Trouble in McDonaldland

Memo to: Mayor McCheese; Mayor of McDonaldland
From: Ignatius Counts, Lead Urban Consultant, Urban Industries Enterprises

Mr. Mayor:

Six months ago, per your guidance and direction, Urban Industry Enterprises (hereafter referred to as UIE) was contracted by the Office of the Mayor to complete a thorough, strategic review of McDonaldland, its surrounding suburbs and exurbs, focusing almost exclusively on its infrastructure, public works, crime prevention, fire and safety, education and general well-being. Following is the full report from UIE.

The Office of the Mayor

Beginning with the the highest office in McDonaldland, or, the "land," we have found that the office of the Mayor appears to be little more than a sham at best or, at worst, a front for perhaps a more nefarious organization. Bluntly, Mr. Mayor, you may be the most incompetent, bumbling civic leader we have had the privilege to meet. Your style of dress alone is worthy of a separate memo--the top hat, sash and pince-nez all seem a bit dated, unnecessary and irrelevant to the duties of a mayor. Your lack of leadership, were it not so dangerous and misguided, might be perceived as comical. You offer no guidance, no rules at all, for that matter under which the town can operate.

Crime

The land seems to be riddled with crime under the leadership of two principles: the Hamburglar and Captain Crook. Fortunately, these two reprobates appear to be largely inept (the Hamburglar, for his part is also unintelligible), limiting their misdemeanor and felonious activities to the theft of hamburgers and Filet-O-Fish sandwiches, respectively. It is also fortunate that a third crime ringleader, the Grimace, has apparently been rehabilitated and cured of his compulsion to steal milkshakes and ice-cold Coca-Colas.

However, the chief law enforcement officer of McDonaldland, Officer Big Mac, is challenged at all times to keep the Hamburglar and Crook in their proper place--namely, prison. The two arch criminals are elusive and, because Officer Mac appears to be the sole form of law enforcement, his hands are full. UIE recommends expanding your police force and filling its ranks with well-trained, competent officers, not oversize, cyclopean figures with enormous cheeseburgers for heads.

Education

It would appear that the Fry Kids are receiving less than an ideal education. The only teacher, or instructor, as it were, in all of McDonaldland--"The Professor"--appears to be little more than a so-called mad scientist in a lab coat. It is unclear where or how, he received his teaching credentials, if at all.

The One True Leader

Mr. Mayor, our report sadly concludes that you have squandered every opportunity to show great leadership and set the tone for a law-abiding, well-informed, educated and nutritionally correct citizenry. Instead, it would appear that you have left the town in the hands--and at the mercy--of a clown. Indeed, it is this fiery-haired red headed man with the oversize shoes who shows the most leadership, levelheadedness and calm (despite his proclivity to lead children toward an unhealthy diet).

It is our recommendation that you resign from office immediately and allow the government of McDonaldland to run its true course--namely, becoming a monarchy under the stewardship of Mr. R. McDonald.

Sincerely,

Ignatius Counts
UIE

Some Things I've Learned (in my 102 years on this planet)

• You cannot judge a person by his or her religious beliefs. Unless that person is Tom Cruise.
• Always carry some breath mints so you can politely offer one to the man on the subway with the buzzard-killing halitosis.
• No matter how many times you try, it's just not worth arguing with crazy people.
• Hand sanitizing lotion is not only a fantastic idea, it makes a great booze-gel in a pinch.
• The time it takes to find a parking space directly correlates with the distance you will park from your destination and the more open spaces you will find during your walk toward that destination.
• Two things will never go out of style: Burma-Shave signs and the Lindy Hop.
• Despite what you might think, most of you are not very good drivers.
• Of all the things I'll miss as the twenty-first century drags on, I think local book stores will be the most conspicuous.
• Ask anyone from my age group: Whatever it is you need, you can find it "on the computer."
• You cannot judge a person by their talent or intelligence (or lack of it). Unless that person is Tom Cruise.
  

On the Magazine Shelf

According to the American Magazine Association of America*, more than 15 new magazine titles appear per year**. The following are some we're looking forward to seeing:

Selfless--The magazine for practicing Buddhists.
Vague--For the barely fashionably aware.
Timeless--A bunch of articles on where your tax dollars are spent and reality TV.
Rage--For the angry man (lots of ads for Red Bull and Hummers).
OverIndulged--The magazine for people who will always be richer than you.
Better Than You--An offshoot of OverIndulged.
Overpaid Skanks--This month's issue: Brittany vs. Lindsay
Slack--We'll get around to publishing our inaugural issue. Eventually.
Procrastination Today (Maybe Tomorrow)--Publication date unknown (offshoot of Slack).
Modern Blowhard--This month's issue: Glenn Beck vs. Rush Limbaugh
American Dumbass--Mostly pictures, very few editorials.
Bad Driver! Text, drink coffee and chat -- all while mainting 80 MPH.
Road and Sky
Modern Kazoo Player
Laundry Today!--Not just a periodical (this week's lead piece: Removing Nasty Vomit Stains-- We're Not Judging)
Cave Sluts--A cross between National Geographic and Hustler
Modern Liberal Guilt Quarterly--This quarter's guest editor: Ralph Nader with "You're Still Driving that Gas-Guzzling Death Machine?"
American Shyster--Giving the term "ambulance chaser" a better spin
Fake--the definitive monthly guide to insurance fraud.
Red Meat Republicans--Eating beef and kicking ass.
Screechy Shrill Liberals--We won and we're still whining.
God damn Independents--Middle of the road, indecisive, unpredictable freaks

* This is a made-up organization
** This is a made-up statistic.

How to write a blog (Part 2)

You may recall Uncle Moe's last column on how to write a blog. Some of you are still a little confused as to what a blog is and what it allows you to get away with. Spelling errors? You bet! Grammar? What are grammar? Details like .... oh ... facts to back up your argument? Who needs 'em?

Let's get into some tips for the serious blogger:

Make sure you confuse the words "ensure" and "insure."

To sound a little more erudite, use phrases and terms such as "in order to", "in terms of", "leverage" (as a verb), "due to the fact that", "vis-a-vis" and "inasmuch". This is especially helpful if you are writing a business blog. Also be sure to use words that, up until recently, did not exist or have been appropriated from their proper use such as "impactful" and "empower".

Use lots of "unnecessary" quotation "marks." This lets your readers know that you are "thinking" of "them" and gives your blog a little irony. Or "irony."

The passive voice should be employed as frequently as possible. This insures (see that?) that the author is respected and the piece is given an academic tone.

Include lots of pictures of your pets and family.

Let's talk a little more about "due to the fact that" and "despite the fact that." Under no circumstances should the words "because" or "even though" (respectively) be substituted. It's just too pedestrian.

Include pointless links.

Finally, and perhaps most important: This is your blog and this is America--you can say whatever you want, within reason. For example, if I want to call U.S. Rep John Boehner (R-Ohio), a chain-smoking, red-faced, rabble-rousing schmuck with an anger management problem, it's perfectly within my rights to do so. Or if I feel like saying that Glenn Beck is a bloated, loudmouthed, reactionary borderline psychotic racist, I may. I can also say that I think the Black-Eyed Peas just might be the most overrated, under-talented (and subsequently, worst) band of the decade, and the only recrimination I may suffer will be the wrath of their microcephalous fans.

Happy blogging, all!

Projects That Martin Scorsese Turned Down

Mean Sidewalks: A day in the life of a group of suburban neighborhood toughs all aged 10 and under.

Buggy Driver: A gritty look at the life of an Amish cab driver as he goes to the brink and contemplates using an electric toaster.

Dumbfellas: Description not available at press time but was set to star Jim Carrey and Jerry Lewis.

The Gangs of New Bedford: A historical (and gritty) look at some of the tougher neighborhood battles in an otherwise quiet suburb in New Hampshire.

Fatfellas: Description not available at press time but apparently the catering budget was largely responsible for tanking this picture.

Mama, I Really Love Your Lasagna but Marie is My Wife: Paulie, a hardworking young man from Brooklyn, tries to shake loose from his mother's apron strings with hilarious results.

The Deeply Departed: A gang from the Bronx is forced to keep digging up and relocating bodies they buried in the 60s thanks to new neighborhood and business developments that keep cropping up all over the area.

The Priest: A young man is forced to choose between gang life and the priesthood with hilarious results.

I Shot That Son of a Bitch Three Times in the Head Just Like He Deserved: Description not available at press time.

Raging Mule (aka The Jackass): Set to star Ben Stiller.

The Last Temptation of Christ II: Jesus sets up a retail business and has three kids with Mary Magdalene. With hilarious results.

The Don and the Bobby Soxer: A mafia leader in 1950s Brooklyn is forced to choose between his Family (and the life) and a cute teenager who falls in love with him (and his Sinatra-like voice).

Insect Heaven/Insect Hell

According to my older son, some bugs go to insect Heaven while others are doomed to insect Hell. A non-exhaustive list for each:

Insect Heaven

Bumble Bees
Butterflies
Praying Mantis
Some spiders (The really cool-looking ones, but venomous ones must give up the venom before entering the kingdom)
Grasshoppers
Ladybugs
Those little black bugs that look like rhinoceroses
Fireflies
Crickets--as long as they don't hang out in my doorway and panic (this actually happened at 5 a.m. and it took me, like, 15 minutes to figure out what in tarnation was going on and usher him safely outside.)
Some moths--at least the really colorful, exotic ones; others on a case-by-case basis
Woolly caterpillars
Dragonflies
Pill bugs
Earth worms --everyone needs bait on heaven. Plus you don't know the quality of the soil up there.
Inch worms

Insect Hell

Cockroaches
Water bugs
Flies
Gnats
Mosquitoes -- especially mosquitoes ... I hate them! I HATE them! I HATE them! They must all be destroyed!
Fruit flies ... just about any type of fly for that matter ... so let's start with maggots
Wasps
Hornets--May be allowed into insect heaven if they agree to remove their stingers
Ticks
Fleas
Stink bugs
Dung beetles--sorry fellas, nothing personal; it's your diet.
Most ants -- again, not a bad insect; they just tend to infest a house and ruin a good picnic--at least in books
Lice
Termites

Feel free to add your own ...

Lesser Known Hitchcock Films

Alektorophobia (1950) A man with a deep fear of chickens is kidnapped and forced to sit in a chicken coop, eat a bucket of KFC and sleep on a bed of chicken feathers.

Roberta (1941) The new wife of an eccentric country gentleman is forced to choose between him and her unnatural love of sheepdogs.

The Post Mortem Puppeteer (1948) An aging, widowed mortician, bored with his dreary existence, decides to take up a new hobby by dressing up his corpses in various costumes and staging "human marionette" shows. Starring Vincent Price.

Pure Sleezeball (1947) Claude Rains plays a callous, cruel, indifferent, child-abusing, philandering, homicidal spy master bent on taking over his father-in-law's canning factory. Farley Granger must stop him before the factory becomes a haven of sin and evil.

The Turtles (1963) A small town is overrun by thousands of turtles large and small. Admittedly not as suspenseful as The Birds.

South By Northeast ( 1955) A man with a terrible sense of direction is framed for murder, bigamy and operating a sno-cone stand without a license.

Normal (1961) Perhaps Hitchcock's most puzzling (and shortest) work. A man with absolutely nothing wrong with him leads a quiet and happy life with his wife and two children.

Your Letters

It's that time again when we answer our readers' mail. Let's get right to it.

From Caspar in Ohio: "Why don't you get off your duff and get a job or something?"

Oh, Caspar, you slay me. First of all, Uncle Moe is 102 years old. He's been retired for years. I can't remember the last time I drew a paycheck. Between my ample social security benefits and checks from my 128-year-old mother, I don't need to work. That's why I blog. (But I put up some ads just in case.)

From Joe in Detroit: "Dear Uncle Moe: Is it true that if you dream you die, you will really die?"

Joe: Not only is it true, it's dangerous. Please, kids, if you insist on dreaming about hazardous stunts and risky behavior, shake yourselves awake before you get to the so-called final destination!

From Millie in Minnesota: "Why are all your letters from the Midwest?"

Millie: If I may answer that question with a question, why are all my readers from the Midwest?

From Mike in Philadelphia: "You think you're so smart and clever. I think you're a fraud. (P.S. I am not from the Midwest.)"

Milk: I am neither smart nor clever. It's just that everyone else is so stupid.

From Amber in Kalamazoo: "What's the best way to get blood stains out of a brand new blouse?"

Amber: If you have blood stains on your blouse, your biggest problem is probably not laundry. OK, I got that from Seinfeld. Seriously, get to an emergency room.

From Ted in Miami: "Uncle Moe, is that your real name?"

Ted, please feel free to call me Mister Uncle Moe.

From Andrea in Scarsdale: "Mister Uncle Moe, my boyfriend and I fight all the time. He is always complaining that I am selfish and shallow. He also says I don't treat him with respect when in fact I show him the utmost courtesy and deepest respect. I try to remind him that he is always deep and first in my thoughts but he only wants to believe what he wants to believe. What should I do?"

Dear Andrea: When it comes to matters of the heart, you have come to the right man. I personally have had seven successful marriages (eight if you count that quickie wedding to the pole vaulter in Jersey). If you want to manage your relationship, you have to take charge. Show him how much you care by catering to his every need. Cook him a wonderful dinner, clean up afterwards and then show him a good time in the bedroom. Then vacuum his car, polish his shoes and maybe give him a little spending money. In other words, spoil him. Trust me, if he's anything like me he will melt in your arms. Listen, if it doesn't work out, send me a photo of you and your phone number. We can maybe work on a solution together.

From Ralph in Saigon: "Uncle Moe--Is it appropriate for an atheist to say 'Oh, my God'?"

Good question, Ralph.

Our Distinguished Panel

We are pleased this year to offer an array of luminaries on our panel from academia and business who will share their insights and acumen with you. Today's panelists are:

Barry Eikwidth--Dr. Ekiwidth is professor of forensics at University of Illinois. He has been a teacher, lecturer and self-proclaimed lady killer since 1982. He received a BS in Irritating People from Harvard and a Masters in Smugness from Yale. Spell check often wants to correct Dr. Eikwidth's name with the words "awkward" and "width."

Cheryl S. Blanton--Ms. Blanton is the CEO of Blanton Enterprises LLC. We have absolutely no idea what they do. As far as we can tell, they don't manufacture anything, offer no services and pay no taxes. Ms. Blanton is currently under indictment.

F. Scott Murray Adenson--Besides having four names, Mr. Adenson also is the proud owner of four mobile homes, three of them his vacation homes. When he's not judging beauty contests, Mr. Adenson can be found lounging at his above-ground pool or competing in slot car races.

Jan Skanderfly--We don't know if Jan is a man or woman but we're going with man for now. We're pretty sure, anyway. Jan is the executive VP of Tandem Inc., which has nothing to do with bicycles built for two. Mr. (Ms.?) Skanderfly has a BS in Economics from Stanford and enjoys the smell of linseed oil.

Edward Scarsdale--Just a lazy bastard. He doesn't deserve to be on this panel. How he ever got anywhere is beyond us. We're stymied.

David Fleawhotten--We did not make that name up. Dr. Fleawhotten (it's pronounced just like it's spelled) is a highly respected neurosurgeon, author, inventor, columnist, sideshow performer, bassoon player, department store Santa and narcoleptic. His published works include Juarez on Ten Cents a Day, Neurology: It Actually IS Brain Surgery, and the popular children's book on coping with divorce, Mommy Just Doesn't Love You Anymore.

Regina Upington--Ms. Upington is the founder, president and chairman of Gobble, the people who brought you Turkey-in-a-Jar and Mumbo, the freeze dried mung bean (now available in convenient extra large servings --"Mumbo Jumbo"). Ms. Upington is the recent recipient of the Glasdow prize, a prestigious honor awarded each year to the richest woman with the most chins. She would like to dedicate her performance tonight to the memory of Millard Fillmore. She also highly recommends her products for Creole cooking (Jumbo Mumbo Gumbo).

How to Write a Blog

First, pick a topic. (Actually, first, get a blog name and site and all that.) Make sure it's a topic you care deeply about--celebrity breast implants, long haired cats, great tuba players or underrated AL infielders--the field is wide open.

Next, write about that topic. Feel free to ignore the conventions of syntax, punctuation, spelling or grammar. Incomplete sentences? Fine. So is disagreements.

Keep writing. Your well on you're way! (Notice how I mixed up the possessive "your" and the conjunction "you're"? Neat, huh?)

Spread the word. Tell people about your blog. If you email them, make sure you essentially repeat everything from your latest post. If you post a link on your Facebook page, make sure you have a clever header, like, "Read my blog!" or "Have you read my blog?"

Encourage people to leave comments, no matter how filthy, nasty, random or immaterial. Here's a recent comment from my blog: "Did you know that you can get Cialis and Viagra cheaper? We have a whole drug store a click away!"

Respond to comments. Don't pander but if someone leaves a particularly salient point, try to respond with an equally witty rejoinder. Here's an example. I recently received a comment on my blog that said, "This is the third notice that your library books are overdue. We have no recourse but to suspend your lending privileges and ask that you return the titles or remunerate the library the costs of the titles." I responded: "Thanks for your note. I love hearing from my readers!" (Note how I did not pander.)

Finally, keep writing. Even if you go "off topic" and start veering off onto how Aunt Marge broke her hip, the poor dear and, well, frankly it's a miracle she's lasted this long ... well, it's still content and that's what matters!

Blog on bloggers!

America's Celebrity Shortage

With the recent deaths of Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett, Michael Jackson, Walter Cronkite, Karl Malden, Pat Hingle, Billy Mays, Les Paul and now Sen. Ted Kennedy and Dominick Dunne, America is facing a crisis unlike one it has ever seen before: a serious shortage of celebrities. This crisis is showing no signs of abating. The grim reaper has had a busy season indeed. If this trend continues, there is much speculation that we will have to begin importing celebrities from such far flung places as France, Italy, Russia and -- gasp -- India (we understand that Bollywood is gaining fast traction on our own celebrity culture).

What will that mean in terms of our celebrity economy? It may translate to higher costs for us. The price of importing just one major star from France of the caliber of, say, Jean Reno could cost each American as much as 12 Euros. That's more than US$17. That may not sound like much, but over the course of any young or middle aged celebrity's life expectancy, those costs add up. And that's only for one! Imagine if we import a dozen or more. (Perhaps we could get a bulk discount).

Another disadvantage of celebrity importation is twofold. On one hand, of course, is the possible culture shock that we as a nation will suffer by having Russian rock stars parading around. It will be difficult, at best to become acclimated to the news of members of Grazhdanskaya Oborona trashing a hotel room or its lead singer OD-ing in his girlfriend's apartment on the Upper West Side. It simply won't give us the same secret thrill; it's potency will be lost. The second prong of this two-part conundrum is that the imported celebrity themselves will be spread a bit thin. And we, as Americans, just aren't used to sharing.

Of course I realize that we are already importing several celebrities and have been for years. Among them: David Beckham, Ozzy Osbourne, Sacha Baron Cohen, Craig Furgeson, Heidi Klum and Rush Limbaugh. But these folks are already ingrained into the American culture. We have no time or resources for re-training new celebrities.

But we must remember to refrain from panicking. New stars are born every day. And with the advent of social networking, blogging, reality TV and self-publishing, you could be our big star. So have faith, keep your opinions floating on the Web and in chat rooms and that call may come.

Somewhere I Have Never Travelled

I've traveled all over. I've been everyplace. Except Africa. And the Antarctic. Also Ireland. And Scotland. Nor have I been to Spain, Portugal, Germany, Switzerland or the Netherlands. Also have not been to Mexico--Christ, it's even connected to my country. While we're at it, I have never once visited a South or Central American country. Not one. Russia? Nyet. Israel? Lo. Not to mention Japan, China, India, Cuba, Iceland, Poland or Egypt, Morocco or Belgium.

But I have been all over this great land of ours (not to mention parts of Europe). Yes, I have been to California, North Carolina, Texas, Florida, Nevada, New Mexico, Arizona, and most of the contiguous states. And I have also been to Canada, our fifty-first state! Truth is, it's really hard to get out of the house. What with my aching back and so many chores. Send donations. I'll get out more.

Great Mob Nicknames, Part 2

I suppose beyond "Buttons," another appropriate mob nickname for me would be Knuckles, though it seems a bit shopworn. However, I happen to have a proclivity for cutting, scraping or otherwise injuring my knuckles. (And it goes without saying that I am not a classic knuckle-scraper as most mobsters are portrayed in cliche movies, books and other media.)

At one given time, I nearly had a scrape on every single knuckle of my hands. Three were from hitting a heavy bag without proper protection. I had wrapped them (that's only to protect the wrists). There were no gloves around and I foolhardily believed that the wraps would be sufficient protection for my delicate little hands. Unfortunately, I was proved wrong in a glaring, conspicuous way. I had scraped off enough layers of skin to produce blood.

Shortly after my bad decision to hit a heavy bag without gloves, I was thrown from my bike thanks to a neglectful driver who opened his door on me while I was traveling at a relatively high rate of speed. Said driver did not look but flung the door open, causing me to crash into his open car door and flinging me hard, crashing down to the street, taking a pair of handlebars into my chest plate like a small but powerful fist. (I went to the emergency room later to ensure that I had not fractured my sternum or broken a rib.) (Another side note here--I hit his car door so hard, he was unable to close it, forcing him to be towed. Instant justice, folks.) Initially, I thought I had broken my right ring finger. I was indeed fortunate, for I had only slammed it into the door, causing some bleeding and a temporary loss of its use.

That's four knuckles down. Shortly after the bike accident, I cut another knuckle slicing cucumbers and whipped some blood from yet another while attempting to change a guitar string. The thing just flew off the fret and sliced hard into my thumb, taking a bite of the dermis in the process.

The lesson? It's a dangerous world. Protect your hands.

Great Mob Nicknames, Part 1

If I were a member of the Mob--and I assure you Uncle Moe is not (and even if he were, he wouldn't tell you)--I think my nickname would be "Pockets." I utilize every pocket I have. I believe this is why the sport coat was invented. It's for the gentleman with ... a lot of stuff to carry. The older I get, it seems the more pockets I need.

Here's a list of the things I had tucked into my pockets today (and the various pockets used), just to meet a friend for lunch:

• Eyeglasses (outside upper jacket pocket--up until now rarely if ever used)
• Wallet (inner jacket pocket)
• Mobile phone (inner jacket pocket)
• One broken pair of sunglasses (shirt pocket)*
• Receipt for broken sunglasses (inner jacket pocket)*
• Checkbook (to pay for return of broken glasses--don't ask--inner jacket pocket)*
• Keys (front pants pocket)
• Lip balm (front pants pocket)
• Pen (front pants pocket)
• iPod (jacket hip pocket)
• Journal (jacket hip pocket)

I still had three pockets free, including the Levi's extra mini-pocket tucked into the right pocket of my jeans.

Some have argued that I need a "man bag." And I admit to occasionally sporting a small knapsack or courier bag to carry all my extra stuff. The truth is I don't really like carrying all this stuff around but I just like to be prepared.


* Typically not part of my daily schlep, and I didn't make it to the Post Office to return them after all.

Ads!

If you are a regular follower of this blog, then you have certainly noticed some recent changes (a new look among them). Perhaps most conspicuous of these changes are the ads. Some may argue that I've sold out. Some may say that I'm simply a practitioner of the times--merely following my entrepreneurial spirit to make some lucre from my hard work and limited time. But they are missing the forest for the trees. In what may be some calculated, cruel joke, it appears that Google saved its best ads for me. Where else can you find links to the best remedies for foot odor and feminine hygiene products? Clearly, they know my audience, my demographics and my content. No ads would be more appropriate.

A New Look

It's a sure sign that I have little in the way of fodder for a fresh post when I spend more time redesigning the look of my blog than actually writing it. All the same, here it is in all its splendor--the brand new look for The Art of Jaywalking.

Rest assured fan(s) that we have not lost any of the solid, entertaining, informative content to which you have become accustomed. Quite the contrary. I believe you'll find the new look rather lends itself to our easy, folksy and ingenious style of prose.

And so welcome back dear friends (and a fresh welcome to new ones). Please take some time to peruse older posts. I think you'll agree they take on a fresh perspective and new light under our new redesign. They might even make more sense or seem to carry an air of resonance and import.

Dante Was Wrong

Hell looks nothing like classical literature and biblical verse have portrayed it. First of all, it is not hot at all. On the contrary, it is quite cold. Not Arctic, freezing cold, which would actually hold hope for winter fun and frolic (there's not a whole lot of sledding, skiing, snowshoeing, snowman building or ice fishing in Hell). No, it's just cold enough to bother you. And it's constantly raining, Pelting little frozen rain drops that sting your eyes. The wind blows hard enough to skirt under your umbrella (if you're lucky enough to have one) and get your pants and shoes wet. And because it's constantly raining, your clothes never dry out. It kills your good temperament. All you want to do is get out of the rain. But you can't. There isn't even an awning in sight. As a matter of fact, a warm fire would be a welcome sight in Hell. Inferno, indeed.

Napsomnia

If you have trouble sleeping, we have a word for it. But what if you have trouble falling asleep when you're trying to take a nap? Does that still count as insomnia? Naps are a luxury. So if you can't fall asleep when attempting one, it's as if you didn't deserve it in the first place.

I couldn't fall asleep a couple weeks ago when I was trying to take a nap. I chalked it up to bad luck, restlessness and general creeps. But was it insomnia? I suppose if you can't sleep at all and you go, say, four or five days without sleep (or without much, anyway) and you try to take a nap but fail, that could be considered insomnia. But I'm spoiled.

Evidently, as a society, we are severely underslept. Scientists blame continuous light, our work habits and the general 24 hour society we've become. Other scientists predict a stronger race of humans down the evolutionary line that will require far less sleep, if any at all. Possibly, but they'll miss out on all those delicious naps.