A Fashion Emergency!

Call me crazy, but I didn't think mug shots were supposed to look good.  I've never posed for one myself, but I figure a person should get a free pass in the looks department when they've been arrested and tossed in front of a camera...especially since they're probably drunk.  People have enough trouble capturing good pictures of me when I'm sober and not battling the law.

But apparently the founding fathers missed a big one when they drafted the Bill of Rights: the right to a fabulous mug shot.  Before I get into the details, I'll just say this: you know you're in for a fantastically trashy tale when the main character's name is "Tanya Ann."  And, to the surprise of absolutely no one, the events of this story took place down south in Georgia.

Tanya Ann Fowler had her mug shot taken after police arrested her for "teroristic threats and acts"...whatever that means.  Here's how that mugshot turned out:

You may not know it to look at the picture, but Tanya Ann is a woman who cares deeply about her personal appearance.  Her unflattering mug shot found it's way into a weekly publication in Commerce, Georgia called "The Bad and the Busted."  Being the fashion icon that she is, Tanya Ann was not happy.  And even a kindergartener knows that when there's an emergency, you call 911.

So that's exactly what Tanya Ann did.  Last Sunday, she dialed 911 and complained about her unsightly mug shot.  Apparently, that call was strike three.  Strikes one and two came earlier in the afternoon when Tanya Ann called 911 in search of someone to store her meager possessions after she was evicted from her "home" (I'm assuming the author of the article treats "home" and "trailer" as synonyms).

Well, Tanya Ann got her wish--a second chance on that mug shot.  The cops charged her with obstruction of a 911 operator and brought her into the station.  I'll admit, I thought that Tanya Ann's compliant about the first picture just absurd, but after seeing her second mug shot, it's clear the the first one didn't do her justice:

Amazing what a little preparation and some makeup will do, isn't it?  Just kidding, of course.  Here's the actual second mug shot:

Let's face it, on a scale of one to ten, Tanya Ann couldn't score a point if she were being compared to a lineup of the world's ugliest farm animals.  I'm not really sure how to rank this picture relative to the first mug shot...but here it goes.  On one hand, Tanya Ann's face doesn't look as creased and wrinkled in this shot.  But on the other hand, it looks like she gave her mullet some fancy groomin' in the other picture.  And what's going on with her eyes?  It looks like two photographers stood on either side of her, each telling her to look directly into the camera.  Miraculously, she obliged both requests.

This unfortunate series of events can serve as an important reminder for all the potential criminals out there.  If you've even considering the possibility of committing a criminal act, try to look your best.  Fix your hair, put on some makeup, and wear a color that complements the beige concrete block that you'll be standing in front of when the cops take your picture.  And for the love of god, direct both eyes at the same camera.

Here's a link to the story:
http://news.yahoo.com/blogs/sideshow/georgia-woman-calls-911-complain-mug-shot-gets-184622953.html

The Illegality of Stupidity

I'm not exactly sure how to react to these new laws that are intended to enforce what most people would consider common sense behavior.  They seem so incredibly unnecessary, but I guess the reality is that there a lot of stupid people out there.  And I certainly think that it makes sense to give law enforcement officials the authority to punish those people for their stupidity.

Over the past few years, many states have passed laws banning texting and driving.  I suppose if I were more motivated, I could easily look up the answer to this question...but I wonder if it's possible to avoid punishment based on the technicalities of the law.  Does the law really only ban texting, or is it general no-phone legislation?  For example, if I'm emailing behind the wheel and get pulled over, can I avoid a ticket if I can prove that I had Verizon shut off the texting capabilities on my phone long ago? 

And how tightly do these laws define "driving"?  I've been known to surf the internet while waiting at red lights. It's a strategy I strongly advocate--not only does it make productive use of a few boring, idle minutes, but I would argue that if everyone followed my lead, there would be far less road rage among the after work, stop-and-go crowd.  Using a smartphone in an unmoving vehicle is hardly dangerous.  What's the worst that happens--someone fails to notice that the light turned green and the drivers behind him start honking?

Now, Fort Lee, New Jersey is passing a law to make texting and walking illegal.  The local police chief cites twenty-three pedestrian accidents as the cause for this new law, but I think we can all point to one person who really caused this mess:



Cathy Cruz Marrero, the infamous fountain flipper, is the obvious mascot for this legal crusade.  After hilariously tumbling into a mall fountain in Pennsylvania while texting, she went on Good Morning America and other news programs, complaining about the tremendous embarrassment she suffered after the surveillance footage went viral.  She even considered filing a lawsuit against the mall security team who let the video find its way onto the internet.  Given that the person's face is unrecognizable in the video footage, one wonders why someone so afraid of public humiliation didn't simply skip the press tour and remain anonymous.  But then again, it's clear that common sense just isn't one of Marrero's strengths.  Looks like someone is fishing for an easy payday at the bottom of a fountain...

There's also the less-known but equally hilarious case of a man near Glendale, California who nearly got himself killed while focusing a bit too much on his phone.  A bear had been wandering around a California neighborhood regularly for over a month, and the man woke up and heard a helicopter overhead--a helicopter, he would later learn, that was tracking the bear as it walked near his house.

The went outside to check out the action and decided to send his boss a text, explaining that he was going to be late to work.  While typing his message, the man came dangerously close to walking into the bear.  A brilliant move, indeed, but the man survived to get himself killed another day.  Luckily, the helicopter was there to capture the footage:



With incidents like these making headlines, it's no wonder that towns are starting to pass these common sense laws.  The article that I read later posted a clarification, noting that the law does, in fact, allow officers to issue tickets for "dangerous walking," which includes, but is not limited to, texting and walking.  I'm quickly losing faith in my "officer, I was emailing, not texting!" defense...but I still wonder about the unmoving vehicle defense.

Anyway, there's clearly a better way to deal with idiots who don't pay attention to their surroundings, whether they are driving or walking.  If only there were a way to relocate all of these people in one area and just let them Charles Darwin each other out of existence.  Mount some HD cameras at all the street corners, and in a matter of weeks YouTube will be teeming with epic collisions involving drivers who were too distracted by their phones to notice that they were about to hit a pedestrian who was too engrossed in texting to get out of the way.  Throw some loose bears into this utopia of stupidity, and the rest of the world will be a safer and more entertaining place.

Here are some links:
http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-501465_162-57433581-501465/texting-while-walking-banned-in-n.j-town/

http://news.cnet.com/8301-17938_105-57412188-1/watch-now-texting-man-ambushed-by-bear/?tag=contentMain;contentBody

Playing With The House's Money

It turns out that July has been quite the month for big news in Iowa.  When I was back home, I heard that an audit found that the University of Iowa payroll department issued over-payments totaling nearly $650,000 during the previous school year.  Now, the lucky recipients of those payments have to pay back the excess funds, either through payroll deductions or via direct billing from the university.

The article mentioned that the audit uncovered a total of 338 payroll over-payments.  That really makes you wonder why the university needed an audit to uncover the problem--didn't a single person come forward?  I don't know if it was 338 different people who received over-payments, but at least some of them had to notice, and it's surprising that not a single do-gooder pointed out that their paycheck mysteriously increased.

  Overpaying employees for more than 160 years.

On the surface, receiving a windfall from an artificially high paycheck sounds fantastic--who wouldn't want more money for the same amount of work?  But even though many months have passed between the time the payments were issued and someone figured out what had happened, these things always seem to get uncovered.  (Though, in all fairness, I guess we don't hear about incidents like this that go undetected...)

Anyway, I'm willing to bet that some of the people who received over-payments didn't even notice.  People with direct deposit who don't pay much attention to the ins and outs of their bank transactions and account balances could easily have let this slide.  You've gotta feel a little bad for the unfortunate employees who had no idea this was happening and now find themselves holding an unexpected bill from the U of I.  But I guess that's a good reminder in why you should pay attention to your bank account...

On the other hand, this is a hilarious miscalculation for those who knew they were getting paid too much, remained silent thinking this would go undetected, and spent the money.  If they don't have the money to reimburse the university, it looks like it's wage garnishment time.  And if any of those employees lost their jobs at the university and are broke...well...like I said, hilarious.

Here's my personal philosophy.  If you realize you're getting overpaid and decide to go the dishonest route and say nothing about it, at least have the common sense to hold onto the money.  There's a good chance someone's going to eventually uncover the error and you'll have to return it.  So if you're going to remain silent, at least enjoy the ride and collect a paltry interest rate on the overpaid funds until someone discovers the error and you're forced to plead ignorance and return the money.  Taking a more "aggressive" approach with this accidental can lead to serious problems, as a recent story illustrates.

A Detroit man named Ronald Page held a checking account with a regional bank called Lasalle Bank.  To say that Mr. Page was not wealthy would be an understatement--he had only a few hundred dollars in his checking account...but that was about to change.  What do banks do best?  Buy other banks.  Several years ago, Bank of America (the self-proclaimed "Bank of Opportunity") acquired Lasalle Bank, and in the process of transferring cusomters' account information, BoA made a costly error.  Costly for everyone involved, it would turn out.

A computer glitch at the Bank of Opportunity presented Page with the opportunity to withdrawal unlimited funds from the bank's ATMs without any overdraft restrictions.  When he discovered this, Page did the only logical thing and withdrew more than $1.5 million between late 2008 and early 2009.  Had he kept the money and deposited it into a savings account, the interest alone would have been staggering--this was back in the days when interest rates weren't fractions of a part of a tenth of a percent.  I wonder if Bank of America would have noticed if he deposited the money back into his own account...and could they still charge him with theft of bank funds?

After withdrawing all that money, Page tried parlay his new found wealth into an even larger fortune by heading to the blackjack table.  Needless to say, things didn't turn out as he'd planned--all Page succeeded into doing was earning compound interest on his own stupidity.  Over the course of two weeks, he gambled away all $1.5 million, and BoA discovered the missing cash.  Unable to repay his ill-gotten debt, Page now faces more than a year in jail for theft of bank funds.

.

Interestingly, the only reason Page isn't facing a longer prison sentence is because the U.S. Attorney's office placed part of the blame on Bank of America, because it was their computer error that presented Page with the opportunity to steal all that cash in the first place.  That sounds like faulty logic to me, but as a bank customer, I do find it incredibly annoying when banks merge, change everyone's account numbers, staff their branches with ignorant tellers, and add a bunch of new fees.

And it would seem that the University of Iowa has plenty of problems of its own.  The university audit claims that the $650,000 in over-paid wages was an increase of $73,000 from the previous school year. What are they doing down there?!  A one-time error of this size is bad enough, but it sounds like faulty payroll controls are as much a part of the school year as spring break and finals week.  That's pretty weak for an institution that publishes the salaries of all its employees online.

This just goes to show you what not to do when accidental monies show up unexpectedly.  I'm not here to preach the virtues of honesty, but if you decide to keep the cash and hope that the missing funds go undetected, at least have presence of mind to invest conservatively in case your luck runs out.

Here are a few links to the stories:

http://siouxcityjournal.com/news/state-and-regional/iowa/state-audit-shows-university-of-iowa-payroll-overpayments/article_4aea7116-c86f-11e1-8afe-0019bb2963f4.html

http://news.yahoo.com/blogs/sideshow/detroit-man-gambles-away-1-5-million-accidentally-191619543.html

When Life Gives You Lemons...Get A Permit!

Between kids on summer vacation and the heat wave that's been sweeping the nation for the past two weeks, I've seen far too many child-operated lemonade stands popping up in driveways, on street corners, and even at Lake Calhoun.  But you have to wonder...is this legal?  Every so often, you hear about the police shutting down a child's stand because they didn't have the proper permits for street-vending.  These stories are followed immediately by a public outcry from people who think the law enforcement officials shouldn't take the law so seriously.

When Iowa comes up in conversation, I normally keep my mouth shut and attempt to sneak away silently, hoping to avoid the embarrassment, shame, and mocking that others typically bestow upon me for having grown up one of the nation's top five most boring states.  But this week marked one of the few times that I stood up tall and shouted proudly from the rooftop that I hail from the corn capitol of the world.

On Monday night, I heard on the news that police officers in Coralville, Iowa recently shut down a child's lemonade stand because he didn't have a vendor's permit.  I tried to look up the story online, but my search yielded both delight and disappointment.  Somehow, I couldn't find any record of the story, but I did turn up a remarkably similar tale from last summer.

In late July of 2011, Coralville cops shut down three different lemonade stands in one weekend!  My favorite line from the article came from a woman named Bobbie Nelson, whose six children had their stand shut down after just twenty minutes after negligently failing to acquire the necessary $400 vendor permit.  Nelson said, "The kids were devastated. They just cried and didn't understand why."

The only thing I don't understand is why these stories are newsworthy.  These vendor permit laws are designed to protect the health and safety of the public.  Why should age exempt anyone--especially children--from a well-intentioned ordinance?  Especially when children are notoriously germy and wash their hands after going to the bathroom about as often as they purchase vending permits.  Having their lemonade stands shut down provides these budding entrepreneurs with a valuable life lesson in the mechanics of running a business and in adhering to the laws of their local communities.  I've heard that Kenneth Lay, Andrew Fasdow, and the other criminal executives at Enron all ran unlicensed lemonade stands as children.  Coincidence?  We may never know for sure...


I'm a law-abiding citizen--and one who finds children endlessly annoying--but I also have economic reasons behind my delight in the noble efforts of the Coralville P.D.  Let's face it: these days, you can't find a kid selling lemonade for less than a quarter a cup...and those cups are usually tiny.  Based on the input costs, that cup of lemonade shouldn't cost more than five or ten cents, which would still provide a reasonable return for the stand operator.  What gives these kids the right to think that they can gouge the unsuspecting public by charging more than double the fair market price for their product?  And it's not uncommon to find children hawking cups of fifty-cent lemonade!  The profit margins are outrageous--I think they're involved in some kind of twisted price-fixing scheme!

The situation has me thinking about a fun and potentially profitable way to spend some vacation days next summer.  On those unbearably hot July days, I'm going to take a week off work, find a town with a lax police department, and locate some children running lemonade stands  I'll set up shop right next door and give 'em the old Bill Gates routine.  First, I'll buy lemons and sugar in bulk quantities and achieve tremendous economics of scale, then I'll set my prices so low that their little enterprises will be crushed within minutes, leaving them with nothing but tears and an unsold inventory of overpriced lemonade.  Then it's off to the next driveway to destroy the next competitor who dares challenge me.

I'm confident that the public will welcome a trustworthy, adult vendor who is offering a fair price for cold, refreshing lemonade on a hot summer day.  If the cops won't take care of business, someone has to step in...and that someone is me.  With my love of hot weather, spending time outdoors, and crushing the dreams of children, I can't think of a job better suited to my unique interests and abilities.  And I can guarantee this: my business will hold all of the necessary and required permits.  Now that's newsworthy, and I'll glady welcome the free publicity that will undoubtedly swarm to my stand.

Here's a link to the story of Coralville's finest police work:

http://www.kcrg.com/news/local/Coralville-Police-Shutdown-Several-Childrens-Lemonade-Stands-126592563.html

Tragony...or Ironedy?

Death is rarely a happy event, but since every living thing's time will come eventually, I suppose there's at least some consolation in providing the world with a little entertainment while leaving the land of the living.  We can all hope that we go as quickly, painlessly, and ironically as possible.  What follows are two perfect examples of spectacularly ironic ending to some life stories.

We'll start with a tale from the animal kingdom.  The rhinoceroses population in South Africa is struggling in a big way, and strangely enough, mythical and magical powers are to blame...at least indirectly.  Poachers have been more active in rhino hunting in recent years as demand for rhino horns has soared.  While the horns don't offer much in the way of practical uses, some African and Southeast Asian cultures believe the horns have special medicinal or magical powers, and people are willing to pay top dollar.

With the increase in poaching activity, conservation groups have upped their efforts to save the rhinos.  Some groups have tried removing the horns from living rhinos to beat the poachers to the punch.  The horns, much like human hair or finger nails, grow back after a few months. 

Other conservationists are experimenting with a process that involves placing a poison capsule into the horns of living rhinos.  If poachers kill the rhino and remove the horn, the capsule releases the poison and makes the horn useless for its intended medicinal purposes.  How the poachers know the rhino has a poison capsule in its horn before killing the animal, I have no idea...but there must be a way.

Now here's where the tragic and ironic death part of the story comes into play.  Early in February, a group of conservationists in South Africa called together members of the press to watch them sedate a rhino and insert one of these anti-poaching poison capsules into its horn.  But there was one major problem with this noble effort to save the rhino's live: the outcome was the exact opposite of what the conservationists had hoped to achieve. 

When the group shot Spencer the rhino with a dart full of anesthesia, he started convulsing, went to sleep, and never woke up.  Oops! One of the would-be rhino rescuers called it, "an unfortunate reaction to the anesthesia," recognizing that there is always a risk that an animal may not wake up after being tranquilized.  We can all take comfort in knowing that Spencer lead a long and full life--like me, he was in his mid- to late-20s, which is apparently old for a rhinoceros.  The saddest part is that he was three days from retirement when they darted him.

Such tragic endings aren't limited to the animal world.  Two months after Spencer's passing, a Russian plane carrying fifty people went missing after the tower lost radio contact with the pilots.  The next day, a search team turned up debris from the plane in the mountains of Indonesia, with no survivors.  The aircraft was a new type of passenger jet called the Superjet 100, though aviation experts have since agreed that the plane was significantly less super than the name implied.

Not the intended landing site.

Aside from the sad loss of life, the crash of the Superjet also crushed the hopes and dreams of the Russian aviation industry, which has struggled with safety and quality issues since it's glory days as the USSR.  The Superjet 100's manufacturer, a company called Sukhoi that's run by the Russian government, has been trying to overcome the country's troubled history in flight and convince other nations to purchase its aircraft.  The Superjet was the first new passenger jet to come out of Russia since the USSR days, but this headline-grabbing debut doesn't bode well for sales.  Who says all publicity is good publicity?

Once again, that's where the ironic part of the tragedy comes into play.  That plane that went nose-first into the Indonesian volcano was on a demonstration flight intended to prove the safety and comfort of the new aircraft.  As such, it was full of journalists, business people, and aircraft technicians, and pilots.  If this doesn't convince the world to scoop up all the Russian aircraft they can afford, I don't know what will.  But hey, I bet you can pick up a Russian-made plane for pennies on the dollar right about now...

At least Spencer lived a long life and got to go relatively peacefully.  I'm sure there were plenty of young people among the fifty killed on the mountainside in Indonesia, and "peaceful" and "plane crash" are the oil and water of the aviation industry.  What a sad an unlikely combination...a rhino that gets killed in the name of preventing rhino killings, and a plane that crashes on a safety demonstration flight.  At all those affected got to leave a lasting impression on the world with an entertaining final chapter to their lives.

Here are some links to the stories:

http://worldnews.msnbc.msn.com/_news/2012/02/09/10364240-rhino-dies-in-anti-poaching-demo-by-conservationists

http://www.reuters.com/article/2012/05/10/us-indonesia-sukhoi-idUSBRE8480LB20120510

Give Me A Sign

One of the things that really stood out during last month's vacation was the grossly inadequate signage along most of the trails in the local, state, and national parks of our fine country's southwestern region.   I was consistently amazed that for so many different trails, the guide book had one map, the sign at the trailhead had another map, and both of those maps looked nothing like the actual trail that I found once I started hiking...and in case you were wondering, yes, I confirmed that I was on the correct trail.  It's like the cartographers were blind, drunk, and lazy when they charted their course and shared it with the hiking world.

I can't begin to count the number of times I stood at an unexpected, unmarked fork in the trail, pondering my next move.  You'd think a loop trail would be a relatively circular path that would eventually bring you back to your starting point without much thought.  But it seemed like every hundred yards, I found myself at a four-way intersection, and each of the three options appeared to be equally viable candidates for the correct path toward my destination.  So many times, a simple loop trail turned into a spider web-like maze of intersecting madness.  And I fared no better when a notoriously complex network of trails had absolutely zero signage to mark the way.

Lots of trails? Don't expect any help beyond the trailhead sign....

Is it too much to ask for some periodic guidance along the way?  I'm not expecting a fancy, hand-carved masterpieces for a sign--I'm perfectly happy with a piece of cardboard with a crudely drawn arrow duct taped to a stick at a crucial intersection.  At first I figured sign problems must be a budget thing, especially with California's financial issues.  But how much can it cost to jam a branch in the ground and whip together some kind of rough arrow and a word or two?

I eventually realized that the sign problems had nothing to do with the state budget crisis.  It wasn't so much the lack of signage that was at the root it was the problem;  it was the poor placement of the few existing signs.  Apparently the park rangers installing these signs aren't the brightest stars in the sky.  Take, for example, this sign at Torrey Pines State Reserve near San Diego:

A sign like this might be helpful in some circumstances, but when you're standing thirty feet from the Pacific Ocean with an unobstructed view of the water and can barely hear yourself think over the sound of crashing waves, "Beach" isn't exactly solving any mysteries for hikers.  Why not pass on installing useless guideposts like these and plant a sign at the intersection of six different unmarked trails in the middle of the desert, where it's almost impossible to not get lost?

I know I can find at least one car full of people who can agree with my complains.  This isn't just a regional problem, and it affects road quality as much as it does trail navigation.  You know those "Bump" signs you often see along the side of the road, only to drive over what feels like a tiny pebble?

Talk about useless signage--I don't even slow down when I see those anymore.  The driver of an SUV near Eau Claire, Wisconsin took the same approach recently, with hilarious consequences:

The jump looks like something straight out of a movie.  This seems like one of those situations where the construction workers who put the signs up should have given drivers a little more advance notice.  By the time that driver was asking, "what do those orange signs say?" he was already three feet off the ground.  I smell a lawsuit on this one...

It's amazing what a person can accomplish despite not knowing how to use a smartphone camera.  The only reason this clip got captured on video at all was because someone stopped to take a picture of the heat-buckled road in Wisconsin.  The woman thought her phone was set to photo mode, but instead she shot one of the greatest accidental video clips of all time.  I imagine that's why she didn't keep the camera pointed toward the SUV to see it stick the landing.  There are plenty of people out there with a love of photography and an ignorance of handheld technology who just might be able to cobble together accidental careers.  (This includes you, Mom.  Just kidding...or am I?)

After watching this video, getting a little turned around on a trail doesn't seem like such a big deal.  But some simple signs can go a long way...

Here's a link to the story:

 http://news.yahoo.com/blogs/sideshow/suv-airborne-video-140712287.html

Sticky Moments In Trashy Places

Of all the possible places a person can get stuck, this has to be the worst: Wal-Mart restroom.  Thankfully, I've never set foot in one myself, but I have to imagine it rivals Dante's ninth circle of hell.  Spend a few seconds perusing the pictures at peopleofwalmart.com, and you'll see why the confines of the Wal-Mart crapper make death look like a picnic.  The world's filthiest people doing their dirtiest business...does it get more rock bottom than that? 

Earlier this month, a Kentucky woman found herself in just such a situation.  Someone heard a woman screaming for help from the bathroom of a Wal-Mart store in Monticello, Kentucky, only to find her super glued to a toilet seat.  She'd been stuck to the toilet for a full hour, unable to get up.  This was no laughing matter--workers had to call in the paramedics to offer her some "ass"-istance. (Okay, it's definitely a laughing matter).

After another hour working to free the woman from her porcelain captor, the medical crew transported her to the emergency room--seat still stuck to her backside--where they finally freed her once and for all.  The police also joined the party, but aren't yet willing to officially announce whether this was a hilarious accident or a hilarious, intentional prank...since, as you know, super glue accidentally finds its way onto toilet seats all the time.  The only crime here is the fact that the person responsible could actually be charged with a crime!  Instead of a well-earned high-five from the cops, the glue-wielding prankster could face second-degree "ass"-ault charges (seriously, no pun intended, despite the quotes again).

The logical question, of course, is this: why didn't the woman notice glue smeared all over the seat before sitting on the toilet!?  News reports refer to the woman as "unidentified" and no pictures have been released, but since she's a Wal-Mart shopper, there's a high probability that she leans toward the "big boned" end of the 'ol body type spectrum.  In a cramped bathroom stall, given her fleshy carriage and the simple laws of physics, I'm sure it was nearly impossible for her to look down for a seat check.

This theory is supported by the fact that she spent sixty minutes trying to get up before help finally arrived.  At her size, I'm sure getting up is always a struggle--even in the comfort and safety of her own home, standing up might be a half-hour event.  I'm guessing she spent the first fifty-five of minutes of that hour struggling to stand before she realized that there was glue involved.

As great as story as this is, it's not entirely unique...in fact, there's a good chance this was a copy-cat prank.  Back on March 31, a man found himself in the exact same situation, glued to a toilet seat in Maryland.  Any guesses where that prank took place?  Yep, Wal-Mart!  Anyone with half a brain would go to Wal-Mart to pull something like this...executing a prank among Wal-Mart shoppers is like shooting fish in a barrel.  After all, this is Wal-Mart...the place where customers are puzzled by the meaning of the "50/50" label on their tube of lean ground beef.

If I somehow end up glued to a toilet in a Wal-Mart bathroom at some point in my life, I'll chew my own legs off Aron Ralson-style before I spend an hour stuck in there.  Maybe I can wrangle a movie and book deal out of it, too.  I never thought I needed further motivation to avoid Wal-Marts and public restrooms, but here we are.  Enjoy a video and some links to the story:



http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/06/28/woman-gets-super-glued-to_n_1633026.html

http://www.kypost.com/dpps/news/Woman-glued-to-Walmart-toilet-seat-in-Kentucky-police-investigating-_7622463

Come Fly The Deadly Skies

Death on an airplane is certainly not a new topic on this blog. In the March blog post "Super Savers: Mile High Edition," I wrote about two women who snuck the body of a dead relative onto an airplane leaving Germany in an effort to avoid paying repatriation fees on the body.  Here we are a few months later, and the trifecta of Europe, airplanes, and dead bodies resurfaces again.  This death story, however, has a much more uplifting ending.

Version 2.0 of "Death on an Airplane" begins in the Netherlands, where a man was sweating like crazy and experiencing some run-of-the-mill, pre-takeoff seizures. The plane took off anyway, and sure enough...he died.  Some passengers tried to come to the rescue, but attempts to resustitate the man were unsuccessful.  Crew members on the Kenya Airlines flight moved the two other passengers in his row to other seats so they wouldn't have to sit next to the corpse.

You'd think airlines would have some kind of protocol for this type of situation, but the series of events that unfolded suggests that they do not.  Unsure exactly how to handle this unusual predicament, the crew members stretched the dead body across the three seats where the man and his neighbors had been sitting and spread a blanket over him.  The Tanzania-bound flight was quite full, however, so Lena Pettersson, the woman across the aisle, had to remain seated next to the body for the rest of the flight despite her request to move to another part of the plane.

Since this was an international flight, this must have been a big plane with two lavatories.  Why not stuff the body in one of those and land a one-operational-toilet airplane in Tanzania?  Surely the passengers would rather wait a few extra minutes in the bathroom line than travel with a loosely-covered corpse in plain sight...

But this is where the story takes a turn for the positive--any time you hear about an airline compensating a customer for an uncomfortable flight, it's a huge win.  For putting up with the unexpectedly corpsey flight, Kenya Airways reimbursed Pettersson half her ticket price, or roughly $700.  When asked to comment on the ordeal, she said she felt that the compensation was fair.

 Hello cheap airfare!

Recent experience has only reinforced my views from my previous blog post about dead bodies on airplanes.  After spending three hours on a flight full of obnoxious, screaming children when I returned from vacation last week, I would pay good money for a guaranteed spot next to a dead guy on a flight.  To think that someone can actually receive a discounted fare for "enduring" a peaceful flight, free of jockeying for armrest position and getting up to let other people go to the bathroom is unfathomable...I imagine it's how Jesus travels on international flights.

On top of Pettersson's half-off airline ticket, she probably got to eat the dead guy's in-flight snack, too!  Does life--and death, in this case--get any better?  I don't know how many people out there think like me--for the sake of the world, I hope it's a big number--but the airline industry could quickly turn their fortunes around if they find a way to successfully monetize the dead body transportation business.  Like I said before, I'd happily shell out big bucks for a ticket on the winged meat-wagon...

Here's a link to the story:

http://www.webpronews.com/corpse-on-flight-swedish-woman-forced-to-fly-with-dead-guy-2012-06

...Or Maybe It Doesn't

It's rare to find someone who is right as often as I am who is also willing to admit when he's wrong. Around two weeks ago I wrote a post titled Life Does Imitate Art! that told the amazing story of Bill Wisth, a real-life Homer Simpson and heroic consumer rights crusader.  I claimed that his tale provided concrete evidence that, as the title of the post implied, life imitates art.  Here we are a few weeks later, and a recent story is forcing me to admit that I was all wrong--apparently death occasionally imitates art, too.

The source of all of my embarrassment comes down to one simple word: Orville.  That name conjures a wide range of images --some might think of Orville Wright, one of the first-in-flight brothers from North Carolina.  Others might think of the common noun form of the word orville, which refers to the rare but extremely uncomfortable front-wedgie.  And many probably picture an old man with bad teeth and a strange obsession with popcorn when they hear the name Orville:

But I'm not talking about any of those.  My mishap comes from a previously unknown cat named Orville.  Losing a pet is never easy, and people deal with the deaths of their furry little friends in different ways.  Some of the more traditional options include cremation, pet cemeteries, or in the case of pet fish, a dignified burial at sea by route of toilet.  A Dutch man named Bart Jansen chose a less traditional path toward honoring the loss of his cat Orville, who fell victim to the wheels of a passing car.

After Orville's journey to that majestic litter box in the sky, Jansen bought himself some thinking time by preserving his beloved cat in the freezer, Ted Williams style.  After six months, Jansen made up his mind and took Orville out of the freezer and directly to a taxidermist.  But he didn't merely have Orville stuffed; after preserving his little friend, he also outfitted the corpse with propellers for paws and a small engine in his body. Just like that, Orvillecopter was born:

Best of all, Orvillecopter is fully functional and able to fly with the birds--an accomplishment, Jansen claims, is "the greatest goal a cat could ever reach!"  Animal rights groups had a field day with Orvillecopter when Jansen posted a video of the inaugural flight on Youtube:



Jansen, an artist, added fuel to the fires of criticism when he displayed Orvillecopter at a recent Amsterdam art festival called KunstRai Art Fair.  Animal protesters covered the outside of the convention center with anti-Orville graffiti, and an animal rights-based political party (believe it or not, there is a political party based on an animal rights platform in the Netherlands) vowed to send letters of disapproval to the convention center and the art fair organizers.

Personally, I don't understand the fuss.  Robocop was a wildly popular movie in the late 1980s, and the hero of the film was a murdered police officer who was brought back to life as a half-man, half-machine crime-fighter.  If Jansen uses Orvillecopter's powers for the betterment of society, this is nothing more than a low-budget, real-life version of a sci-fi classic!  I may have only been three years old when Robocop hit the theaters, but I don't seem to recall human rights activists--or local policemen--picketing theaters at the time.

The only downside to the story is that I'm forced to eat my words.  To say that death imitates art is a major understatement in this case; here, death is art.  It takes a big man to admit when he's wrong, and wrong I was.  Let's just hope the idiots at PETA can admit they were off-base in their outrage and get to working on actual animal rights violations.  I don't find Orvillecopter the least bit disrespectful to animals.  When my time comes, I would consider it a great honor to be outfitted with an engine and propellers and start flying the friendly skies.

Here's a link to Orville's amazing story:

http://www.latimes.com/business/technology/la-fi-tn-stuffed-coptercat-sparks-global-outrage-20120605,0,6797956.story

A Quick Study Of The Study Study

It's been said that you can prove anything with statistics--68% of the population knows that. The same can also be said for government studies.  Every time you turn on the news, you're seconds away from hearing a story beginning with the sentence, "A government study shows that..."  With the massive national debt and general economic chaos around the world, spending money on all these studies seems like a terrible idea.

Worse yet, the sheer quantity and inconsistency of these studies means that they're constantly contradicting other studies.  One week, dark chocolate is health food; the next, it's the leading cause of obesity in children.  Red wine, consumed in moderation, may help prevent heart disease.  Red wine, in any quantity, contributes to cancer.  Global warming is the single greatest threat to the existence of mankind...or it might be pure fiction, invented by left-wing hippies.  If you tried to follow the advice in all these studies, your head would explode...or, according to a different study, it might implode...

 Good, evil, or both?

Apparently someone in the government decided enough was enough, and it was time to cut back on this type of reckless government spending.  The problem was, no one could quantify the number of studies that had been commissioned or their true cost.  So former Secretary of Defense Robert Gates ordered the Pentagon to take action.  The result was a study, the focus of which was past Pentagon studies.  (It's rumored that the person who cam up with this idea once tried to eat his way out of a weight problem).

 Needs more studying...

Once the Pentagon competed the study of its studies, Congress decided to study that study, and it encouraged the U.S. General Accountability Office to study the study as well.  The GAO produced a 32-page report on its study of the Pentagon study (you can find it here), which found that the Pentagon's study only covered nine of its past studies, which cost roughly $3 million in total.

The whole reason the study-spiral started was to gain a better understanding of the cost of all these studies, yet the GAO failed to report how much it cost the Pentagon to produce it's multi-year meta-study.  If this is getting confusing, that's understandable.  To put this in finance terms, if you tried to map this all out in Excel, you'd get a big circular reference.  I could go on, but I'm getting a headache just thinking about it.  I learned everything I needed to know on this subject in elementary school: studying is always bad. Period.  End of story.

Here's a video clip with the hilarious news coverage of the study study:



As a taxpayer, if you were cringing as you read this and watched the video clip, don't hit the panic button just yet.  The Pentagon agreed with portions of the GAO's study and publicly stated that it will work to improve its processes.  With this type of convincing rhetoric, it's clear this whole national debt thing should be cleared up in a few weeks.  If you're still worrying, well...get over it, and quick--according to a government study, stress is a leading cause of depression.  Just sit back and smile at the number of times I've managed to use some form of the word "study" in this blog post.

If you're not annoyed yet, here are some links to the stories:

http://www.myfoxtampabay.com/story/18388338/pentagon-orders-study-to-study-whether-it-does-too-many-studies

http://abcnews.go.com/blogs/politics/2012/05/this-is-not-a-joke-government-issues-study-of-a-study-about-studies/

Life Lessons At The Ballpark

In any given Major League Baseball game, dozens of fans league the stadium with souvenir foul balls or home run balls.  But rarely does lazy foul to the first baseman cause as much controversy as one did in an April 26th Yankees/Rangers game in Arlington.  Mitch Moreland, the Rangers first baseman, tossed a foul ball into the stands, unexpectedly sparking a debate that wound up all over the internet and on The Today Show.

When Moreland tossed the ball into the stands it hit the ground, and an older guy and his fiancee ended up with it.  Sitting next to the couple was a three year-old who immediately started crying out of disappointment.  The camera zoomed in on the lucky couple who got the ball, and the man's fiancee posed with her trophy as he snapped her picture with his phone, the toddler still shrieking behind him.  To the untrained eye, it appeared as though the couple was flaunting their victory right in front of their little selfish nemesis. I can't put my finger on it, but there's something I really like about this couple...

The Yankees announcer very publicly expressed his wildly unjustified disgust as soon as he saw the cranky toddler: "Oh my god, they can't give it to the kid?  That's awful!"  Then later, as the couple snapped their photos with the ball, "Wow, they're actually, like, rubbing it in the kid's face!"  Did I mention I really like this couple?

Personally, I hold a more traditional--and less generous--view when it comes to ballpark etiquette.  When a ball goes into the stands, it's every man, woman, and child for themselves.  That couple would have been perfectly justified in giving that toddler a stiff-arm to the face or using him as a human stepping stool if it gave them a potential advantage in snagging that foul ball.

The video coverage of the foul ball incident hit the internet and went viral, setting off a massive debate on proper baseball etiquette.  The couple who walked away from the fray with the ball plead innocent, claiming they didn't notice the screaming monster in the next seat.  (If you watch the video below, they do appear oblivious...and I'd love to know their secret for blocking out annoying children.)  They rightfully claimed that Yankees announcer Michael Kay owed them an apology for berating them on the air for the last few innings of the game.  And, for the record, the couple even offered the ball to the kid after they realized what had happened.

Before I'd read all the articles and watched the video clips, I assumed the parents of this annoying child were crying foul that the couple didn't hand over the foul to the crying child.  But it turns out that they actually handled this quite well, saying that no apology was necessary and that not getting the ball was a good life lesson for their young son.  I must say, I was pleasantly surprised--weaker, stupider parents could have easily taught their kid that crying will immediately get him whatever he wants.

So the story has a happy ending, right?  Selfish toddler's world is crushed, but he learns an important life lesson in the process and becomes a better person because of it.  If only the story ended here...instead, others had to step in and destroy an otherwise perfectly good act of parenting.

A few minutes after the kid was denied the foul ball, someone in the Rangers dugout tossed him a different baseball to help calm him down.  Then, in the media circus that ensued, the kid earned appearances not only on the local news in Texas, but national coverage on The Today Show.  So long, valuable life lesson; hello, undeserved sense of entitlement.  Thanks to someone in the Rangers and all the newscasters, not only has the kid learned that crying will get him things that he doesn't deserve, but he'll also get national media attention in the process.  What's the world coming to?

Here's a clip of the local news coverage in Dallas:




And here's a clip to the segment from The Today Show, which provides an excellent example of how loud and obnoxious this kid is.  To offset the missed opportunity to learn that valuable life lesson, let's collectively hope that this kid spends the rest of his childhood being denied everything he wants.




And here are some links to the story:
http://sports.yahoo.com/blogs/mlb-big-league-stew/rangers-couple-tells-side-story-wants-apology-michael-033155855.html

http://www.wfaa.com/sports/Young-Rangers-fan-tears-spurs-viral-debate-over-tossed-ball-149090785.html

http://video.today.msnbc.msn.com/today/47202820#47202820

Life Does Imitate Art!

I've obtained official, irrefutable evidence that life does, in fact, imitate art.  In this case, it took decades for this to reveal itself, but that doesn't make the story any less impactful.  On Thursday, November 12, 1992, the eighth episode of the fourth season of The Simpsons aired on Fox.  It was a classic episode--this was back when The Simpsons was in its comedy prime, many years before it's sad demise into mediocrity.  So for those of you who have forgotten the details of this episode, shame on you; I'll give you a recap of one of the episode's intriguing sub-plots.

Homer sees a commercial for an all-you-can-eat seafood special at The Frying Dutchman that's too good to pass up.  When he and Marge go to the restaurant, Homer immediately grabs a steam tray off the buffet line, cleans out the restaurant's shrimp supply, and polishes off two plastic lobsters along the way.  When closing time arrives at The Frying Dutchman, Homer hasn't shown any signs of slowing down, and the staff has to drag him out of restaurant--twice--to finally cut him off.

Infuriated by the premature ending to his all-you-can-eat meal, Homer hires a lawyer and sues the restaurant.  During the trial, it's revealed that after getting dragged out of The Frying Dutchman, Homer drove around Springfield searching for another seafood restaurant, then went fishing when he couldn't find one that was open.  In the words of Lionel Hutz, his attorney, "Do these sound like the actions of a man who had had all he could eat?!"  It's a storyline that's too absurd to happen anywhere other than a TV show--a cartoon TV show, to be more precise.  Or is it...?

Nearly two decades after that episode aired, a eerily similar story played out in Theinsville, Wisconsin.  The real-life Homer Simpson is 350-pound man named Bill Wisth, and a restaurant called Chuck's Place plays the role of The Frying Dutchman in this charade.  Like Homer, Bill decided to take advantage of an all-you-can-eat seafood deal--a Friday night, all-you-can-eat fish fry at Chuck's Place.

After Bill had downed twelve fish, Chuck's place was running out of the designated variety of fish that they were offering in the all-you-can fry and tried to cut him off.  The staff offered their large, angry customer eight additional pieces of a more expensive variety of fish for the inconvenience of the abrupt ending to his feast.  But even with twelve pieces of fish in his stomach and another eight in his pocket, Bill hadn't had "all he could eat," and he wanted to make sure the world knew it.

Bill called the police and filed an official complaint and now spends every Sunday picketing in front of Chuck's Place with a homemade sign reading "Poor Business Practices!"  Wisth vows that he will continue picketing until Chuck's Place finally makes good on its promise to give him "all he can eat."  As he puts it, "I think that people have to stand up for consumers."

The news coverage of the incident is priceless.  Be sure to take note of the quality workmanship on Wisth's sign, which appears to be little more than a torn-up box with a message written pencil, which is unreadable from a distance of more than five feet.  And the reporter can hardly conceal her disgust for Wisth's personal crusade.



I can only hope that you were able to draw a fair, level-headed conclusion about this situation.  With Bill Wisth's charming, charismatic speeches, it's far too easy to hear the details of this story and immediately applaud Wisth as a brave crusader for the everyday consumer.  He's willing to spend his valuable Sunday free time standing up for the common man, to the detriment of his personal fortune.

I'm sure Wisth would rather spend those hours working for a living so the that he could pay down that "running account" he has at Chuck's Place, but he's answering a higher higher calling in life.  It feel like I'm watching a white, modern day Martin Luther King Jr.  Someday, textbooks will reference the "We asked for more fish, and they refused to give us any more fish" speech the same way kids today learn about King's "I Have A Dream" speech.

There's no simple solution to the standoff between Wisth and Chuck's Place.  On the one hand, he's an alleged "problem" customer with an unpaid tab who violated the sacred rule of "all-you-can-eat" deals by sharing food with a non-paying customer.  On the other hand, you have a large, slow-witted man who was promised all he could eat, but who clearly did not get all he could eat.  Petty customer?  False advertising?  This could take years to snake its way through the courts.

But things don't have to be so complicated.  Since this story has already so freakishly followed the plot of The Simpsons, we only have to return to that classic episode for the answer.  In the end, Homer and the The Frying Dutchman worked out a perfect compromise: Homer was allowed to eat all he wanted in front of a large window, and allowed The Frying Dutchman got to use him as a freak-show attraction known as "Bottomless Pete, Nature's Cruelest Mistake."

If Chuck's Place is willing to part with some generous portions of fish, and if Bill Wisth is willing to part with a little more dignity, I think we have ourselves a classic win-win situation.  It's all going to come down to Chuck's willingness to compromise, because based on what I've seen in the news coverage, Wisth isn't exactly thrifty when it comes to shelling out the dignity.

Note: YouTube has an excellent movie trailer parody clip of the story and news coverage--click here to check it out, it's worth a look.

Here are some links with more coverage of the story:
http://news.yahoo.com/blogs/sideshow/stay-hungry-wisconsin-man-picketing-eat-restaurant-164108552.html

http://www.620wtmj.com/news/local/151468665.html

A Cosby Catastrophe

Leave it to Iowa to produce a weird and ironic story like this.  For once, this Iowa story doesn't involve corn or dangerous run-ins with raccoons!  Last Tuesday, dark smoke billowed from a semi trailer on the southbound shoulder of I-35, not far from Huxley, Iowa:

What could create an apocalyptic scene like this? A burning oil tanker? Some kind of strange corn-related emergency that one could only hope to find in Iowa?  No and no...and I already said this story had nothing to do with corn.  That burning mess is a trailer full of Jell-O pudding cups!  The cause of this mysterious pudding fire is still unknown, but the driver was able to escape unscathed after detaching the truck's cab from the trailer after noticing the flames.

I'm deeply disturbed by the color of the smoke emanating from the pudding fire...let's hope those are chocolate fumes.  But with all the freaky artificial ingredients it must take to give Jell-O pudding it's unnaturally smooth texture, it's a wonder the whole trailer didn't go off like an atomic bomb when the first cup ignited.  Huxley firefighters were able to reign in the flames and put out the fire, but not before they were forced to turn the fire hoses on a group of unruly fat children who were willing to risk third-degree burns to get their hands on a mountain of free pudding cups.

My own mother was affected by The Great Iowa Pudding Fire of 2012.  As firefighters battled the blaze, she was headed southbound in a bus full of high school students returning from a field trip. The combination of afternoon rush hour and the pudding fire placed her bus squarely in the middle of a traffic jam, perhaps the first pudding-related traffic jam in the history of the world.  Luckily, this was an Iowa traffic jam, which means that the pudding fire caused a five-car backup in the fast lane.  Fortunately, her bus was only thirty seconds late returning to the school.

I haven't had a chance to talk to Mom since the pudding incident, but I only hope that she did the right thing and encouraged the bus driver to pull over so she could offer her assistance to the pudding cups. I secretly hope that she returned to the scene later with that big truck of hers to haul the remains of the trailer back home...I expect a pantry full of survivors next time I'm home in Iowa.

 Perfectly capable of hauling a trailer of pudding...

The pudding scene looked bad to begin with, but it must have been an absolute nightmare for one man in particular.  For Bill Cosby, I imagine watching the news on Tuesday night and seeing all those pudding cups burning was like witnessing thousands of little family members perishing in a roadside fire.  The scene was probably as frightening to him as being slapped with that sexual harassment lawsuit back in 2006.

I first heard about the pudding fire when Mom sent me a link, and after reading it, I noticed that the comments section was packed with all kinds of Bill Cosby jokes.  One comment mentioned something about Cosby being in Iowa the day of the fire, which I assumed was just someone kidding around.  But, as it turns out, Bill Cosby actually was in Des Moines the afternoon of the fire, speaking at something called the "Get Motivated Seminar."  How's that for an ironic coincidence?  Officials don't suspect foul play, but the fire makes a person wonder if Cosby's Jello-O promotion contract with Kraft didn't end on the best of terms...

http://www.kcci.com/news/central-iowa/Pudding-cups-pour-out-of-semi-on-fire/
 
P.S.: Mom, thanks for sending the link to this story!  You inspired me to write this  post, and with Mother's Day fast approaching, this is my early gift to you.  Feel free to print as many copies as you'd like!

Love The Skin You're In

That title of this post sounds strangely familiar...I think I stole the slogan from a cosmetics campaign.  But it couldn't be more relevant with some of the crazies who are making headlines lately.  By now, you've undoubtedly heard about Patricia Krentcil, the insane tanning woman from New Jersey who faces child endangerment charges after putting her ghostly-pale five year-old daughter in a tanning booth.

This scaly specimen has received far more attention than she deserves, serving as an endless fountain of jokes for late night talk show hosts and Saturday Night Live skits alike.  But Krentcil insists that she's a fantastic mother and recently responded to the constant criticism by claiming that those who insult her are fat, ugly, and jealous.

Almost as annoying as tanning lady herself are the constant stream of news programs that deem it worthwhile to bring in psychology experts to analyze her behavior.  I barely watch the news, and I'm already sick of hearing the word "tanorexia." What is it with people inventing words for imaginary problems that rhyme with actual medical conditions?

As far as I can tell, an addiction to tanning has nothing to do with an eating disorder.  The fact that experts can make the words rhyme isn't particularly impressive or witting.  The same goes for the word workaholic--what does a drinking problem have to do with being overworked?!  But I digress...my point is that it doesn't take a PhD in psychology to determine that Patricia Krentcil has plenty of problems upstairs.  A half-second glance at her photo takes care of that:

If the pictures somehow haven't convinced you, consider this:  Snooki, the orange Smurf from Jersey Shore, recently weighed in with her expert opinion on the child endangerment trial, referring to Krentcil as a "crazy *&@$%."  Equally incriminating is the fact that a number of New Jersey tanning salons are refusing service to Krentcil, posting pictures of her and telling employees to turn her away.  That's when you know you have a problem..."whoa, I think you've had enough!" is a phrase typically reserved for bartenders cutting off drunk and unruly customers, not tanning salon owners.

I don't have a PhD in psychology, but I think that Patricia Krentcil just needs to focus on something other than her appearance.  I have no idea if this woman is married or single (I'm guessing single, unless she found someone with an alligator fetish), but I think some love and appreciation might help her kick her tanning habit.  And I have just the perfect match for her: Sammy Sosa.

I doubt that Sammy and Patricia have ever met, but they already have something in common: Sosa was a famous baseball player, and Krentcil has a face like a worn out catcher's mitt.  Plus, any successful relationship requires a healthy dose of compromise, and these two are a match made in heaven when it comes to meeting in the middle.  Take a look at this before and after picture of Sosa, comparing his appearance during his baseball days (right) to his more recent look (left):

Perhaps the two can bond over their mutual envy of the other's skin color.  Sosa seems to be pursuing the Michael Jackson look (he credits his color on a new moisturizer he's been using), while Krentcil is trying to turn herself into a piece of human charcoal.  If opposites attract, there's no better pair than a pale black man and a freakishly bronze white woman.  Yin, meet yang.  The future may hold a lot of promise for these two, but I still think the world would be a simpler and less crazy place if they could just love the skin they're in...

Parenting Effort Of The Week

With today's blog post, I'd like to shower praise on two fun-loving parents and publicly express my distaste for all those overly cautious people out there who interfere with perfectly good parenting tactics.  Earlier this week a Ft. Wayne, Indiana couple was arrested after driving with four children on the hood of their car.  It's easy to pass judgment on the 29 year-old parents if you haven't heard all of the details.

Let's face it, sometimes you want to get in your car, enjoy a stiff drink, and drive home from the liquor store in peace, free of the shrill cries of annoying children.  The parents, Aaron Stefanski and Jessica Clark, were not only justified in their actions, but also highly responsible.  They didn't just drive off with the kids holding on for dear life--before leaving the parking lot at Ft. Wayne's classy Belmont Beverage, they strapped their four kids, ages four, five, six, and seven, down to the hood (apparently they're pumping out children on a regular schedule).  And this was no cruel punishment--the kids willingly signed up for the car-top adventure, saying that they thought it sounded like fun.

Unfortunately, some nosy, overbearing jerk had to come along and ruined the fun for everyone.  After somebody called 911, the police arrived and put an end to the joyride.  Believe it or not, instead of a good laugh and a of round high-fives, the cops arrested the parents!  I'll concede that Stefanski's three counts of operating while intoxicated were probably justified, given his .17 blood-alcohol level...after all, he could have really hurt another driver with his drunkenness.  But the fact that both parents were charged with one count of child neglect is absolutely unfathomable.

What's the world coming to?  One of our country's aspiring presidential nominees openly admitted to strapping the family dog to the roof of his station wagon in an airtight crate when driving cross-country on family vacations. (Let's hope he misspoke when he chose the word airtight.)  His only regret was the annoyance of having to pull over when the dog's diarrhea leaked from the crate and began to run down the sides of the car.

There was some public backlash, including countless websites devoted to the story, but not enough to stop Mitt Romney from emerging as the Republican front-runner.  And here he was, admitting shady treatment of man's best friend.  Have you ever heard a child referred to as man's best friend?  Absolutely not.  And once again, let's keep in mind that the Ft. Wayne foursome agreed to their wild ride, whereas a dog can't say no if he doesn't want any part of a rooftop adventure.

Clearly, there's an important lesson here for all of us.  I don't have any children myself, thank god, but for all the parents in the world, I tell you this: there's nothing wrong with wanting a little quiet time for yourself in the car, away from the kids.  But clearly the cops think it's unacceptable to plop the kids on the roof, strap or no strap.  The key is to keep the prying eyes of strangers off your rooftop passengers, so a car carrier is a great option.  If you can afford it, a durable plastic model is stylish and practical:

If you don't want to invest that much money in your kids, that's perfectly understandable.  You can assemble a slightly cheaper--though less aerodynamic--version of the rooftop carrier with readily available materials:

The police may never understand, but don't let that stop you from following your natural parental instincts.  Moms and dads know best, and it's not the rest of the world's job to interfere with some perfectly good child rearin'.  Here's a clip of the news coverage, along with some links to the full story:

http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-504083_162-57430456-504083/four-kids-rescued-from-hood-of-moving-car-fort-wayne-police-say/
 
http://www.wane.com/dpp/news/local/Children-strapped-to-the-hood-of-a-car