SLiM: Row, Row, Row

Charles Babbage Jr was singing a song. It is a song I have heard being sung hundreds of times over my (short) life. The lyrics of the song go like this:

Row, row, row, your boat, gently down the stream, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream.

You, my reader, have probably heard this song thousands of times over your life, but yet, it got me thinking.

I’ve heard plenty of philosophy and uplifting lines. Some of my favorites:

If you feel you’re at the bottom of the world, don’t worry, the world turns around every 24 hours. (I know, scientifically it doesn’t make too much sense. It’s still pretty good, though.) Another one: Before you see the light, you’ve got to deal with the darkness. But none of these quotes are as inspiring as the last line in that nursery rhyme.

…life is but a dream.

Amazing what’s hidden in a little kid’s song, huh?

SLiM: Happy Un-Turkey Day

I am a very patriotic person. I love our country, and especially Thanksgiving, when we talk about what we are thankful for. I also love the food, and that I get out of school early. However, I want to make one thing clear.

There is substantial evidence that the pilgrims never ate turkey on the first thanksgiving. Killing such a timid bird was considered lazy, and the Native Americans would certainly have certainly refused to dine with lazy people. I’m not saying it’s for sure not, I’m saying that it’s highly unlikely, and that’s enough to stop me.

Carry on with your turkey, but I don’t think I want to join you, thank you.

Unless if the pilgrims said that the main dish was wild vulture, and the Indians believed them.

Which is unlikely.

SLiM: The Missing Whale

(Editor's Note: This post mysteriously never made the blog but was written in a timely fashion. It is still fresh and enjoyable, however.)

Now that the holiday seasons are over (I mean officially, now that we have taken down our oh-so-temporary home,) I would like to reflect.

At this time last year, I was reading a fun book, by the name of The Ear, the Eye, and the Arm. This was because of a program which involves smashing people over the head with books (sorry, I couldn’t resist).

The clan, along with some cousins, went on the average, every-chance-we-get-oh-let’s-go-there trips we usually take at this time of year. Some of my reviews from them:

The ol’ ice-skating SLiM is just as good as he ever was (namely, not all that great). It looked much worse next to my cousin, whom we shall call $cooter, who is much better than me though he looks about my age, height, and build.

Ahhh, Jeepers. What can I say? You run in, stomp on a few spiders, and get a little Thing that is supposed to resemble a horse. Presently, you lose the Thing about 25 minutes after receiving it, making your 45 minutes of spider stomping a waste of time. The Yak-Attack was fun, though, and I must’ve gone on the Python Pit 15 times.

The meals were good as always, though the conversations weren’t what I anticipated. It was chilly with rain EVERY DAY every 5 ½ minutes. Still, it wasn’t bitter cold, and there were very few bees (a few came to taste M.M.’s food).

I had a lesson on how to build a hut, if I am stranded in some place with only a few pipes, fishing wire, and bamboo. The result was quite satisfying.


And now, my main rant. Since it rained a lot, the tarp was needed very much. And as I was serving food to the rest of the clan at the table minus Rabbim, I heard Rabbim’s voice from outside, “Beware the Whale!” As I walked out, a massive sploosh of water came down from the tarp, causing my shirt to get water on it. And the water was wet.

Rabbim came in, saw my pathetic state, and said “I told you about the whale!”

Hmm. That’s strange. I didn’t see any 500 ton animal anywhere in the metropolitan area.

The next morning, I came out, only to see the tarp heavy with water and Rabbim trying to get rid of it, muttering some stuff about the troublesome whales.

Soon we came home, and I found M.M. poking the tarp with a stick, saying “we’ve got to get rid of that whale!” I was wondering if our pet whale which we don’t have was on top of our bamboo roof. It seemed odd, but perhaps I missed the memo that our family was getting a very oversized pet.

During the meal, I heard a very upset Rabbim say “I must get rid of that whale, now, once and for all.”

I was really upset now. I asked as politely as I could (which sounded something like a yell) “would you please tell what all this talk about whales is?!”

I got 3 or 4 stunned faces. 3 or 4 wide open mouths. 3 or 4 “you don’t know what a whale is?”

I wanted to say, “Yeah, duh I know what it is. It is a marine mammal, with many different species from the humpback to the blue to the northern right whale. The blue whale’s tongue is about the size of a car, and its heart weighs about as much as an elephant. Whales dine only on plankton. Whales live in many different ocean habitats, but I’ve never heard of a whale that lives on top of a TARP!” I wanted to say it, but wisely didn’t.

The answer: “Oh, a whale refers to a collection of water on top of a tarp.”

I was not amused. A friendly argument then broke out about whose side of the family it comes from.

Next time, I’m just going to get my harpoon gun and go get the whale myself.

SLiM: A Chocolate WHAT at the North Pole?

Sometimes I am a stickler for science, and sometimes I am not. This happened on one of my stickler-for-science days.

In complete privacy, I asked M.M. for something radical. I asked for a chocolate. I was granted permission into the heavily guarded, barbed wired area of the cabinet. (Okay…I’m exaggerating a little.) There I found a large chocolate sculpture of something that was supposed to resemble some sort of bird. On top of the package, there was a statement:

Chill with your north pole pals!

One minor problem for a stickler-for-science, though. Next to that line, there were 3 pictures. There was a polar bear, walrus, and (surprisingly) a penguin.

Where is the problem? I’ll tell you. Penguins live the farthest away from the North Pole that is possible. They live by the South Pole.

I chose my chocolate, and turned my back to the disgrace of knowledge of the average American chocolate eater.

SLiM: Bow Ties

Nowadays, people want to find cheap ways to look elegant. One such way is to get a cheap clip-on bow tie, and simply clip it on, instead of learning how to tie a real bow tie.

This is all okay if you put it under the collar. What really drives me crazy is if you clip it on over the collar.

We now present SLiM’s quick ‘n’ easy steps to put that bow tie back under the collar.

I. Unclip the bow tie.
II. Fold over collar, and close button.
III. Re-clip bow tie.
IV. Fold down collar.

If you find that you can’t follow these rules, I will quote for you from a wonderful book called Tricks of the Trade, page 180. It was written by a commentator on NBC’s Today Show named Gene Shalit, who commonly wears a bow tie.

There are two sorts of bow ties. One is real: You tie it yourself. One is false: You clip it on and apply for a job as a waiter.

In my humble opinion, a clip-on bow tie looks ridiculous, even if you are a waiter.

Here’s the bottom line: If you feel a sudden urge to put on a clip-on bow tie over your collar, I don’t want to see it unless you are writing down my order at Cuisine de ____¬ (fill it in).