Sometimes Getting Sidetracked is a Good Thing

Yesterday the Young 'un asked me to fold her a paper hat. And I couldn't remember how to do it.

Do you remember how? Without looking it up on YouTube?

Yeah; I had to search out directions on Youtube. and found them pretty readily. Do you know what that means?

It means somebody had both time and the equipment to do a video about how to fold a paper hat and to post it to YouTube.

I also didn't have the paper to fold a paper hat; there hasn't been a newspaper in this house in years.

I had a whole train of thought going on with this, but I suddenly had an emergency to deal with in the other room. Apparently the vacuum cleaner has stopped vacuuming. Should have been a simple fix; and it was. The paper filter somehow got wet and that stopped it up completely; no air through the wet paper.

Then I got sidetracked, and completely lost where I was going. (I thought about starting over, but then thought; eh- what the Hell.)

The young 'un was in the living room watching Duck Dynasty. And I just happened to walk in in the middle of the episode where Si handcuffs himself to Willie. And it is the scene where Si needs to pee. While he is riding in Willie's truck.

I don't know what's funnier; Si and Willie, or Jase making the most of this bad (for somebody else) situation.

It has been alleged that Duck Dynasty is scripted. I don't know about scripted; maybe more like Improv. I can see a producer dropping a security belt in the room, and then turning on the cameras. and standing back; definitely standing back. Especially if you have just handed Si a loaded stun gun.

And ya know what? I'll bet Si knows how to fold a paper hat without YouTube.

Well; so do I.

Now.

Eat, Drink and Be Merry!

The greatest 6.5 minutes of Thanksgiving television ever filmed.

Courtesy of Instapundit.

Post Halloween Sugar Crash Blues

There are really only two days a year when it is permissible to over-indulge in sweet treats: Halloween and Easter. Easter has the added benefit of being the one day of the year when you have tacit permission to eat chocolate for breakfast.

But like any high, an inevitable crash follows. That was today. Unless you are still able to over-indulge in candy. Then the crash is tomorrow. But there will be a crash.

Kind of like November 7th. This election cycle has been a massive high in some respects. No matter which side you are on you have been riding a HOPE high; either a hope for four more years, or hope for no more years for the incumbent. Either way, we a have invested a lot of emotional energy into next Tuesday's outcome. And Wednesday's crash will be difficult, win or lose.

The losers will have obvious reasons for the blues: How will they survive the trip down the wrong road the country has decided to take?

The winners will have another few days of being 'UP'; but then reality sets in. Then comes 4 years of being required to govern, and not just carp from the sidelines.

Unless your a Democrat; then you just spend the next four years padding the pockets of every special interest group you have ever been associated with, instead of governing. Or developing a budget. Or leading.

Unless its from behind.

Sorry; How could a simple post about Halloween candy suddenly take a turn like that?

Well, that's what the crash does to you. Makes you mean. Unsettles your disposition. Makes you unwilling to listen to reason.

Like Obama for the last four years. He came down from his high and realized the job of President is hard work. So he left somebody else in charge and grabbed a basketball. Or some golf clubs. Or he went off on another campaign trip.

Sorry; its that dang sugar crash again.

But I'm looking forward to November 7th; I'll be high as a kite. Either Romney wins, and Obama goes home to Kenya (sorry; I just had to include a birther joke. I ran out of Milky Ways about an hour ago. Bite size my ass; I need 3 or 4 of 'em to make a bite), and I am looking forward to the next 4 years, or Obama wins, and I quit my job and let the rest of you working stiffs pay my bills. And I'll run down to Kroger's and get me a 'boma phone.

Win-Win either way.

In Today' News

Yesterday I had to buy a new desk chair. I didn't want to buy a new chair, and thus help enable Obama's economic recovery, but I was forced to. See what happened is this.

There I was Friday night, typing assiduously away on my blog post, and I leaned back in my chair. That caused the air piston to break out the bottom of its seat, down in the wheeled base of the chair and push through to the floor. since my weight was 70% behind the piston, it had the force advantage, and pushed me over backwards. One minute I am typing away; the next I am laying on my back, in my chair with my feet caught up in the knee hole of my desk.

I had no idea what happened or why. None of the kids were around- that would have been my first choice, blaming them- and whats worse; none of the kids were around, so I was kinda caught. It took a minute to wiggle around enough to get my feet out of desk, and then roll over so I could stand up. That's when I saw the air cylinder rod poking 18 inches out of the bottom of the chair.

Just so we are all on the same page, most modern desk chairs have a gas pressurized cylinder, like the ones that hold open your trunk lid or hatchback on a mini van, inside the base. This is what makes then adjustable. Usually the piston is bolted to the bottom of the wheel assembly, and the seat rides on the bottom of the cylinder. pulling on the lever on the side of the chair allows some gas to escape from under the bottom  of the piston to above the piston, so the chair will lower. Pulling the same lever with the seat empty allows the gas to go below the piston, raising the seat. Okay; that's probably more that you really wanted to know about office chairs.

So yesterday I went shopping. Wal-mart had a good deal on a chair. Like I said; I didn't want to buy a new chair, but my other options were a metal folding chair or an old bentwood chair with a 10-inch round seat; neither were really viable for long term sitting, like the hour or so I need to create a post.

I'm still not comfortable in my new chair. I had the old one better than 10 years. We were old friends. Evey paper I wrote for college was done in that chair. Most of my blog posts were written there as well. I spend a lot of time at my desk when I'm home; working from home on some occasions, or just writing and reading from the internet. That chair is custom fit to me, after 10 years of use. The new one; eh, not so much. But it might fit better eventually. After 4 or 5 years of use.

But you see what finally motivated me to contribute to the Obama Economy; I literally had to be knocked to the floor before I would spend a dime.

Friday Night at The Movies VIII

Last night it was time for an old family favorite again; It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World. 2 hours and 41 minutes of some of the best comics of the era doing there best gags; a virtual Who's Who of the greatest names in the business.

I remember seeing this movie on TV several times, usually on New Years Eve, from 9:00 to midnight, back in the day before the whole evening was about setting to watch The Ball drop on Times Square. It looks better in color on the wide screen.

It's hard to pick a favorite scene. The shares scene at the beginning of the movie? Sid Caesar tearing up the hardware store? Buddy Hackett trying to fly an airplane? Milton Berle and Terry-Thomas in a fist fight beside the road? There is a whole lot of good stuff packed into what seems like a short movie.

And the best part? The movie works. It's not just a series of gags, The plot is believable, the characters motivations are well laid and consistently followed, and as usual (for me anyway) a good story, convincingly told.

Briefly, Five men (Milton Berle, Sid Caesar, Jonathan Winters, Buddy Hackett and Mickey Rooney) all stop to help the victim of an automobile accident (Jimmy Durante). Durante tells the men about the money he stole 15 years earlier ($350,000.00) and where its buried. The rest of the movie is the race to Santa Rosita to retrieve the money.

Sounds simple, don't it? They tried to remake Mad Mad World in 2001 in a movie called Rat Race, which tanked pretty spectacularly. The formula may sound simple, but the correct execution is complex.

The movie holds up well. Almost 50 years old (released just a few days before JFK was shot in Dallas) the gags still are funny, and don't rely on knowing what was happening in 1963 to be funny. Without even knowing who most of these actors are, the movie is still funny. And most of the cast is dead by now.

So what makes it funny? Time-honored, universal humor. Milton Berle, traveling with his wife and his constantly badgering mother-in-law, Ethel Merman. Jonathan Winters, becoming enraged, and destroying a gas station. The chase through the abandoned building; all of these gags were probably first written is Latin, if not Ancient Greek or Sanskrit.

And how could I forget the star of the movie, Spencer Tracy? He is the cop who has been looking for the money Durante stole for 15 years. Driven to madness by his annoying wife and daughter, he is the joker in the deck that creates the madness in the last 30 minutes of the movie.

A few hours to kill, especially on a snowy Friday night; a few good beers and somebody to laugh with you. The perfect combination for a viewing of It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World.

Did I See This In The News?

Sometimes it s impossible to satirize a situation.

I have posted about my new favorite site, Duffel Blog. 100% military satire. Including this article. I think.

Just how much Cultural Awareness do we need? Just how many times have our Marines had the idea that they need to be 'culturally aware' of the enemy?

And who on the other side is making sure they are culturally aware of us?

Yeah; that's what I thought.

I Can See That Happening

This is flat amazing. Just the construction of the device (?) is a head scratcher. And then he dumps water in it.

I was out to a site I visit occasionally, There I Fixed It, the home of Redneck Repairs.

I don't know what he fixed, or even how it was broken, but the video is amazing.

And I have no idea how it was done, but I suspect some sort of video trickery.

Or maybe dark magic.

As Usual, I Got Lost On the Internets

Out and about on the Internets, I found this.

UH; What?

Okay, I understand the show, and understand the reason why folks would want to watch the running of high steel.

That's not my problem.

But what does this have to do with weather?

I mean any more so that any other outdoor job? I would think a show about farming and farmers would be more apropos on the Weather Channel.

I guess they're looking for diversity.

Maybe they should change their name to the Whether Channel?

Life Imitates Art

I just can't help myself. This year the elections are following O Brother, Where Art Thou? so closely its uncanny.

Just after the Republicans had a couple of Hispanic speakers at their convention- Governors and Senators- the Dems pull up the Mayor of San Antonio Texas as a speaker.

Reminds me of this scene:



The Money Line is of course:
Junior O'Daniel: We could hire our own midget, even shorter than his.
Pappy O'Daniel: Wouldn't we look like a bunch of Johnny-come-latelies, bragging on our own midget, doesn't matter how stumpy.


And since the Republicans had a speaker who has changed sides because of Obama, the Dems had to have one too. The Repubs had Arthur Davis, the Democratic Representative who seconded the nomination of Obama 4 years ago.

The Dems had a Former Republican Firefighter. Is that the best Party Traitor they could find?

Throwing up their midget, no matter how stumpy. I tell ya, this year the parodies are writing themselves.

A New Guilty Pleasure

I saw This on Instapundit today, and I think I have found a new guilty pleasure.

The article that lead me there, President Obama To Receive Honorary Green Beret, Induction Into Special Forces Association, was hilarious, once I was sure it was satire. Some of the other titles are obviously satire.

At least, I hope. But then, a course like this would have been welcomed, back in my day.

They have a whole section for each branch of the Service. The Air Force Section has articles on such varied topics as:

Brave Airman Sends Steak Back At DFAC, Fights For Well Cooked Meal; and ISAF Drops Candy To Afghan Children, Kills 51.

There seems to be a certain lack of political correctness involved here; classic satire.

Back in my day we didn't have this Internet thingy, but we did have the bathroom walls. In an effort to control the writing on the walls, our young second lieutenant had legal pads hung in all of the stalls in our duty section. 

There were various things written on the pads, including a rather lengthy treatise on how we need to rise up and act as one to fight the tyranny of the Strategic Air Command.

I don't know whether it was my handwriting that was distinctive, or maybe it was the writing style or the opinions expressed where identifiably mine, but the next afternoon when I showed up at the office, I was immediately called into the NCOIC's (Non-Commissioned Officer, In Charge {and no, I'm not making that up}) office, and was confronted with my previous post, as it were.

After being asked if I had written the treatise, and confirming I had, I was told it was very well written satire, but there were other young Airmen in my section who may not be as well versed in the art of satire, and may take the satire as truth, and things like this may cause those other young Airmen trouble within the unit.

I smiled, nodded, and confirmed I would not write any similar treatises, for the sake of my fellow young Airmen.

All the while I was wondering: "What makes him think this is satire? I was serious as Hell!"

Last Night Was Great

Best Quotes from the Republican Convention. I think they missed one; "I can't tell him to do that. I can't tell him to do that to himself."

Clint Eastwood was great last night. And you how I know exactly how much damage he did to Obama? Look at the reaction from the left. They have called him everything from dimwitted to senile. And Obama tweeted a picture of himself in his Presidential chair in response.

And then Marco Rubio. If we aren't calling him President Rubio in 20 years there is no justice in this world.

Now comes the hard part. The Republicans have talked the talk. Once we elect them will they walk the walk?

I freely admit I ain't much of a Republican; I'm a register Independent with definite Libertarian leanings. I have voted Republican since Reagan because I have never seen a Democrat I trusted enough to vote Libertarian.

We trusted them before, remember? They had the House, The Senate and the White House for 6 years. They screwed us in 2000, but we blamed the War on Terror. They screwed us in 2004; again, we blamed the War on Terror. In 2006, we fired a warning shot. They ignored it, and in 2008 we tried the Democrats.

Yeah, that really worked out well, didn't it.

In 2012 my guess is we will try them again, hopefully with both elected branches.

And then what?

The big trouble with our two party system is that it currently is a choice between Bad and Worse; Dumb and Dumber. In 2008 we thought nobody could out spend Bush.

We were wrong.

Lord, how we were wrong.

So its back to Dumb from dumber. Maybe.

We have Rand Paul now, and the Tea Party. All we can do is hope that makes a differnce.

How Do You Define Macho?

One of the items I read on Instapundit this morning was this piece: Ten Macho Movies Every Man Should See.

Wow; what a list. First; its from Popular Mechanics.

Say What? Why is an article like this in Popular Mechanics? I mean, the same magazine that at one time brought us plans for a do-it-yourself mini-submarine is now doing macho man movie reviews?

I don't know who developed this list, but my guess he is about 23, and has no idea what macho is all about. He is probably also a metro-sexual, who pulled some old movie names off of IMBD just so the crap he wanted to watch would at least look like it had some balance.

The comments section is just loaded with better movies that the junk in the current list.

For the record, I have seen the first five movies on the list, and not (Thankfully) any of the last 5. Of the five I have seen, Wrath of the Khan is the only one I have seen more than twice.

Maybe I just don't understand his version of macho (I keep saying HE, but it doesn't say who wrote the article; it is equally possible it was written by a she, or a they I suppose), or is his version just blood and violence?

To me, macho isn't so much about violence as manliness. The ability to defend yourself is of course a component of macho, but not the basis for it. I checked Wikipedia for their definition, an didn't like any I liked. They seemed to be rather down on the concept.

I also checked the Urban Dictionary; Home run! Definition #9:

Macho: Description of someone manly, specifically someone who ignores or endures discomfort to maintain the appearance of manliness.

The height of macho is jogging home after your own vasectomy.

That I think sums it up. Except... I'm not sure that a definition of Macho should include the word vasectomy?

UPDATE- I was asked today what is my opinion of the epitome of the Macho in a movie?

That's easy; John Wayne in The Shootist, his last film. The King of Macho.

I Have Some Favorite Comic Strips

And of course they are old strips. The Far Side; Bloom County; Calvin and Hobbes. I guess you can see the similarities, if you have ever read any of these strips in the paper.

But we are now in the digital age; some strips are available on the internets. One that I get to read everyday is Calvin & Hobbes.

Just in case you aren't aware, the strip tells the stories of a young boy- age indeterminate, but probably around 8- and his stuffed tiger, Hobbes. Well, actually, Hobbes is only a stuffed tiger for the rest of the world; he is a real tiger to Calvin.

It is usually Hobbes who has created the havoc that gets Calvin in trouble. Well, except for the trouble Calvin gets into on his own. Calvin is an only child; for very obvious reasons. Calvin will occasionally conduct a poll of the children in the house (Calvin) and warn Dad that his popularity is slipping based on, among other things, his support for an early bedtime. Dad usually takes these pronouncements in stride, aware that a coup is unlikely, although Calvin will usually threaten one.

Yesterday's strip was a classic:

You can almost hear the chorus of "Been There, Done That" from the readers.

Something I did not know, until a few days ago, that the creator of Calvin and Hobbes is a native Ohioan; is a graduate from Kenyan College, and also has a Cincinnati connection.

It seems that when Bill Watterson did a stint as the Editorial Cartoonist for the Cincinnati Post back in 1980. He didn't last too long; just his six month trial period, but I'm going to call it a blessing. Had he left a mark as a Political Cartoonist, he would not have developed a favorite strip of mine.

At that would have been a real loss.

Today, In the Comics

 

One of the things that allowed me to cut the newspaper cord was finding a free site for online comic strips. Sports I have always been able to do without; weather was easy; look out the dang window, and the radio will always give me the news, along with the internet.

But I had to have my Comics fix. It just ain't Sunday without the full-color, multi-panel update on the latest adventures of Beetle Bailey and a couple other dozen characters.

One day I stumbled on Go Comics. My comic strip fix was in the bag.

Now every morning I can sit at my computer and read a collection of the strips that I want to see, without having to skip over Mary Worth and Rex Morgan, awhile wishing the paper would replace them with something I want to read.

Life is Good.

But I told you that story to tell you this one.

This morning I ran across this comic:

If this doesn't capture the hipster-dufus as a parent perfectly, I don't know what does. Well, except that they seem to have large coffee mugs instead of Starbucks cups.

This one panel and one line covers everything. The kid is crying; its normal to cry (if you are a hipster-dufus anyway) if you are emotionally upset, so the baby must be emotionally upset, and needs therapy. And it is 'dad' (?) saying this, while holding his purse. Immediately the crying of his child has become a problem somebody else needs to deal with.

Classic liberal thinking: I have determined that this issue is not my problem (because, hey; I don't feel like dealing with it); the rest of you need to handle it.

Doesn't that cover almost anything? Homelessness? Government programs. Hunger? Government programs. Still hungry? Larger Government programs. Name an issue? Lets get a Government Program to handle that.

Once he has begun a Government Program to handle the issue, the liberal is done. He no longer needs to worry about (Fill in the Blank Issue), because the Government is handling that now.

Which is probably why our young hipster-dufus parents are ready to take their child to therapy; the Government is handling the bill, so no worries.

I also found a second strip today that I just had to comment on. In some of my posts, I have casually mentioned, the fact that I like to drink beer (Apologies to Tom T. Hall). And one of my favorite places to drink beer is the Hofbrau Haus in Newport Kentucky, especially in weather like this in the Bier Garten,

Well, apparently I have been missing the point.

 

This can be considered a HOBBY!

Who knew?

Some Memories Just Won't Die

You know I let an anniversary slip by yesterday. It was July 22, 1982 that I became a civilian, after 4 years and 4 days of military service.

It's hard to believe I have been a Civilian that long. Hell, at the time I got out I would have sworn I had already spent 30 years IN the Air Force.

Today; 30 years later, I still don't get through a week with remembering something about that 4 years. I of course have mementos around, but usually it is someone, something or some event that triggers an old memory.

Just tonight I was driving down a suburban street and ran across a sign that said 'SPEED BUMP", and a couple of home-built speed bumps. It put in mind of the Trailer park that once (maybe still is? Yep. Still is) outside Grand Forks Air Force Base. The one gravel street down the middle of that park was nothing more than a series of ruts and potholes. A friend of mine lived over there, and I can tell you it was terrible. Everybody complained about the condition of the road. The guy who owned the place had a solution though. He just put a Speed Bump sign and went about his business.

Every time I had to do some small repetitive task at work I recall some of the things I had to do as part of my job. Paperwork. My God, Napoleon believed that an Army moved on its stomach; The Air Force believed it was pushed by its mountain of paperwork. From after form after form. And all of them had numbers. And effective dates. Heaven help you if you used and outdated form. Or used a 1356b, when the 1357a was actually required.

I still recall the first form I was introduced to in Basic Training (3743 BMTS- Basic Military Training Squadron. MOTTO: Lead, Follow or Get Out of the Way {amazing what the minds remembers, ain't it? But don't ask for my cell phone number}); the 341. And no, I don't remember the suffix letter. I don't believe there was one. A 341 was a disciplinary record. the form itself had to folded just so; I think in half length-wise, and then in half again, then the top half inch was folded over and that tab was used hold the form under the flap of your left breast pocket, left side of the pocket. This way when an infraction was committed, the 341 was 'pulled', filled in by your MTI- Military Training Instructor- and then became part of your 'PERMANENT RECORD'.

I had the dubious pleasure of having a 341 pulled one Sunday morning while I was on Dorm Guard. Which reminds me of another funny story. Each training squadron was filled with Flights of 50 men or 50 women. Some thing I don't recall- so maybe I never knew- was how many flights were in each Squadron. But any rate, each flight had what was called a sister flight, so you had a group of 100 that went through Basic together. Did I mention that the 3743 BMTS was a training Squadron for women? Yep; 900 women, or there abouts, and 100 men. And the US Air Force did their level best to keep us separated.

But I told you that story to tell you this one.

Because we were in a female squadron, our flight had one male MTI, and one female MTI, as did our sister flight. Our female MTI was Airman First Class (A1C) Budd. I am fairly sure that she was not issued a first name.

Any rate, there I am on Sunday morning doing my stint as Dorm Guard. There is a knock at the door. I look out the window in the door to see who is beating the door down on a Sunday morning. It's A1C Budd. I knew who it was. I had seen her everyday for the last 4 weeks. But regulations required I ask for an ID. So I did. As usual, she began some tirade about 'Don't you know who I am; how can you not recognize your own MTI and so on. But I knew the drill, and stood my ground. She produced her ID, which I examined through the door, and then let her in.

As I stood back and opened the door A1C Budd entered the dorm. As she came abreast of me, she looked at me with an inquiring look. "Aren't you supposed to say something?", she asked. Basking in the glow of my recent success with the ID procedure, my mind went temporarily on vacation. So my mouth took over control. I said, "UH.... Good Morning Ma'am?"

And I had a 341 pulled. The one that I had folded Day One of Basic, 4 weeks ago. And had been in my pocket through 4 weeks of July and August Texas heat. It had lost some of its shape. Hell, it had lost MOST of its resemblance to a solid object. I'm not sure I could have even been unfolded. She accepted the 341 and marched to the MTI office. I don't know if she ever filled it out or not.

What was my infraction? As a warning to men in my Flight I was required to shout "Lady Entering the Dorm" when ever we had females in the dorm. But Hell; she wasn't a Lady.

She was my damn Drill Instructor.

Is You Is, Or Is You Ain't...

I watched O Brother Where Art Thou? last weekend for probably the fiftieth time. Yeah, I know it's a George Clooney movie; I like it in spite of him. The music is just flat great; the other actors are superb and it fulfills my basic requirements for a movie; a good story, convincingly told.

But that's not what I'm writing about today. Today our focus is a little tighter.

In case you aren't aware of the movie, and its various plots, one of the plots concerns the gubernatorial election in the state of Mississippi, where Governor 'Pappy' O'Daniel is being challenged by a fellow by the name of Homer Stokes. Toward the end of the movie Stokes is having a campaign event where George Clooney and his fellow escapees show up and barge the stage and sing a couple of songs.

Just prior to this scene Clooney  and company had busted up a KKK lynching that was being led by Stokes.

When he sees Clooney and his crew up on the stage he grabs a microphone and proceeds to denounce the crew in some rather vague but specific racial terms. He finishes his speech with the line:

"Is you is, or is you ain't my constituency?" (video at the link)

What the Hell is the meaning of this post? If you watched the video- and remember this movie is from 2000- I can't help but see Obama as Homer Stokes.

He is out on the campaign trail almost daily, and although they have not physically pulled the plug on his microphone or run him out of town on a rail, it is happening metaphorically.

Look at Nancy Pelosi, recommending nobody go to the Democratic Convention for crying out loud.

I can just see Homer Obama standing in the middle of an empty hall, shouting "Is you is, or is you ain't my constituency?", while Pelosi bends down to unplug his mike.

Sometimes Life does imitate Art.

Yeah About That Idea I Had...

Coming home from work I had a great post all worked up. The title; the setup; the final joke.

And then I with the storm of the century and lost it all.

For me writing is a mental activity. I usually am performing some physical task while my mind wanders off and occupies itself.

When it comes back it has a story to tell. All I have to do is write it down, while I remember it.

And, as Shakespeare said it, 'therein lies the rub.'

Mentally, I am done with the post. And then I sit down in front of the keyboard and  I go blank. And wind up doing a sports post like this one.

Why do I call this a sports post? Its a fishin' and huntin' post.

I start off fishin' and huntin' for an idea, and then wind spending all my time talkin' about the one that got away.

Rim shot, please? A little help here? What does it take to get a rim shot in this joint?

Ya Wanna Rethink That Choice?

Yesterday I put up this post, and this morning I heard somethng on the radio I just had to add.

Apparently Obama stopped at Skyline Chili for lunch before he left town.

For lunch he had two cheese coneys and a Bean 4-way.

He declined the onions because of meetings he had later in the day.

Considering the orifice he mostly comminicates from, I would have thought skipping the Beans would have been more appropriate.

I also heard that only 1200 folks showed up; for a hall that holds 3500. And the one they interviewed on the radio was from North Carolina.

Toast.

When the Quiet of a Sunday Morning is Broken

So, there I am over at Althouse's place this morning, minding my own business, when I get accosted by a fart video.

Not what you expect on a quiet Sunday Morning.

But then curiosity got the better of me.

Did you know YouTube has thousands of videos with the key word 'fart'? Who knew?

Where does this prurient interest come from? Is there an actual desire to watch people fart on video that doesn't exist in real life? Of course, video farting does have its merits- all of them olfactory.

But, as usual, I digress.

It has often been said that humor is simply a look at someone else's troubles, a position I heartily endorse. A public fart is usually-hopefully- somebody else's embarrassment and problem.

I think everyone can describe at least one episode where passing gas has embarassed them. Or at least SHOULD have embarrassed them; we all have the problem.

When it happens to us, it's embarrassing. When it happens in front of us, its funny.

My youngest brother has instituted a series of photographic opportunities for group photos that he has given various names, such as '"Point to the Bird"; "Serious Face" and "X Farted".

Every one of our Family photo shoots has some variation on these themes.

Including the ones taken at my brother's recent wedding. With a small variation.

All of the kids agreed that when my youngest brother called for a "Serious Face" photo, all of the kids would do a "Mom Farted" pose.

It turned out CLASSIC.

Mom is sitting in the middle of the group of her (allegedly) adult children, looking as serious and as stoic as is possible, while everyone else is posing with the most exaggerated reactions possible to a recent 'gas attack'.

The moment only lasted a split second, because we took this photo on the dance floor at the reception, and the reaction of the guests was immediate laughter. Mom started looking around out of the corner of her eye, saw what we were doing and cracked up laughing.

But the photographer caught that split second. And the next few shots of Mom realizing what was going on and joining in on the laughter.

My Mom had that picture framed as an 8X10 and proudly displays it in the living room. And my Brother has posted it to Face Book.

So, if you happen to spot a picture somewhere of a group of gentlemen in Tuxedos and women in the finery reacting to a public fart from a well dressed and stoic woman in the center of them, that will be us. I'm the one in the middle, in the back, with my eyes crossed.