I’m on Dean Koontz’s mailing list because he’s my favorite author. A few times a year, I receive a newsletter from him that mentions his upcoming releases, like The Darkest Evening of the Year, which came out today.

As is often his custom, he includes photos of Trixie, his beloved Golden Retriever that he adopted years ago. Trixie was to have been a service dog, but had a joint problem that required surgery; once a dog has joint surgery, it is no longer eligible to be a service dog, so Trixie was “retired” from the service, and that’s how Dean and his wife, Gerda, were able to adopt her.

The cover of this latest newsletter had a collection of eight photos of Trixie in various poses. There was one with a big smile — the kind only an ever-happy Golden Retriever can give, Trixie in a Santa hat, Trixie wearing Easter bunny ears, and Trixie wearing Sunglasses and doing her best at looking glamorous.

At the top of the page in bold letters, it read, simply, “Trixie Koontz.” The first time I looked at it, my eyes immediately went to the photos of this beautiful dog. It took me a moment to notice the second line:

5 October 1995–30 June 2007

When it comes to animals, particularly those of the canine persuasion, I’m a sap. The biggest sap in the world, in fact. I suppose that not many people would admit that. So to say the least, that line didn’t exactly raise my spirits.

It turns out that Trixie had developed an agressive form of cancer, and facing a painful death as the illness progressed, the Koontzes decided to put her down.  At his website, he describes how Trixie loved to have her head held in his hands while he rubbed her cheeks; Dean and Gerda were holding her when she passed.  And that’s when they learned firsthand how devastating the loss of a dog can be:

“That Saturday was the hardest day of our lives. The pain is more intense than any we have known before. The house seems empty without her, and we feel lost.”

Koontz had made Trixie one of his most popular marketers.  She would write messages to her master’s readers that would be crafted in a style that a dog might use, if a dog could actually write:

“Is big week for me because I am dog. Every week is big when you’re a dog. Every week is full of joy, kibble, plush toys, tennis balls, cookies, tummy rubs, wriggling in grass, and more, when you are dog. Dad doesn’t get kibble or plush toys (don’t know why, except maybe he hasn’t been good boy, good), and he is too embarrassed to wriggle on back in grass, so only fun he gets is having new book in stores.”

He has written a new message from Trixie in which she talks about waiting for her human parents at  Rainbow Bridge.  (If you’ve never heard of it, follow that link at your own risk; I can never get through it without tearing up.)

One of my uncles had owned dogs for years.  But they were outside dogs.  And while he fed them and took care of them, they didn’t spend much time indoors, and there wasn’t a great deal of one-on-one contact.  That changed years ago when he got a poodle mix that he named Petey.  Petey was an inside dog who followed my uncle everywhere.  My uncle suddenly realized that there’s something special about dogs.  Unfortunately, Petey was hit by a car and killed.  When the accident happened, my uncle grabbed him and sat in his living room cradling the dog in a daze.  His son called my parents and asked them to come over quickly, thinking that my uncle might actually die from the shock of the loss.

If you can’t imagine experiencing a loss like this, I genuinely feel sorry for you, because it must mean that you have never allowed yourself to get close to a dog.  Man’s relationship with these wonderful creatures dates all the way back to the caveman days according to early cave drawings.  Though cavemen never had dictionaries, encyclopedias or the internet, they were at least smart enough to recognize that these four-legged mammals were indeed friends.  And all these centuries later, there”s still nothing quite like a good dog.

Comedian George Carlin once said that every cute little puppy should come with a sign that reads, “Warning: This will end badly.”

And yet those of us who love dogs keep walking into that situation, because we’d rather have those precious years with our pets than live without them.  Dogs like Trixie ask for so little, and give so much.

That’s what makes them so special.

We all know that internet messaging creates a set of abbreviations so that people can convey thoughts faster. The most famous of these, I suppose, is LOL (laughing out loud) to express one’s amusement. Some people try to make that a lot more complicated with a ROFLOL (rolling on floor).

Some abbreviations seem unnecessary to me. A good example of this would be NE, which, when read as letters, is a “shortcut” for any. But any is only three letters long to start with: do we really need an abbreviation for a three letter word? How lazy can we be?

Last night, I encountered kewel. Rather than just typing cool, which is a four letter word with only three different letters (which makes it almost as quick to type as any would be), someone took the time not only to misspell it but also to add a letter.

I think all these cell phones and blackberries are turning people’s minds to mush.

Oops…I was supposed to tell this story earlier this week!

Anyway, it was the day before Thanksgiving, and I had made a reservation for an eight-pound ham to take to the parents’ house as part of the big Thanksgiving (diet-unfriendly) feast.

A co-worker of mine had reserved one as well, and since he’s new to the area, he asked if he could follow me to Honeybaked Ham, where our slabs of delicious pork were supposed to be waiting. He asked me how long it should take, and I made a tremendous mistake: I answered the question.

“Oh, about ten minutes or so. They have their process pretty streamlined, so you go in, give them your reservation number, they get your ham and you’re on your way pretty quickly.”

If he hadn’t asked, or if I hadn’t answered, I’m sure it would have gone that way.

Instead, we arrive in the shopping mall to find a line that goes halfway down the strip. This isn’t good, I thought to myself, but tried not to let on.

After a few minutes of standing there, and realizing that the line hadn’t moved an inch, I couldn’t pretend any longer: something was wrong. But what? Fifteen or twenty minutes into the wait, my co-worker and I learned (through word-of-mouth) that the store had run out of hams.

Let me say that again: Honeybaked Ham ran out of ham.

That’s like Chick-Fil-A running out of chicken. Or a salad bar running out of lettuce. But the difference is that when you order a ham, you have to call them in advance and reserve it. So they know how many they’ll need. By the evening before Thanksgiving, it’s unlikely that anyone is going to be successful if they just show up unannounced for a ham.

The bigger problem, from a customer service standpoint, was that we were learning this information second-hand, from whispers that made their way down the line. No one from the store was making the effort to walk down the line and explain the situation. I called the store for details, explaining that I was in line waiting for an explanation as to why we found ourselves in this situation. They apologized for not sending someone to “brave the crowd,” and said that a truck that had been expected earlier still hadn’t arrived, and that a second one had just left Columbia (about an hour-and-forty-minute trip).

We decided to give them a half-hour, then we’d just leave and try again later in the evening. They had assured us that they wouldn’t close until everyone who had reserved a ham for that night got their ham. Within those thirty long minutes, we were told that the first truck was now just twenty miles away. So we decided we’d stay put until it arrived. Twenty miles, after all, shouldn’t be more than about a half-hour since it was traveling mostly by interstate.

The wait, as you have seen from this post’s title, ended up being two hours. My co-worker joked that his ham better be the best ham he’s ever tasted. I added that it should be one you remember for the rest of your life.

Honeybaked, to its credit, did give everyone in line $10 off their bill for the inconvenience. It was a nice gesture and certainly a reasonable one given the circumstances.

It was a very good ham. I haven’t checked back with my co-worker, yet, so I don’t know whether he expects to still remember it in 2057 or not.

One can always hope.

For some of these questions, the topic is a no-brainer. Other times, it takes some real digging to find something that would make an interesting topic.

We just survived another Thanksgiving (and another Thanksgiving dinner), so the topic of things one is thankful for is one of those no-brainers. I thought sure I had asked this last year. Apparently, I didn’t.

• First to play last week: Gabrielle of “A Metamorphoself of Gabrielle.” Congratulations!

On to this week’s question!

THIS WEEK’S QUESTION:
Name seven things that you are thankful for.

Either answer the question in a comment or answer it in your journal and include the link in a comment. (To be considered “first to play,” a link must be to the specific entry in which you answered the question.) You may include this link in the URL space when leaving your comment, or in the comment itself. As long as it’s there in one spot or the other.

My answers:
1. Family
2. Friends
3. My Career
4. Writing Ability
5. My Dogs
6. Health
7. My Blog Readers

As the page for this points out:

“Geeks have one. So do hairy gay men and their admirers.
Isn’t it time bloggers have a code to describe themselves as well?”

I think I’ll ignore the obvious amount of growing questions such a statement inspires and move on.  There is, in fact, a Blogger Code now.  So here is mine:

B9 d t k++ s u– f i- o+ x- e l++ c+

The question is…Is this good or bad?

Visit the page and let me know what yours turns out to be!

It’s funny how discrimination is perceived. Sometimes, we’re sure we’re the targets of it, even when those slights we are so convinced are directed at us aren’t really slights at all.

Earlier this month, a federal judge expressed concern over the suggestion that our current system of currency discriminates against the blind. Blind people have difficulty distinguishing between the dollar bill and, say, a $50 dollar bill. That presents an obvious problem, and forces them, pretty much, to rely either on caregivers, the kindness of strangers, or debit/credit cards.

Some courts have determined, therefore, that our system of currency discriminates against the blind.

The aforementioned judge wasn’t so sure:

“‘Where does this stop?’ asked Judge A. Raymond Randolph. Are postage stamps illegal? Government Web sites? When mail carriers leave handwritten notes on front doors, are they discriminating against blind people?

“‘The National Gallery is having a Hopper exhibit,’ Randolph said. ‘Those paintings, do they violate the Rehabilitation Act?’”

What lengths have to be taken to create completely equal access without “discriminating” against the sighted?

Should art galleries close their doors or be penalized because the blind cannot use their services? Sure, it seems like a silly question. But here’s one that maybe isn’t as silly: should such institutions lose governmental funding because a certain percentage of the population is unable to use them?

The sad reality is that not everyone is equal: there are handicaps. (I’m sorry if that word is offensive, but I’m not sure what the current “politically-correct” substitute for handicap, when used in general terms, is at this particular moment.) Maybe, if I were blind, I might feel differently. I suspect, however, that I would accept the fact that there are limitations that I just have to deal with. Just as I must deal with certain limitations based on my size and fitness level. I don’t demand, for instance, that local municipalities stop funding events like marathons because I haven’t always been in good enough shape to participate.

Our constitution says that all men were created equal. But everyone does have his own unique set of gifts and deficiencies, and no matter how hard society works to equalize those disparities, there’s only so much that can be done.

Am I comparing apples to oranges? Maybe…I’m not sure.

Meanwhile, NBC’s Brian Williams recently came under fire after a comment he made on the air and on his Daily Nightly blog over at MSNBC.com. Continue reading “When Is It (Really) Discrimination?”

Thanks to everyone who sent me emails or left comments acknowledging my birthday.  As birthdays that occur past the 35-year mark happen, it wasn’t so bad.

So here’s my way of returning the favor: offering a new set of six questions!

• First to play last week: Jude of “My Way.” Congratulations!

Here are this week’s “Saturday Six” questions. Either answer the questions in a comment here, or put the answers in an entry on your journal…but either way, leave a link to your journal so that everyone else can visit! To be counted as “first to play,” you must be the first player to either answer the questions in a comment or to provide a complete link to the specific entry in your journal in which you answer the questions. A link to your journal in general cannot count. Enjoy!

1. As a general rule, are you more stressed or less stressed during the holiday season?

2. Do you tend to be happier or sad during the holiday season?

3. How much shopping did you do on the day after Thanksgiving?

4. Take the quiz: What color is your brain?

5. When it comes to Christmas gifts, how organized are you in terms of gift ideas and choosing the right ones for the right recipients?

6. What was the most inaccurate part of the answer you received to the brain color quiz?

If you have a Reader’s Choice question you’d like to see asked (and answered), send me an email! I’d love to be able to include it in a future edition of the Saturday Six.

My answers:
1. Probably a little more stressed.
2. A little more sad.
3. None. Avoided stores like the plague. Too many crazy people for me. (And I know crazy.)
4. Purple

Of all the brain types, yours is the most idealistic.
You tend to think wild, amazing thoughts. Your dreams and fantasies are intense.
Your thoughts are creative, inventive, and without boundaries.
You tend to spend a lot of time thinking of fictional people and places - or a very different life for yourself.
5. Fairly, but that’s probably because I stress myself out to get to that point.
6. I don’t know how “wild and amazing” my thoughts are. Sometimes they may be somewhat “out there.” but I’m hardly rank on the Steve Martin scale of being a “wild and crazy guy.”

I had noticed something missing lately from Tivo’s offerings: classic game shows, like those typically found on GSN (which used to be Game Show Network and now goes only by initials).

For the past week or so, apparently, GSN has been MIA. I called Comcast to ask WTF, though not in those specific terms, and PDQ after pressing the button indicating a “problem” with my service, a recording came on telling me that as of November 16, GSN had been moved to the digital tier at channel 179.

To continue receiving it, the recording explained, I would have to upgrade my service. (Translation: I shell out more money and they’ll give me the channel I’ve been getting for less out of the goodness of their hearts.) Continue reading “Comcast’s Quick Switch”

So today is the big day.  Waking up to realize that you’re 38 feels suspiciously like waking up to realize that you’re 37, with the exception that there is also the notion that you’re another year closer to the dreaded 40.

I’m told that 40 is really where life begins.  Harry Belafonte says that everything up until that moment is a “tryout.”  I think I can live with that.

But I think I’d rather take a page from Jack Benny’s book; next year, once I hit 39, I’m just going to stay at that age.  It worked for my grandmother, who celebrated her 39th birthday for a total of 36 years (counting the real one).

I just wanted to take a moment to wish all of my readers a Happy Thanksgiving.

I hope you have an enjoyable time with friends and family and that you have a great Thanksgiving meal.

And while my profession might lead you to believe that I’d hope you’d spend the day in front of the television, I hope you make room for some real quality time with your loved ones.  That’s infinitely more important than November sweeps.

My last hope on this autumn day is that you take a few moments to think about the things you are thankful for.  No matter who you are, or where you are, there are reasons to be thankful.  I hope that you can find them.

Tomorrow, I’ll tell you my “2-Hour Ham” story.

Depending on where you live, you’ll be getting a healthy helping of The Price is Right on television today.  CBS is running up to three episodes in place of their normal soap lineup, until the NFL game comes on later this evening.

If you’re in the Eastern time zone, the three shows (reruns from earlier this season) play back to back starting at 12:30pm.  In the Central and Mountain time zones, you’ll get one episode, followed by your midday news, then the two remaining shows.

Unfortunately for game show fans in the Pacific time zone, ‘Price’ doesn’t play at all today because of the timing of the kickoff of the game.  I’d recommend an extra slice of pumpkin pie to ease your suffering.

This may be the first real look many people across the country have gotten at Carey’s hosting style since taking over the role from Bob Barker on October 15th.

Pay close attention to the pocket flaps on his suit coats.  For some reason, Carey seems obsessed with rubbing them (as shown in the photo).  It looks like a nervous habit, which is a nice argument for a corded microphone (so you can hold the cable in your other hand) like the one Barker used for the last 35 years.

Yesterday, Aruban police announced the arrests of Dutch student Joran van der Sloot, 20, and two Surinamese brothers, Satish and Deepak Kalpoe, who are 21 and 24 respectively, in the Natalee Holloway case.

Holloway, 18, vanished without a trace back in 2005.  While she has been “presumed dead,” there has been no definitive evidence that she actually died, and no clues as to where she may be.  The three suspects even had conflicting stories about their final hours with her, but they have never admitted anything that would indicate that they were involved in her death.

What is interesting, and it is a question I have not seen asked, is how the three men can have been arrested on “suspicion of involvement in voluntary manslaughter and causing serious bodily harm that resulted in the death” of Holloway if there is no firm evidence that she actually is deceased.

I wonder what this “new evidence” is.  And I wonder how you can truly arrest someone on suspicion of manslaughter or bodily harm resulting in a death if it hasn’t been definitively established that a death ever took place.

First, there was actor/fitness guru Chuck Norris. Now former Arkansas governor and Republican presidential candidate Mike Huckabee has gotten another celebrity endorsement.

This time, it’s from legendary pro-wrestler Ric “The Nature Boy” Flair:

“His authentic conservative qualifications and level of executive leadership experience are unmatched by his opponents. And like I always say, to be the man, you’ve got to beat the man and Mike Huckabee is the man. Whoooooooo!”

Seriously…if there is anyone who’d vote for Huckabee because of either Norris or Flair, those people should have their voting rights revoked.

For life.

Do the country a favor: vote for a candidate because you believe in what they stand for. Not because some celebrity says you should.

By now, you’ve probably seen the commercial for Fruit of the Loom with country star Vince Gill. In the spot, he sings a few bars of a song with the Apple guy and their duet is interrupted by Grape guy’s cell phone.

It turns out, believe it or not, that they actually wrote a lot more than just twenty seconds worth of lyrics. Here, for your enjoyment (or torment), is the full two-and-a-half minute tune. Keep in mind as you listen to what is otherwise a beautiful melody that they’re singing about underwear!

No castle in the south of France,
but what we had were underpants
that made us feel like royalty…

I’d love to have seen the look on Vince Gill’s face when they first pitched this idea.

If one of television’s longest-running shows, Sesame Street, is a children’s show, why do the recently-released first and second season DVD carry a warning?

Sound strange? Here, according to Slashdot, is what the warning says:

“These early Sesame Street episodes are intended for grown-ups, and may not suit the needs of today’s preschool child.”

Say what?

The show’s executive producer, Carol-Lynn Parente, provides an example of some of the “errors” in the show’s early years, involving a skit called “Monsterpiece Theater,” featuring Cookie Monster dressed as Alistair Cookie:

“Alistair Cookie, played by Cookie Monster, used to appear with a pipe, which he later gobbled. According to Parente, ‘That modeled the wrong behavior’ — smoking, eating pipes — ‘so we reshot those scenes without the pipe, and then we dropped the parody altogether.’”

She also points out that the ever-grouchy Oscar is the kind of character they might never have come to be if the show had premiered in 2007 rather than 1969.

This reminds me of classic cartoons that have been re-edited to remove comments and remarks that never raised an eyebrow sixty years ago, that are now potentially offensive. You can’t plop a child in front of a cartoon and walk away, just hoping that the entertainment is wholesome. The child is likely learn so much more if the parent is there to discuss what’s on the screen and to point out that what was funny a while back isn’t funny to some people today. It also gives the chance to talk about characters who, like Oscar, display behavior that is somewhat less than ideal; parents can help their children see why that behavior is unacceptable in a way that doesn’t feel like learning.

That isn’t to say that you should intentionally expose kids to things you know are inappropriate, but that line seems to be in a different place these days in virtually every living room. Sometimes, a little communication goes a long way.