What’s Your IGK?

Other people have bucket lists. I have an IGK.

I Gotta Know.

I have no desire to parachute into Machu Picchu, race gondolas, dig for jade in upper Mongolia, visit Fort Knox, or kiss Paul McCartney.

On the McCarney note, I did something better: kissed a sting ray in Grand Cayman. Legend says that nothing bad can happen to me for seven years because I sticky lipped the ray. Rayette, as it was a female. I doubt that would have happened I’d smooched McCartney. I’ll never know. No worries.

Which brings me to what I do want to know. Why planes don’t fly backward. How a thermos knows to keep soup hot, not cold. Why internal combustion can’t work with water instead of ooze from Cretaceous dinosaur and fern landfills.

Why wallpaper? If a goldfish is by itself in a bowl, does it get lonely? If you dig deep enough in the desert, will you find water?

I have many more on my list. I forgot where I put it, though.

What’s Your IGK?

Rebranding

Assault Reifle
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Assault_rifle For the term used in the 1994-2004 US Assault Weapons Ban, or the possible 2013 US Assault Weapons Ban under legislative consideration, see assault weapon.

Not to be confused with assault gun.

Dear NRA: [I’m using the colon here as a comma would delineate familiarity]

Just as Jack-in-the-Box blew Jack into smithereens and Columbia Pictures shaved 30 pounds off Torch Lady, It’s time to re-brand.

Seriously. Just add another ‘A’ and all your troubles will be over.

NARA. National Abhorred Rifle Association. This eliminates the need to define what the heck an ‘assault’ rifle is. You’ll save time, as semantics now are your sole weapon of choice.

As for the logo, if I were an artist, I’d just update the eagle to what he [or she] would look like after getting too close to one of the bullets you refuse to admit could possibly be put under some sort of regulation.

New Logo and Name for NRA: NARA. National Abhorred Rifle Association

 There. I solved all your problems. Now you owe me $20 million, though, for creative services. You really need to re-think your creative, by the way. That last TV spot was abhorrent. Dead on to match your new name, though.

How To Under-think a Kindergarden Teacher

Five days ago a yellow file folder with instructions arrived in my granddaughter’s back pack. “ . . . please list favorite foods, siblings, family, television shows, sports, toys, and other life details.”

The instructions continued with request to include stickers and photographs, with captions, as well as ‘sometime next week’ for the deadline. The message concluded with the news that the folder would be laminated and kept with each child until the end of the year.

 What was not listed was whether or not the photos and captions were to be glued onto the yellow folder at home; or, at school. By the parents, grandparent, or the child.

 

This is when three decades of my life melted and i returned to that parental ‘I’ll see to it that my child is the best in the class but must make it look like she did it, not a grownup.”

 

Overthinking took its toll. This morning, my granddaughter melted into tears when she looked at the folder her mother and I had tried to help construct.

“NO! The pictures are not supposed to be on the front. It’s ruined!”

 I had to [once again] enter the classroom and approach the teacher with that “Sorry to bother you, but we’re having a crisis” opening line. Mrs. Rutherford knows that the crisis is a singular one. 

“It’s all right. Several folders have pictures on the front,” she said. I requested that she repeat it for my granddaughter. The buzzer sounded and everyone had 15 seconds to get on their squares. 

 The squares were too small for my big ego.