The melatonin seemed to work last night. Either that or I was just ready to go to bed when I went to bed.

A sleeping drug whose effects I’m unable to distinguish from natural sleep is probably a good thing.

–Howard

I’m out at dictionary.com looking up the word redolent, which I know means “smelly,” but it never hurts to know the finer points of usage.

In the right column were some Google ads. I like Google ads, because 95% of the time I see something either innocuous, interesting, or humorously juxtaposed.
I also like Google ads because they’re paying my grocery bill, and maybe my rent this month.

The top ad in that column began with the headline “embarrassing vaginal odor.”

Well, yeah. I guess that would be redolent, and I suppose if it were embarrassing, vaginal, and redolent, and in my house, I’d want to know about products that solve the problem.

Do the folks selling those products pay money to Google for placement alongside the word “redolent?” Dare I look up the words “stench” or “putrefaction?”

–Howard

p.s. I’m not going to tell you what word I looked up in the dictionary to pop a Google ad that promised me a product that would, and I quote “Deodorize Poop Itself!”

Sandra and I watched a few episodes of CSI that had been Tivo’d by my Father-in-law. Naturally, they had the requisite amount of commercial material inserted in the appropriate places.

How do you people who watch television put up with this? We fast-forwarded through most of the commercials, but even then the banality, the sheer commercial pedestrianism was painfully obvious. PAINFULLY. I felt physically ill. I felt I.Q. points being stripped away in the odiferous wind of 30-second spots. I had to close my eyes.

The last time I remember feeling this way was on my first visit to Las Vegas, when I stood transfixed, watching a withered crone pump quarter after quarter into an airport slot machine. I was depressed by that sight, and felt physically ill. And yes, TV commercials this evening made me feel the same way.

11 years ago Sandra and I decided that we couldn’t afford cable TV, and that an antenna was too much trouble for the three channels we’d get. So we started to do without. Today I look back at that decision and wonder how different our lives would be had we given something else up in order to afford cable. And then I shudder involuntarily.

Turn off your television before it’s too late. There is nothing out there worth sitting through commercials for. NOTHING.

–Howard

There’s this gut-wrenching, heart-rending story from some Katrina survivors on CNN.com, (link) in which we’re told the tale of a family trapped in their attick for three days. During that time the grandmother died, the mother considered suicide (inviting the daughters to participate), and one of the girls managed to talk Mom out of it.

Two things stand out.

1) The suicide method would have been “Death by Lortab.” I’ve had Lortab. I know, that’s not really a personal connection with these people, but it’s a start.
2) They decided not to evacuate initially because of their pets (three dogs, a cat, a guinea pig, a gerbil, six hamsters and a parakeet.). Then, when the levees broke and the water began rising, they lost some precious time trying to save the pets, and ended up saving two of the dogs. Both dogs have now been abandoned.

Their ordeal really is harrowing to read. And, in the spirit of “let’s all try to learn something useful here,” It also serves as a cautionary tale. The moral of the story? Prioritize the human lives in your house far enough above the animal lives that when push comes to shove, you don’t have to think twice before letting your pets die — even if the coming calamity is only a possibility.

I’ve cried when my pets died. I’ve felt a deep connection to the animals my family lived with. But I’d MUCH rather console my children over the abandonment of our animals than over the fact that they had to watch and listen as their grandmother died of congestive heart failure while lying in filthy water in a 110-degree attic. No, I don’t believe this family knew at the time that they were making that choice, and HAD they known, I’m sure they would have chosen differently.

If my home ever catches fire, the only thought I’ll waste on our cute, little teddy-bear hamster named Hazel is that NOBODY pauses to pull her out of the house until the fire is OUT. And nobody goes back in to fight the fire except firemen.

If we ever have to evacuate the city I’m in, whether or not there’s a certainty of calamity, we’ll pile in and leave. I’ll throw a couple of extra food pellets in the little furball’s cage, set it out on the counter where looters and do-gooders can find it, and be done with it.

Prioritizing in this way is something you have to do in advance.

–Howard