Twitterpated

I'm hooked on this Twitter thing. I've found it to be a great way to network and get people reading my columns. . If you want to follow my "tweets" just go to http://www.twitter.com and create a free account. Look for ArynCorley. Then follow. It's so easy!
As an added bonus, I've subscribed to TwitPic so I can share some of my interesting photos with the rest of the world.
My sincerest thanks to all of you who read my stuff and tell others about it.

SNA AWARD WINNING COLUMNIST

I won a Surburban Newspapers of America Award for my headline I wrote for my lovebug article! Hopefully, this will be the first of many.

http://www.hcnonline.com/articles/2009/01/31/cleveland_advocate/news/0609advocate_wins_awards_ca.txt

ASP Westward LP

Houston Community Newspapers, Cleveland Advocate-HCN

Cleveland, TX

3rd Place, Classes A/B Combined

CATEGORY 6-Best Headline

Nobody Loves Bugs by Aryn Conley*

*mispelled; should read 'Corley'.

Please read the article below:
Nobody Loves Bugs Like Lovebugs Love Bugs
http://aryncorley.blogspot.com/2008/09/string-cheese-article-thirteen.html

Thanks.

Lucky Stars with Nigel

I play a character on the radio named "Nigel". We do the bit on Wednesdays at about 7:50 a.m. CST. He's a British psychic who gives horrible horroscopes. If you're interested in hearing the bit just click the following link:

http://www.livingston.net/classichits/audio.php

Here are the Lucky Stars for 1-28-2009.

Taurus: Your friends are important to you. Especially the one who stays on the couch.

Virgo: You may need to take time out of your day to deal with your mate or someone else who really annoys you.

Scorpio: Someone is going to ask a question which will totally boggle your mind. It will most likely be "Would you like to upsize that?"

Aquarius: Finacnial information isn't as helpful as usual today. Not to worry. Just keep putting your ATM card into the machine until it runs out of funny green paper.

Feng Shui Tip of the Day:

     If you want to "un-muddy" the waters of your life... flush.

String Cheese - Article Twenty

Some greetings are hands-on experiences

By ARYN CORLEY

As long as there have been homosapiens pretending to be people, they’ve needed a way to greet one another. Since hind end sniffing was monopolized by canines, the handshake was developed.

Trust me. It’s a good thing. Otherwise, walking into the front doors at church on Sunday morning would be pretty weird.

Accepted as a universal sign of good will, the handshake is one of those gestures that spans across cultures and breaks down language barriers. Just like sticking out your tongue fourteen times and humming “nanny nanny boo-boo.”

Although the meaning of the handshake is relatively unambiguous, not all handshakes are created equal. In fact, the handshake you get is as much a unique characteristic of the person giving it as their signature.

In Texas, you’re most likely to get a firm handshake from just about everyone including newborns. I think it’s a reflection of our friendly nature. Personally, I like firm handshakes. Especially from women 30 or older.

However, if you go anywhere else you’re likely to get what I call a “sick clam.”

The “sick clam” is that kind of half handshake where the other person barley pinches the tips of your fingers with a cold, clammy hand. The whole affair makes me feel creepy like I’ve just been gummed by an 80-year-old mollusk.

Conversely, I don’t like having the “tortilla press” applied to me either.

The “tortilla press” is where the giver is less concerned with your well-being and more concerned about squishing your hand into one flat uniform piece like a tortilla. It seems like the more your face turns purple and your eyes water, the harder the other person squeezes. Luckily, it’s only men who do this. Otherwise, the resultant swift kick to the [deleted] wouldn’t be as effective.

Recently, I was talking to a friendly 18-year-old person from inner-city Houston. The handshake started off normal enough, but quickly morphed into a series of manual somersaults and machinations that made me feel like I was in a dance routine rather than just saying, “Hello.” By the time it was over, I felt confused about what had just happened, yet refreshed that I’d gotten such a workout. It was all I could do just to follow along. I call that handshake “The Simon Sez.”

Fist bumping has become popular lately. This is accomplished by two people who don’t want the commitment and intimacy of a legitimate handshake, but want something more substantial than a “high five.”

Too bad. I really liked the high five.

It was about the only way you could slap someone in public without getting the police involved. The downside to the “high five” is that it needed to be rehearsed at least 15 times. There’s nothing more embarrassing, or funny, about seeing two people awkwardly miss each other’s hands and landing right on the other person’s forehead.

Howie Mandel, host of NBC television’s insipid game show “Deal, or No Deal,” prefers not to shake hands with people because he’s afraid of germs. He opts instead for a trendy fist bump. Sadly, Howie doesn’t know about the Fistodollas bacillus germs that are spread by fist bumping and causes impotence and baldness. Ironically, most deals are closed with a handshake.

Of course, it’s almost impossible to engage someone in a handshake without making a few gaffs.

I once tried to shake hands with a guy who was missing an arm. Oops. Wrong hand.

In some cultures, shaking with the wrong hand could prove to be very insulting.

Generally speaking, one shouldn’t try to shake hands with the dead.

Regardless, handshakes have been around for hundreds of years and will be around for hundreds more. Perhaps, the best policy is simply to keep our hands to ourselves.

Speaking of handshakes, try this riddle:

Suppose six people shake hands with each other. How many handshakes are there?

Hint: The answer is somewhere in this article.

Have fun!

String Cheese - Article Nineteen

Old promises help ring in New Year

By ARYN CORLEY

Someone asked me a question just the other day.

“What’s your New Year’s Resolution?“

I stared back at the person with an utterly blank look on my face.

Honestly, I really haven’t given it much thought. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I made a New Year’s Resolution. It’s not that I’m perfect and could do without self-improvement. I’d love to have another set of arms. I could probably do something to make myself better in some way.

But why?

Most folks make New Year’s Resolutions to give themselves a goal to work forward to in the coming year. According the usa.gov website, among the most popular resolutions people make every year are pledging to quit smoking, saving more money, getting fit, and reducing stress. While those are admirable and somewhat lofty goals for some people, I don’t know if any of those goals are realistic. Sadly, I don’t know of anyone who has ever bragged about keeping a New Year’s Resolution. It seems resolutions are doomed to fail and meet their peril only mere hours after their declaration.

Much like a celebrity marriage.

If you listen carefully, you can hear the desperate cries of help from these poor resolutions as they go careening off the cliff of human nature and smashing onto the rocks of our collective pathological behavior below.

There goes one now. Did you hear it?

Do we unnecessarily set ourselves up for failure? I feel sympathetic to people who try to quit smoking. Just when the smoker has gone several weeks without “sparking up,” a precipitating factor occurs which facilitates a craving for a nice, slow drag on a cancer stick. Usually around tax time.

I used to be a smoker myself and found quitting to be very difficult. However, my decision to quit wasn’t made out of a hackneyed attempt to follow tradition. Rather, I needed to stop smoking because it was expensive and, according to my wife, I looked like an idiot with my cigarette dangling precariously on my lip like some kind of third-rate James Dean.

So, instead of lighting a cigarette when I get stressed out, I opt for banging baby hamsters with a large hardcover book.

Not really.

Breaking a resolution must make people feel bad. Nobody likes to fail. That is, of course, anybody outside of government service. Starting off the year with one strike against you is depressing. That’s pretty bad if you’ve made a resolution not to be depressed.

Instead of making silly resolutions to eliminate some aspect of our personality, why not make a resolution that will enhance it? It’s our imperfections that add flavor to who we are as people. It gives our lives meaning. If people were perfect, marriage would be pointless.

Instead of declaring to stop biting fingernails, declare that fingernails must be bitten with chocolate on them.

I also see no harm in making an easy to follow and universally acceptable resolution. For instance, it would be difficult to find anyone who would disagree with a resolution stating one would use more hand sanitizer. From a public health perspective, that’s a very good resolution to have.

The bottom line is that resolutions, whether they’re genuine, or just a feeble attempt to get a member of the opposite sex to acknowledge your existence, should be well thought out and attainable. Otherwise, you’ll beat yourself up all year long.

After a brief pause, I responded to the person I was talking to.

“This year,” I said. “I’m not making any more bad jokes.”

Whoops.

There goes another one...

String Cheese - Article Eighteen

Singers often sing in star-bangled manner

By ARYN CORLEY

Updated: 12.15.08

I hate watching someone butcher our national anthem. Whether it’s at a social event, sports game, or kid’s birthday party, when the performer steps up to the mic, I don’t know whether to feel patriotism or dread. It’s amazing to me that a song, depending on the success of the performance, can leave you feeling happy about America or wanting to kill the singer.

When massacred, the national anthem could inspire a hostile crowd to chant, “Eat the performer!” Okay, mob cannibalism is a little extreme. However, a riot is not entirely out of the question.

When Francis Scott Key was watching Fort McHenry getting pummeled by British warships, he grabbed his pen and starting jotting down some words. After all, if you can’t fight... write. Ironically, Key’s college roommate was with him and dictated to Key most of the events of the battle. He was an Argentinian kid named Jose who also wore very thick glasses. Several times during the skirmish Key would ask his friend, “Jose, can you see?”

The rest is history. Sort of.

The Star Spangled Banner is considered to be one of the most difficult songs to sing. Although, it’s not nearly as difficult to sing as Staying Alive by the Bee-Gees.

There seems to be some confusion regarding the correct protocol when the song is performed. Some people put their hands over their hearts while some keep their hands down to their sides. I find myself often putting my hands over my ears.

When I was in the military, we had to stand at attention, salute, and face the music at the end of every business day on post. Of course, if you were indoors this wasn’t necessary.

One day a kid in my unit, [ironically] named Scheer, almost scalped himself completely as he hit his head on a low metal beam supporting a stairway landing as he tried to run inside before the music played. Needless to say he saw stars, stripes, and paramedics.

When I was overseas, we had to wait for the host country’s anthem to play before ours. I sure was glad that no country ever adopted Jethro Tull’s “Aqualung.”

If you want to browse an interesting collection of mangled performances of our country’s anthem, then look no further than You Tube. You can relive every excruciating moment of Roseanne Barr’s rendition or go way back to see Jose Feliciano’s version, which caused him to go blind. Not really. My favorite is Michael Bolton, who had to look at a cheat-card because he forgot the lyrics. Judging from the crowd’s reaction, they wanted his spleen with their nachos.

Those videos illustrate the point I made. Anyone can sing the song out of tune, but forget the words and it’s off the gallows with you.

For all would-be National Anthem singers I make this plea: learn the tune and don’t forget the words.

By the way, the words are “... perilous fight.”

A “...perilous flight” is what you get when the pilot falls asleep.

Jump, Jive, and Wail!

Happy Holidays.

I've got another cheese posting tomorrow. Hunting season has had me pretty busy, lately. Three weeks to go. Whew. I think I can make it.

A fellow police officer was killed in the line of duty in Houston just two days ago. In fact, the incident occurred not far from where I work my "EJ". When things like that happen it really makes me extra careful and paranoid.

ITMT, I'm going to West Texas to visit relatives. Oddly enough, they live right down the road from that polygamist compound that was raided (Ironically, by co-workers of mine). I may do some updates from the road. It largely depends on the type of cell service I can get way out there. 

Thanks for checking in with me and I will have a new article up tomorrow.

When you get a chance, check out videos by Brian Setzer on You Tube. That lucky bastard got all of my guitar playing ability when I was in line waiting on a sense of humor.

Nuts.