Bag boys and drive-thrus

I have a mission. Maybe you can help. I'm trying to find the secret headquarters of an organization whose name I don't know, but which I'm calling the Coalition of Really Annoying People (from whom we buy stuff). I know, not very catchy, but I'm working on it. Like "dark matter," this secretive group is invisible to scientists; however, we can detect its presence by the effect that it has on everything around us, bending light, altering orbits, keeping Dancing With the Stars on the air....

I postulate this CRAP to be responsible for the fact every time I go somewhere to buy stuff, employees uniformly do the same infuriating things to make my life more difficult. I'm picturing a secret underground training facility somewhere beneath the Mojave desert. Row upon row of men and women stand at rigid attention, besmocked, beaproned, and behatted (I'm pretty sure those are words, right?) in the uniforms of their regiments.

A surly, burly, really large man paces back and forth in front of the assembled masses, shouting: "Drive-through privates! Where do you put the coins when you hand change out the window?!" A deafening roar comes back as the pleebs yell in unison, "Right on top of the foldin' money, sir!" He smirks and issues another challenge. "Bag-boy cadets! How do you bag the biggest, bloodiest hunk of meat in the shopping cart?!" From another quarter of the cavernous hall comes, "Right on top of the Wonder Bread, sir!"

The drill instructor walks crisply up to a lone teenager standing at the very front of the room. The boy's body is so bionically stiff that it appears he may actually sprain something without moving. It's clear that this poor soul is on display, an example for the others. The loudest challenge yet is barked, barely three inches from this trembling boy's face. "When somebody asks where to find the sandpaper, what do you do, boy?!" All the color drains from his face, but he musters, "Sir, I say 'Probably over near the adhesives,' Sir!"

"Do you point in the right direction?!"
"Sir, no sir!"

"Do you look in the right direction?!"
"Sir, no sir!"

"Do you you give an aisle number?!"
"Sir, no sir!"

"Do you ever, under any circumstances walk the enemy to the product and hand it to them?!"
A wince and a gulp. "No sir, I do not, sir!"

Having made his point, he turns back to the sea of faces in front of him. "Richards here has bought himself 30 days on bread and water! If I ever catch one of you maggots being attentive, solicitous, proactive, or sensible again, I will personally bust you down to weekend night janitor! Do I make myself understood?!"

The room shakes with the resulting "Sir, yes sir!".

Somewhere else within the labyrinthine complex, a room buzzes with activity. New recruits are role-playing.

"I'd like to get a number one, with ketchup and pickles only, with fries and a Coke to drink."

A tidy, precise woman addresses the room: "What did Chambers do wrong?"

A recruit in front offers "Ma'am, he didn't say anything. He let the enemy get the whole order out. He had no defense."

"Show him how it's done, Barnard. Reich, order again."

"I'd like to get a number one, wi-"
"What would you like to drink with that?"

"Um, a Coke, and I need that burger wi-"
"Do you want me to king-size that for you for only 99 cents?"

"No... um, thanks. Hey can I get ketch-"
"Can I get you anything else?"

"Yeah, ketchup and pickles on that burger, please."
"Okay, two number ones, one with just ketchup and pickles and a Coke to drink. What do you want to drink with the second meal? Do you want that king-sized, too?"

The instructor smiles, "Excellent, Barnard. Now you try it again, Chambers."

The whole huge compound thrums with the evil energies of the unholy service employee indoctrination machine. We must find it and infiltrate it. And destroy it. The scope and reach of this organization must be huge, as they have penetrated all layers of our society and every region of the country. We must... stop... them... Talking like... Shatner.... Please... before it's too.... *gasp*

Drive the Hopelessly Eclectic way

Though I like to joke around in this space, I don't want people to think that I'm unaware of the Important Issues of the Day. So today, I will try to offer some solutions to a problem that vexes many today: the plight of suburban assault vehicle (SAV) driver.

When I took my son to preschool today, I was saddened to see a young mom trying in vain to drop off her two young children. What was the problem? She was very sensibly driving the kind of mammoth vehicle that is usually accompanied by the sound of mortar explosions and close-air support from A-10 Warthogs and attack helicopters. Because you never know when the orange-clad sixth-grade crossing guard may in fact turn out to be an insurgent. Clearly, this mom had her priorities in order, but my kid's school is woefully short of parking spaces larger than a city block.

As the soccer-mom is replaced by the combat mom (or the gilded quad-cab mondo-super-duty pickup mom), where will all of these folks park their SAVs before they go back home or traverse the rugged terrain to the nail salon?

I have the solution: The Hopelessly Eclectic Extreme Car Makeover. The key to remember is that the defining feature of these vehicles is not actually the size. Size is just one way to broadcast obscene wealth, contempt for the environment, and supreme ugliness. Our squadron of talented artisan car detailers will apply just the right paint job to lend a poorly-proportioned, ungainly look to the BMW, Infiniti, or Mini Cooper of your choice. What's more, we will encrust the exterior with precious stones, $100 bills, and civet cat coffee beans to let the world know just how much spare cash you have lying around.

"The vulgar ostentation is great," you may say, "but driving something I can actually park somewhere will rob me of the opportunity to burn up the entire output of an OPEC country during a typical month. How will I help us to keep up with China in pollutant production and singlehandedly add 45 cents to the cost of every barrel of oil?" We've got you covered. Through our Adopt-A-Barrel program, you can purchase fossil fuels by the barrel (currently $116 each). Why wait for it to be refined, when we can burn it for you on our own facility with no pesky catalytic converter to keep the good stuff to ourselves? For a modest annual fee, we'll even knock down the rainforest of your choice.

The downside, of course, will be the inability of your new car to crush, mutilate, spindle, and smithereen other cars (and their drivers), should you get into an accident. I admit that we don't have a solution for that. Even great ideas have their tradeoffs. But consider a final advantage as a consolation prize: you can probably only fit one or two SAVs into the attached hangar at your house right now. By pimping out the Hopelessly Eclectic way, you'll have room to stockpile a whole fleet of rides that show the real you. Happy driving!

McCain: The conversion is complete

Well, it's happened. The Church of Rove has finally baptized its most resistant candidate for conversion. So much attention has been given to Obama's embarrassing clergy connections of late that the press has completely missed the story of the real epiphany. Under the benevolent eye of Pope George the Dubya, John McCain has been born again. The miracle became most evident in recent days, when Brother John recanted his heresy and declared potential presidential rival Barack Obama "out of touch" and "insensitive" to the plight of poor people because he doesn't support extending the Bush tax cuts that he earlier decried because they help rich people instead of poor people. Under a President McCain, the nation's neediest will be able to sell their boats, their rental properties, and their stocks without such a big tax penalty. Can I get an 'Amen!'?

The Spirit must really be moving when the ex-foe of irresponsible spending can't give away enough of the operating capital that runs the country. In addition to permanizing Bush's whole raft of tax bonanzas to the wealthy, Brother John wants to give everybody a couple of dollars back on every tank of gas. It'll be a real savings for the impoverished when they are filling up their Hummers and Escalades. Where's the money coming from? Who cares?! Let me hear a 'Haleluia!'

But Sinner-John's apostasy was never just about the economy. In February of 2000, the blasphemy rang out loud and clear: people who used a thin veneer of dogma and piety to justify hate, bigotry, and self-interest were called "agents of intolerance" by this intractable scoundrel. But never fear. Since the Straight Talk Express 2.0 left the station, McCain's reawakening has become evident. He has made speeches at Bob Jones and Liberty Universities. He even told the tempter Russert in April of 2006 that he no longer believed Jerry Falwell to be such an agent. Testify!

Evidence that the Spirit has descended on McCain continues on and on. McCain has abandoned comprehensive immigration reform, now saying that nothing else can be done until the border is 'secured' (that is until we've built a big wall, complete with razor wire, around the entire country and deported every last illegal). Campaign finance reform? You betcha'. Oh he's using the public financing system for his campaign (What are you crazy?! He could never out-raise that Obama character!). But it works better that way. He can use his paltry funds for 'respectful debate' such as "Hamas wants Obama; so vote your fears!" In the meantime, the RNC can spend unlimited amounts of money on 'issue ads' that question Obama's patriotism, religion, national origin, and whether he murders cute little kitties just for fun.

In another promising sign, McCain has exploited a loophole in his own former vice of campaign finance reform and has taken to flying around in private jet of his wife's company for much less than the going charter rate. Well, it's legal (because his wife owns the jet... even though they have separate finances and she isn't helping the campaign in the teeniest way), but it does stick its thumb in the eye of the spirit of finance reform. Praise be!

At least Brother John has never wavered in his support of the Holy War in Iraq. He truly understands that the War on Terror is the only Way we can remain in power in perpetuity. Indeed, he has even taught Pope George a thing or two. "Stay the course" seems awfully wimpy next to "Heck... send 'em all in!" The wise expenditure of pretty much all of our military resources gives new meaning to the taunts of North Korea and Iran when they say "You and whose army?!"

Brother John's political foes pounce on his willingness to stay for 100 years, when everybody knows that he meant it was okay to stay for 100 years as long as people aren't being killed over there like they are now. (No word yet on when our continuing success in Iraq will yield people not getting killed there so the 100 years can commence. But I digress from my homiletic thread....) Where was I? Oh yes... Mazal Tov! Oops, sorry. I forgot that the Church of Rove digs Jews in a political sense only. Lost my head.

So anyway, take heart, Brothers and Sisters. That evil thorn in our side—who fancied himself a Maverick—is now a gelding. We are free once again to continue with the ritual sacrifice of those without trust funds on the altar of captiali democracy. Please turn in your hymnals to the Service of Rapturous Adoration of the Flag. Let's sing together "You're Either For Us or an Elitist."

C.A.E.: Business

Crimes Against English is a semi-occasional feature of Hopelessly Eclectic. I use these posts to shame alleged native English–speakers into stopping the senseless abuse of a language that's just minding its own business, after all. For more information about C.A.E. philosophy, see http://hopelesslyeclectic.blogspot.com/2007/01/crimes-against-english.html.

In today's issue, we continue the riveting discussion about Talking Like a Manager. As described in our last installment, verbing is your most important tool to become, well, a tool. Skilling up for verbing takes time, though. (Smooth, huh? I dare you to try it out in your next staff meeting.) In the meantime, the average guy or gal seeking to become the Alpha Suit shouldn't be standing still. Enter the gratuitous reflexive.

You remember the reflexive form from junior high English, right. You use "self" with the appropriate pronoun because you are doing something to or about yourself. (Or somebody is doing something to or about him/herself.) For example:

I have nobody to blame but myself for getting myself in trouble when I recommended to my teacher that she go perform an impossible act on herself.

Pretty straightforward, right? Sure, if you're not Management Material. If you want to fast-track yourself to Alpha Suithood, you really need to flout the rules of English. You can appear more refined and important if you gratuitously tack "self" onto random first-person pronouns. Like so:

Please familiarize yourselves with the proposed new policies. I'd like to socialize the changes before productioning them. If you should have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask Raymondo or myself.

I know I used a lot of advanced techniques in that last example. You may not be ready to integrate them into your Alpha Suit skill track yet, but I believe that immersion is the best way to learn.

In any case, note the gratuitous use of "myself," when non-Alpha Suit types would stick with the technically-correct "me." (Yes, I know that nobody can ask myself or do anything else to myself except me, but we're talking about business actualization, not grammar.)

Note that nobody but an actual Alpha Suit could get away with the following without inspiring quizzical looks and/or eye rolls:

This report was prepared by myself over the past months.

Don't try it unless you're an Alpha Suit... even if you hear an Alpha Suit say it. It is much too powerful magic for Lesser Suits. Your use of the gratuitous reflexive needs to be more subtle, usually dragging in at least one other person for camouflage. But fear not—through careful planning, you too can use this highly effective tool. Here are some examples to send you on your way. Happy selfing:

Everybody but Tami and myself were made aware of the changes to this policy. Can you help me understand why I wasn't looped on this?

I'm not convinced this project would have gone forward, had anybody but myself been the lead.

Myself, I wouldn't have made that choice.

When somebody has a chance, could you fill in Pierre and myself?

The meeting was run by the lead team and myself.

Q: Who built that web page? A: Actually, myself.

What—no Wife Points?

In the aftermath of my provocative exposé about the little-understood Husband Points System, I've been asked many times (mostly by the voices inside my head) "Why only a Husband Points system? Isn't there also a Wife Points system? How about some way for men to reclaim some power?" Poor sods.

These questions arise from a fundamental misunderstanding of the Way The Universe Works. Here are some practical reasons a WP system (and remember, you can substitute GP for Girlfriend Points, or whatever equivalent you prefer) will never work:

The negative feedback loop
In the previous two Husband Points articles, we clarified that HP are not redeemable for anything. Instead, they exist to be lost. The very act of losing HP carries the penalty of making interactions with your sweetie Less Pleasant. Let's pretend that you have instituted a Wife Points system. You have done this surreptitiously. Why? Imagine your mate's reaction to the idea. An immediate waterfall of HP rain down on the floor.

Do you begin to see the problem? Let's take it further and imagine a case in which the wife is question is clearly ogling some attractive man. (If she is cupping her hands and mumbling something like "...could bounce a quarter off those...," it obviously exacerbates the situation.) Now imagine applying the point system: Clearly, she deserves to take a hit in WP.

Imagine that your wife now says, "You know, I'm not really feeling like Chinese tonight. Could we do Indian instead?" Springing on your opportunity to cash in on those lost WP, you say, "Well, if you really want to, I could eat Indian. I just don't see why we can't go where I want to for a while." According to the fictitious WP system, you are well within your bounds... There will never be a good outcome from this. You will begin bleeding so many HP that a tourniquet around your neck will actually sound appealing.

Do you fully appreciate the problem? The effect of a WP system would be exactly the same as the effect of the HP, but much, much more! You may as well pour gasoline on yourself and try to put out fires by stomping on them.

The... Er... affection angle
In the HP system, loss of HP can render the husband less likely to encounter the... er... affection of his beloved. This tends to make a Big Impression on us. Such impressions can be strong motivators in our perseverance and creativity in avoiding Husband Point loss.

Now compare the effect of the HP system with the effects of the WP system: you lose points, you get nothing. She loses points, you get nothing. It's the same thing. What are you, stupid?

---

I hope this clears up the question of Wife Points at long last. If you wish to inflict that kind of karmic sinkhole on yourself, have party. Me, I'm going to go and sit quietly in the middle of a darkened room and try very hard to avoid losing any more HP.

FAQ: Me

I thought now might be an ideal time to begin leaking personal information about myself to the press, in preparation for the announcement about my presidential exploratory committee. So please enjoy the following FAQ (Fictitiously Asked Questions):

Q:
So how does a guy with two music degrees end up being an Operating Systems Analyst?
A:
The first section (about 50 measures or so) goes along about like everybody expects it to. Suddenly, there's a caesura, followed by a frantic 10-measure transitional section marked by discord and tremolo. This section is marked in the score as "lifelong hobby becomes new job." The transition ends rather painlessly, but leads to an entirely new key. Another 50 measures later, dramatic music signals the beginning of another (however much more gradual) transition. This work is as yet unfinished.

Q:
Huh?
A:
Always loved music, theater, and computers/technology. Went to school with majors in Music Education and Theater. Dropped theater a couple of years in, because I had to graduate eventually. Married my sweetie. Graduated a semester later with a Bachelors of Music Education. Substitute taught for the rest of the school year in the Sioux Falls, SD public schools. Got a graduate assistantship and went back to school for another year and a summer. Graduated with a Masters in voice performance.

Moved to Jewell, IA to teach middle school and high school vocal music there. After three years there, moved to Des Moines to take a great high-school vocal job at Lincoln High School. After that year, realized that teaching music was not my vocation. The following occurred to me: "Hey, I love computers, too. I bet I could make some money doing that!" Studied to earn some certifications, took a Temp IT Flunkie job for a few months until I found my job at the company where I still work.

Great job. Learned a lot, had a great time, got good. During the past (almost) 5 years, still a great job, continued learning a lot, having a great time, getting good. About 4 years in, my life experiences all ganged up on me to help me realize what I want to do with my life. Soon thereafter, began school full time again to get prerequisites for med school. More about that in another FAQ.

Q:
How much wood could a woodchuck chuck...
A:
Five.


Q:
Five what?
A:
Yes.


Q:
What is the meaning of life?
A:
Flossing. Some may point out the Douglas Adams contention that "The Answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything" is 42. Some would do well to remember that The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is fiction, whereas my answer is a lie.


Q:
You actually thought people might be amused by this article?
A:
Look. This is hard work. I'll admit that mistakes have been made. The article I started is not the article we're in now. But we can't just desert these paragraphs. It will simply embolden the unfunny content. The unfunny content doesn't believe we have the stomach to continue. We must stay the course follow this new way forward. I understand that some may be skeptical of my decision to deploy more words into this article. Naysayers are naysaying that it's already a lost cause. I don't believe that. I believe that with more strategically-placed unfunny words, we can have continuing victory in this article. But it's not an open-ended commitment. We're doing our part. This article has to start making itself funny while my words hold its place. Although I won't place an arbitrary, artificial time line for this to occur, which I'm sure will increase the pressure the article is feeling to get real funny in a hurry. To help this funniness emerge, we will take bold...
(entry reached length limit and was truncated)

C.A.E.: Business

Crimes Against English is a semi-occasional feature of Hopelessly Eclectic. I use these posts to shame alleged native English–speakers into stopping the senseless abuse of a language that's just minding its own business, after all. For more information about C.A.E. philosophy, see http://hopelesslyeclectic.blogspot.com/2007/01/crimes-against-english.html.

Today, I introduce a spin-off of my popular "Crimes Against English" series. It is "C.A.E.: Business"; I have modeled this spin-off to be just like the lucrative CBS C.S.I. franchise—except without the lucre. I hope to release "C.A.E.: Home Decor" soon.

Today's episode of C.A.E.: Business is called Talk Like a Manager. Though the silliness involved is not unique to managers, it is this group that has brought the art of Talking Like a Manager to heretofore unknown pinnacles.

The first, and most crucial, step in talking like a manager is to verb whenever possible. Allow me to discourse on this important topic:

Verbing is a basic requirement for anyone hoping to pursue a career in management. Whether you are tasking a resource with a new opportunity or workshopping a new idea with the executive team, verbing is essential to demonstrate that you can conference with the best of them.

To verb is to lie in wait for a helpless, perfectly good noun to come along, wrestle it to the ground, and bury your fangs in its delicate part of speech. This allows you to establish yourself as the Alpha Suit, strutting triumphantly as you wipe the verbal gore from your chin. At least, that is what the hunter-verber does. The hunter-verber dazzles simple business serfs with verbing prowess.

Most managers (and some non-managers) simply wait around for the leavings of the Alpha Suit's repast: "Did he just say 'you can conference with the best of them'? I'm going to have to verb that too that in my next staff meeting." These shadowy figures are scavenger-verbers, scuttling creatures who spread the language fungus of their second-hand meal throughout the community. Soon, even non-business folk are infected. Eventually, all of the little woodland animals are displaying imitations of the Alpha Suit's plumage. (Well, if the managers say it, it must be Better and More Professional.)

Note that verbing is just one small part of establishing oneself as the Alpha Suit. To climb that ladder, you study many other dark arts, including:

• The gratuitous I: "Yes, I learned that when the CFO was meeting with Tom and I."
• The gratuitous myself: "If you have any questions about the new procedure, please send an email to your supervisor or myself."
• Utilizing: "I had wrist problems too, until I started utilizing an ergonomic mouse."
• Other words that mean something totally different than the sense in which they are being used: "Well, Sydney, I think that sounds like a great idea. Let's socialize that over the next week or so and see what we end up with."

I promise to cover these disparate topics at greater length in a future exciting episode of C.A.E.: Business.

Not everybody can be the Alpha Suit, but you can seem like the Alpha Suit to your herd if they hear Alpha Suit leftovers from you first, before they hear them from everybody else. For example, let's say you go to a meeting with the Alpha Suits from many large herds, perhaps even the Grand Alpha Suit. You will no doubt hear several carefully-designed phrases that are clever and catchy. The difference between these clever, catchy phrases and, say, a cliché is this:

1. A cliché may sound cute and may once have been clever, but it's had all meaning sucked out of it by mindless repetition.
2. A clever, catchy phrase from an Alpha Suit has had the meaning pre-sucked out of it before the mindless repetition that is about to ensue.

So be on the lookout for a clever, catchy phrase. Remember that you only gain standing in your herd if they hear it from you first.

And don't neglect your verbing duties.

Arioso—blogger medium

Among the eclectica I intend to share with you on Hopelessly Eclectic is a special feature called "Arioso—blogger medium" (big surprise if you read the title).

People who know me well might say "Strange, I'd have considered you more of a large than a medium. Well, an XL really." Not that kind of medium, silly. I recently discovered that I have been endowed with technopsychic powers (although some scholars consider them psychotechnic). These powers enable me to channel writers throughout the blogosphere, capturing their unique voices and ripping them off for my very own blog.

"Strange," you might say, "I was under the impressions that mediums channel dead people. Can't you only channel dead bloggers?"

Aha! One might think that, but I seem to have the gift (and the curse) of being a rare clairvoyant–medium, with the ability to receive and transmit live bloggers on both VHF and UHF, as well as satellite. It truly is a wondrous gift.

For those of you who have not sampled widely of the fruits of the blogosphere, there will now be no need. I will bring a great variety of styles and content to you right here on my site. For those of you blog floozies who wander about the Internet, consorting with all kinds of authors who may or may not practice safe hosting... come home. I'll type sweet nothings meant for your monitor alone. Also, my computer is virus–free. Honest. It's a Mac.

In today's episode of "Arioso—blogger medium," I will channel Chuck Kempenburg, representing the genre of blogging that may alternately be called "The year–round Christmas letter" or "If I ever blog like this, please impale me on the nearest umbrella immediately." (Medium's note: I cannot be held responsible for spelling, punctuation, grammar, or halitosis contained in a channeled blog.)

Hello again. It's afternoon now, and I've had a little nap since my last post. We got a call from Eugenia at Yale Technical College. She's made the Dean's List (again). We're just as proud as we can be of her. Art History can be a tough major, and she's really working hard. Her paintings use to be on our refrigerator but now their up in the Druessel Gallery on campus. (Ha!) She's still not sure what she wants to do after college, but we figure it wouldn't hurt to have another couple of senior years. (She hates it when I tell that joke.)

Jeanie is still going through the Change, but she's pretty agreeable most of the time anyway. (Ha!) Her job is going good, and she'll probably get that promotion to assistant night shift department manager pretty soon. The assistant night shift department manager right now is getting ready to retire, and Jeanie has the most seniority.

The kids were all home for my birthday on Saturday, and did we have a hot time! We were having a lively game of Scat, and Benji (he's a Sophomore at Gerald Milfton Senior High, and at the top of his class in Auto Shop) suggested that we switch to Jenga. I tell you, there was more hootin' and hollerin' than this house has seen in a long time. As usual, Rachel's husband (the socialist) really didn't seem that interested, but I could tell he was having a good time when he took out that yellow brick from the very bottom.

Rachel and Karl headed back to Arizona this morning so they could get back in time for Rachel to be on jury duty (the first time in our family!!). It should be interesting. Nobody was killed or anything, but there was something on the news about cruelty to iguanas. Rachel has always been wonderful with animals, so she's very qualified for the trail.

Well, I suppose I ought to sign off for now. I've got to get to my urologist appointment by 4. It's nothing bad. Just the usual kind of stuff. I'll see you all later.

"And we do care..."

This sign (photographed in the parking lot of a local grocery store) doesn't have anything wrong with it grammatically. I just found it so emotionally moving that I had to share it with you.

Imagine other signs at this location, showing a similar tenderness. "Because of our fondness for you, be prepared for a body cavity search!"

I'm going to have to get one of these for our house before my son enters his teen years. I'm sure he'll appreciate how much we care.

Husband Points, continued

Today's article continues the riveting exposé I began yesterday (Husband Points). You'll remember the first two Tenets of the HP system:

1. You can only lose HP; you can't earn or regain them.
2. You have no power to affect the HP system or its machinations.

This may be a good time to consider an example in real-life context.

It's Saturday mid-morning, and a work buddy calls to ask if you want to play some racquetball (or basketball, Parcheesi, whatever). "Hey, Honey—Gerald from work wants to hit the Y for some racquetball this morning. Did you have anything planned?" If you've had no recent loss of Husband Points, the response might be something like this: "I had thought I might pick up milk at the store this morning. Could you grab some on your way back?" Amateurs might see this as an opportunity to gain HP by agreeing; those of us who understand the First Tenet know better. Your sweetie is actually presenting you with a hidden opportunity to lose HP—or not; the choice is up to you. If you say yes, you have survived the encounter with no loss of HP; you have simply maintained the status quo. If you say no, you've taken advantage of that stealth HP-loss opportunity.

Note that successfully navigating this hurdle doesn't mean that your racquetball outing is free from danger of HP loss. If, during the time you're gone, it occurs to your mate that "you know, we could use some olive oil, too. I mentioned it last night during the news; I hope he remembers and picks that up, too." This is what is known as a psychic HP-loss opportunity. But that's an advanced topic. I deal with such tangles in my 5-day seminar.

Okay, I have another important Tenet for you: the First-and-a-Halfth Tenet of Husband Points. This Tenet states that even if you could earn HP, you could not redeem them for anything. HP are not legal tender. So who cares? If the exchange rate from Husband Points to anything is exactly zero, why keep track of them at all?

Pay attention now: losing Husband Points subtly erodes the relationship's atmosphere of goodwill, among other things. Those experienced husbands out there know what I mean. Recent loss of HP will color all near-future interactions. The Saturday racquetball scenario above might instead evolve into something like this: "Would it kill you to spend a Saturday morning with me? I thought we could go grocery shopping today, but if you'd rather hang out with some guy from work, that's fine with me." See how unpleasant life becomes in the context of a recent HP loss? In addition, you've lost a bunch more HP just by bringing up the possibility of doing what you want to do.

Here are a few of the many negative effects of HP loss:

• Goodwill (as you've seen above) goes on hiatus.
• Hobbies you enjoy with friends or by yourself suffer.
• More normal events produce HP-loss opportunities (as above).
• HP-loss for other infractions becomes more dramatic, increasing the affect.
• You may notice an unavailability of... er... affection.

Again, many optimistically believe that they can actually counter these affects (i.e. gain Husband Points) with thoughtfulness, kind words, and Good Behavior. This is most desperately hoped for in the case of affection. Poor sods. Even in the absence of any HP loss, and in the presence of lots of Good Behavior, the quantity and quality of available affection will be exactly what the affection–bestower desires, so that's not really an increase. In the case of a drop in Husband Points... well, let's not talk about such unpleasant things any further.

So let's review the First-and-a-Halfth Tenet of the Husband Points system: Husband Points, should you have any left, can't actually be redeemed for anything; they simply exist to be lost.

What to do
Now that you understand the HP system, the question remains: how do you maintain the optimal outcome—avoiding HP loss as much of the time as possible?

You could fake your own death. While this may result in some initial Husband Point loss, depending on the current level of goodwill, you may actually end up with a positive balance. However, if you start over with a new person, realize that you don't automatically get the full Husband Point allotment to begin with. You aren't even guaranteed your previous HP balance. In general, your HP balance will be the same as the last guy with whom your mate was associated. Even if you come in with a high balance, your sweetie will quickly assess your HP suitability and may make a series of large debits to your account.

Another possible solution is to visit your local neighborhood cybernetics expert and attempt to become a Stepford Husband (yes, I stole the idea). While becoming an entirely submissive automaton may seem appealing, it also means that you would probably cease to get much enjoyment out of the things that loss of HP makes inaccessible. So I'd call that choice a wash.

Okay, confession time... that's really all I have. I've got nothing else. Really. I have not yet learned the secret of avoiding mild or catastrophic Husband Point loss, except for the faking-your-death or android routes. My only hope is that readers will deluge this site with their suggestions, experiences, and techniques in avoiding HP loss.

So... for me and for humanity, contribute to this cause by sharing your ideas. With your help, I hope to write a book and perhaps win the Nobel Prize in... well, something.

Thank you for your support.

Husband Points

Exhibits A and B

Some of you may not know that I am an experienced husband. I've been married for 10 years to my wonderful and caring wife Kristin. We have an amazing three-year-old son Micah, about whom I promise to blather extensively in another biographical post. I could talk at Homeric length about my brilliant and charming son, but I'll refrain for the moment.

Today, I hope to provide awareness for those of lesser experience (or perhaps insight)... an awareness of the crucial issue of Husband Points (hereafter referred to as HP, but not to be confused with Hit Points; if you're likely to confuse HP with Hit Points, you may be too entrenched in the world of Role-Playing Games. Put on your +2 Elven Non-Geek Helmet and join the rest of society for the duration of the post.)

Please note that the conceptual framework for Husband Points exists whether you are married or not. If you like, you can translate HP to BP (boyfriend points, or an equivalent if you're currently in prison).

The First Tenet of Husband Points is that you cannot under any circumstances earn HP. "That's ridiculous!" you may say, "what purpose do points have if you don't get any?" More about that soon, but this leads us directly to the Second Tenet of HP: your opinion about the HP system doesn't matter. It came not into being to serve husbands, but to serve our nemeses opponents tormentors soul-mates.

Coming to terms with the Second Tenet is crucial. Only when you have accepted the inevitability can you learn to live with it and minimize the damage.

Back to the First Tenet... Husband Points may never be earned—only lost. The key to survival under the HP system is to keep from hemorrhaging HPs unnecessarily. To do this, we must study those things that cause us to lose HPs. In short, anything that causes your mate displeasure has the potential to tear away Husband Points like a turkey vulture perched on fresh roadkill.

Carefully note that I did not say that "behaving in a way that causes your mate displeasure" loses you points. If your beloved even thinks you behaved poorly, you lose Husband Points. If she later changes her mind and decides that you behaved reasonably, refer to the First Tenet—you're never getting those points back.

To help you on your way, examine the following circumstances and decide which circumstances are likely to cause a loss of HPs:

• You inadvertently call your wife by any other female's name.
• Your mate sees you ogling another woman, poster, or electronic device.
• Your spouse sees another woman, poster, or electronic device and thinks you were likely leering.
• She sees another woman, poster, or electronic device that she thinks you would likely find attractive, had you seen it.
• Your mate wife is angry because you moved her keys; later, she remembers she had actually moved the keys.
• Your spouse dreams that you moved her keys.
• Your spouse dreams that she lost her keys and that you were not home to help her find them.
• Your mate remembers a time when you moved her keys and she couldn't find them.
• Your love considers the possibility that you might at some time in the future inconsiderately move her keys.

If you said that all of the above constitute sufficient reason to lose Husband Points, you are correct. Because many of the HP loss opportunities will be beyond your control, it is imperative that you avoid those Bad Behavior options that are under your control, such as blogging about your loving spouse.

Astute readers will have reasoned that with so many opportunities to lose HP, and no opportunities to gain any, you will eventually lose all of your HP. What happens then? Husband Point debt. This is a very bad situation, as the interest is very heavy. Astute readers (sometimes also called depressed people) will have by now deduced that most husbands spend most of their life in HP debt. Have I mentioned how important it is to stop the bleeding?

If everything seems so hopeless and skewed against us, why even try to avoid loss of Husband Points? Tune in tomorrow for the exciting conclusion, when we will learn about the effects of HP loss on our lives and what we can do to combat them.

C.A.E. - Drop the apostrophes and come out with your hands up!

Crimes Against English is a semi-occasional feature of Hopelessly Eclectic. I use these posts to shame alleged native English–speakers into stopping the senseless abuse of a language that's just minding its own business, after all. For more information about C.A.E. philosophy, see http://hopelesslyeclectic.blogspot.com/2007/01/crimes-against-english.html.

Okay, so I got this nasty example from the same video store that advised me "your on camera." Apparently, cruelty to spelling wasn't enough. Apostrophe abuse is required, too.

So here's a little hint:

You never need an apostrophe to talk about more than one of something!

I really have to wonder about the thought process of this video store employee: "Hmm, what's the rule? If it's 3 or fewer, I don't use an apostrophe. If it's 4 or more, I do use an apostrophe." Or perhaps he/she was relying on the age-old real estate adage "punctuation, punctuation, punctuation."

For that matter, what's the deal with the quotes around the number 4?? Picture the 16-year-old with the eyebrow piercing behind the counter: "Okay, you get like (air quotes) four things of popcorn, right?" Does that mean it's approximately four bags? Is 4 a euphemism for something else? "Well, we're supposed to tell you that you get 4 bags, but it's really three bags and a sack."

Okay, here is the language lesson for today:

Plural: When you've got more than one of something, just add s or es.

"I see that you have one bag, Ted. You're such a loser. I, on the other hand, have four delicious bags of popcorn."

Possessive: Describing ownership

"That bag's bottom is completely soaked with buttery topping substitute. If we can get Dylan to hold it in his lap on the car ride home, it'll be totally hilarious."

Contractions: Because it's just too much effort to say "that bag is."

"That bag's only the 'venti' size. Gimme the 'heart attack' instead."

Except: "It is" is contracted to "it's," and something owned by it is "its."

"I think it's cool you chose a radioactive porcupine as a pet. Its little quills give off such a nice glow."

And lay off the quotes! Quotation marks show people what somebody said; they don't give extra emphasis to anything. Underline or bold or something if you must!

It's just like my mother always said, "You'll never amount to anything." And I'm proud to say that I haven't.

So there.

Crimes against English

Many loud-type people concern themselves with activizing about trivial matters such as The Environment or The Sanctity of Marriage or Paper or Plastic. Among the topics that I plan to discuss semi-occasionally in this blog, the tragic abuse of English grammar and punctuation will play a major role. Or it might play a significant role. Or I might forget about it sometimes.

Anyway, ever since I was born at an early age, I have been outraged (well, really annoyed) by the heartless torture and cruelty inflicted on our poor language. As a public service, and for my amusement, and for your amusement, I will be exposing mistreatment of English. If you are an offender, I will help you to mend your ways.

By the way, I won't be featuring errors by those for whom English is a second (or more often third or fourth) language. The translation flubs of companies are already well-documented at the hilarious Engrish website. But if you are just somebody who has taken the trouble to learn more than one language, you're entitled to a few mistakes in the only one most Americans know.
Note: Crimes against English will feature photos taken on an old, crummy digital camera by a poor photographer, often in lousy lighting. You may interpret this as visual parallelism befitting the poor language skills demonstrated if you like. Or not.

This photo was taken at a national-chain video store. If you are unfamiliar with the correct usage your and you're, consult these easy-to-understand descriptions and examples, which I have attempted to tailor to those people who most need them.

The word your always describes something "you" own.

Your

"Hey Clem, is that your new pickup? Them naked lady mud flaps is real classy!"

The word you're, in contrast, is a contraction of the words you and are.

You're

"The word you're, in contrast, is a contraction of the words you and are."

See how easy it is to avoid the kind of heinous attacks on human language that threaten to tear apart the fabric of our very society? Together, we can right the wrongs perpetrated against English by People Who Should Know Better. Alternatively, we can roll our eyes, giggle at them, and feel superior in a nerdy sort of way.

Stay the Course 2.0

Yesterday, I explored some prospects available to those considering careers in insanity. As I read over my musings, I see now that I may have left you with an erroneous impression—that the only occupation for the unbalanced is the act of being cracked itself.

In addition to the challenges and rewards of actually being crazy, a résumé steeped in insanity can also act as a springboard to notoriety in other fields. For example, craziness could be just the advantage to rocket you to a career as an actor in action movies. With training and diligence, you could develop what is known as "talk show versatility," alternating between jumping gleefully on couches and pistol-whipping hosts while channeling L. Ron Hubbard.

Too tame for you? You may have noticed that crazy people are often put in charge of countries. Nuts are regularly installed in countries like Venezuela, Iran, and North Korea, among many others. As the insane leader of a Foreign Country, you could enjoy such perks as believing that big hair fools your followers into thinking that you're tall. Also, some despots get to name months and things after themselves, such as in "I have to remember to pay my car insurance before we leave for vacation; it's due on Bill Bensen 15th."

On the other hand, Foreign Countries are often far away or otherwise inconvenient because of economic or military instability. Also, people in other countries frequently speak languages that are Not English. It's very hard to learn to speak Not English.

Don't worry, though. Crazy people can also have a political future in the United States, where Not English is the national anti-language. Moreover, the "tall hair makes me impressive" benefit applies here too, but is mostly confined to loud reverend-types and politicians who hurl personal electronics at security workers. In a further development in insanity yesterday, the Honorable George W. Bush, president of the United States, introduced a New Plan for the war in Iraq. You may be interested in learning how the New Plan is different from the Old Plan. For your convenience, I have compiled the following list from extensive research of my own thinking.


As you can see, this represents a major shift in US policy. Astute military types will note that the above extensive table deals only with tactics—what you actually do based on your strategy and your opponent's choices. Another important military concept is that of strategy—planning of what you're going to do before you do it. Please see the below table for a summary of strategy... before and after.


In summary, this is clearly a New Plan, in the same way that looking into a fun house stretchy mirror thing causes you to lose weight. Though many cut-and-run-aid-and-comfort-to-the-enemy-pinko-liberals fail to see the prudence of the New Plan, its chances for success are clear. In fact, I believe that the likelihood that the New Plan will lead us to continuing victory in Iraq is directly proportianal to the newishness of the New Plan compared to the Old Plan.

It may seem as if I just indulged in an extensive digression, but it was important to demonstrate the dizzying heights to which your career in insanity could take you, if only you demonstrate the aptitude and determination. Don't give up. Be creative. Be insane.

It's a living

I'm thinking of starting a career in insanity. I know it will seem like a bad idea to many, but I think most people aren't fully aware of the benefits. The average person only considers the strange looks, the half-whispers, or the bad pay. True, being nuts won't get you health insurance or a sweet pension. True, loopiness won't lock in a full dating schedule for life. True, you may find yourself repeatedly starting sentences with the same word for no discernible reason.

My point is, most people tend to overlook the rewards of a career in insanity. It requires no special equipment. You get to make up your own words. (Did you notice "loopiness" up there a minute ago? It's perk of the job.) Perhaps most importantly, you work for yourself and set your own hours. People around you have no way of knowing when you're taking time off. If you're a workaholic, OSHA won't get on your case to make you take vacation time.

The list continues, but the social implications alone should convince you. Think about that lady from Boise on your most recent airplane ride; how long did it take her to conclude that you're dying to hear about her springer spaniel's ingrown hair? The next time you're on a plane, avoid such problems by blurting an insanity establisher as soon as you sit down. (You'll find several examples in your orientation manual.) I'd suggest something simple like, "I used to have that problem. I've just felt so much younger since I started rinsing my bathtub with guacamole." Bring a stopwatch to track how long it takes nearby passengers to mumble something about the restroom and leave—the aircraft.

I know what you're thinking. "It all sounds so appealing, but I'm not sure I have the skills for psychosis." Don't worry. Yes, it takes practice and maybe head trauma to really carry off stark-raving. But the good news is that you can begin with a few simple steps. A little crazy can be very effective. Enough eccentricities to form a nice thin coat on a conversation make for a retroactive effect. Onlookers begin to wonder if what you said and did last week was crazy too. Soon, you'll have an imagined history of strangeness that you didn't even require you to be on the clock. Work smarter, not harder.