Welcome to my humor blog where I offer my take on: Life - that crazy stuff that happens on the way to your dreams *** Liberty - to Snippet on any subject that pops into my brain *** and the Pursuit of Happiness - both yours and mine.

If your funny bone's been tickled, why not share with a friend? It might be just what they need to brighten their day.

Thursday, March 19, 2015

Mensa Moment

I thought the TV show “Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader?” was pretty intimidating. Who remembers the year Paul Revere rode his horse waving a lantern, anyway?  But watching a season of “Child Genius” made me want to buy a one-way ticket to Stupidsville.
Based on a British show, dubbed by one reviewer as “the cruelest reality tv show ever”, twenty uber-smart kidlets, aged 8-12 came to So.Cal to compete in a contest to be crowned kid-genius and win 100K towards their college fund (one 12 year old was already in college on a scholarship—but he didn’t win anyway–and no, he wasn’t my grandson).
For eight weeks, these little Einsteins crammed their brains with everything from the Human Body and U.S. Presidents to, Zoology, Astronomy and Logic. It was fascinating.
I gave up trying to play along early in the first episode. This wasn’t Jeopardy and I’m no Mensa member. Heck, I’m proud when I pass the first level of Brain Games on my Kindle.  
However, it did surprise me to see the types of questions that threw them for a loop. For instance, in the spelling challenge, one genius misspelled the word accumulate, yet breezed through a word like dehydroepiandrosterone (it’s a type of human hormone…just in case you were wondering). For one fleeting moment, I felt there was a chance I actually was a wee bit smarter than a 5th grader. It didn’t last long—next came the math segment.
They threw out questions like “multiply 124 by 14, subtract 86 and multiply by 8, and finally divide by 2”. Of course, the kids had to figure out the answer, in their head, in a nano-second.  I could put the show on pause, get out paper, pencil, calculator, set a timer for thirty minutes and still be lucky to get within a foot of the answer. Math has never been my strong suit—especially story problems. To this day, Garth, my former math teacher hubby, still can’t get me to understand how many revolutions a car’s tires will make if it travels at 63 miles per hour as it passes through Poughkeepsie. Seriously, do I really care? Does anyone?
Watching the kids study was almost as much fun as watching the parents trying to help (and sometimes hinder) their progress. One little charmer quipped, "My daddy is not as smart as I am, because he has a 135 IQ, and I have a 146."  My kids would have felt the wrath of Mommy Dearest with a smart-alecky remark like that. Little Charmer’s dad just shrugged in resignation. Wimp.
Some online reviews tagged the parents “Tiger Moms, Eagle Dads and Lunatics”. Teeth bared and ready for battle, growling grown-ups cajoled, insulted and even argued with the judges to help their darlings grab the coveted title. Interestingly, Child Genius was broadcast immediately following Dance Moms. Now those are some real lunatic Tiger Moms. They could have passed along some tips.
I think I’m glad my kids weren’t geniuses.  Helping with their homework would have been a joke and I would have missed out on offering motherly pearls of wisdom when they were having an adolescent crisis.  Still, knowing how many revolutions my car tires needed to make before I got to the supermarket when the milk ran out in the middle of cooking breakfast might have made my life a bit easier.

Saturday, February 21, 2015

And the Award Goes to ….Who??????????

It’s Academy Award time again, and I, like millions of others, will be hunkered up for 4+ hours watching with baited breath. I really can’t tell you why I do it. I don’t go to the movies much, and on the rare occasion I decide that I actually I want to see something in the theatre, it’s already long gone. So, I have to wait until the DVD is available to rent at the library, and by that time, I’ve forgotten which movies I wanted to see anyway.
Of course, I wouldn’t miss the enjoyment of red-carpet-gown-bashing, and I sometimes find the entertainment between presentations amusing. But when it comes to the ceremonious winner reveals and acceptance speeches, I find them about as exciting as watching the beer truck unload in front of the 7-11.
Hosted, this year, by Doogie Hauser (I know Neil Patrick Harris is an accomplished song & dance man, Emmy and Tony winner, but he’ll always be Doogie to me), I anticipate nothing to laugh about in the hilarity department. Let’s face facts, they’ve tried tons of different hosts, but all pale to Billy Crystal riding in on a horse with saddles blazing.
Also, is it just me, or do this year’s nominees seem a bit obscure? I recently saw an ad on TV that proclaimed “most people probably haven’t heard of, much less seen, the award nominees.” That’s encouraging.  No doubt we’ll hear someone blurt out those unforgettable words from Butch Cassady and the Sundance Kid, “Who Are Those Guys?”
Well known or little known, I know where I’ll be come Sunday night.  I’m not going to embarrass myself by giving any predictions or opinions on who should win an award. However, I am hoping that “American Sniper” takes home a golden statue — if for no other reason than to bust Michael Moore’s chops. Then again, there's Clint and Bradley...ummm...guess they're reason enough!

Wednesday, January 28, 2015

What's so SUPER about Super Bowl?

If you’re all hyped up about Super Bowl Sunday, this might make you cry. 

Get ready for it …I have no idea who’s playing in the game … and 

There, I’ve said it.

I just can’t get excited about football, or any sports, for that matter. I’ve tried. But once they extended all the various seasons to overlap and run continually for 12 months, they lost me. The other day I overheard some friends discussing the Seahawks VS Packers game and I asked if the Hawks is a hockey team. The looks of horror on their faces made me slink away like a wounded puppy. 

Let’s face it, the Super Bowl broadcasts just don’t muster up to the good old days. I remember the annual bashes where the men were glued in front of the TV and the women were in another room solving the world’s fashion crisis while sucking down cocktails. My kind of sports viewing. 

And how about those halftime extravaganzas?  There hasn’t been any excitement in those shows since the infamous “wardrobe malfunction”. Now, it’s just, “ya seen one rock band ya seen ‘em all”. I heard Katy Perry is performing this year…big whoop! I’m sure all the teeny boppers will be mesmerized. 

Truth be told, I will admit to poking my head into the room when the commercials come on. Who can resist those darling Clydesdales? It still brings a tear to my eye every time I hear the “Rocky” theme.  The rest of the them, however, seem to have gone to hell-in-a-hand-basket. I think I read somewhere that only 14 people watched the follow-up program "Super Bowl's Greatest Commercials".  We are not surprised.

Thought I’d do a little digging to find out what we can expect to see this year for $4+ million a pop, and I have some good news and bad news. The good news for the ladies—most of the car ads will be kaput, and most of the “offensive to female” ads are a thing of the past. Even the Victoria Secrets models will appear in football uniforms instead of scanty undies. 

But don’t worry, men. The good news—Carl’s Jr. will still feature a seemingly naked Charlotte McKinney in perhaps one of the raciest and most juvenile Super Bowl ads ever. A little something for everyone!

So, sports fans, enjoy your day munching on Doritos and Queso dip and cheering your little hearts out. As for those of us who have little interest, all I can say is, “Thank heaven for DVRs”!!!