Another gem invades my email inbox.  As a modern male not afraid to get in touch with his feminine side, I made time to read this article.  What I discovered were brilliant lessons in slumber-ology for everyone; you, me and they who are seeking a better night’s sleep, with or without hot flashes.
Spoiler Alert: Implementing the five simple but effective practices below will result in better sleep as soon as tonight.  Get ready to have your mind blown and your eyes closed!

• Have a warm shower to dilate the skin, which will facilitate heat loss and in turn cool down your core.
• Journal or write down anything that you need to stop circulating in your brain.
• Read something relaxing.
• Meditate or do yoga to anchor the mind and calm your breathing. 
• You also need to dim the lights well before bed.

Alternatively, inherit a large sum of money, quit your job and move to a more temperate climate.  Both work.

For those of you rare human beings that see a person for what they are on the inside and don’t define people by their ethnicity, sexuality, looks or body hair and are open and caring enough to overlook the societal difficulties created by dating out of your species, in this instance a werewolf, I offer these full moon suggestions:

• Forego the romantic moonlight dinner in favor of an afternoon tea.
• If this is the 3rd to 5th date where you are considering rounding 3rd base and heading for home perhaps contract a 24 hour flu and postpone.
• If the two of you are already in a more intimate relationship or this is your first date but met your partner via Tinder, suggest a cup of coffee and scone for a breakfast date at Starbucks, explaining to your canis lupus friend you have to go to Kansas to attend Auntie Em’s birthday party and will call when the moon is in its waning gibbous phase.

Think about it.  If a werewolf asks you out for a date on the night of a full moon, my guess is he’s really not that into you, at least not in the way you think!

In 1927, an era where naivety was considered a virtue, Buddy DeSylva and Lew Brown wrote these lyrics and they might have rung true. Then.
Today viewing the moon is still free.  But any other of the best things in life like a quality education, access to affordable healthcare and a slightly more equitable distribution of wealth,  hopefully just enough to see that all our children have enough to eat…well, I guess that’s just crazy talk!

Is it possible to give less of a rat’s-ass about anything as stupid as crypto-currency losing half its value?
Oh yeah it is possible, I forgot about the Kardashians.

In 1922 Robert Frost surreptitiously confessed to a crime that rocked the literary world to such an extent that the ramifications are still widely debated within the ivy covered walls of today’s most revered liberal arts universities**  Disguised as a masterful example of the beauty of the written word, Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, the poem that Frost himself  called  “My best bid for remembrance,”  should be required reading for everyone.***  In the confession Frost admits he is trespassing but, having previously staked out the area, knows he can commit the crime undetected based on the fact the property owner maintains his primary residence in the Village some miles away.  Ignoring the foreboding bell shake of his equine companion, Frost did with intent and, some would argue malice aforethought, gaze at the magnificence of the ethereal tableau.
We are all familiar with the question “If a tree falls in the forest and no one hears it does it make a sound?” This begs the debate starting question “if a victimless crime is committed in the forest and nobody sees it, was a crime actually committed?  Frost created a work of art that is also an unsolvable conundrum inflicting on us countless nights of agonizing reflection and lost sleep.

The literary and legal controversy rages on in classrooms and moot courts the world over.  The intellectual arguments will continue long after we are gone.  And, as Robert Frost predicted, so will the Poem. 

__________________________________________________________________________________
**Known to trumpers only as seething beds of radical-right socialism where students dangerously learn to think on their own.
*** If  you are a trumper have someone read it to you and don’t get in a homophobic frenzy when you hear the word “queer.” In this case it is a synonym for odd or unusual.  OMG do I have to explain synonym to you as well?

Words of Wisdom from the boss, Mr. Misrell, to his unhappy employee Gart Williams.  After calling Misrell “Fatboy,” quitting his job and pouring down a bottle of Maalox to sooth his ulcerated stomach, Gart boarded the commuter train home to deliver the news to his shrewish demon of a wife.  Fortunately for Gart the train made an unscheduled stop at Willoughby, a small town suspended in the 1890s, where the conductor assured him “a man can live his life full measure.”  Taking a deep breath Gart exited the train and immediately transformed into a local resident, accepting an invitation from two young boys (still acceptable behavior in those days) to go fishing the next day.  Gart Williams had entered Paradise; or so he thought.

While at first, dumping his job and wife was wonderful, reality soon hit him like a frozen snowbank when jumping off a speeding train.  There was no air conditioning and Willoughby was hot as…well, you know; indoor plumbing was a luxury that had not yet reached the rural areas, KKK membership was mandatory and the politicians so corrupt an observer might mistake it for this year.

We’ve talked about A-Hole bosses before.  Stay on the train, suck it up, and move on!

Norton 360 with Lifelock selflessly sent me an email this morning warning of the perils of the Internet. I wanted to pass it along and let you know they are offering a 30% discount on your first year of protection, (How do they make a profit at that price?).
Anyway, these good people have blown the lid off cybersecurity with this tip: “Do not accept friend requests from strangers!” BRILLIANT!
Just yesterday I was on my way to the bank to deposit $5,000 into the account of a Nigerian Prince so that he could send me $5 Million when a stranger I met on-line surprised me and asked me to get into his van (I loved his darkly tinted windows).  To repay his kindness I shared the tip with him.  He astutely pointed out that if I had not accepted a stranger’s friend request we would not have met.  In gratitude I cut him in on the Nigerian Prince deal. He was so appreciative he let me out unharmed on a desolate road in the mountains.

 The tip has kept me safe already! Pass it on!  

Don’t Worry, all is good…NOW.
I woke yesterday morning and something was definitely wrong.  I felt off; blah. That’s all I could think: Blah, blah, blah.

Stomach, head, feet, skin, all blah.  Food tasted blah, toothpaste not its normal minty self, coffee might as well have been tepid water, BLAH!  Fortunately the doctor on duty happened to be a geriatric specialist and had seen this many times before.  He placed an empathetic hand on my shoulder and said. “I’m not going to insult you by beating around the bush. I’ll give it to you straight. You have a persistent and protracted case of “the blahs.” Fortunately it’s treatable and I think we can knock it out in one day.  I am writing you a prescription and giving you detailed after-visit instructions.  Follow them to the letter.  Cancel any plans as you will not be able to leave the house or operate heavy equipment.”

I stopped at the drug store to fill the prescription: a six-pack of juice boxes and gallon of chocolate ice cream.  The, as instructed, I spent the entire day watching the SpongeBob SquarePants Marathon on Nickelodeon.

This Morning, Life is Beautiful again!

They were an unusual pair in that Big Banana was so much larger than his work-mate, Little Banana.
They ordered two Yuppie Daiquiris and talked:
Little Banana:  It must be great to be you, so big and firm.  Did you get that way by working out?
Big Banana:      No, just the luck of the draw.  Why are you so hung up on size? It doesn’t matter.  It’s about how sweet and firm you are.
Little Banana:  Easy for you to say.  You drive a Prius and do great.  I had to compensate for my size by leasing an expensive sports car I can’t afford.
Big Banana:    Being a Big Banana has its downside, try to find a comfortable pair of jeans and more annoying, whenever I run into anyone, they automatically think I’m glad to see them. 
Little Banana:  All the same I’d rather have your problems than mine.
Big Banana:  Look at it this way.  Your problem is minor compared to that guy. 
He looks across the bar as Big Banana points to the pair sitting at a table in the far corner.  Little Banana nods his head in understanding as he watches the Foot-long consoling his friend, the Cocktail Weenie.