April 27, 2010 by Dave Rama.

Everyone has opinions. It is almost impossible to carry on a conversation without offering an opinion.  My opinions change from time to time, but not the fact that I’m right.  The phrase “a matter of fact” is almost always a matter of opinion.  The theory that one plus one equals two is only true if you are working in base ten.

There is an opinion that history is important because we learn from the mistakes of earlier generations.  Therefore we are wiser and safer and better looking and better in every way than our ancestors.  I find very little evidence to support that theory. For example, the big lesson to be learned from the career of Napoleon is that it is stupid to invade Russia.  The Germans of the middle twentieth century felt that they were smarter and better looking and wiser than the French invaders of the nineteenth century.  In spite of the fact no one has successfully invaded Russia since the Mongol hordes almost two millennia ago, I feel confident some bozo will try it again.  Can you say George W. Bush?

Speaking of the Democrats favorite Republican, the Russians proved that their army of soldiers and helicopters and tanks could not invade and win a war in Afghanistan.  The United States followed that lesson up within twenty years, and has so far proved the lessons of the Russian Army to be true.  Can you say George W. Bush?

Some people die because they have low morals and rotten character and limited intelligence.  There have been a few people who crossed my path that caused me to smile and wonder if the world would be more pleasant with fewer morons.  In spite of that, no one ever actually died from disagreeing with me. The great sage Mark Twain explained it this way:  “The trouble is not that the world is full of fools, it’s just that lightning isn’t distributed right.”

Speaking of morons, my compassionate side feels sorry for the likes of Rush Limbaugh and Newt Gingrich, who must be going through terrible times when it is so painfully clear that the poor did not precipitate the mortgage crisis.  Their long-held theory that the poor are responsible for every American problem lies in ruins.  The people who run Wall Street have proven once again they are not trustworthy enough to go unregulated, just as they did in 1929 and 1893.  Drive the moneychangers out of the temple, and they sneak back in at the behest of the dull like Ronald Reagan, who find that deregulation is good, if only for the rich.  Have no fear dull folk, the market will crash again because we refuse to heed the lessons of history so that we can be wiser, safer, and better looking than our ancestors.

Speaking of better looking and dull, it seems crystal clear that if God is female, and I find no evidence to the contrary, She probably looks like Sarah Palin.  However, however, I much prefer to think that God is not a nitwit.  This is a classic example of how politics works in America.  We select our candidates on the basis of how they look on television, and Miss America is chosen on the basis of where she stands on the issues.

In my view, the greatest of all American writers is Samuel Clemens, also known as Mark Twain. Halley’s Comet appears to our planet every seventy-five years.  It flew twice in Twain’s lifetime, once in the year of his birth, and the second time in the year of his death.  As the comet blazes across the night sky, Twain’s brilliance spews across the page. Ernest Hemingway called Huckleberry Finn the “best book we’ve ever had.  There was nothing before.  There’s been nothing as good since.”  I love Twain’s humor and irreverence. Mark Twain’s work does prove that freedom of expression exists in this country.  His comments on race, religion, and politics are relevant today.  Proof once again that the world has not changed much. The only things that have changed are the gadgets and tools.  The problems that come about repeatedly are the result of people and their egos.

One of the questions people ask when they learn that my wife and I have put together a book is:  “Where do you get your inspiration?” Ideas don’t just materialize out of my little pea-sized brain.  If you are an honest writer, you must admit that all inspiration derives from God.  It is not simply the big ethics books like the Torah, the Koran, and the Bible that are divinely inspired, but every scribble we put to paper. THEREFORE, if you have issues with the opinions expressed here, DON’T bring them to me.  I’m not your problem.  Take it up with the BIG GUY!

DAVE RAMA

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March 15, 2009 by Dave Rama.

There is a quote that goes something like:  “Satan, get thee behind me.”  That may be imprecisely quoted, but it refers to our ability to resist temptation.  A quick review of public figures and ministers may suggest that Satan is still out front, and resistance is low.

The press has reacted with a good deal of moral outrage that the Governor of Illinois has been accused of offering to sell a seat in the United States Senate.  I agree that the Governor has performed a stupid, and probably criminal, act.  The media, of course, also sells elected offices through advertising.  Typically, the candidate who spends the most on advertising wins the election.  The difference is the media offers no guarantee of getting elected, whereas the Governor was going to provide a definite Senatorial position in return for the candidate’s dollars.  Perhaps the media does not like competition.

Truly, neither major political party is holier than the other, because corruption is widespread in both cases.  Usually, the evildoers are caught with one or both hands in the cookie jar, grabbing the money, like the Governor of Illinois, or the Representatives in the House taking bribes from the lobbyists.

The other issue that catches officials with their pants down is they get caught with their pants down.  Sexual indiscretions from the Governor of New York, Presidents Clinton and Kennedy, Senator Hart of Colorado, and former Presidential candidate John Edwards reveal the temptations of available women, of which there is an apparently endless supply.  In our neighboring state of Idaho, there is a slight twist to the longings of Senator Craig, who paraphrased a musical line from Lawrence Welk, “You Set My Foot to Tapping.”  Politicians in Oregon are not necessarily good with temptation, either.  It takes no time at all to recall the sexual harassments offered by Senator Packwood, the Gubernatorial desires for babysitters from Neil Goldschmidt, and the newly elected Mayor of our largest  city, who enjoys kissing teenage boys, but keeps his baser instincts in check until they turn eighteen.

The only group that remains to set a good example for we poor, benighted heathen is conservative religious  leaders like Jim Bakker, Jimmy Swaggert, and Ted Haggard, who have collaborated on an exciting new book, called “Ministers Do More Than Lay People.”  The Catholic brand of Christianity offers their own set of problems, notably the existence of pedophilia in some members of the clergy.  There is a group of religious writers afoot who express how disturbed and saddened they are at the fact that there is declining church membership in both Europe and the  United States.  Gee, I wonder why that is.

I am what my children call “old school.”  At least, I think that is what they’re saying.  I don’t hear everything plainly, so they might be saying “old fool.”  In either event, I am old enough to remember when elected officials and ministers had at least a modicum of character and morality.  Those two diseases have apparently been cured.

Dave Rama, writing on the Ides of March.

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March 14, 2009 by Dave Rama.

I wish to annoounce the completion of my sixty-fifth annual trip around the sun.   This milestone made me notice the significant landmarks being celebrated this month.  On the twelfth of February, we note that it has been two hundred years since the birth of Abraham Lincoln.   Also on the twelfth, we can note that the NAACP turned 100 years old.  On the fourteenth of February, comes St. Valentine’s Day, a landmark for lovers and elementary school students, a date set aside for remembering love.  The fourteenth is also the date that marks the existence of the state of Oregon for a sprightly one hundred fifty years.  Despite the fact that I share a birth month with Oregon, there is no truth to the idle talk that I was an eyewitness to statehood.

In this month we also recognize President’s Day,Groundhog Day, the Daytona 500, and the day we clean out the woodburning stove, Ash Wednesday.  We should also remember the birthday of George Washington in February, on either the eleventh or the twenty-second.  A new and improved calendar  came into use during George’s lifetime.  He was born on the twenty-second, but if he had been born on the new calendar, his birthday would have been the eleventh.  That is a fact from my store of trivial information that is difficult to work into the conversation.

Those born in late January and early February are said to be born under the sign of Aquarius,  If you translate the months from English back to Latin, you get Januarius and Februarius, and then things will rhyme.  There is a term in astrology called the age of Aquarius which refers to a spiritual awakening, and age of brotherhood.  I think most of us would like to live in this period.  As food for thought for you true believers, the cusp of the aquarian sign is January 20th.  That is correct-Inauguration Day.

I found slightly more than 200,000 websites to answer any question that came to mind about the topic of astrology.  I learned astrology is very big on the use of adjectives.  The positives read very much like the Boy Scout Law–friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean and reverent.  Aquarians are identified as practicers of practical idealism, which sounds like an oxymoron.  My favorite description, though, was ethereal.  The term sent me to Webster’s to learn it means airy.  Also tenuous and delicate.  I have been called a lot of things in my life,  but never delicate, and only rarely has anyone suggested I might be airy.  When I applied these words to Abe and George, I fail to discern their ethereal side either.  Far be it from me to contradict an astrologer, but I can’t see anyone referring to George Washington as airy.  The website did say Aquarians have a DARK side, harboring characteristics like fanatical eccentricity, wayward egotism, and TEMPER in capital letters.

I would like to reinforce the point that February is a bland month by pointing out that the single most entertaining television event of the month is the Westminster Kennel Club dog show.  Enjoy!!

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March 14, 2009 by Dave Rama.

The world is a colorful and beautiful place. I have experienced an assortment of colors in the places we have lived over the years. In the Great Plains, you get to see that great dome of sky unequaled anywhere, with the shifting shades of blue, and the brilliant colors of God’s light show when the thunderstorms blossom. We have lived in Iowa, where the summer green of the cornfields is muted by the humid haze, and in the fall, the changing leaves of the hardwoods generate great calendar pictures. We have lived in the Southwest,where the earth tones are spectacular, and you get the electric flash of turquoise jewelry which is so commonly worn by men, women, and children. The gem’s brilliance creates its own definition of blue. During our time in the southwest, we lived in the southern reaches of the Rocky Mountains. Thirteen thousand foot peaks give a special meaning to “purple mountain’s majesty.”

We are currently settled in the high desert of eastern Oregon. Here we gaze upon tall brown hills, with ranges of deep blue mountains in our line of sight, and various shades of green and gray in the sagebrush. The pine forests lend their own verdant colors, and in autumn, there is the contrasting yellow of the Western Larch. The summer sky here is a milky shade of blue on the best of sunny days, with haze caused by high atmospheric pressure and the occasional forest fire.

This January we are experiencing a phenomenon that was not common in any of our previous homes, but is a regular wintertime occurence here-an inversion. An inversion occurs when warm air rides up over the top of cold air and holds it in place. There are two results. One is that foggy conditions occur. In a world that uses the term High Definition to excess, the fog takes the edge off any structure, blurs the line of sight, and causes some items to disappear completely. The fog also causes hoarfrost to form on every available weed, tree, and power line. If that is not enough, we saw a small group of deer breakfasting on the neighbor’s lawn, and they were frosted from antler tine to tail. The effect of the hoarfrost, for the first day or two, is to cause people to grab their cameras and start snapping pictures, because the scene is one of God’s truly dazzling works. The second effect happens when an inversion lasts more than two or three days. Because the fog is everywhere, the world no longer seems to be in color. Winter appears to be in living black and white.

People fall into two distinct groups regarding this weather situation. One group of folks, like me, get crabby and owly and are not much fun to be around until the sun returns, which it always does. The other group sets forth a cheerful philosophy which is “You don’t have to shovel the fog.” My wife falls in that category. In an attempt to save the cheerful from the crabs, we should all join hands and sing, “Heaven Help Us, It’s an Uncloudy day.” If, as some proclaim, God could send us a Son, surely it would be a small matter to send us some sun. A toast to all who are willing to share their warmth and brilliance. Here’s to you, sunshine!

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October 5, 2008 by Dave Rama.

There are so many questions in my mind about forms.  Who are the people who think up the questions on forms for businesses, schools, and the IRS?   Who decides what needs to be known?  The other side of this coin is to wonder who reads this information, and why do they want to know?  there is certain basic information that everybody has , like an address or phone number that I understand needs to be known, but there are an awful lot of unnecessary questions asked as well.

One of the organizations that does a lot of work with forms is the public school system.  (I can’t speak about private schools, but I rather suspect that is more a case of being able to lift the bag of money onto the headmaster’s desk.)  Every year the kids come home the first week of school with a pile of forms to fill out, and they can’t even read yet. After a few years, it became clear no one was reading this material, and we would fill out the same information again the next year for the same child, like this eight year old kid had maybe picked up a few credits at MIT over the summer.  How many languages does this child speak?  That question might make sense if you lived close to Canada where French is spoken a lot.  When these forms asked for parents’ occupations, we changed jobs each year.  Once, I put down that I was a steel-driving man, and my wife entered courtesan. (Robert Fulghum wrote that he always put down prince in the occupation blank.) Why does the school need to know the grandmother’s maiden name?  Would my child be held back a year if I lied about that?  It hasn’t happened yet.  (How many grandparents are named Attila, anyway?) In the blank for parents’ languages spoken at home, I usually entered Portuguese, Korean, and Hindi, but no English.  This avoided a lot of unnecessary parent-teacher conferences.  I also never knew why the school needed character references for parents.  The Public schools have to take kids even from Jack the Ripper, right?  Still, I filled in the blank.  I always listed my sainted Grandmother Rama, and if a second reference was needed, I put down Mother Teresa.  I didn’t think anyone was going to call Calcutta, and no one ever did.

Now, however, I find myself on the opposite side of the form.  I would like to sell my house.  The greedy have turned that into a fantasy for the moment, but it might happen at some later date.  At that point, I will have a form to give the lenders to fill out instead of the other way around.  The questions about character references will be long and very thoroughly checked.  Any lender with a history of bankers in the family will be rejected out of hand.  Anyone with connections to the Republicans will never get my business.  Anyone who lists character references that lack the combined positive qualities of St. Francis of Assisi, Abraham Lincoln, and Rose Kennedy will be swiftly assigned to the trash.          Dave Rama

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August 9, 2008 by Dave Rama.

We need more heroes. Heroes have character. They have passion and principle. I’ve always had heroes. They range from Chip Hilton to Dirty Harry, to the 1980 Olympic hockey team, to the crew of the Challenger, to Martin Luther King, Jr., to Hank Aaron, to Sister Teresa to Pat Tillman to Jessica Ellis. In my view, there is no one more heroic than Jackie Robinson, with the possible exceptions of Mr. Truman and Mr. Lincoln. They are all folks who were willing to take a stand on issues of importance. If you read
“THE CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE”, you will get the ideal of heroism. Heroism is the act of putting principle or the welfare of others above your own well-being.

There are anthems for heroes. My personal favorite is “the Impossible Dream” from Man of La Mancha. The martial music and stirring lyrics like “to fight the unbeatable foe”, or, “to be willing to march into Hell for a Heavenly cause”, combine to give us a picture of a heroic character.

In the sometimes-friendly confines of Baker City, there resides a somewhat Quixotic fellow. I am not aware of him tilting at windmills, but he does strive to push the boulder of enlightenment up the Blue Mountain of ignorance. He doesn’t give up easily, but sticks to his principles. He has attempted to get the village council to follow the U. S. Constitution. In the event the local council gets the message, then the REAL heavy lifting begins. then we can attempt to get Salem and Washington, D.C. to follow the Constitution.

In ten years of living in this community, Gary Dielman has never wandered into my line of sight. I hope I get to meet him. A person of principle intrigues me whether we agree or not. Anyone who is able and willing to annoy the religious right-wingers that John McCain called “agents of intolerance’ is certainly heroic enough for my list.

Dave Rama

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August 9, 2008 by Dave Rama.

Basketball is a fun game to play, terrific exercise, and entertaining to watch ( although there are qualifications on that last, like the six-on-six game the women used to play, and seventh grade boys intramurals). Basketball is also a good game to talk, and it comes with its own vernacular. The following is a beginner’s guide to the terms found on the playgrounds and in the gymnasiums of the country. Beginners will find this somewhat helpful, but the listings are not meant to be complete, as the lingo gets updated frequently. If your only interest in the sport is to watch young athletes cavort for your entertainment in short pants, this will be of no interest to you. If that is your motivation, enjoy. I have been known to watch beach volleyball for similar reasons.

Some of these terms are used to taunt and flaunt, and, on rare occasions, haunt an opponent. Other terms may be complimentary. For example, “the difference between champ and chump is U.” If you can determine whether this is taunting or complimentary, we are making progress. A widely used term is “dunk”. If your only use of this term involves Oreos and milk, this essay will be of little use to you.

Some portions of the country hold hoops to be a religion unto itself, and there are terms that reflect this fervent feeling. You need to understand that “prayer” and “talk to God” mean entirely different things. If I launch a prayer on the court (and I have done this), it means that I need to be in God’s good graces if I have any expectations of this unlikely shot going in the basket. Think of a flying, off-balance, dirty left-handed hook shot, and you will understand “prayer”. When these crazy attempts actually score, your prayer has been answered. A player who can “talk to God” is something entirely different from one puts up a “prayer”. This player can be considered blessed, because it means that he can jump really high; Maybe high enough to talk to the Lord face to face. For the record, no one has ever said that I could talk to God, though a fair number have suggested that it would be a good idea. I suffer from that debilitating condition known as “white man’s disease”, which is the inability to jump high. I share a first name with David Thompson, but no one has ever mistaken me for the original “skywalker”, who had a 44″ vertical jump from a standing start.

The art of rebounding adds a number of terms to our lexicon. If you are a “banksweeper” or a “boardman deluxe”, that means you are able to “eat some glass”, which is to say that you are a collector of “boards, yanks, pulls, and caroms”. If someone has named you “windex”, it means you do an excellent job of cleaning the glass. Backboards are now mostly made of glass, and are sometimes called the “window”.

There is a portion of the court on each end of the floor called the free throw lane, which was originally called the “key” or “keyhole” for its shape. It is now known as the three second zone, “the paint”, “the land of the giants”, and the “Valley of Death”. It is an area mostly inhabited by the larger, more physical players, and it usually suggested that the smaller players not venture into the paint.

The NBA has a group of mid-size players (6′4 to 6′8″) that usually are the dazzling athletes that amaze the crowd. A short list would include Michael Jordan, Kobe Bryant, and Julius Erving (known as Dr. J, because he could OPERATE on the court). These players administer “facials” to their opponents by dunking in their face. This is also called “posterizing” because somebody always gets a photo of these dunks, and the pictures are turned into posters for sale.

Players need not only physical but psychological strength as well, because everyone has to learn to deal with “rejection”. This is the act of getting your shot blocked, or “swatted”. A swat will immediately be followed by conversation. “How’d that taste?” “Eat it.” “Did you know that you have Wilson stamped on your forehead?”

The term “shake and bake” refers to a player who can shake loose from his defender, and “burn” him by scoring. “Wheeling and Dealing” describes a spin move, followed by a pass to an open teammate for an easy score. This was first applied to Earl “the Pearl” Monroe, whose original nickname was “Black Jesus” because he did miraculous things. Numerous players have been called “Velveeta” because their play was so smooth.

With the exception of dunks and layups all shots require arch. In math terms, the ball should follow a parabolic arc from the shooter’s hand to the basket or backboard. A flat shot without arch virtually never goes in. A shot that reaches for the sky is sometimes referred to as coming down with snow on top of the ball. That will still stand a better chance of going in than a line drive shot. Shots lifted from close range are called chippies, cherries, bunnies, rabbits, and cripples. Long shots are called treys, triples, or threes. A shooter firing from way behind the three point line will prompt the announcers to say “DEEP!” “downtown” “moon shot”, or “curve of the earth”.

Almost everyone knows the term “Swish”. This has nothing to do with how you walk. It refers to the sound of a shot that goes in without touching the rim or the backboard. That is also called “nothing but net”, or “twine!” A favorite for lots of fans is a ball that rolls around the rim several times before going in or out. That is called a “toilet-seater”.

Sometimes the terms can be confusing. Announcer Dick Vitale uses a complimentary description: “That kid can shoot the rock”!! The terms rock, pill, and apple all refer to the basketball. Confusion enters when someone refers to laying a “brick”. This is not a complimentary term, and the accompanying sound is not going to be a lovely swish, but is more likely to generate a clunk, a thud, or a clang. A player known as a bricklayer, a hod carrier, or a recent graduate of masonry school needs to do a lot of work on their shooting. The fan that wishes to follow the game and its conversation needs to understand the difference between “rock” and “brick”.

I hope this is helpful. It is not meant to be a comprehensive rendering of the slang associated with basketball, but simply a jumping off spot for those who have had their education neglected. If there is doubt, just remember, in basketball, skywalker is good and bricklayer is bad.

Dave Rama

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June 28, 2008 by Dave Rama.

In the course of time,customs and social behaviors change. That can be a good thing, or if you are an Olde Phoole, maybe less good in your estimation. It has been a very long time since I was introduced to anyone. Those of us in the O.P. category were taught that it was only good manners to introduce people to one another. “Miss Mary Jones, I would like to introduce my friend Mr. John Smith.” There is nothing too complicated about that. Still, in the present time, I almost always have to introduce myself to anyone new, and I always use my first and last names when doing so. This meets with a judgemental look right away. the response is always a first name only. John, Fred, Axman, whatever it may be. Last names are only for the IRS, and in rare cases, an employer. I know that more than one name used in public is not cool, though I have no idea why. Is it just cusssedness? Is it laziness? (This possibility gets a lot of votes in the O.P. group) The other guess from my uncool group is the person can’t remember their own last name, and certainly can’t be bothered to learn two names for you.

I have taken an aggressive stance on this matter. Now when someone tells me they are Arnold or Gandy or Fruitblossom, I say to them, “Oh, you are one of those people with one name, like Elvis or Madonna or Noah.” Or I ask if they have a last name. I have inquired if they are in the witness protection program, or if they are employed by the CIA. They will ALWAYS (eventually), mumble their surname like it was a dirty word. Then, of course, my deafness requires them to repeat it louder. Nobody argues with hearing aids. They may not remember my name when they move on to meet Gwen, or Susie, or Albertina, but they will know I was not cool enough to use one name only. My incorrectness in matters of cool is truly a gift from God.

I find this one name folderol to be an exercise in rudeness. It is not the lack of protocol of a formal introduction that makes it rude by my standards, but rather the fact that this individual finds you unworthy of their attention for more than ten seconds. Is our collective attention span that short? You are missing the human element here, folks. Someone suggests that we stop and smell the roses. If you can’t give more than a cursory greeting to new acquaintances, you may be missing out not on roses, but Rosalee.

My next tutorial on manners is how to execute a proper handshake. That dead fish business makes me vomit. Take a grip on that extended hand. It won’t hurt, and it will inform your new friend that you are present in this world, and not the next one.

If you are not acquainted with me do not throw me a hug like we were bosom friends. There are folks out and about that administer hugs like they were trying to sack the opposing quarterback. I find that to be way past friendly and into the neighborhood of desperation. Hugs are for the deserving and the needy and I am rarely either of those things.

So, now that I have gotten a load off my chest about these topics, what impact will this dissertation have, do you think? I would say approximately nothing. One of the best things about sharing these thoughts is that I feel a lot better. You are welcome to feel better or worse or unchanged as the case may be. If you do in fact, feel better, welcome to the O.P. group. We meet regularly on an unplanned basis. You can sometimes tell who we are by the gray hair, or in some cases, very little hair of any color. Feel free to introduce yourself (using two names, of course), and get a free handshake.

Dave Rama

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June 18, 2008 by Dave Rama.

I own a very trivial mind, and the mortgage is paid on it. The college loans are paid, and my little brain is overloaded with what may politely be called worthless information. Storing this pile of fact is the easy part. The difficult part is figuring out how to work it into the conversation.

It will become plain as we move along that there is no truth to the idea that age brings wisdom; it only brings more trivia. In the course of three score and more years, I have read thousands of novels, tens of thousands of magazine and newspaper articles, and countless captions under photographs. All of this stuff adds together, and it becomes a burden. My newest idea is to share a bunch of this burden with you, and thereby lighten my own load. What you do with this data is up to you, and you do have my thanks for your willingness to help.

I am a second-degree college person, and we all know that two degrees is very cold. That is pretty small potatoes next to a thirty-second degree mason. (Thirty-two degrees is cool.) I have no idea what the nth degree is, but it sounds big. I wonder how a person measures college degrees, Masonic degrees, and letter degrees. Are they calculated on the Celsius or Fahrenheit scale? Are the National Weather Service workers who record this data employed full time, or are they merely temps? Is there a big difference to be found in any of this, or is it simply a matter of degree?

If you were to show me a modern map, I can find China on it right away. If you show me an outdated map, I will be able to find Indochina right away. I know how to play Chinese checkers. I can tell you right now that Red China goes very well with a yellow tablecloth. When a Chinese fellow is described as “one in a million,” it means there are 1000 more just like him. When you tell me that I don’t stand a “Chinaman’s chance”, I will understand the implications of that.

To take an entirely different set of facts, it is a matter of record that George Armstrong Custer graduated dead last in his class at West Point. (To go off on a political tangent, we have living proof every day that not every graduate of Yale is a whiz, either.) To give Custer credit, he did graduate. He met the requirements of a college that has quite a stringent course of study. Every year, that academy on the Hudson turns out a freshly minted class of Second Lieutenants, and there is always a person who ranks first in their class, and there is always a person who ranks last. Virtually every American knows about the end of Custer’s career. It happened on the Little Big Horn in the grasslands of Eastern Montana, and even today, the mere mention of the name Custer will bring a resounding cheer from any assembly of Sioux or Cheyenne. Some of you may know that Custer was the youngest man in the history of the U.S. Army to achieve the rank of General, and no one else has even come close to reaching that rank at the age of TWENTY-THREE. That happened during the Civil War, and was at least partly due to attrition. Age 23 is not the world record. By the age of 23, Alexander of Macedonia had conquered his entire known world. Nevertheless, any comparison of Custer and Alexander the Great brings to mind a quote attributed to Albert Einstein. When asked for a comparison of stupidity and genius, Einstein reportedly said, “genius has limits.”

In a scintillating course, in my very recent high school endeavors, the daily topic was Chemistry. It was full of atoms, valences, neutrons, protons, ions, and in my case, at least one moron. I have retained two pieces of trivial matter from this course. One is the periodic table of elements, which is full of atomic weights and such as that. The second is NACL, which is chemical talk for salt. That may bring to mind Lot’s wife, who shall continue to be nameless, but she is still considered a salty woman. As a public service, I wish to report that the valences mentioned above should not be confused with valances, which are a type of curtains. I do think that the chemistry teacher, Mr. Reed, should also be mentioned here for his extraordinary collection of dirty stories. They were not told in class, of course. At least, Mr. Reed did not share these stories in class. Perhaps I could share one with you now. No, I guess I won’t. That would be considered common.

In arithmetic class, there was something called the Pythagorean theorem. It is an excellent rule about right triangles and their assorted hypoteneuses. It could also have been history class, as Pythagoras lived quite a while back. Perhaps I’m thinking of Archimedes, who is famous for his amazing, and very strange quote, “Eureka!” I suspect that Archie was returning from a village in Northern California. Anyway, it’s Greek to me. It is also odd, when you see the word theorem to find out that it rhymes with fear ‘em, and cheer ‘em, and spear ‘em. It looks like it should be score ‘em, or gore ‘em, or bore ‘em.

Well, I would certainly like to go on, but just getting this much unwanted and unloved information out into the open has made me feel a bit lightheaded already. I thank you for your assistance in relieving the pressure on my amoeba one-cell. I feel so much better. Next time, we will explore the limits of genius. Ciao. (That’s Italian talk.)

Dave Rama

Pee Ess: The Sioux and the Cheyenne did not much care for Custer, but they do give him credit where it is due. Even today, those folks will tell you that Custer was well dressed at Little Big Horn. They point out that he wore an Arrow shirt.

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