A Link to the Molly Hatchet Period

The archeologist in me was fascinated by this find during a weekend birthday party at one of the lake parks.

For you younger readers, that is what was known as a ‘pull tab’ (the Latin name escapes me.) They were used on canned beverages, a marvel of ingenuity at the time as it eliminated the need for a church key, also known as the pointy side of a bottle opener.

By my recollection, pull taps gave way to today’s pop-tops in the late 80s (I was busy studying in college at the time so I may be off a bit on this.) The design alteration was prompted by the popular trend of putting the recently pulled tab back into the full can of beer, and the less popular trend of then swallowing said tab, much to the dismay of the esophagus.

All that said, almost all drinkable beer comes in a bottle or on tap so there’s little need to concern yourself with opening a beverage can unless a soda would hit the spot.

Back to my discovery, I realize that the aluminum pull tabs aren’t readily degradable, yet I was surprised that so many of them could still be found lying around the park. I suppose I thought they would have either washed away or ended up as buried relics.

There’s a story behind each of the tabs that litter the park, most of which involve underage drinking. Perhaps one of those tabs belonged to you.

E.L.F ♥ Wal-Mart

The geographics of my existence find me driving past the new Wal-Mart quite often. While doing so, I’ve noticed something out of the ordinary trolling the grounds – an old fire department pumper.

Through my day job and my freelance work, I’ve learned a thing or two about green construction and sustainable design. I’ve also read about how the demon Wal-Mart is in many ways an innovator when it comes to incorporating green principles into their stores. So while I don’t know for certain the pumper’s purpose, I can offer an educated guess.

Behind the new store is a retention pond where rainwater that runs off the impervious pavement is captured. The pumper draws water from the pond into its internal apparatus. The truck is then driven around the grounds and the water dispersed to irrigate the grass and plant life. This, in lieu of a traditional sprinkler system which would draw treated water from the water mains at a much higher cost in terms of energy expended.

Now I know that Wal-Mart has its faults, but shouldn’t the green among us be applauding such efforts and encouraging other businesses to follow suit.

Nothing Personal, But Your Candidate Doesn’t Care Much for You

I don’t hate either candidate running for president. I can see some good in both of them and wouldn’t mind sharing a beer with either. But maybe if I knew them better, I’d think differently.

A columnist I read regularly and respect almost as often, wrote recently that most candidates who reach the pinnacle of office seeking aren’t nice people. This wasn’t a partisan assessment. Said columnist leans to the left, but saw no need to modify his statement with ideological qualifiers. And since he’s a history-minded sort and of rather high intellect, I tend to give his summation credence.

Afterall, you have to have an awfully big ego to think that you’re up for the most important job in the world. Nothing wrong with that, per se, but the egotistical tend to have a skewed view of reality and their place in it. And your place in it.

And while politicians have to do a lot of kissing up, they also have to be willing to piss people off. You can not let ambition be derailed by kindness or sincerity. Those with the most ambition probably have the fewest qualms about stepping on some heads on their way up the ladder.

Go On and Kick It, Kickboy

The home team lines up for a last second field goal to win the big game against their arch rivals, the Visitors. The Visitors have, in their possession, a time out, perfect for "icing" the Kicker. By now, everyone in the stadium knows that the tension and excitement created as the teams initially line up in field goal formation will be broken when the side judge rushes in to whistle time out. Everyone, including the Kicker.

That’s why I say, forget the time out and make him kick. The Kicker probably doesn’t even bother to fully mentally prepare himself until the time out has been exhausted, so you might catch him in a moment of lassitude.

That I’m a football-minded genius despite having never really played the game is apparent.

Slackjawed and Jigsaws

Last night, Victor and I tackled an exotic bird puzzle. We’ve been listening to "Fear and Loathing in Springfield" on WQNA on past occasions, but it wasn’t airing for some reason. So I dug deep into the CD archive and pulled out one I hadn’t played in years.

The Connells are one of those bands whose loyal following swears they are the best band in the world. They’ve never reached that status with me, but they are some mighty strong purveyors of semi-powerful pop.

We listened to their entire ‘Ring" album, Material Issue’s "International Pop Overthrow" and were well into "World of Monsters" by the Drovers by the time we finished the 300-piece puzzle. Not a bad way to spend a Sunday evening.