Technology run amok

Mr. Hall shook his head wearily, convinced the Apocalypse is near. "When the republicans get in bed, so to speak , (Mrs. H. raised an eyebrow...), with the Same-sex marriage groups- Senator Craig notwithstanding; it must indeed be a sign we are surely looking at the End of Days. "There, there, dear", soothed Mrs. Hall- "Read your newspaper, while there is still one to be read, and calm yourself. " But garnering the daily reports is no longer the calming experience it once was...

A Hit and a Miss
With the advent of broadband to the hall, Mr. H. is now finally expanding, however tentatively, further into the world of tweets, woots and blogs. The mysteries of You tube no longer elude him (previously only visited sporadically, when the download times were short, by links sent to him from old pilot friends); and when spontaneously quizzed, as sometimes happens when he is working with associates from another generation, can answer with a modicum of confidence and almost a straight face. He is still mystified by the fact that a dowdy spinster from Scotland can garner several million views; (“Why would anyone want to watch it again- Lord knows the network news plays it ad infinitum already?”) and be considered a hit, and a candidate for a beauty pageant can lose her shot at a title for speaking her mind, and be vilified, in countless forums, by so many who speak as if they have no mind at all. “Surely, this is a strange, new world we live in.” said Mr. H. to Mrs. H.; who nodded in what he took as agreement, though she was listening through her earphones to her iPod.


Frankenfood

While driving the big black car into town last week, Mr. and Mrs. H indulged in their usual whim of listening to WRVO Radio. They usually play along with "Says You!" and "Wait,wait- Don't Tell Me!", but this fine morning the newscasters were giddily reporting on new experiments with treating vegetable for bacteria. Ever diligent in their research to find yet another way ferret out the offending germ, scientists have taken to electroshocking lettuce. "Shrink-wrapped, radiated and now shocked! Sounds like what some Hollywood starlets were doing currently to reduce", said Mr. H.; but the announcer went on to say that while the bacteria counts were down, an unfortunate byproduct was that the process bleached the lettuce white! "That's fine by me", said Mrs. H. "I'm plenty green already from just hearing about it."

And this from the trade papers:

Bohemian National Cemetery has built a red brick replica of the wall at Wrigley's center field where deceased fans o f the Cubs may be interred until Doomsday or the next time the team win the World Series. Whichever comes first. Construction has begun on "Beyond the Vines", the ultimate in final resting places for die-hard Cubs fans. The Beyond the Vines memorial wall is 35 feet long and 14 feet tall, located in Bohemian National Cemetery, at Foster and Pulaski. It's designed to look like Wrigley Field's center field wall, complete with ivy, and topped by a 7'x4' stained glass replica of the scoreboard. When complete it will contain 280 "eternal luxury sky boxes" for you or your loved one's remains. Slots are filling up (must resist "dying to get in" joke); if you're interested, call 773 -463-4696 for pricing and more information. (courtesy Andrew Huff)