense"

Not a good thing for a defense attorney.

No time to wallow, though. I've got another murder trial next week.

Olar. Que Pasa?

Yesterday, I had the distinct pleasure of travelling through Olar, South Carolina. Olar is located in Bamberg County, which is one of Colleton County's neighbors. I snapped this picture of the Bank of Olar. It was after 5:00 p.m when I drove by, so I can't say whether or not the Bank of Olar remains a going concern. I loved the Wikipedia entry on Olar. Among the information contained therein was the racial composition of Olar:

"On a side note: the census[1] of 2000, there were 237 people, 111 households, and 71 families residing in the town. The population density was 301.1 people per square mile (115.8/km²). There were 152 housing units at an average density of 193.1/sq mi (74.3/km²).The racial makeup of the town was 52.74% White, 46.41% African American, 0.42% Native American and 0.42% Asian. Hispanic or Latino of any race were 0.42% of the population".

So, Native Americas and Hispanics make up 0.42 percent, each, of the population of Olar. Okay, let's check the math. The population is 237 souls, so that'd be .0042 times 237 equals... er, one Native American and one Hispanic. Cinco de Mayo must totally rock in Olar.

Have you ever seen a dragon fly?

I saw this tough guy the other day. I used to see tons of 'em when I was growing up in Tampa. Mostly, I'd see them when I was at football practice. Sometimes I'd chase them during practice. This can't have made my coaches happy. I wasn't a bad football player, but focus was never my strong suit.

The Whirled Cup.

Apparently there was some sort of big soccer game yesterday. I say "apparently" with some hesitation, because it was not apparent through the radiowaves in the Southeastern United States (well, South Carolina and Georgia, anyhow). I took my oldest to Thomson, GA, where his cousin, Garrett, agreed to pick him up for a trip to Atlanta. Garrett's schedule put the pick-up time right smack dab in the middle of the World Cup, where The Netherlands faced Paul the Octopus' favored Spain in Soccer's biggest game. "Father", pleaded Son, "We can't leave now. The most popular sporting event in the entire world is being played!" We'll just catch it on the radio, I'd said. I'd forgotten myself. This is America, and not just America, but rural South Carolina and Georgia; the most popular game in the world is about seventh or eighth on the list, well behind NASCAR and high school football, but slightly ahead, perhaps, of Canadian Curling. We picked up the Atlanta Braves baseball club battling the second place Mets on six different stations, but not a whisper of soccer (well, actually, a whisper we did get: one very, very faint reference on a static-y station near Augusta).

Fortunately, Davis and I arrived in Thomson a good bit before Garrett did, and we decided to find the game in town. We looked high and low with little success, before deducing that, since Futbol is the most popular game in most countries, and since Spain was in the finals, that maybe a Mexican restaurant would be airing the game.


We deduced correctly. We popped into "Amigos", where ten or twelve Spanish-speaking sports fans were assembled to watch Espana battle the dirty-tactic Dutch.
"Who are you for?", asked three or four short but stocky Hispanics. "Espana, of course", I replied. Oldest was a little less aware of his surroundings, and said he liked the Lowcountries (or "Pais Bajo", as it said on the Spanish-language station we watched). "He's young", I pleaded, "The boy has no sense". It's a good thing that Spain prevailed; we were able to leave with our frijoles intact.

Rob and Dave's Excellent Adventure.

That's my oldest son, to the right, and my nephew, Rob, the taller fellow to the left. Rob took care of his cousin for the last few months. Put him up in Greenville while Davis looked for work. Davis'll be teaching in Korea soon, and he's moved out, but Davis lived with Rob since January. Rob is Davis' mom's sister's son. I'm divorced from Davis' mom, so what's Rob to me? Families are sometimes where you find them. Lots and lots of people in the last generation or two are divorced. So, what do you do with the in-laws after the nuclear unit is split? Former cousins, nieces and nephews you've loved for years, what are they? Seems like they're whatever we decide they are. My babymamma remarried years ago- and I'm engaged to a wonderful woman- but if you tell me that I'm not still an uncle to Rob, Shawn, Carrie and Garrett, I'll fight you.

Nailed.

Okay, some days I just don't have a lot to say.

Winning isn't everything; sometimes there's candy!

The University of South Carolina, as you may have heard, are the 2009-2010 NCAA baseball champions. The Gamecocks whipped up on perennial sports champions University of California at Los Angeles to take the crown. Announcers through the College World Series repeatedly pointed out that UCLA had won more college sports championships than any other college- something like 109 of 'em- in various sports. The only other championship that South Carolina had ever won before, according to So. Car's website, is the 2005 national equestrian championship. This got me thinking: how can USC capitalize on this? Well, sports merchandise, for sure; but, maybe now, finally, we can do what the 2009-2010 National Hockey League Champion Chicago Blackhawks did:

We can shill for penny candy!


Let's hear it for Lemon Head!