I had to look up the Roman numeral for 40. Rat Fink, Rat Fink. What a donkey.

Random Neuron Firings

I stumbled across an amazing video this morning, featuring scientist and author Arthur C. Clarke. Did he have it nailed or what?

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Whaddya think about that, BoomR?! He described parts of your job to a T. Incredible.

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I can’t believe it’s been three years already. Luciano Pavarotti died on this day in 2007, from pancreatic cancer. Caruso is considered by many to be the greatest (I’ve heard many recordings from the early 1900s, and he was brilliant for his day), but this is the voice that beats them all, IMO. Pavarotti and Beverly Sills, circa 1976…invincible.

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Mad Men was outstanding last night. One of the best I’ve seen. Did anyone else watch it?

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Speaking of amazing:  Jerry Lewis is still tirelessly campaigning for “his kids” via his Labor Day telethon, 45 years after debuting the first all-nighter to benefit muscular dystrophy. Awesome indeed.

I think this is a good day to relax, meet Mavis for brunch, see Jake and Justin for a bit, and put in a few hours at school. Vita est bona.

FO

Nuts. I slept in until 7:00 this morning. Now I’m two hours behind schedule.

If I finish in time today, I might get to have Justin and Jake for the night tonight. But truthfully, it’s not looking good for the home team.

Well now, enough complaining. How are you this day? If you’re reading this in America, hopefully you’re enjoying a holiday weekend. Is anyone out there using Labor day to labor? I am, and actually I don’t mind it. I like having the time to get things done, and as you know, one extra day tacked onto a weekend can make a lot of difference.

This past week has been interesting. Lots of friends going through big life changes: buying a home, changing a relationship status, and one friend in particular making a huge identity change. For the most part, a change will do you good. So says Sheryl Crow.

I wonder how many people know what Labor Day really is. I myself learnt a couple of facts this morning. I knew this:

Labor Day, the first Monday in September, is a creation of the labor movement and is dedicated to the social and economic achievements of American workers. It constitutes a yearly national tribute to the contributions workers have made to the strength, prosperity, and well-being of our country. —United States DOL website

I didn’t know, however, the backstory of the “Rosie the Riveter” campaign, launched by the Department of Labor during World War II. Apparently, the iconic image of Rosie the Riveter we’ve come to know — a woman wearing a red and white polka-dot do-rag, flexing her bicep — was not the original image. Rather, “Rosie” was first drawn by Norman Rockwell for a Memorial Day issue of the Saturday Evening Post, and the picture was a bit less PC:

The image depicts a muscular woman wearing overalls, goggles and pins of honor on her lapel. She sports a leather wrist band and rolled-up sleeves. She sits with a riveting tool in her lap, eating a sandwich, and “Rosie” is inscribed on her lunch pail. And, she’s stepping on a copy of Adolph Hitler’s book Mein Kampf.

Now there’s an iconic image for ya. Did you know this? I did not. You can read the article here.

And now you go have yourself a good day. I have some dancing to do.

This morning I read a story about someone playing at the beach with her family, and getting buried in the sand up to her neck.

That would push me right over the edge. Actually, lots of things make me ooky. Hmm.

Phink Phobias

1. This thing, of course
2. Having anything over my face, or someone covering my head with a blanket or pillow
3. Stepping in a hole and snapping my ankle (again)
4. Heights
5. Snakes

Now, this doesn’t mean I lapse into massive apoplexy or run about screaming when I encounter the above (I mean, I will fly if I absolutely have to, and I’ve ridden lots of roller coasters and that Power Tower thing at Cedar Point), but I certainly don’t enjoy experiencing any of the five. Feh, there are probably more I could add to the list.

Wait — I retract the apoplexy statement. #2 will send me into flippin’ orbit. I will take you out if you try it. And your family and your cat, too.

What makes you jittery, uncomfortable or even terrified? I covet your lists.

Is it finally Finkday? Yay!!

I like the Time newsfeed. Today’s menu:

1. Restaurant Gets Negative Review Before it Even Opens
2. My students would love this. Thing is, they’d have to be the ones to teach the class.
3. Oh dear. This reminds me of the Thriller’s inexplicable attraction to ridiculous ghostie shows. In fact, credit them in large part with the creation of the Boot to the Head category.
4. This is your absolutely no way! article for the day.
5. Note to self for next choir tour:  Choose Diet Pepsi instead.
6. Roger Federer is awesome. And so is the opening line of this article, admittedly. HA

And that’s all I had time to read this morning. Now it’s off to the school house, where life is beautiful all the time, and I’ll be happy to see those nice young men in their clean, white coats.

Disclaimer: I am neither a PETA enthusiast nor a Ted Nugent drone. I eat meat, and have done so all my life. I have been to a slaughterhouse and seen how cows are euthanized. And let me tell you, I’d prefer death by a quick shot to the brain to living the life of an egg chicken. The recent discoveries linked with the salmonella outbreak have once again brought to the forefront the horrifying cruelty of people who view animals as only the bottom line. So goes the demise of a real hen house where chickens lay eggs, scratch dirt, peck at feed, walk around and cluck, and sleep in a comfy nest. We can’t produce a half a million eggs a day like that, now can we?

Without opening up a huge, protracted discussion on food ethics or government policy (because, as I am wont to say, harsh words are often spoken with no minds being changed), something must be done about the deplorable conditions surrounding egg production in this country. Why are these egg “farms” even allowed to exist? They should be closed down for the simple reason that it is unconscionable to put an animal in an eight-and-a-half by eleven-inch space and never allow it to move.

If someone did this to a dog or cat, he would be fined and perhaps jailed. But the torture of these poor hens is allowed to go on with impunity. (I won’t provide links to the hidden-camera revelations — it’s too sickening.)  Makes about as much sense as television commercials showing almost-naked women in Victoria’s Secret commercials, but never showing a single person take a drink in a beer ad. Ridiculous and stupid.

It’s likely useless to argue the point, and I know there are thousands of atrocities (against animals AND humans) being perpetrated every day. Choose your cause, and there’ll be evidence to support you. I’m just zeroing in on this particular travesty this day. It’s a shameful testimony to the greed for which our country and its industries are becoming infamous. Blah.

Fink, having fruit and yogurt for breakfast