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| President Bushama |
I got a serious telling off for bashing Obama so much in my last letter so I won’t mention him (much) this time but remember y’all, I also gave good ol’ George Dubya a bashing when he was trying to be President so it’s nothing personal (and certainly not racist!). Oh, and by the way, I have no political predilection in the US of A and can’t even vote here; I just pay a whole bunch of American tax to drive on lousy roads, to ensure that there are enough policemen to chat with on frequent occasions, to teach American English and creationism to other people’s kids in American schools and to make sure all the poor, unemployed people have the latest cell phones and stay spherical. I believe that entitles me to bitch and moan a bit.
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| Last of the Summer Wine |
It was also brought to my attention that my letters were becoming more vitriolic and less ‘casually observant’ – criticism well received – and that too is something I will attempt to address. Remember, I don’t have a wife and kids to ‘beat up on’ after work. In Blighty and Europe I enjoyed solving the world’s problems over a few ‘small sherries’ with ‘me best mates down pub’ and that is something I really miss.
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| Men Behaving Badly |
As time moves on though, it would be more akin to “Last of the Summer Wine” than to “Men Behaving Badly” (only Brits will understand that last bit). I suspect that the blog is now pathetically filling that void but the fundamental difference that I must remember to remind myself not to forget is that the blog will still be there in the morning. So be it. Plonk, hic, your round.
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| The lousy Texan roads |
On the subject of lousy roads though, a recent return to Europe and a very pleasant 3 hour drive from the The Hague, Netherlands to Aachen, Germany reinforced my feelings on just how unpleasant it is driving in Houston. Gliding along at a steady 85mph (albeit in a Volvo rental car) on perfectly smooth, tarmac, debris-free roads, passing slower cars and lorries courteously and effortlessly to the left, listening to classical music on the radio against the gentle purr of the tyres and ultimately arriving relaxed, without jaw ache and white knuckles are all things that Europeans take for granted. Of course, the seamed, poured-concrete roads, cracked and crumbling throughout Texas, are perfectly adequate for ‘monster trucks’ and ‘pick-ups’ but are simply miserable for normal cars and especially those with ultralow profile tyres as I have on the Aston and ‘run-flats’ as I have on the Mini. There is a misconception that porous tarmac melts in sub-tropical heat which obviously fails to recognise that some of the best quality tarmac roads in the world are now in the searing heat of the Middle East where all the money is. Indeed, it simply boils down to a trade-off between cost and quality, relevant as much to concrete roads as to wooden houses, plastic cars and fast food. On long road-trips I had assumed that my jaw ache was attributable to the Buc-ee’s jerky (aforementioned) until one ‘jerkyless’ trip when I realised that I was continuously clenching my teeth to avoid them chattering and blurring my vision. Upon this revelation, I found some relief by placing my tongue gently between incisors but, be advised – BAD IDEA! The relief proved to be short-lived when, within a few miles, I encountered a particularly deep pot-hole and I talked with a ‘lithp’ for days afterwards.
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| Don't drone and drive! |
After my detailed survey of driving habits in Houston (reported in Letter VII) I thought I had seen everything possible on the roads here until a few weeks ago driving home from work in rush hour traffic. I clocked a guy driving at 50mph, steering with his knees and playing a trumpet! I am not kidding; I doubted if anyone would actually believe this without a photo so I pulled up beside him at the lights and took this one with my iPhone – poor quality through the windows but evidence nevertheless. Worrying thought – where’s the rest of the band?
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| Steak and steak rub |
I guess by now you all know how much I hate bugs but this story seals the deal. I had treated myself to a 42oz (!), USDA-Prime, 42-day-dry-aged, Black Angus, T-bone steak from Central Market and was looking forward to the steak (obviously), the stir fry that would evolve the next day and the vindaloo that, in true British tradition, would soak up a surprising amount of beer at the weekend. I had removed the enormous slab of beast from its greased paper packaging, allowed it to breath and dry and was gently massaging the flesh with my favourite ‘steak-rub’, a secret though commercially available blend of salts, ‘rbs’ and spices. Now, bear in mind I seldom wear my specs when cooking (I only use cookery books for photographic inspiration) but, as I finished the rubbing, I was sure I saw something move on the surface of the steak and then on my fingers.
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| Tiny brown beetles! |
On closer inspection, with specs, I discovered that the steak-rub had been infested by thousands of tiny brown beetles! Neighbours several blocks away would doubtless have heard the expletive! The steak, steak rub and dinner plate (the latter I now regret) were immediately treated to the 17 floor descent of the trash chute and were very nearly accompanied by the lunch I had consumed some hours earlier. Dinner was cancelled. Anyway, the whole of the Labo(u)r Day holiday (isn’t that a contradiction in terms?) was spent deep-cleaning my apartment and the bugs were everywhere: in cereal, ‘rbs’, coffee, sugar, even in my salt and pepper grinders; basically in every container that wasn’t hermetically sealed. I wondered if I should ‘fess up’ to recent dinner guests or let them read it here? I decided on the latter.
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| Red imported fire ants |
Some other bugs that seem to enjoy Houston’s sub-tropical climate are ‘Fire Ants’ or, more correctly, ‘Red Imported Fire Ants, RIFAs’, illegal immigrants who snuck in (sic) from Brazil back in the 1930’s, when border controls were even less effective, and were allowed to colonise unabated (apparently ‘worker ants’ came looking for jobs and found that living conditions and education were much better here). Be warned, if you happen to “inflame their local sensitivity” by stepping on a colony, they will sound a pheromonal alarm and launch a coordinated attack in substantial numbers; they are very capable of killing small animals and hospitalising humans with anaphylactic shock. These guys really pack a punch. I was stung on the ankle by a single Fire Ant while trying to measure the tire (sic) pressure on the Mini and I was convinced that it was an unseen snake or a wasp. When I realised that it was a RIFA, I was fully expecting many more stings - if rain dances worked I would have ended the drought in seconds.
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| The fallen world leaders |
Since my last letter, after the UN-supported annihilation of Gaddafi, several more prominent leaders have fallen, all for varying degrees of failure and/or gross ineptitude resulting in the disgrace of their respective countries on the world stage: – George Papandreou, Silvio Berlusconi, Ali Abdullah Saleh, Martin Johnson.
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| Another one bites the dust! |
Sadly though, many still remain and without mentioning anyone I promised not to, that leads me to the GOP's preparations to remedy the situation in next year’s general election. The GOP ('Grand Old Party' aka Republicans) Presidential Nomination Debate Stage is where each would-be Presidential candidate is given equal opportunity to embarrass themselves and, believe me, these guys are experts. This is stand-up comedy as good as it gets! Coincidentally (or maybe not), Walt Disney's Muppets are also trying to make a come back! I have always thought there is room for a third party in American politics.
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| Grand Old Muppet Party |
I gave some more thought to Perry’s prayers and rain dancing after my last letter. Belief in a ‘divine being’ is absolutely essential to anyone vying to become President; remember creationism is taught as a science, not a faith, over here. Never, ever, ever will an atheist or agnostic rise to office in the US of A regardless of their other qualities – it just ain’t gonna happen. There has already been sparring on the Republican debate stage along the lines of “Mormons are not real Christians” and “Your religion is just a cult” and these guys are meant to be on the same side! Nevertheless, it was a giant leap of faith, on Perry’s part, to suppose that said Divine Being is Republican. I suspect not; not only was the recent drought the worst in recorded history but vast areas of Perry’s Texas were subsequently devastated by wildfire, a disaster indeed of ‘biblical’ proportions! This would suggest to me that either He (or She) up there is seriously Democratic or Perry dialled the wrong number. By the way, hundreds of thousands of Christmas Trees either died of thirst or were burnt to a cinder – QED?
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| Memorial Park (40% dead) |
This photo is the view, early morning, across Memorial Park taken from my balcony – sadly 40% of the trees, many of which are older than America itself, are now dead.
In my last letter I suggested that Perry was a ‘more intelligent’ version of George Dubya – I think I was wrong. In a recent speech he tried to improve his dwindling popularity rating by changing his image and injecting some humour and animation into his ‘performance’. Bad idea - he came across as an inept clown possessed by several alien personalities. His audience was stunned into uncomfortable, nervous tittering and media commentators agreed that, best case scenario, he was either drunk or on drugs, worst case scenario, he was either drunk or on drugs all the other times.
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| Perry drunk or on drugs? |
In a subsequent debate he stated emphatically that, if elected, he would abolish three federal agencies then, when he counted them off on his fingers, he could only remember two of them (the third was apparently the Energy Department – kinda relevant, particularly in Texas). After such an excruciating blunder he admitted, "I'm glad I had my boots on because I really stepped in it tonight." and later “This ain't a day for quitting nothing”.... eloquent, huh? Anyway, both videos went viral on Facetube – end of Perry campaign.
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| Cain but not able! |
The media lynch mob then shifted focus and re-sighted their guns on Herman Cain, a likeable black guy with a Noo Yawk, Noo Yawk acsayent and former CEO of Godfather’s Pizza (excellent heritage then). Breaking news – Cain’s previous employer, The Restaurant Association, had allegedly paid off two females who had accused him of ‘sexual harassment’ each with $45,000 ‘go away money’. This, of course, proved Cain was guilty. Remember Wacko Jacko paid off his accusers of child molestation with $20,000,000 proving of course that he was innocent - the American media’s ‘judgement system’ at its best! Just when this excitement subsided another bimbo appeared (carefully selected, not too old, not too young, not too fat, not too slim, not too pretty, not too plain) with the repugnant ‘celebrity lawyer’ and gold digger, Gloria Allred also with accusations (I never trust lawyers with false eyelashes). Then, when that didn't work, news was released of a covert affair. That tipped the balance and, as Perry would say, “Cain, no way, ain’t going nowhere no more” - end of Cain campaign. Maybe there's an opening in "Libibia" (better ask Bachmann where that is).
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| A newt or a gecko? |
‘Newt’ Gingrich (not to be confused with the GEICO commercial) and ‘Mitt’ Romney (please don't tell me that's short for Kermit?) are now the front runners but more due to the failings of the others than to their own merits. The latter is a Mormon (desperately hanging on to that second ‘m’) and son of – wait for it - George Dubya Romney (helluva coincidence, huh?). There is bound to be more on these guys in my next letter because they are next in the line of fire. Then the Republicans will wake up to the fact that they have systematically eliminated all potential candidates and Barry will stagger and stumble to victory in a one horse race. Seriously though, with a population of three hundred and twelve million, two hundred and seventy-nine thousand, are these guys all that America can come up with? What happened to all the peanut farmers and actors?
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| The winning pumpkin! |
Change of subject. I have mentioned before that Halloween is a major celebration in the USA, second only to Thanksgiving. Modesty forbids me from telling you who won this year’s office pumpkin carving competition (see pic). Design inspired by James Carville.
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| 3 Thanksgiving turkeys! |
While avoiding criticism of he who cannot be named, Obama (oops) on his last official duty, for once, demonstrated an impressive level of leadership style, sophistication, sympathy, understanding and statesmanship, truly befitting the most powerful man in the world. Even I had to admit that nobody on the international stage could have performed more supremely in the role. I refer of course to the traditional pardoning of the Thanksgiving Turkey in the Whitehouse rose-garden. This year actually two turkeys were officially pardoned and, believe it or not, they were called Liberty and Peace; it must have taken a lot of research to find turkeys with such appropriate names. Anyway, needless to say, the three turkeys were broadcast live on primetime TV, much to the enjoyment of the nation. Happy Thanksgiving y’all! (am I still allowed to say “thanksgiving”?)
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| Doctor guilty as planned! |
Wacko Jacko’s Doctor was of course found guilty of manslaughter. With Wacko’s dysfunctional family and wacko fan base, many of whom were camped outside the courthouse, the trial by primetime TV couldn’t possibly have gone any other way. The main charge was actually depriving the world of a sequel to Wacko’s film, “Thriller”. Apparently it was going to be even scarier second time because Wacko was not intending to wear make-up. Anyway the poor Doc was given the maximum sentence and will be in jail for some time now. I intend baking a cake with a file in it.
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| The Ig-Nobel prizes! |
Every year the American Annals of Improbable Research (AIR) award so-called ‘Ig-Nobel Prizes’ for outstanding achievements in the same realms of science as the Nobel Prizes. Examples include the Ig-Nobel Prizes in Chemistry and Medicine awarded to a group of ‘scientists’ for homeopathic research (I think you get the picture). Russian Physicist and mad scientist, Andre Geim is the only person to have received both Nobel and Ig-Nobel Prizes in Physics for his nanotechnology research and his levitating frogs respectively (by the way, he co-authored his research paper with Herr H.A.M.S. Ter Tisha, his pet hamster!) Anyway, the 2011 Ig-Nobel Prize for mathematics was awarded to the other wacko, Harold Camping for miss-calculating the end of the world three times. Now maybe he will shut up.
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| Expensive distilled water! |
Having already touched on the subjects of psychics, witches and rain dances, another topic that I typically ‘file under X’ is indeed homeopathy. Homeopathy seems to have taken the USA (ignobly) by storm and not just in California. As long as there are fools there will always be ways of separating them from their money. I recently managed to acquire a minor, but irritating, eye infection and since I haven’t yet got around to registering with a ‘quack’ (hey, come on, I’ve only been here 35 months) I moped down to the local Target Megastore to get some eye-drops. Confronted by a huge array of options I resorted to the simple principle that ‘most expensive is best’ and the very pleasant shop assistant agreed that it doesn’t come much ‘better’ than $20 for 5ml.
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| The Target mega-store |
Only when I got home did I discover that my tiny little bottle contained distilled water or, to be more precise, homeo-bleedin-pathic distilled water apparently with ‘12X Conium Maculatum’. Conium Maculatum (with appropriate emphasis on the ‘con’) ‘googled-out’ to be Poison Hemlock (!) and the ‘12X’ meant that it had been diluted 1,000,000,000,000 times (12 noughts). This fool felt a very long way from his $20. Anyway, I thought distilled water was probably as good as anything to squirt into my eye and a week later I had more or less recovered. That single molecule of ‘con’ that had a one in a hundred chance of being in my little bottle actually worked wonders!
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| The Target mega-trolley |
The Target Megastore probably compares to what UK’s Woolworths used to be in its heyday but on a grand American scale. Unlike Woolies, however, they offer trolleys (the size of dump-trucks) with all four wheels present and moving in the same direction. They currently have a Fall [Autumn] Fashion promotion where you would be hard-pushed to find a frock over $5.99.
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| The Houston Galleria |
Just around the corner is The Galleria, an air-over-conditioned, chrome and marble mall, smelling distinctly of ozone, where you would be hard-pushed to find a frock under $599. All of the infamous Champs-Élysées boutiques are housed under one roof and they successfully con Americans into believing that European labels like Georgie Armani, Louis Versace and Monty Blanc, to name but a few, represent value at 100 times the ‘Target-rate’. Again, fools and money. OK, I know, but cars and watches are different.
While on the subject of hocus-pocus medicines, expensive distilled water, eye of toad, etc., my ‘better half’ asked me to pick up some weird dietary supplement that apparently is not available off-prescription anywhere outside of the USA. The futility of my suggesting, “there’s probably a very good reason for that” was more than predictable, so off I trudged to Central Market in search of the stuff. Again confronted with a bewildering array of products, I explained to the very friendly, plump, African-American assistant that I was way outside my comfort zone but did they stock this product. To my amazement she not only recognised the obscure name but stocked four different strengths of pills, four different strengths of capsules, two skin creams and a spray. I queried how a ‘dietary supplement’ could be taken as a skin cream (but apparently it can!) and then asked, “... and where are you supposed to squirt this? Up your beak?” Her ample frame seemed to implode as she struggled to fight back the laughter and maintain the professional advisor-customer relationship but she failed miserably and collapsed backward into hysterics while trying to point in the general direction of her tongue. Leaving her to recover, I decided to play safe and grabbed the pills but when I chanced upon the same aisle about 10 minutes later, I caught a glimpse of her from the back and her shoulders were still shaking. We are now good friends.
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| Too fat to fly? |
Just after my last letter, news hit that AirTran had followed my advice! They have introduced a so-called ‘too fat to fly’ policy (presumably spurred on by this picture). I subsequently found out that Southwest and Air France (why doesn’t that surprise me) already have similar policies. Brilliant! Basically they charge extra-large customers for two seats if they can’t fit in a single seat with the armrest down but then refund one seat if the flight is not full. Doesn’t that sound suspiciously like common sense? Some XXXL customers have responded by saying that they won’t fly with these airlines - thank you. Continental? My suggestion letter to those bozos still remains unanswered. I suspect their entire management team and board of directors are fat bastards.
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| Apple technology & style |
You know already that I am a great fan of Apple and one of the best things about starting a company is that you get to choose your own standards. I cringe whenever I remember my Shell days and my forever-5-years-out-of-date software on my battered, 8-years-out-of-date Windows laptop that took 7 minutes 30 seconds to start every morning, not to mention the frequent ‘blue screens of death’ and the countless times the no-help desk told me to “re-boot and call back”.
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| Jobs will be missed |
Between home and work I now have perfectly synchronised MacMini, MacBook-Pro, iPhone, iPad and iPod and there will always be space reserved on the desk for whatever Apple comes up with next. Or will there? It was a very sad day for Apple and the modern world of technology and style when Steve Jobs passed away. There are very few genuine ‘thought leaders’ on this planet and certainly only one ‘leader’ who ever ‘thought’ that Apple could and would eclipse Microsoft. Jobs will be missed. No, Barry, different kind of jobs.
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| Dyson's bladeless fan |
On a similar but lesser scale I am also a great fan of UK’s Dyson and am a proud owner of his Cyclone Ball Hoover (um?), his Cyclone Car Vac and his oxymoronic Bladeless Fan (there’s that word again). I drew a line at his ‘Airblade’ Hand Dryer but was sorely tempted. It was only recently however that I realised just how similar USA’s Apple and UK’s Dyson really are. I had found myself between housekeepers (that sounds like fun) so had to do some serious housework myself (I think the last time was in 2008 when I took my new Dyson hoover for a test-drive). This time however I was a little aggressive and managed to ingest a large portion of my sheepskin rug. 2011 seemed like a good time to open the instruction manual. Following the instructions therein, I dismantled the offending parts and picked out the wool but still the thing wouldn’t start. Then I noticed an ‘0800’ helpline number.
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| Dyson's 'Hoover' technology |
My heart sank as I remembered the multi-tier menu options of Comcast before a real human can only “sympathise with your frustration” and the American voice recognition options of Continental where you suffer the indignity of trying to speak American before the robot says “goodbye” and hangs up. I dialled the number with trepidation. To my amazement, on the second ring, a guy picked up and said “Good morning. Dyson helpline. This is Kevin. How may I help you?” ... err ... Caught completely off guard, I was literally speechless but eventually managed to blurt out an embarrassingly poor explanation of my predicament. No problem, this guy obviously spoke fluent ‘housewife’. He checked that I had followed the instructions to unblock the brushes, the right bits had been ‘clicked’ back into the right places, the bits that were meant to rotate did and the bits that weren’t, didn’t, then, satisfied that all was in order, he told me I would now have to “re-boot the system”! My response was not very polite and involved several references to ‘bovine waste’ but then I realised that this guy was serious to the point of being professional. He told me to ‘re-boot’ by holding down two buttons, powering up and releasing the buttons after 10 seconds, this would reset all safety trips and restore factory settings ... and it worked! Again I was speechless; I had communicated immediately and directly with a polite, patient, intelligent, competent, effective, real human being and, with the notable exception of Apple, that just doesn’t happen these days. Brilliant! After, the “Goodbye”s and the “Have a great day”s, I hung up and rushed straight to my iPad to ‘Google’ and ‘Wiki’ Dyson – I had to check if his first name was Kevin (sadly, it wasn’t).
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| B&O with Comcast remote! |
And now the ‘flipside’. Comcast – an infuriating, incompetent, useless, rabble of ‘chocolate teapots’. Their website has the audacity to associate with Apple and offers ‘apps’ that enable control of their set top boxes with iPads and iPhones. Wait a minute though, that means I could bin their cheap, tacky, plastic remote control! I took a deep breath and dialled their no-helpline. After the multi-tier menu and 25 minutes wait, a quick reference to my account details indicated that my boxes were incompatible but, no problem, I should return the boxes to the local no-service centre and they would be upgraded free of charge. Great news but not a minor task with a fully integrated Bang and Olufsen Beolink system professionally installed throughout the apartment with hidden wiring. A quick glance at their tacky remote control polluting my coffee table was enough to convince me that it was worth the trouble. After an hour and a half dismantling the system and a 30 minute trip across town in Saturday traffic, my worst fears were realised – a zigzag queue of 60 people with dour expressions all clutching set-top boxes and cables. I was, nevertheless, determined and committed. It took another 48 minutes to reach the front of the queue and the welcome shout of “Next in line!” But then, after the “How are you”s and my introduction and explanation of why I was there, the dreaded Comcast blank stare (Comcast personnel go on special courses to perfect the dreaded Comcast blank stare). Was I from another planet, maybe?
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| Comcast chocolate teapots! |
No, the system would not be available in Texas until February and I should go home, phone the no-helpline again and ask to speak to a supervisor (to have my frustration sympathized with). This was clearly a binary situation. I could either just walk away calmly or I could throw the two boxes through their 52” plasma TV on which I had been force fed Comcast commercials for the last hour and then return with my gun to mow down everyone in a Comcast T-shirt; the Texas death penalty almost seemed worth it. Common sense prevailed. I tried to return the stare but clearly I wasn’t a professional so I turned away and walked out calmly. In the car park I could actually hear the blood pumping through my ears and had to sit in the car for 5 minutes before I thought it was safe enough to start the engine. By the time I got home and re-installed the system, 5 hours had elapsed since that first fateful call. The burning question / dilemma: are alternative providers likely to be any less inept? This is Houston, Planet Earth, 2011 – I think not.
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| Yappy old lady with dog |
I have mentioned before that my apartment building is home to numerous yappy little dogs that, on a daily basis, take yappy little old ladies out for walkies. This story was recounted by the Concierge who is well aware of my feelings towards these mutts after witnessing a poodle sliding like a curling stone across the polished marble floor of the lobby; my ‘knee-jerk’ reaction to the mutt slobbering on my trousers was admittedly overzealous but fuelled by the owner offering the redundant explanation of, “Oh. He does that.” without the slightest hint of concern or apology! The Concierge had obviously been waiting eagerly to tell me his story because he forgot his usual “How ya doin’ Mr. Greeeeefit?” One little old lady, clearly with advanced Alzheimer’s, had brought her dog down to the car park for walkies but, for unknown reason, had found it necessary to return to her apartment. Rather than take the dog up and down in the elevator, believe it or not, she chose to hang its leash on the tow hook of a pick-up! When she returned, only minutes later – you guessed it - pick-up and dog were gone.
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| Automatic dog walker |
While she was complaining bitterly to the Concierge (who is unfairly held responsible for everything that happens on the property) a call came through from the gatehouse. Luckily, the security guard, who has a friendly habit of waving to all traffic leaving the property, had spotted the little dog, legs a blur, running behind the pick-up. Even luckier, there is a four-way stop sign only 50 meters from the gate and so the security guard (not the most athletic of gentlemen) abandoned station and set off in pursuit (Benny Hill music comes to mind). The driver made a complete stop (obviously not from California then) and the security guard was able to catch up and detach the leash (the 610 highway is only one block away). Apparently the little old lady was grateful for the safe return of her pooch but didn’t take kindly to the Concierge and the Security Guard collapsing into hysterics as the latter tried to describe the little dog’s legs (the Concierge demonstrated with his fingers) and the expression on its face (the Concierge demonstrated with his eyes and tongue) as it tried to keep up. There’s no pleasing some folk. The dog was seemingly unharmed but probably won’t need its nails clipping for a while.
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| Oklahoma tornado! |
The Tornado season is coming to a close and some of the video captured by the so-called storm chasers in Oklahoma this year was truly spectacular (dare I say, awesome). I have always been interested in meteorology and have an ardent fascination with severe weather; I would really love to witness a big tornado first hand (from a reasonable distance of course). Realising that it might be difficult, if not impossible, to convince the ‘better half’, I did look into ‘storm chasing adventure vacations’ after a recent commercial on Discovery Channel (she will read it here first).
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| Oklahoma storm chasers |
Vacations typically run between May and July and start at $2400 per person (flights not included) for 6 days of chasing, including all ‘meals’ and accommodation in ‘premium hotels’ like Super-8, Travelodge, Motel-6 and EconoLodge (Captain Kirk would be proud). But this is the best bit: you are actually ‘guaranteed’ to see a Tornado! If you end up sunbathing by a dusty, cracked pool with plastic palm trees, in a Motel-6, in the middle of nowhere, for 6 days, you get $200 off your next booking! I think I will stick with Discovery Channel and sofa.
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| Wooden house & 'portaloo' |
By the way, I mentioned before that, regardless of tornados and hurricanes, houses here are built almost entirely of box wood. The picture here shows a house currently being assembled in my neighbourhood. The strongest structure in the picture is clearly the fence around the ‘porta-loo’! Of course, the workmen have their priorities right – they will never have to sit, trousers around ankles, inside the house.
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| New USDA vegetables! |
And lastly, one of Obama’s safer, less contentious, initiatives is his ‘five-vege-a-day’ school dinner health drive (likely inspired by Jamie Oliver’s UK initiative of 2005). Anticipating significant cost implications, Congress is now attempting to pass a bill to have the US Department of Agriculture (USDA) officially classify pizza and French fries (chips) as vegetables! This on account of the former having a smear of tomaydo paste and the latter being made of potatoes. Only in America!
Anyway, as Perry might say, I hope y’all have a Merry Holiday and Father Holiday brings y’all the Holiday presents y'all been a wan'nin' for.
