Sears Tower Attraction Closed

It's been a while since I wrote a satire article. This one, however, was inspired by personal experience.

Sears Tower Attraction Closed Due to Multiple Injuries

CHICAGO IL - A sudden rash of injuries has forced officials of Chicago’s Sears Tower to close its newly-opened attraction called “The Ledge”; a terrifying skybox in which tourists can stand in a glass-enclosed cubicle suspended 1,353 feet above the city sidewalks.

Within moments of its opening, emergency rooms throughout the greater Chicago area were inundated with patients, all of whom were men who had recently stood in the glass-enclosed tourist attraction.

Kyle Weinberg, 24, of nearby Skokie, Illinois, was one of the first emergency room patients to arrive at Northwestern Medical Center near the Chicago landmark. His attending physician, Dr. Selima Meyer explained:

“Mr. Weinberg’s injuries were typical of most of the tourists we treated that day. Apparently, the experience of stepping out on a glass ledge 103 stories above the ground causes some pretty intense reactions. In men, the shock is so frightening that it causes the testicles to violently retreat upwards, sometimes far within the abdominal cavity.”

“It was just horrible,” exclaimed Weinberg. “My girlfriend was just fine and didn’t know why I had suddenly buckled into a fetal position. I never want to go near the Sears Tower again.”

Dr. Meyer continued: “Once the adrenaline subsides, the testicles gradually descend. It may take awhile, but they’ll make an appearance again within a day or two.”

One of the many families visiting the new attraction on opening day was the famous Duggar Family from Arkansas who star in the popular reality TV series, 18 Kids and Counting.

Jim Bob Duggar, the father of the now-famous 18 children, was also treated by Dr. Meyer that day.

She reported, “Unfortunately, Mr. Duggar’s reaction was so acute that an otorhinologist (eyes, ears, nose and throat specialist) had to be procured for testicle retrieval. I’m afraid that The Ledge rendered Mr. Duggar completely incapable of ever fathering anymore children.”

Michelle Duggar, Jim Bob's wife, was seen pumping her fist upon hearing the diagnosis.

The Ledge had remained open for less than a week before officials were forced to close the new multi-million dollar attraction.

In Honor of M. Jackson

For decades, I have been a huge fan of M. Jackson’s music and performing abilities. They are astounding and it’s very rare that I’ve come across a musician of this caliber, especially one that can make me teary-eyed with each performance.

I’m certainly not referring to the M. Jackson that has been inundating every moment of the news lately. No, dear puppies . . .

. . . I am speaking of THE Mahalia Jackson, the Queen of Gospel.

Born in New Orleans in 1911, she was raised in a three room shack with 16 other relatives. Having been forced to leave school in the eighth grade to work and support the family, she moved to Chicago at the age of 15 to live with an aunt, make a better wage, and to leave the oppressive racism of the South.

Within a year of her arrival in Chicago, the young teenager’s singing abilities were well-know across the city’s African-American gospel churches. Her deep, resonant contralto voice and ability to move an audience quickly made her very popular with various preachers in Chicago.

Miss Jackson had a very unique style of ad-libbing a vocal line and it’s one I’ve never heard before. For example, most gospel singers will sing a note and then rise to a few higher notes in order to add emphasis.

Think about Mariah Carey singing “Amazing Grace.” Once she hits the note that contains the words “like me” she’ll ad-lib that high note and leap up to several other high pitches, (most of which can only be heard by a cocker spaniel in Peoria.)

Not Mahalia. When she wanted to emphasize the “me” in Amazing Grace, her ad-libbed vocal line would hit that high note and then tumble down, down, down into a warm, velvety richness that just leaves me in a big ol' puddle of goo. It’s so unique. High notes are always impressive (Mariah) but Mahalia marched to a different drummer.

To me, that’s a lot more impressive than doing a moonwalk.

Having been influenced so heavily by New Orleans jazz and blues in her formative years, Mahalia was constantly persuaded to depart from her gospel roots and become a Blues artist.

She never did. Even when her first recording in the 1930s with Decca flopped, she never would give up being a gospel artist. Eventually, the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences (Grammy Awards) added a new category “Soul Gospel” so that Mahalia Jackson could receive that elusive award.

She went on to receive six Grammys in her lifetime.

She never caved in to pressure to alter her style. How admirable is that?

When Mahalia Jackson passed away in 1972, guess who sang at her funeral?

. . . None other than the Queen of Soul, Aretha Franklin.

(I wonder what kind of hat she wore for the occasion)

So, in honor of M. Jackson on this special day, please listen to that most indomitable voice and soul.

Get some hankies ready.

New Cable Station

Why doesn't my cable provider just be done with it and provide a 24-hour Michael Jackson Channel?

MJC

Yes, his death was tragic, but come on!!!

I was never a much of a Michael Jackson fan anyway with all that squeaking and hiccuping.

There are other things are happening in the world.

I think something's happening in Nicaragua. Or Honduras. Who knows?

Sara Palin is up to some Sara Palin-esque things.

Do we really need to know the present-day whereabouts of Bubbles the Chimp?

Future Shock

When I was in the 7th grade in 1972, our Life Science teacher in my little bitty home town showed us an educational film called "Future Shock" that displayed all sorts of sensational events that were occurring at the time, and their implications toward the future.

This film displayed the testing of supersonic flight (The Concorde) robotics that displayed human behavior (the first production lines in Silicon Valley), a non-traditional wedding (a minister performing a same-sex union in California) and a City-within-a-City
(Marina City in Chicago)

Flash forward 37 years

Our fiscal year ended on the last day of June in which I had to submit my quarterly-and-year-end reports and budget requests and also comprise all the Memorandums of Understanding and Rental Agreements for my staff members who provide services for individuals with disabilities in unemployment offices throughout state -- and all this was after I had completed a 900-mile driving trip around the state to supervise my staff and submit all the reports. . .

Whew!!!

I went to work at 6:00 this morning and finished close to midnight.

Thank goodness for Grubhub.com

It's a fantastic service in which a tired and hungry city-dweller can hop online, enter in their address, enter in what type of food they prefer, and up will pop all sorts of options.

Neat-o!

It was 2:20 am, I was sitting in my shirt and tie, I was dead tired and knew I wanted a Chicago deep dish pizza to sustain me through the night and next day.

Within minutes, I was able to place my order online to the nearest and fastest Chicago deep-dish delivery service:

No phone call necessary . . .

One 16-inch deep-dish pizza with anchovies.
Charged to my credit card.
With a $5.00 tip included

At 2:30 in the morning

In less than an hour, my doorman was ringing my apartment

I was one dead tired puppy. It was the middle of the night, and yet I was able to finger a few keys effortlessly on my computer (and not speak to anybody) and have a lovely, deep dish, Chicago-style anchovy pizza appear at my doorstep within an hour.
_______________

Remember those educational films we got to watch when the teacher forgot to plan anything to teach us? We'd walk into science class, there would be the unexpected film projector set up in the darkened classroom and we'd all get excited over the fact that we wouldn't have to do anything that day!

But I can still remember one educational film called "Future Shock" that was depicted possible life in the future, but featured present-day (1972) events such as:
robotics in Silicon Valley, supersonic commercial flights, same-sex unions, and having computers delivering food for us.

And . . . while living in that Marina City place in downtown Chicago!

This film actually showed Marina City in Chicago as as futuristic "City Within A City"

They made it look horrible - - like we would be automatons living in these huge non-descript dwellings having our food procured by computers.

Me?????

No way.

Not in a million years.

Oh . . . one other thing. . . .

Would you like to know who that Life Science teacher was that showed us the film, "Future Shock" when I was in the 7th grade in 1972?

That was my mom!

Yes, my mom was my Life Science teacher in 7th grade.
It was wonderful and horrible at the same time. She made me stand in the hall for misbehaving. Twice
She made me study and get A's in her class (I made a 65 on one quiz and I'll never forget her raised one eyebrow while she penned my record in her grade book - - the whole class went "Oooohh"!)

I got straight A's during the seventh grade and, believe me, I earned ever one of them through a very loving, but very stern and structured method of education.

Since then, my mom has been a very popular columnist and writer for a newspaper in South Texas since 1981. She gets her writing abilities from me, naturally. My mom's had three volumns of her columns published and sold.

My mom is a wonderful, incredible, talented, and multi-faceted woman. She is in her mid-70s and still works as a public school counselor and writes her column every week prints it, and faxes it into her publisher every week.

My mom loves to fish along the Texas Gulf Coast and she's also a very spiritual woman. She's combined these two aspects into a reflective column that has been a weekly feature in a local newspaper in South Texas.

Her weekly column is called Oceans for Emotions and has been featured every Saturday in the Victoria Advocate since 1981. I'm have to admit that I'm a bit jealous of her. She's always given that paper a column every week for 28 years. Every editor knows her. When she was incapacitated, every person I spoke to knew my mom and was able to re-run her past articles. (I even wrote one in her absence and so did my cousin, Shannon)

Here is her most recent column. It features her and her new baby great grandson. .

"Behold, I and the children whom the Lord hath given me are for signs and wonders ."

Today, due to circumstances within my control, this is going to be a very short article.

You see, a little 6-month-old great-grandson is controlling my life, and the entire world around him as only a baby can.

Joseph lives way over the ocean, near London, with Joseph, his father, who is in the Air Force and his mother, Marilyn Elaine, my grandgirl. This is the first time the baby and I have met.

Baby Joseph has flown over the ocean, but has never seen it up close and personal. Taking on my responsibility of great-grandmothership, I just couldn't have this happen on my watch.

Off to see the sea we went. That sounds easy, doesn't it? After loading up my fishing gear, which usually fills my car, we had to load up Joseph's baby gear, and believe me, it was not an easy thing to do.

If his mother had allowed me to let him ride in an empty ice chest instead of that silly baby car seat, we would have had more room.

On the road trip down, the closer we got to the beach, the faster my heart raced. I could hardly wait to see his excited reaction to his first meeting with "Gran-Granny's" Ocean. All the way down there, I imagined his baby squeals and delights and other Oceans for Emotions.

After adorning him with his swim Pampers, swimsuit, his very own fishing hat and lathering him with the slickest sun screen ever made, Gran-Granny carried him to waters edge with cell phone cameras, digital cameras, and video cameras, all focused upon us, Joseph and I slowly entered the ocean.

After a few kicks and splashes, I felt him relax in my arms and he went to sleep. I think he thought he had returned to the safety of the womb from whence he came. Isn't that really why we all love our Oceans for Emotions?

Dear Lord, Thank you for all the children that you have given me "for signs and wonders" in this life and for all the oceans you gave me to share with them.

________

Today, due to circumstances within my control, this is going to be a very short artiYou see, a little 6-month-old great-grandson is controlling my life, and the entire world around him as only a baby cHow she got this photo of her?And her great-grandson ?

Home Improvements

You know, I think I have a new hobby and it’s one that I never thought I’d have.

Home Improvement.

I went the hardware store on my lunch hour and was surprised to find that I was awfully excited and looking forward to it.

Oh my goodness, I’m turning into Hank Hill.

It all began when I moved into my new apartment and painted the walls. They looked so nice and it was the first time I ever lived anywhere that didn’t have white walls. I love it.

Then, I decided to paint the bathroom only to discover that some repairs needed to be done to the walls. I’m usually oblivious to my surroundings, but in prepping the bathroom walls, I discovered that there had been some water damage. The previous renter had done a really bad repair job – basically festooning large amounts of caulk over the whole deal.

So in order to paint, some repairs needed to be done. This was told to me by Speck who has become my home-repair-and-painting guru. She’s been a godsend and is obviously very knowledgeable about these things. She’s also been very gracious about my panicked phone calls to her while aimlessly meandering through the aisles of Ace Hardware.

So, today I obtained some more supplies with which to make my bathroom a stunning showcase. I’m presently learning about caulk. I bought the caulk squirt-thingy (which, by the way, looks like a huge tube of cake decorating icing) and made sure to get the clear, anti-mildew caulk stuff.

While reading the directions, I discovered that I needed a caulking gun. I really didn’t like the idea of purchasing anything even remotely related to a firearm, but I bucked up and bought one anyway. I sort of got the caulk squirty-tube stuck in the gun while trying it out in the store but managed to pry the two apart.

I’m going to do a lot of painting this weekend, so a bought a cool little paint bucket that has a hand strap and a magnet to hold the paint brush. They only had red ones and I really would have preferred a blue one.

My painting skills still lack the requisite precision so I also bought several touch-up brushes. They’ll come in handy, I’m sure.

I noticed that the the hardware store had a section of clothing, too. I almost bought some overalls and work boots but decided that I better not push it.

I hope I’m not overdoing this painting thing in my apartment. So far, I’ve got six different colors going on:

Van Deusen Blue
Burlap
Hazelnut Cream
Crushed Velvet
Tootie Fruity (which is really “apricot”)
White

So, yes, I’m all excited about completing these home repairs.

If the caulk around my bathtub ends up resembling a Cornelli lace pattern, you'll know that my cake decorating skills sort of took over.

Billy Mays

Needless to say, I was pretty shocked to hear of Billy Mays' passing recently. Yes, those commercials were extremely irritating – so much so, that I had to write the following satire piece a few years ago.

I know it’s really bad taste to make fun of someone who recently passed, but please keep in mind that the shrill, irritating voice we hear on the Oxy-Clean and KaBoom commercials is not his normal speaking voice. I don’t know why those producers had him speak that way, because it really does make me hit the fast-forward button every time those commercials come on.

BTW – KaBoom is fantastic stuff and I’m never without it in my apartment. It smells really good too.

So, since that’s not his normal speaking voice, please know I’m poking fun of the commercials and not the man. I commend the man for marketing products that keep our messy lives so clean and tidy.

Christian Peace Activists Rescued by Billy Mays
By Buckner Wheat
Mar 25, 2006

BAGHDAD – The dramatic rescue of three Christian peace activists by U.S. and British forces on Thursday was made possible by the deployment of psychological weaponry that promises to end the rash of kidnappings impeding the spread of democracy in Iraq.

The activists—James Loney and Harmeet Singh Sooden of Canada and Norman Kember of England—were kidnapped on November 26, 2005, while driving to meet with Sunni Arab leaders. The men were held hostage at a compound on the outskirts of Baghdad.

"We were at the end of our rope," reported Maj. Gen. Rick Lynch. "We really did fear that each one would be killed eventually—until we discovered a new secret weapon. ”

Maj. Gen. Lynch smiled and opened a sound file on a nearby laptop. "Hi! Billy Mays here for Oxy-Clean!" screamed a grating, high-pitched voice.

"Every time one of that guy's commercials comes on, my immediate response is to hit the fast-forward on my TIVO as quickly as I can," said Maj. Gen. Lynch.

"Whether he's selling OxiClean, OrangeGlo, or Kaboom, his voice literally makes me want to thrust a serrated knife through my eye socket to end the torture. That's how I got the idea to utilize his commercials as an effective weapon."

Maj. Gen. Lynch explained how the new weapon was used to thwart an attack by sixty gunmen on a police station near Baghdad two weeks ago.

"After a three-hour gun battle, we saw that we weren't making any progress. So we tried broadcasting the Oxy-Clean commercial at mega-watt volume from our command center."

Immediately, all sixty insurgents began running around in circles, bewildered and terrorized, pleading for the painful tirade to cease. "We ended up catching fifty of 'em in the crossfire," said Maj. Gen. Lynch. "It was pretty cool."

Apparently, continued exposure to Mays' shrill, piercing voice results in nausea, vomiting, acute diarrhea, convulsions, and death among certain non-native speakers of English.

According to British foreign secretary, Jack Straw, Thursday’s military rescue followed "weeks and weeks of very careful work by military and coalition personnel in Iraq, and many civilians as well."

"We had been working on this rescue for four months to no avail," added Maj. Gen. Lynch. "But after five minutes of blaring Billy Mays' voice into the compound, we could hear blood-curdling screams of 'Shi-Kabbalah, Shi-Kabbalah' coming from inside."

Fortunately, Sergeant Dan Henderson, a member of the rescue team, is fluent in colloquial Arabic.

"Basically, 'Shi-Kabbalah' is a local slang term for diarrhea," said Sergeant Henderson. "It's tough to translate, but, roughly, it means 'shish kebabs-on-tap.' Once I heard that, it was pretty clear that the kidnappers would be occupied for a while, and I told Maj. Gen. Lynch we should make our move."

"As expected, the captives were found unguarded, their kidnappers having vanished," reported Maj. Gen. Lynch.

"Billy Mays’ voice could be the key to turning this war on terrorism completely around. Its applications are boundless. This is the kind of good news from Iraq the press ought to be reporting."

We Actually Went to the Cat Circus

Oh my goodness -- how can I begin to explain how fun it was to attend a performance of the Circus Cats??

Words cannot begin to explain. Really.

I’ve attended a lot of entertaining theatrical performances in my time. A lot.

I saw Leonard Nimoy play the psychiatrist in the original cast of Equus and George C. Scott play Willy Loman in Death of a Salesman when I was only sixteen. I saw Bette Midler perform in 1975 when I was (waaay) underage.

I've seen dreadful Dada performances, horrible modern dance interpretations of Kandinsky paintings, and just about every incarnation of unadulterated nudie-bits onstage. (And even one or two backstage.)
I even lived in New York City when “experimental theatre” meant that the cast kept their clothes on.

Bottom line -- I’ve seen it all. . .

But, I must say that it’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed going to the theatre more than I did on Saturday afternoon when I had the pleasure of seeing The Circus Cats (Yes, the “Cat Circus”) here in Chicago.

I don’t know why I enjoyed it so much, but I did.

The performance began, not with cats at all, but with all sorts of other trained critters: -- we began with several huge tightrope-walking rats, processed to a chicken with obvious many years of stage experience, then a creepy meerkat-sort-of-thing, and segued to a very talented woodchuck that could raise a flag on command -- all these were just the overture for the feline headliners.

Really -- a woodchuck that could. . . . I'm not making this up!

The performances of the 13 pussycats were truly impressive; that goes without saying. Miss Healthypants, our friend, Diane, and I scored some really excellent seats (second row, left). I laughed and was amazed during the entire thing.

Fortunately, my little video camera worked pretty well and I was able to document the following performances . . .

Here is a feline performer balancing a ball on a tightrope.


Then, here is a new kitten stealing the show.



And, then, the Grand Finale -- The RockCats! Yes! Four cats who actually play in a musical group! You’ve got to see it to believe it. You've got to see this. It's too cute:



Well, as you can see, it was all about the food for these guys. But still, we were able to get our photos taken with the lead guitarist afterward!

How often does that happen? Really! Especially when the crowd was, like, close to a hundred people (I will admit that we wedged a number of parents and little children out of the way to obtain these photos) - - but still . . . photos with the lead guitarist . . .

Here is a close-up of the fine feline. . .
Here she is with Diane . . . (It's an all-female cast. Apparently, male cats cannot be trained.)
And with Miss Healthypants . . .
Yes, I’ve seen a lot of theatre in my time. Like I said, I think I’ve seen it all.

But with the Circus Cats, I had the unexpected pleasure and unalloyed joy of feeling, once again, like I was an amazed little kid at the circus .

After all, how often in this life do we have the opportunity to have this much fun with our fellow creatures?

Footnote - all the cats in the circus were "rescue cats" and the producer brought plenty of other housebroken cats with her to be adopted, so there's that.

Michael Jackson

Yesterday afternoon, I got a pop-up from CNN alerting us that Michael Jackson had suddenly died of a heart attack.

I then went to join a small staff meeting and said, "Did you guys hear that Michael Jackson just died?"

None of them had heard it yet so I was the one to receive all the reactions:

Really??

Oh my god!!

Where did you hear this??

Sigh . . .

. . . I love attention.

Because, after all, it really is all about me, isn't it?

A Cat Circus??

Miss Healthypants and our friend, Diane, have talked me into doing something I never thought I’d ever be doing.

On Saturday, we’re attending a Cat Circus.

You read that correctly - - a Cat Circus.

(Iwanski isn’t going. I am)

We tried to attend a few months ago, but are you ready for this? - -

. . . It was sold out!

When I told my dad about it, he said, “You mean like lions and tigers?”

“No, Dad. Like pussycats . . . . House cats,” I replied.

Diane and Miss Healthypants are awfully excited over it, especially since we missed out the last time the Cat Circus came to town.

I’m sure you’re wondering what takes place at a Cat Circus.

Well, so am I!

Will there be a couple of trapeze artists tossing a cat between them, somersaulting it through the air with the greatest of ease?

Will there be cat clowns or feline acrobats?

Will they shoot a tabby cat out of a cannon?

These are all questions I’m willing to get to the bottom of. So, I'm going to the Cat Circus on Saturday.

At least I will be with good friends. That’s the main thing.

I will keep you all posted.

Dvorak Update

I realize that no one is really interested in my conversion to the Dvorak keyboard. I've been told this by concerned friends and relatives who love me -- thank you very much.

But I crossed a little milestone today -- 60 wpm with no errers.

Memories of Hemisfair '68

Back in 1967, the city of San Antonio was abuzz with activity as it readied itself to host the first ever world’s fair to be held in the Southwest - - Hemisfair 68. Seattle had set the bar pretty high back in ’62 with its Space Needle and monorail, so San Antonio was doing its best to follow suit.

My little bitty hometown in Texas was about seventy miles from San Antonio and I was absolutely obsessed with Hemisfair 68. Just like Seattle, Hemisfair was constructing a tower and a monorail system as well.

We would often travel to San Antonio and I would always have my nose to the car window so that I could note the construction progress on the “Tower of the Americas” as it was to be called.
I had read that it was going to have a rotating restaurant at the top and a glass elevator going up the side. Wow!!! I was one excited 8-year-old kid.

I loved building things with various types of my construction toys. (I could make an Erector Set just sing.) So, I got to work with my super-duper sized set of Tinker Toys and built a replica of the new tower, complete with spinning restaurant and elevator. (Mine was completed before theirs was, too)

Finally, in April of ’68, Hemisfair opened to the world!

We attended soon after it opened and I couldn’t wait to ride the monorail. I loved anything on tracks (trains, trolleys, roller coasters) so a real live monorail was awfully exciting to me.

The monorail was about 1.5 miles long and twisted its way through the various sights of Hemisfair Plaza. As it went around each bend, the thing would lean to the side – the wrong side. For example, as it curved to the right, it would lean to the left. It made me a little nervous and I was thinking, “This just isn’t right.”

Every time a monorail train would glide by overhead, I would stop and examine the wheel mechanisms underneath. I spent an inordinate amount of time doing this, but I just had to see how the darn thing was constructed. It just seemed to be balanced on a narrow tandem set of tires as far as I could tell.

I can still remember watching the local news from San Antonio (KENS TV Channel 5) in September of 1968. There had been a terrible accident at Hemisfair. Apparently, one of the monorail trains had bumped into the back of another, and both came tumbling off the 25-foot high track. Forty-seven people were injured and there was one fatality.

I remember thinking, “See?? I knew that thing wasn’t quite right!”

They should have consulted with me when designing it. Really.

The monorail continued to operate for the next few years, but only sporadically due to maintenance problems. It was ultimately dismantled in the mid ‘70s.

I’m going down to San Antonio next month to visit my brother and his family (especially my new baby great nephew). Just for old time’s sake, I’d love to go up in the Tower of the Americas for a drink.

After all, I had been one excited little dweebster as I watched it being built and reach for the sky.