Brazen Defined!

It seems the current specie for purchasing votes is either free college for all or college debt forgiveness.  I have heard the clarion call from Mrs. Clinton and Mr. Sanders, “A public education is your birthright as a Millennial: Vote for me and your education will be free!”  It seems it’s just not fair that a recently minted college graduate should be burdened with all of that debt.

Why not?

You have all seen the coverage on the evening news; public demonstrations at which students (we are asked to presume… they wouldn’t employ professional agitators… would they?) are demanding that we; that’s you and I, not them, because they have no money to pay taxes, provide at least a public college level education to any and all who demand it.

Well here’s a fresh way to approach the problem; get a job and work your way through school.  I did it.  Now my diploma may not have the prestige of a Harvard or Stanford sheepskin.  But my “state school” education was sufficient foundation on which to build a career that allowed retirement at fifty.  Oh, and my degree?  It was in accounting, not cultural anthropology or racial studies. I was able to leverage my education into a high-paying, in-demand skill set; no debt.

How did I do it? 

Was I intellectually advantaged? 

Were the endowment committees throwing cash at me? 

No.  I did it the “economical way”.  I started off at a Community College that had a guaranteed credit transfer program to my four-year college of choice. Students often compare their SAT scores when discussing their academic careers.  Guess what; if you go the Community College route, you don’t have to take the SAT (or any other admissions test) as long as you’re in good academic standing when you apply to the four-year institution. I’m sure the CC program saved me thousands of dollars.  When I was in college I didn’t screw around.  I mapped out the shortest distance to the degree I wanted and didn’t get sidetracked by non-relevant academic powder-puff classes.  When I wasn’t working (full time) or in class (full time), I was, guess what… studying!  And it paid off.  I graduated with a solid “C” average.  But eventually, upon graduation, I was able to land a job with a good employer despite being launched into the workforce during Carter’s (Jimmy; 39^th POTUS) Depression.

And I didn’t have some on-campus, minimum-wage sinecure.  I worked in the real world.  I worked for a local department store chain as a security agent.  I didn’t keep track of the arrests I made.  There is no tally of the fights I was in.  But it was all for the greater good.  My greater good, because the yield was invaluable.  There are some people who are not academically oriented.  They should not go to college.  There are some people who have no life direction when they are sixteen, or twenty-six.  They should delay college until they have a clear academic goal.  If a youngster isn’t ready to make life decisions, they should join the military.  College is not a parking lot to be used until one decides which road they want to take.  Enrolling in college without some sense of one’s career ambitions is just a costly waste of time and money.  Think before you leap.

Does it seem I’m bragging a bit about my life accomplishments?  Well it should, because I am.  And for you socialists out there who want me to pay for everyone else’s education, go to hell!

Next week, something about space… I promise.

***Late Breaking News***

Prince has died.  I was not rabid fan of Prince.  I think his most significant contribution was ease with which he changed monikers to suit contractual need: Prince after he had become, The Artist Formerly Known as Prince which he was after he was Prince, initially.  Well, if that has you scratching your head then you are just like those of us who lived through this nominal evolution during the 80s.  But that is not the point of this bulletin.  My rant concerns the headline wording announcing this transitional development.  CNN and Fox News labeled Prince as a “legend” while MSNBC deemed him an icon. Well let’s check in with Mr. Webster and get his opinion of legend:

1a:  a story coming down from the past; especially:  one popularly regarded as historical although not verifiable

Now let’s try icon:

: a person who is very successful and admired

I think the decision is obvious; MSNBC wins the battle over syntax in this case.  Now that’s just something you’re not going to get from MSNBC very often.  But what is the big deal?  Well if we cannot look to our journalists to protect the language, we are doomed.

Suspension of Disbelief

If you are a reader of fiction, or a fan of film, or even a zombie under the spell of entertainment television, then you are familiar with the practice of suspending your disbelief.  “But Dale,” you say, “I wear a belt!  No braces for me thank you.”

Well, perhaps I should address this missive at a slower pace making no assumptions about the perspicacity of my audience.  Let’s begin again.  All fiction and a great deal of “documentable truth” contains some modicum of, shall we say, exaggerated fact.  What’s more, this element of untruth is usually apparent to even the least cerebral among us.  For example, our life experience has taught us superheroes do not really exist.  But for diversions sake, we will allow ourselves to accept Batman, Superman, Spiderman, Wonder Woman (don’t want to leave out the fair sex) can live in a world in which ultra-human exploits are not only possible but commonplace.  To enjoy this entertainment, we allow the story teller the latitude of credibility where none should exist.  We, in fact, suspend our disbelief.

While most authors (directors, et al) will confine their affront to the limits of the real world to a degree that our intelligence is not too badly insulted, there are those instances where the fabric of believability is stretched beyond our limit of forgiveness and we lose interest in the narrative.  I must admit that sometimes these forays into the ridiculous have their mirth value and I appreciate the outcome but on some plane other than the presenter’s intent.  All tastes are different, but I am particularly enamored of the “bug” movies of the 1950s: Them! (giant ants); Tarantula; Attack of the Crab Monsters; The Black Scorpion; The Deadly Mantis, etc.

I am not addressing their impact on me as a child.  Yes, as with all of you (if old enough) I would be transfixed by the television on Saturday afternoon as the hero scientist(s) engineered some incredible weapon to save us from these species of atomic mutated monsters.  No, I’m addressing the adult (or as close as I’m ever gonna get) Dale’s pleasure in re-watching them to appreciate just how truly bad they were.  I watch them without need to suspend my disbelief.  In fact, the more disbelief the better.  But hold on, I have yet to address the intent of this posting.  Are you ready?

It is truly a shame we cannot suspend disbelief in the idiotic goings on that comprise the current cycle of the presidential election pre-season.  Because no writer of fiction would dare proffer a combination of characters and actions as we have seen in the real world of 2016.  The players: A liar, a socialist, a bombast, a whiner and a delusionary hopeful.  I’ll leave it to you to figure out which is which.  And I can hardly wait to see who materializes as the parachute candidate at the Republican convention.

I am a skeptical man.  When an absolute truth is averred I am wont to engage my olfactory mechanism and take a deep whiff.  But I have tried these some sixty plus years not to become a cynic.  I want to hold out for truth and hope that those running for office really are in pursuit of the public and individual good.  I fear though, that the seeds of paranoia are beginning to sprout their arils into my heretofore resistant psyche.  To imagine that any of these presidential hopefuls from either party is equipped to turn the ship onto the right heading would require I suspend disbelief.  But unfortunately, I cannot.

James Madison

Here is the problem as I see it: Government has outgrown its beneficial qualities. The founders were motivated to wage war against the most militarily (and economically… but lack of response to last week’s blog post convinces me economics has worn thin with my venerable readership) powerful nation of the time to cast off tyrannical government.  In the debates that led to the creation of our nation, a key thesis was the limitation of government’s ability to intrude into the lives and endeavors of the citizens by specific assertion that powers not enumerated in the defining document (the Constitution, in case your falling behind) were reserved by the states or the people. And to underscore the sentiment, they appended the Bill of Rights in the form of the first ten amendments so there was no question about said Federation’s limited authority.

Thomas Jefferson

Almost immediately, a contest of wills between the two political camps; federalists (strong central government) and anti-federalists (strong state governments) resulted in the birth of the original political parties: The Federalists and the Democratic-Republicans. And there has been a battle for the soul of the citizenry ever since.  This would be of less consequence if we had kept to our original intent, limited government.  But of course the thirst for power and advantage (both political and economic, which of course are unavoidably intertwined) is the very nature of human civilization and results in eternal efforts to garner favor among the voters by pandering to their wants, tangible and ethereal.

Unfortunately, the desire to receive more from the government leads to the surrender of individual freedoms; and thus we have the state of the nation today, “Ask not what I can do to secure my own treasure, but what I can expect the government (i.e., the other taxpayers… the government has no wealth of its own) to provide for me.”  Embracing this philosophy has led to a bloated, unwieldy bureaucracy that has become insatiable.

And now, the move is on to engender college attendance as a right; to be paid for by the government (uh, the taxpayers).  We are now providing rent to people who are underemployed, food to lower income families, cell phones to the disadvantaged.  And soon, if the Democrats get their way, a full college scholarship. What’s next, a Chevrolet?  And don’t you Republicans wag your fingers… you have had more than enough opportunity over that last forty years to stem the tide of personal responsibility erosion.  But is seems that fear of the loss of power share has turned the conservatives cowardly.  And I’m just talking economics here.  Let’s not even get started on social issues.

There is only one solution, but I fear it may be too late.  Too many of our fellow citizens have become snuggly tucked in the blanket of comfort and ease.  But if we were able, could somehow find it within ourselves to say no to the seductive powers of a free-spending government, we could reduce the influence that government wields over our lives and then it would not be nearly as consequential if we elect a clown, dreamer or moron to the presidency or any other government office.  They are only as important as we let them be.

So let’s get together and build one big metaphorical shoe to stomp on the giant bug… bring back DDT!

Economics for Ladders

Forgive the awkward title but I was attempting to build in some nominal continuity with previous posts on issues economical (Don’cha just love The Pirates of Penzance? ...but I digress.)  If you are a resident of The People’s Republic of Kalifornia you should be aware that this past week the servant of the people (Wait, do I have that backwards? Oh, well.) i.e., the four-term Governor Interruptus, Jerry “Moonbeam” Brown, signed into law a new minimum wage statute that requires the current mandated wage of $10.00 per hour be escalated (elevators make me feel claustrophobic so I prefer the escalator… watch your toes) to $15.00 per hour by 2022.  Oh there is a provision to protect the small (less than twenty-five) employer by extending the schedule to 2023.  Thank you, your munificence!

“Hooray, “you say, “finally a champion steps forward to ease the suffering of the people.  Surely now the gap between super rich and miserable poor will start to close.  Huzzah!”  Well, my feeble brained protégés, not quite.  A caveat, I do not hold myself out as an economist, although I was required to complete three courses in the dismal science (emphasis: complete …there is no assumption of mastery) to earn my business degree.  But the experience did arm me with enough argot that if I can’t dazzle you with my brilliance, I will at least baffle you with my bullshit.  So much for my bona fides, now back to the matter at hand.

Please recall from earlier postings that Economics is the study of human behavior in an environment of scarce resources.  As with many terms, “scarce resources” differs in meaning for scholastic economists than it does for your average cafeteria worker.  For the hair net set, scarce means hard to locate or acquire.  In the world of John Maynard Keynes et al, it means of finite supply, no matter how large that supply might be.  So right there we underscore one of the challenges of applying economic theory to everyday life; economists make up their own definitions for words with which we are intimately familiar.

Keep this economist’s notion of scarcity in mind as we proceed with the discussion of the merits of an increase in the minimum wage, or the existence of government mandated wage levels at all.  The hair pulling populace lament the growth of the lower (income) class (Honestly, isn’t America, after all is said and done, at its heart, a classless society?  Yeah, I had to kind of chuckle while I wrote that too.) and the demise of the middle class.  No one ever quantifies those numbers with any gusto.  But I have read essays that proffer more people have migrated from the ranks of the middle income to the upper income than have fallen from the middle to the lower.  Rather conveniently, I cannot recall the resource from which I gleaned this tidbit: But in absentia does reinforce the aforementioned notion of resource scarcity.

The labor unit, i.e. worker, i.e. you, are a finite resource. There are only so many of you (hey, don’t count me in that number, I finagled my talents into an early retirement) to go around when it comes to filling job openings.  Here it is, the dreaded discussion of supply and demand:  If demand (work to be done) exceeds supply (appropriately skilled workers), the price of labor (wages) goes up naturally.  If an artificial floor is established by government, no matter the dollar amount, the mandated wage is still the bottom rung on the ladder (Oh, okay Dale, the whole ladder thing makes sense now) and eventually the system will adjust to the new calibration and $15.00/hr. tomorrow will buy what $10.00/hr. bought today.  Get it?  The value of any commodity (resource) will naturally set itself at the right price vis-à-vis the rest of the market.  The hamburger flipper will be earning 50% more that he did before Gov. Jerry worked his magic, but the price of the hamburger will eventually go up that much as well.  So will rent, car payments, beer… and so there you are, washing dishes on the bottom rung of the economic ladder, making $15.00/hr., if your job was not eliminated because it is now more practical for your former employer to buy a new-fangled dish washing machine.

It is all interconnected, that’s why I like to think of myself as the holistic economist-lite. In addition to this simplistic illustration of the effect wage increases on product prices there are other things to consider: Price elasticity, capital availability, economic vs. financial profit, mustard (don’t get me started on the great mustard vs. catsup debate of 1887).  You can now see how valuable proprietary argot can be in shutting down an argument.

As I see your eyes are beginning to roll back in your head, we will now switch to our regularly scheduled Vogon Poetry Hour.  See you next week.

Shake That Tree A Little Harder

Charles Darwin

You may remember, if you have been following this blog for that long, that in an unidentified (because I can’t find it) post I alluded to that great Darwinian event when our ancestors split the sheets with our non-homo sapiens forbearers and climbed out of the arboreal-sphere (I love to make up new words) and began the arduous journey to the top of the food chain.  If you do, great.  If you don’t, good luck trying to find it because I can’t.  But I digress.

For a long time, but to no avail, I have been expounding the theory that man (you know, us) did not generate from a single common ancestor.  I offer proof: Have you been to the zoo?  Did you visit the primate exhibits?  Did it dawn on you (as it did me) that aside from age related differences in size and hair color that all the members of a single species looked pretty much the same?  Oh sure, there are some distinguishing features if you care to spend the time and effort to discover them.  But not to the extent that we humans seem to offer.  Think about it.  When was the last time you attended a social function populated mostly by persons unknown to you?  The second thing you did was start a mental catalogue of those around you based on differences in physical attractiveness.  The very first thing you did was head to the bar to start the process of peeling back the social inhibitions.  Am I right?

Oh you may challenge my hypothesis by returning, “Dale, all species engage it a mating selection criteria process.”  And they do: Chiefly, if the female is in season, the alpha male will render her the lucky girl of the day.   But I digress.  To the observant, people have wide and varied physical characteristics, so varied that it seems we are not of one species, but several.  After years of being viewed askance when I offer my theory, sometimes shunned, I now have some support for my intellectual meanderings.  On March 18, 2016 (hot off the presses, boys), William Dunham of Reuters News Service writes:

Our species, Homo sapiens, has a more adventurous sexual history than previously realized, and all that bed hopping long ago has left an indelible mark on the human genome.

Scientists said on Friday an analysis of genetic information on 1,500 people from locations around the world indicated at least four interbreeding episodes tens of thousands of years ago, three with our closes cousins the Neanderthals and one with the mysterious extinct human species known as Denisovans.

Neanderthal

I will not go into the depth of the article, but the crux is that about 100,000 years ago, our supposed ancestors were playing fast and loose with the old DNA swap with at least three other species that now are part of our genetic makeup; Neanderthal, Denisovans and one yet unidentified.  What I find interesting is that neither Neanderthals or Denisovans genetic identifiers occur in African peoples.  That’s because neither species ever made a presence there.  So then, where did they come from?  Well, Denisovans discovered in just the past decade are known from only a pinky finger bone and two teeth from a northern Siberian cave.  You think about the implications for Afro-centrism.

It seems to me there are some big holes in the anthropological record… and I’m just the armchair explorer to guess what they might reveal until some bona fide scientist proves me wrong.  Next week, the future of sex, I hope.  More about that later. 

No Thank You, Please!

I know I shouldn’t do it but I guess I’ll never learn.  Today, I was scanning the internet news headlines and I came across this:  Nike Unveils Its First Self-Lacing Sneaker.  It was bad enough when they introduced the pump so you could tighten your shoes’ fit, but now they are putting sensors and adjustment mechanisms in the shoe to ensure the proper of fit.  And soon, they will release a shoe that makes the adjustment by itself.

Now I am no luddite.  I embrace useful technological advances with good humor (notice I wrote, “useful” ‘cause let’s face it, some technology is just there for the bragging rights).   But it seems to me that we are on the path to a skill-set free existence.  Soon, no one will have to do anything, it will all be done for us.  One of my toughest childhood challenges was learning to lace and tie my shoes.  When I mastered that, I had booked a huge win in the self-confidence column of life’s register.  And it was no easy feat.  I remember, my dad announced, “This is the day you learn to tie your shoes!”  I have to admit that I was wearing my little red cowboy boots daily not to make a fashion statement, but because it was required we take off our shoes for kindergarten nap time… and the teacher forbade my little girl-friends from tying my shoes for me (you may remember Donna and Rose Marie from a previous post).

I was seated in the family folding chair (why we had one folding chair was a mystery I never solved, even to the day I sold the damn thing at my parents’ estate sale) facing a blank wall, no TV, until I successfully followed the rabbit through the hole three times.  But by the end of those tortuous hours (well it seemed like hours to me) I was equipped with a skill that precluded my wearing penny loafers… ever!

And speaking of the family folding chair, it was deeply involved in my training reference: getting cracker crumbs on my Sunday suit while dining at the Chief’s Club (NCO Club to non-sailors); talking while in church; overfilling the bathroom sink while reenacting the Battle of Okinawa with my fleet of toy ships; letting the dog and/or cat into the house (spaying/neutering was not so widely practiced in the days of my youth; if you don’t understand you’ve never owned a tom cat).

But back to the point of waning skill sets.  We have so little to do concerning our day-to-day existence that is not done for us automatically by a machine or for a fee by some entrepreneur that we are dumfounded when something doesn’t perform as per our expectations and we are forced to buy a replacement rather than fix it, or worse yet, do without!

 

Mastery of problem solving skills, even simple ones like tying one’s shoes, are essential to our continued existence as a biological entity.  Yet more and more of our skills are being eroded because it’s all done for us.  See how many of the questions you regarding simple tasks you can answer:

• How do you make a shovel more effective (if you are stumped by the term “shovel”, just quit now)?
• What is the proper gap for your sparkplugs (if you don’t know where your sparkplugs are, meet your new robot overlords)?
• Does water boil at a higher or lower temperature at higher elevations, and what effect does that have on cooking times (or you could just eat trail mix, right)?
• Do you know how to change a flat tire (do you even know where your spare is, or if you have one)?
• If your car gets stuck in the mud, should you add air or decrease air in your tires (if you don’t know, why did you leave the pavement in the first place)?

If you desperately need the answer to any of these questions, call the people at Nike who invented the self-lacing shoe.

Too Tightly Wound

So, you’re happy It’s almost Daylight Saving Time.  Are you one of those creatures who like to frolic on the lawn at dusk after a hard day’s work, but wouldn’t be caught outside after dark?  Yeah, I know who you are... and I hate each and every one of you!  “Why,” you ask, “would you hate us for practicing a tradition honored through time en memorium?”  Because “so called” Daylight Saving Time is a sham, a ruse perpetrated on the gullible by maleficent forces seeking to control the behavior of man for nefarious motive.  More on that later, but first, what you do not know about Daylight Saving Time.

The great myth:  Daylight Saving Time was invented by that beloved American philosopher, inventor and national patriarch, Ben Franklin.  This is patently untrue.  The origin of Ben’s association with Daylight Saving Time stems from a 1784 essay he wrote for the Journal of Paris titled “An Economical Project for Diminishing the Cost of Light” in which he jokingly suggested that Parisians could economize candle usage by getting people out of bed earlier in the morning, making use of the natural morning light instead.  He made no mention of resetting time pieces to take advantage of seasonal variances in sunlight.

The first recorded modern use of Daylight Saving Time occurred in Thunder Bay, Ontario (that’s in Canada, dearies… up, look up on the map) in 1908.  Other Canadian communities implemented the practice including Regina, Saskatchewan in 1914 and Winnipeg, Manitoba in 1916.  The first nationwide incorporation of Daylight Saving Time was in 1916 by Germany and its ally Austria-Hungry when clocks were turned ahead on April 30, 1916 to minimize the use of artificial lighting and save fuel for the war effort during World War I.  The idea was quickly adopted by the United Kingdom, France and many other countries.  After all, who would want to fight an enemy that was an hour ahead of you? And the French are sticklers for knowing when it’s time to surrender: “Mon Dieu! It is three o’clock, we must surrender before the British break for tea!” The countries reverted to standard time after the war ended and Daylight Saving Time would not return to Europe until world War II.

Daylight Saving Time was adopted into law as “Fast Time” in the United States (no… of America) in 1918 to support the war effort during World War I.  The initiative was led by Robert Garland, a Pittsburgh industrialist who had encountered the idea in the UK.  Today he is often called the “Father of Daylight Saving”. Yeah, I’ve never heard of him either but that’s what is says in the source I plagiarized for this blog post.  Frankly, I think he should be investigated for child abuse. Only seven months later, the seasonal time change was repealed.

While some municipal jurisdictions continued to practice Daylight Saving Time (e.g., the demographically insignificant cities of Pittsburgh, Boston and New York), a national Daylight Saving Time was not reinstated until February 1942 for World War II.  It was left in place year round until the war ended, reverting back to standard time September 30, 1945.  From 1945 to 1966 there were no uniform rules in the U.S. resulting in widespread confusion, especially for trains, buses, broadcasting and happy hour scheduling.  To smooth the seas for wide spread afternoon drunkenness, the Uniform Time Act of 1966 was enacted into law. This established the familiar April to October adoption of Daylight Saving Time schedule.  However, as with all uniform laws resting on solid foundational logic, states were allowed to exempt themselves.

Due to the overflowing love for America residing in the bosom of the Arab peoples, Congress extended the Daylight Saving Time period to ten months in 1974 and eight months in 1975 in response to the 1973 oil embargo.  The trial period showed a savings of 10,000 barrels each day.  But the extension of Daylight Saving Time was controversial as many complained that dark winter mornings endangered the lives of children traveling to school.  C’mon people, get on board!  It’s easy to make new kids.  But until we discovered fracking, oil was a scarce resource.

The explosion of this myth will really blow your understanding of Daylight Saving Time:  Farmers lobby for Daylight Saving Time as it allows for more time in the fields.  False!  The agriculture industry was deeply opposed to the practice when implemented in 1918.  The farmers performed their tasks based on the sun and natural cycles.  Observing Daylight Saving Time meant the farmers had to wait an extra hour in the morning for dew to evaporate before they could harvest hay.  Hired hands worked less since they left the fields for dinner at the same time.  And cows needed to be milked on their own schedule, regardless of the time indicated on a watch.  Moo!

“But what about all those energy savings?” you ask.  From the very start of the debate, Daylight Saving Time advocates have touted energy conservation as an economic benefit. A U.S. Department of Transportation study in the 1970s concluded that total electricity savings associated with daylight saving time amounted to about one percent (1%) in the spring and fall months.  However, with the ubiquity of air conditioning, more recent studies have found that cost savings on lighting are more than offset by greater cooling costs.

So in light of all of the information indicating that there is no demonstrable economic benefit to Daylight Saving Time, why do we persist in this anachronistic practice?  All you have to do is follow the money.  When we look into the financial records related to lobbying activity in favor of Daylight Saving Time, who is it that sits at the top of the list?  (Insert dramatic ta-da here.) Manufacturers of patio furniture and outdoor grills.  Yes, people, we are being controlled by Big Bar-B-Q!  We’ve been Webber-ed!

The Milky Way

Ha! Ha! Fooled ya: You thought this was going to be about space again.  But it is not.  This offering is a nostalgic meander through the confectionary memories of my childhood.

Ah, Milky Way… it’s a candy bar and a galaxy.  Okay now?  Are you up to speed?  Can we move along?  You’ll have a chance to ask questions later.

I do not remember a life before candy.  I have a sweet tooth.  I would rather quaff an A&W than a Heineken.  Actually, I would rather quaff anything than a beer, no matter its pedigree.  But if you know me, you’d be aware of that.  If you don’t know me, well stick around anyway to keep the “click” count up.   You might want to go back and read some of my old stuff from when I was funny.  Now back to our scheduled program, always in progress.

I have memories from when I was a tyke (is four years old a tyke?) of my father bringing home a selection of candy bars as a special treat (which means they were on sale at five for a dime or something like that) and since there were only the three of us in the household (me, mom, dad… in that order of importance… I mean after all; mom was the one who prepared my Franco-American spaghetti while I was watching Romper Room every day… yes, I was a Do Bee… stop snickering, you are only demonstrating your cultural ignorance) there was quite a variety to choose from: Snickers (no pun, ref. the Do Bee phrase), Mars, Milky Way and Three Musketeers.

I always picked the Mars bar.  Why?  Well because it was the biggest.  Okay, I have no idea if it was the biggest because I couldn’t read the labels.  But to my untrained eye, the shape made it look larger even if it was the same net weight as the others.  And when you are four years old, size matters (see my blogpost Size Matters, 7/18/13).   As my taste matured during the years of elementary education I found my preference for its multi-faceted ingredients and chewy composition led me to the Snickers bar; nougat and caramel in the same confection, and peanuts just to add personality.  Sorry Mars, the days of simplicity were over, the self-aware man needs context and subtlety.

  In 2008, while I was on a road trip with Frank to Wyoming, M&M Mars (the maker of Snickers and other candy bars) introduced a limited run of their most popular brands made with… wait for it… Dark Chocolate.  Every time I saw a convenience store on the horizon, I would start talking about waterfalls and ocean tides; next thing you know Frank would ask that we stop to let him evacuate his bladder.  As it is common courtesy on the part of the highway traveler who does not need gas to purchase something from the convenience store in gratitude for, well the convenience, while I was waiting I would buy a dark chocolate Snickers bar.  More about dark chocolate later… easy girls, we’ll get there.

As I entered by preteen years, I discovered a world of offerings made by confectioners other than M&M, Mars.  One of my favorites was Big Hunk.  I found that the nougat and peanut slab offered something of a challenge.  As an adult, there is no way I would attempt to ingest a whole Big Hunk.  The effort involved and the wear and tear on one’s jaws is just too great.  But during the summers of my preteen years, it was an oft granted treat that one of the neighborhood moms would pile all of us into their station wagon and drop us off at the La Mesa community pool for an afternoon of unsupervised frolic and frivolity.  I guess they figured the teen-aged life guards would keep us alive, “Good luck boys, I’ll be back for the survivors.”  Each would enter the facility with two dimes.  One for the admission fee and one for the snack bar to buy a treat as we laid out in the sun drying our trunks (nobody had a “swimsuit”, we were manly suburbanites).  It was my wont to select a Big Hunk, because I figured the effort applied to eating a sugary treat was somehow proportional to the level of perceived satisfaction.  I also remember not being able to eat the evening’s dinner fare as my jaws were locked tight by cramping muscles. Then, I discovered the Look bar.  All the sticky nougat goodness of the Big Hunk, covered in chocolate!  It was impossible to consume one of these masterpieces of child-targeted marketing without getting saliva dissolved chocolate on every square inch of one’s body. I am surprised the neighborhood moms didn’t strap me to the hood of the car for the drive home.

Chocolate, of course, is the rose in the bouquet of candies.  Anybody who does not like chocolate should have their name added to a subversives list.  It’s just unnatural.  But chocolate and its effects are something of an enigma.  It comes in three colors!  Milk chocolate seems where we all start the romance.  And it suffices well as an introductory experience.  But one is going to have to make a choice eventually; the light or the dark.  I remember my introduction to white chocolate. It was my paternal grandmother who brought along a box on one of here frequent visits.  It was sweet, too sweet.  I was flying around the house fueled by concentrated sugar.  My mother rightly rationed my intake for the duration of my grandmother’s stay and insisted she take the uneaten squares home when she departed.  I’m not sure how many days passed before my metabolism stabilized.

I do not remember my introduction to dark chocolate. But it was probably Hershey’s Special Dark from the miniatures assortment bag.  I can assure you, dark chocolate was created in hell by Satan to tempt the faithful to their eternal damnation.  I think that puts the punctuation on where I stand on the dark chocolate issue.  And as proof of the downfall of human society, we now publish the strength (% cocoa solids content listed on the package) to assure we get the proper fix dosage. For my particular taste, 60% is about the highest I can go.  But I know some women who derive such a deep pleasure response that they regularly eat chocolate with a cocoa solids content as high as 80%.  Men, I think were falling short somewhere (could it be another “size matters” indicator?).

If I were to limit myself to one source for my chocolate, it would be See’s Extra Dark Chocolate.  I know there are brands with more exotic names and fancier packaging, but you can’t beat See’s for consistent excellence.  My favorite is the Dark Chocolate Butter Chew.  I’m not gonna tell you what it looks like.  You will know where it was by the empty space in the box when I pass it to you.

Oh, it looks like we’ve run out of time for questions.