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BS: The Mother of all BS threads

Acme 14 May 10 - 02:06 PM
Little Hawk 14 May 10 - 12:49 PM
MMario 14 May 10 - 12:34 PM
Little Hawk 14 May 10 - 12:27 PM
Rapparee 14 May 10 - 12:21 PM
Little Hawk 14 May 10 - 11:51 AM
Amos 14 May 10 - 11:31 AM
Acme 14 May 10 - 10:26 AM
Acme 14 May 10 - 09:59 AM
Rapparee 14 May 10 - 09:35 AM
Eiseley 14 May 10 - 08:55 AM
Acme 13 May 10 - 11:51 PM
Rapparee 13 May 10 - 10:01 PM
Amos 13 May 10 - 09:49 PM
Rapparee 13 May 10 - 08:09 PM
Amos 13 May 10 - 07:13 PM
Acme 13 May 10 - 07:07 PM
Rapparee 13 May 10 - 06:48 PM
MMario 13 May 10 - 04:32 PM
Amos 13 May 10 - 03:21 PM
Rapparee 13 May 10 - 03:15 PM
Rapparee 13 May 10 - 03:02 PM
MMario 13 May 10 - 12:53 PM
Amos 13 May 10 - 12:22 PM
Eiseley 13 May 10 - 12:17 PM
MMario 13 May 10 - 12:15 PM
Rapparee 13 May 10 - 11:34 AM
Amos 13 May 10 - 11:17 AM
MMario 13 May 10 - 11:02 AM
Amos 13 May 10 - 10:18 AM
Eiseley 13 May 10 - 09:00 AM
Rapparee 13 May 10 - 08:26 AM
Amos 12 May 10 - 11:26 PM
GUEST,Eiseley 12 May 10 - 10:50 PM
Rapparee 12 May 10 - 10:26 PM
gnu 12 May 10 - 10:02 PM
Rapparee 12 May 10 - 09:45 PM
Acme 12 May 10 - 09:36 PM
Little Hawk 12 May 10 - 09:21 PM
Amos 12 May 10 - 06:34 PM
Acme 12 May 10 - 03:17 PM
MMario 12 May 10 - 03:05 PM
GUEST,Eiseley 12 May 10 - 03:02 PM
Rapparee 12 May 10 - 02:54 PM
Rapparee 12 May 10 - 02:45 PM
Rapparee 12 May 10 - 02:45 PM
Rapparee 12 May 10 - 02:44 PM
Little Hawk 12 May 10 - 02:03 PM
Amos 12 May 10 - 01:58 PM
MMario 12 May 10 - 01:04 PM
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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 14 May 10 - 02:06 PM

That's your communicator, not your phaser, LH.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 14 May 10 - 12:49 PM

Captain Kirk: "Set phasers to 'emasculate' and target that...codpiece!"

(VREEEEEEP! VREEEEEEEP!)


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: MMario
Date: 14 May 10 - 12:34 PM

*guffax* Look at that dried up whithered piece of fish!


Haha! It looks really.....

oh - wait!

That's not a piece of fish....


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 14 May 10 - 12:27 PM

LOL!!! That's the spirit!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 14 May 10 - 12:21 PM

Ta-Da! I leap into the center of the room rapier in hand, wearing cavalier boots, a cape, a plumed hat, and a piece of cod....


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 14 May 10 - 11:51 AM

Ta-Da!!!

(I Leap into the centre of the room, wearing a monkey suit and a set of Groucho Marx glasses & mustache, and brandishing a cattle prod...)


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 14 May 10 - 11:31 AM

355 and ninety-oh
Was writ about a radio
Worn by a folkie lady-oh
All in the month of May

355 and ninety-one
Was writ by a witless mother's son
Just to find a bit o' fun
On the banks of the shimmering Tay

355 and ninety two
Will be writ by someone much like you
Who has nothing better for to do,
All in the month of May.

355 and ninety-three
(Posted by someone much like me)
Will fill the hall with mirth and glee
(If it all turns out that way)

And 255 and ninety-four
Will bring us closer, one step more
Toward 355, six hundred's door
All in the month of May

(Doggerel from a scrap of Elizabethan parchment found in the midden of Mohamme-on-Lyne, dated to approximately May 1601)


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 14 May 10 - 10:26 AM

I couldn't resist: There was a link for this radio at epinions. I used to write over there, but I don't feel like using that old name and I've about abandoned that email (Yahoo won't let me download it unless I pay them to, so I don't use it much). Here's the review, let's see if they leave it alone:

Great little portable analog headset radio
by maggie76134, May 14 '10

I've had one of these that I bought in 1997. I've changed a few batteries, but for the most part, this reliable little radio keeps going and going. It's perfect for using when I'm doing quiet tasks (I wouldn't be able to hear it when the mower is running) and moving around a lot. I prefer the headset to having to keep track of the dangling earplug cord from an mp3 player.

Sometimes when I turn on this little radio I have to jostle the am/fm switch to get it to seat itself in the fm setting. Once there, I don't need to fool with it while wearing it.

The nice thing about this little radio is that it rests around your neck when you don't need it, and it doesn't have any dangling wires to catch in things. I also don't like earbuds, I prefer earphones, and this radio is your classic headphone setup.

Epinions asks for a longer review for revenue share, but there seems to be only one of these radios listed anywhere now, and that is $170 over at Amazon. Way too high, considering that I bought mine for $20 at Fred Meyer in Marysville, Washington, the fall my father died and I needed a radio to listen to without lugging one of his tiny little transistor radios around and setting it in whatever room or part of the property I was working on.

So, if you stumble across one of these and it is modestly priced at a garage sale, I'll say snatch it up, find yourself a clean pair of foam rubber earpads, and send me a nickel to cover my bit of the revenue share that epinions is offering if I write this longer review.

Enjoy your new / old radio!

Pros:
Adjustible headpiece stablilizes headgear. Sound is great, tuner is good. This 14-year-old radio works great.

Cons:
Sometimes I jiggle am/fm switch to stay in fm mode. Only when first turned on.

The Bottom Line:
This is an excellent little out of production radio. If you find one somewhere and it works, pick it up. You'll enjoy it.

Overall Product Rating:
Product Rating: 5.0 Excellent


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 14 May 10 - 09:59 AM

I had it tuned to two NPR stations and a classical station. Who knows what it will pick up in the meantime. This thing is in mint condition--chances are high I won't get it back again. Might as well buy myself another one of these days. But the thing I listen to more often is an old $20 AM/FM Sony Walkman headphone radio. I've had it since 1997, when I was working on my Dad's estate and didn't want to carry a portable radio around with me. The headset was easier.

Here is an image from Amazon. And good lord, it lists for $179. Maybe I should sell mine and buy a good mp3 player. . . but I listen to this more than the mp3 player. . .

The devil on my shoulder had me go into that Amazon page and write a positive review that said the radio is great, but it's a $20 radio.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 14 May 10 - 09:35 AM

You actually think that the MP3 player will WANT to remember some of that music? Isn't it much more likely that suddenly the finale to Beethoven's 9th or Tchaikosky's 1812 will suddenly burn her son's ears?

MP3 players have feeling too, ya know.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Eiseley
Date: 14 May 10 - 08:55 AM

One reason I was so happy to get my new piano is because it is the one my sisters and I learned on and my dad played all the time. By now it is absolutely stuffed full of hundreds, even thousands of pieces of music. Now I just have to figure out how to access all those songs myself!

So I understand about your mp3 player, Stilly. After it's had to play all the stuff your son listens to, how will it remember to play your music? It might switch to playing Metallica (or whatever) at the most inappropriate moments!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 13 May 10 - 11:51 PM

My son has just borrowed my mp3 player to take with him on a field trip tomorrow. We took out my card, full of classical and folk music, and he used his card, stuffed full of rock. It may never be the same again, after this trip. (His mp3 player is the same make and model, bought at the same time, but while mine gets used once every couple of weeks, his is used several hours a day. His earphone jack is getting worn out.)


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 13 May 10 - 10:01 PM

Yes, she does. I only have ladies in my home office: Eiseley, my wife, Judy Nelson, and others. The Legion Hovel is a different story entirely. Located about four miles away, the denizens there are, well, uncouth, rude, drunken, loutish and if they weren't so danged all-out nice people they'd have ended up like Shame McBride. Remember, just because you've fallen face-down into the gutter and are laying in a pool of your own whiskey-laden vomit doesn't mean you're not a good person, even if you did get the money for the drink by rolling other drunks.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 13 May 10 - 09:49 PM

Does your wife know you are having ladies into your home office, Rapaire?


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 13 May 10 - 08:09 PM

Gilda Lilly is a regular at the Legion Hovel. I was told she's called "Gilda the Good" for reasons I shan't go into with ladies present.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 13 May 10 - 07:13 PM

I would think burnishing shrubbery would be something like gilding the lily. No?


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 13 May 10 - 07:07 PM

Interesting that the shrub was a lilac. Lie-like. . .


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 13 May 10 - 06:48 PM

I'm going to tell Trixie on you.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: MMario
Date: 13 May 10 - 04:32 PM

NOw, Amos. Rapaire doesn't sit around writing swamp stories all day. He spends part of the time trying to hatch golfs and part of the time looking for his muse in burnish shrubberies.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 13 May 10 - 03:21 PM

I wish I was retired so I could sit around and write Swamp stories all day...


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 13 May 10 - 03:15 PM

Yes, Eiseley, I will. It's one of several unfinished Swamp stories.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 13 May 10 - 03:02 PM

"Balls!" said the tree. "If I had another...."


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: MMario
Date: 13 May 10 - 12:53 PM

Amos - that was sneaky!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 13 May 10 - 12:22 PM

They must have slathered that golf ball with tee-tree oil to get it in there...



A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Eiseley
Date: 13 May 10 - 12:17 PM

Please share the finished story with us when you use "Trixie's" idea.

As for planting golf balls, here is a photo of a chopped-down golf ball tree. Apparently it takes awhile for the outer casing of the seed to completely dissolve.

And here is the rest of the story.

Eiseley


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: MMario
Date: 13 May 10 - 12:15 PM

Just remember that golf eggs need to either be cooked VERY rapidly, or simmerred for a long time. Otherwise they are rubbery as heck.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 13 May 10 - 11:34 AM

I have had a revelation, a flash of inspiration on how to end an unended story.

There I was, combing the backyard for golf eggs (little white round eggs with dimples all over them) to see if I could find even one that would hatch out into a golf (I think golfs have fertility problems) when I noticed the lilac bush was burning without being consumed.

I ran to get the hose, but a voice said, "Hey! Hold it! It's just me, Trixie, your muse, and I'm in this burning bush because I'm having a bad hair day."

So I stopped and we chatted a bit and Trixie gave me the ending for the story and pointed out another golf egg. We had a glass of wine and she took off to her hairdresser's place. Unfortunately, she forgot to turn off the lilac bush and so I had to hose it down anyway. Fortunately I don't think the fire interfered with it's annual blooms.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 13 May 10 - 11:17 AM

Three five five and seventy posts
Have offered fodder to our ghosts,
To draw them out from bars of brain
In to a boundless BS plane.

A plane where freds and duck-dogs thunder
And souls can dance all night in wonder
Spinning long tales devoid of stress
Under the night sky of BS.

Awesome tales of love and plunder!
Loop-the-loop and shoot-the-bumber!
Chimps and hamsters, Joe the Plumber!
Brought us to this towering number.

Abandon care, abandon brain,
Come forth, and do it all again!
Throw off dull care, say "What the fuck!"
And dance with Ariel and Puck.

Shakim Wilpier
"Essays in ESL"
Qaddafi Publications, Bizerte, Tunisia 1981


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: MMario
Date: 13 May 10 - 11:02 AM

He said it had "passed". Even kale and spinach and liver are olny retained for so long.....


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 13 May 10 - 10:18 AM

The man who brought the BookMobile and small-arms fire to the Public Library--not magnetic?   Surely you jest!!


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Eiseley
Date: 13 May 10 - 09:00 AM

You mean you're not magnetic anymore?


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 13 May 10 - 08:26 AM

All of that has long passed.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 12 May 10 - 11:26 PM

GReat tale, MAestro!


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: GUEST,Eiseley
Date: 12 May 10 - 10:50 PM

Absolutely wonderful, Rapaire. Thank you. And just in time for the boys' bedtime story!

But don't you get scared that someone will fire an iron bullet in your vicinity, or that your gun will stick in your hand and you can't drop it fast enough when the cops start coming?

Eiseley


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 12 May 10 - 10:26 PM

National Institutes of Health (US).

Health/Sante Canada.


Wikipedia.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 12 May 10 - 10:02 PM

LH, indeed.

Cell phones are especially dangerous. No medical studies yet. But, after my cousin's rough go during which he was "advised" by one of the top such docs in New York (a relativve) who is backed up by same on the west USA coast, and after I had a "lump" under my right ear removed, I don't use a cell any more. I just don't.... didn't have one for decades so I don't NEED one now.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 12 May 10 - 09:45 PM

And now, Ladies and Gentlemen of MOAB, back by popular demand:

         Blood.

         Blood was everywhere, it seemed. Mostly it was inside of us, which was fortunate or things would have been awfully messy, like it was when someone got cut and blood would leak out. Then you had to plug up the leak with a band-aid or a cork or something, because if someone lost too much blood they could die or worse.

        Blood, we learned in school, was the thing that carried oxygen and stuff to your body. Well, we really learned that something called hemoglobin worked with iron to attach oxygen to the iron and the iron was carried in the arteries all over the body, and the oxygen was released wherever it was needed. Then the blood came back through the veins to pick up another load of oxygen.

        "Blood," Tony observed, "is just liquid rust."

        Blood was the key, though, to Tony's plan to win the Great Stillman's Run Road Race. Tony had done a lot of research at the library, even reading a couple of books completely through, and they didn't even have many pictures and did have little tiny type. So after he understood about blood carrying oxygen, he figured that the more oxygen that could be carried by the blood the better someone could run. And the better they could run, the better the chance that they would win the race.

        Blood, he decided, was key and the blood he chose was mine. I was amazed and awed and awfully outraged when he told me.

        "Blood!? You want to pump someone's blood into me so I can run faster?" I asked him, unbelievingly.

        "Blood is key to winning," he replied. "But we don't have to pump someone else's blood into you, although I did consider using a greyhound's blood, because they can run awfully fast. But I decided that it wouldn't be necessary, that all we had to do was to improve the amount of oxygen your own blood carried. Besides, I don't know where to get a greyhound."

        "Bloody good of you," I muttered.

        "Blood is made up of hemoglobin and iron," Tony started.

        "Blood is made up of that and a lot of other things," I replied.

        "Blood," he continued unperturbed, "uses iron to carry the oxygen. So if we increase the amount of iron in your blood, you'll carry more oxygen. The more oxygen, the faster you'll run. The faster you run, the sooner you'll cross the finish line and win the prize and make us filthy rich, or at least pretty wealthy."

        "Why, pray tell, me?" I asked.

        "Because as the oldest you are the tallest and therefore have the longest legs," he replied. "Even though I, or even Ted, can outrun you now, you'll be able to really fly along when you've had enough iron and the oxygen is really flowing in your veins."

        "So how do I get this iron? Eat a car or something?"

        "No. Ted checked on that, and all you have to do is to eat liver and broccoli and kale and spinach and stuff like that."

        "Oh," I replied, underwhelmed with the whole idea. Little Did I Know Then!

        So I ate foods with iron in them. Spinach. Kale. Broccoli. Kale. Spinach. And lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of liver.

        Tony kept trying to stick pins in me to see if my blood was red enough. He said that if there was plenty of iron in my blood it would be really, really, really red, especially if it came from an artery. Luckily, I was able to prevent him from doing this, but I had to watch him all the time!

        Even in church. One Sunday he managed to stick a pin in me as I was sitting down in the pew. After I yelled he was embarrassed to have done it, what with all of the dogs that started to howl and all. And since we were sitting pretty far up front he couldn't pass it off as the organ, either.

        Training commenced. Naturally we wanted to keep it secret so that nobody would know about how fast I was going to able to run – and most importantly, why I was going to be able to go so fast. So we trained in the Swamp.

        Ted and Tony laid out a track for me to run on, clearing away most of the thorn bushes, nettles, cockle burrs, poison ivy, poison oak, poison sumac, deadly nightshade, jimson weed and pansies for what they said was a kilometer, at least. I paced it off and told them that it was only maybe a hundred feet long, but they said that they had measured in meters and that I had measured in feet and since meters were more scientific they were right. Besides, at the end of the track was a great big boulder that not even all three of us could move. They said that it was good that we couldn't move it, because if I got going really fast it would stop me before I could run into the quicksand pool behind it.

        Being good brothers, they even filled in most of the rattlesnake, water mocassin, copperhead, and coral snake holes along the track.

        And so I ran and ate and ate and ran. Tony found a stopwatch somewhere and timed me. He kept detailed records of my time, and found that sometimes I ran faster than at other times. He decided that the better times were caused by my intake of iron-bearing foods, and pretty soon I was even eating spinach for breakfast!

        Actually, I was getting pretty sick of a diet of liver, spinach, kale and broccoli. One day I had a small ice cream cone and Tony got really mad, even though I paid for it with my own money. That evening I found some hard stuff in my dinner, which turned out to be pieces of rusty nails and wire. Tony explained that he'd put it there to make up for the damage I'd done with the ice cream cone.

        All too soon, according to Tony and Ted, and none too soon according to me, it was the weekend before the great race.   We went out to the Swamp for one last weekend of intensive practice, and Martha came along so that we could show her how well we were doing. She'd put up all of the money we'd bet on the race, and she wanted to see the "sure thing" we told her was going to win.

        We ate lunch – they ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, but I had to eat cold, leftover liver and a spinach salad.

        It must have been this last little bit of iron food that finally did it.

        Lunch was over. I got into the starting position at the beginning of the track.

        "BANG!!" shouted Ted, his water pistol pointed to the sky.

        I took off like a rocket. Everything looked blurred, I was going so fast. Faster, faster, faster – and then everything looked gray! I decided that I had finally gone so fast that all of the colors of light had been left behind!

        I was going so fast that it didn't even feel like I was moving. I wasn't going so fast, though, that pain was outstripped.

        And there was pain! All along the front of my body. And the gray color of light seemed to be sort of wrinkled and hard.

        Voices reached me. Martha, Tony, and Ted's voices.

        "Gee, he's right up against that rock," someone said.

        "Yeah. I wonder why he doesn't move away from it," someone else said.

        "Maybe he's hurt?"

        "Maybe he's dead?"

        "Maybe he's stupid?"

        "Sure is neat the way he keeps his feet off the ground like that, though. Wonder why he doesn't fall?"

        Off the ground? I too wondered why, if that was the case, I didn't fall.

        "What time is it?"

        "What does your watch say? And don't say, 'Tick tock tick tock, either!"

        "I dunno. The hands are moving funny."

        "Look at that piece of wire!"

        "Neat! It's sticking to the rock like Mike is!"

        "Hey, I bet that rock's a big magnet! Or at least part of it is! That's why the wire stuck to it!"

        "Cool! Look out while I toss this old car gear at it!" And something big and heavy flew above my head and stuck to the rock.

        "How come Mike sticks to the rock? He's not metal."

        "His head must be solid steel!"

        "Maybe. Hey! Mike! Are you okay?" Tony yelled.

        "Mm mstck t mrk," I replied. It was hard to talk with my mouth held firmly against the rock.

        "Huh?" said Ted, puzzlement in his voice.

        "I think he said 'I'm stuck to the rock'," said Martha.

        "Hey, Mike!" said Tony. "If you're stuck to the rock, paw the ground once." And he laughed and Ted and Martha laughed too.

        After a few minutes, they stopped laughing. They grabbed me and tried to pull me off the rock. They grunted and groaned and made horrible working sounds, but I just stuck there. Finally, I could feel them pulling on my belt, which was elastic and which must have stretched and stretched and then broke, as the next thing was the sound of three people sitting down very suddenly.

        For a few minutes there was quiet, and I knew that they were thinking. So was I, for that matter. I was thinking about what I was going to do to Tony and Ted if I ever got unstuck from the rock.

        Suddenly, I heard Ted and Tony jump up. I could tell it was them because I heard the hollow sounds of their heads hitting a tree branch.

        "It's the iron in his blood!" shouted Tony.

        "The rock's a big magnet!" shouted Ted.

        "Let's pry him off!" they shouted together. And lickety-split, they were poking at me with a long pole, trying to jam it under me to pry me loose.

        They did get it under me a bit, but when they pulled on it it broke, and from the corner of my eye I could see them sit down suddenly again.

        There they sat, Martha, Tony and Ted, eyeing each other, knowing that they had to get me loose from the rock because Mom might notice if four of us left and only three returned home. At the very least she'd notice that I wasn't at supper.

        Finally, Ted said, "We've got to demagnetize the rock. It's holding him too strongly to do anything else."

        "What will do that?" questioned Tony.

        "Well," said Ted, "I read that if you wrap a big coil of copper wire around a magnet and run an electric current through it you can demagnetize the magnet."

        "Nah," replied Tony. "We don't have any copper wire. And no electricity here. That won't work."

        I was relieved, because knowing them as I did I would probably have been electrocuted.

        They thought some more.

        "I know!" said Tony. "I read that a magnet will demagnetize if you get it real hot!"

        "Great idea!" agreed Ted. And I could hear them gathering sticks and feel them tossing them around my feet.

        "Mike!" Ted shouted, even though I was only a couple of feet away. "We're going to build a big fire and that will demagnetize the rock and free you! It'll only take a few minutes!"

        "NO!" I managed to scream. "DON'T!"

        "Ah, guys," Martha interjected, "you know, you might not only demagnetize the rock. You might burn Mike up doing it, you know."

        "Oh, yeah. We never thought of that," Ted and Tony said together.

        "So, then, I guess we'll just have to leave him hanging there, huh?" questioned Ted.

        "Guess so," Tony agreed. "Well, so long, Mike! We're going on home! Hang in there!" And he laughed.

        "Oh, wait a minute," Martha said, disgustedly. "Try hammering on the rock and see if that will demagnetize it. After all, hammering on a piece of iron in a certain way will make it a magnet, so hammering on it sort of at random should unmagnet it."

        The next second they had all picked up rocks and were pounding enthusiastically on the big rock that was holding me.

        They pounded and pounded. Bits of rock were flying everywhere. When they'd pounded one rock into little pieces they picked up another and kept pounding.

        Martha pounded the base of the rock and up as high as she could reach. Ted stood on Tony's shoulders and they both pounded as high as they could reach that way.

        They pounded the bottom, middle, and top of the rock. They pounded their hands sometimes. Lots of times they pounded me.

        Nothing much happened to free me, though.

        Finally, they all stopped pounding and moved back a little to assess the situation (which means that they were out of breath and wanted to take a break). Tony picked up a pebble and, in frustration, threw it as hard as he could at the big rock.

        The pebble hit near the top. I could feel something happening inside the rock. Then, with a loud CRACK! it fell into many little stones.

        With a muffled THUD! I fell to the ground. With a fairly loud CLANG! the gear that had been stuck above my head hit it, bounced, and rolled away.

        "Ow!" I said. "Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!" You see, the little rocks were still magnets and they were now throwing themselves at me – and sticking.

        Quickly I moved away, and after I got about fifty yards from them the barrage stopped.

        As we walked home, I picked off little rocks and flipped them away. As we walked home Tony enthused about his new plan to win the race: put a giant magnet at the finish line and I wouldn't have to run at all!

        I quietly and firmly suggested to him that if anyone was going to be in the race, it wasn't going to be me. Even if my legs were the longest. Besides, I was very sick of kale, liver, broccoli, and spinach – even Mom could only cook them so many ways!

        We got home just in time to wash up for supper – which was spinach, kale, broccoli, and liver. Except for me – Mom had very thoughtfully made me a hot dog.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 12 May 10 - 09:36 PM

There ya go. Mom has one still wired in the library--you know, the smallish room off of the living room that has a wall of bookshelves, her sewing stuff, and an old fashioned typewriter desk that you have to lift and pull to open. That's where she keeps her Remington Rand.

(Interestingly, it happens to look just like my mother's library in the old house in Everett.)


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 12 May 10 - 09:21 PM

Those big black phones had another advantage. They didn't irradiate your body with high-frequency electro-magnetic waves while you were using them.

All cordless electric devices do that. There are significant negative health effects resulting from it...some individuals being worse affected than others.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 12 May 10 - 06:34 PM

Yeah, they knew how to build them in those days. Big, boxy, heavy, almost unbreakable Bakelite (unless you slammed them with a hammer). Just think how many hours of yearning teenage moonery went on through those big black phones!!


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 12 May 10 - 03:17 PM

I remember trying to use an old dial phone at an apartment we had back in the 1980s. There isn't enough power coming through the lines, I don't think, to run them any more. It takes more juice to make those bells ring.

I was watching one of the really early episodes of Perry Mason last summer and had a great laugh when watching the woman who had been framed for a murder pick up a revolver and drop it into her purse to take to Perry Mason. It occurred to me that if she'd put a 1957 phone in her purse also, she'd have needed a pocketbook the size of a modest piece of luggage. :)


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: MMario
Date: 12 May 10 - 03:05 PM

dry-cured?


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: GUEST,Eiseley
Date: 12 May 10 - 03:02 PM

And Aged to Perfection as well? Or just posted by one who has?


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 12 May 10 - 02:54 PM

And while not prime, it's certainly rare and well-done.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 12 May 10 - 02:45 PM

35553! What a palindrome!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 12 May 10 - 02:45 PM

2.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 12 May 10 - 02:44 PM

Yeah, but with a little more practice I should be spot on the next time.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 12 May 10 - 02:03 PM

Taking a look here, I see that I have not posted in quite some time, relatively speaking.


Did you miss me?   ;-)


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 12 May 10 - 01:58 PM

That is a sad picture, Ms Eiseley. I guess, of course, it is the sign of changing times, but I still had to do a double-take. Not know how to work a rotary phone? Wow... I might have felt the same way confronted, at that age, with a Marconi telegraph key, I suppose. And, I guess, I would have melted with tears too, in that situation. But not now--no, sir!! I would just ask someone.


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: MMario
Date: 12 May 10 - 01:04 PM

Well lackaday; she fit in so well I didn't even Notice that Miss Maniac had come to call.


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