All right! I’ve had it. CNN has finally totally blown it! Aaron Brown was the last best newsman they had. He is bright. He has a sense of humour. He has a sense of outrage when it’s appropriate. He is just the best.

CNN started out being called the ‘Chicken Noodle Network.’ No one took them seriously until a certain tinhorn dictator named Sadaam, who had more than enough oil, invaded the next country and tried to take their oil too.

We all watched the fits and starts of CNN. Remember the bureau chief in Tel Aviv? He was the one who, when the scud missile landed near the bureau said, “Yeah, it’s here at the corner of Golda Meir Boulevard and Moshe Dayan Way.” You could just hear the Iraqis:” Hey, Mahmood, crank that thing over about 5 degrees, we barely missed. (more…)

I say HOORAY for technology! I made it through this election cycle without picking up the phone and finding some push-poll or political operative on the other end.

As I’ve said before, I have no shame when it comes to avoiding annoying telephone calls. Furthermore, I have no patience for telephones games of any sort. I will put up with a legitimate telephone poll, but they are few and far between. As to the others, they can get stuffed! My ear drums will not be assaulted!

So I have done everything I can to avoid unwanted calls. I’m on the National Do-Not-Call list. I have distinctive ring tones on my mobile for everyone whom I may or may not want to talk to. Finally, I have caller ID on the home phone.

If I get any call that says “unknown caller” or even if I don’t recognise the name and/or number, I let it ring. And ring. And ring. I have no guilt whatsoever. Let them deal with my voice mail. My meals have been so peaceful. My television viewing has been blissfully uninterrupted. Conversations could take place without annoyance. When I did go to vote, I had a smile on my lips.

Now if there were only a way to stop junk mail. Of course, I laughed maniacally as I shredded the junk mail from the candidates. I was Zen-ed out during the whole run-up to the election. Ah, peace! I’m in my happy place. Caller ID: it’s a good thing.

We used to live in the hills. When you live in the hills, you know the rules of the road like the back of your hand. You know what I mean. When you park, bank your wheels. Put on the emergency brake. Keep your car in gear: preferably reverse. If you have a dodgy battery, always park going downhill so you can pop the clutch to get the engine started.

It’s all fairly easy and really logical. One of the most important things to remember is that the person coming up the hill has the right of way. Makes sense when you think about it really. If you’re coming up the hill and you have to stop, you lose momentum. This is especially true if you have a manual transmission. (more…)

Yesterday’s little jaunt down memory lane jogged my brain cells. I remembered another Uncle story. This one happened during World War II.

Uncle had joined the Army Air Corps at the start of the war. He was mustered out rather quickly. The story that he told was that they found that he had flat feet. Never quite believed that one myself, that was his story and he stuck to it. (more…)

My Uncle was a seriously serious person. I never really had a conversation with him until I was an adult. We just didn’t have too much in common. He did call me princess, but I always had the feeling that it was because he couldn’t remember my name.

But he still is the source of a few gut busting stories. I think that a lot of it has to do with his absent-mindedness. There was the time, for instance, when he bought a new car. It was a convertible and it was also the first time that he had a car with a radio and a cigarette lighter. He was thrilled. He headed out on the highway.

He had the top down. It was a sunny warm day. He turned on the radio. Then, he decided to have a smoke. He pushed in the lighter, it clicked right on time. He lifted it up and lit the ciggie. Ah, come on, you know what happened next. Don’t make me tell you. (more…)

It’s the 400th anniversary of the Gunpowder Plot. Back in 1605 a group of Catholic men decided that they wanted England to proclaim its fealty to Mother church and the Pope. So, they decided to blow up Parliament and King James the 1st along with it during the annual opening day ceremony

So, these fellows rented a house next door to Parliament and dug a tunnel (sounds like that Woody Allen movie, right?). The real ringleader wasn’t Fawkes; it was Robert Catesby. Unfortunately for Guy Fawkes, he drew the short straw: he was left to light the fuse on the dynamite.

To add to Guy’s misfortune, someone in on the plot wrote a little billet doux to a certain Lord Monteagle (great name, huh?) warning him to stay away from Parliament on the 5th of November.

When I was young I loved the ocean. I loved to swim in the ocean until I almost did drown in Hawaii. But there were two things about the ocean that scared the bejeebers out of me: drowning in a car and tidal waves.

I was petrified of accidentally driving into the water and not being able to get out of the car. Do you remember that movie, “The Stuntman”? There’s a sequence in that film where the hero is stuck in the car underwater. It freaked me out. I had to leave the theatre. I hated it.

I don’t remember ever having been in a car underwater, but to this day I still have this irrational fear of that happening. You could never get me to drive on that highway that goes to the Florida Keys (well, you could never get me to go to Florida; but that’s another story), you know, the one that’s right on the water. No way, no sirree, not Anon. Nope. (more…)

Well, Halloween is over and it’s time for La Dia de los Muertos. The Day of the Dead isn’t the same as Halloween. It was a harvest festival for the Aztecs, but the Catholic padres insisted on shoehorning it into the church calendar.

In conquering the new world, when the Church couldn’t eradicate a ‘pagan’ ritual they would co-opt it. Thus, La Dia de los Muertos is now celebrated the first 2 days in November. This coincides with All Souls and All Saints days.

The Mezoamericans didn’t fear death the way the Spaniards did. The Spaniards couldn’t wrap their brains around this concept. Of course if one isn’t afraid of death, then the Church loses a lot of its clout. (more…)