CHuck CARROLL

 After a frigid childhood near Chicago, Chuck attended a pastoral high school in the warm valleys outside San Francisco. Practiced storytelling, hot rodding and exaggeration. Off to small college in NH followed by active duty near Tacoma WA as Battalion Staff Officer. Opened a motorcycle dealership in Calif. Went on to slay the two-headed dragon of confusion and inertia to change people’s behavior–AKA corporate sales. Retired as Y2K Evangelist. Chuck is a tuba player, vintner, satirist and armchair anthropologist. He is a high risk/high reward Seeker/Innovator. His mission is to motivate folks to write down their experiences for the amazement of their future generations. 

In 2012 Hostess Brands–baker of Wonder Bread and Twinkies–ceased production. But wait! After a buyout Twinkies returned on July 15, 2013. Whew, that was close.

Twinkies moist, crème-filled cake was the perfect food. So good, we’d lick the cardboard for the last morsel. And easier to handle than those sloppy Suzy Q’s. This all goes back a way.

1930 Twinkies were invented in Illinois.

1955 I used my lunch money to buy cigarettes. Survived on Twinkies and surplus Illinois chocolate milk at only a penny per carton.

1956-60 During high school in California I never once ate lunch in the cafeteria. Instead, bought BBQ chips, chocolate milk and Twinkies and walked the halls. I ate over 1,000 Twinkies, which doubtless explains my current youthful appearance.

1964 At my college Hostess Twinkies were known as “white man soul food.”

Late 60’s Nothing like a dozen Twinkies to cure The Munchies. Bolder girls seductively pretended to "smoke" their Twinkies, like fat stubby cigars or something.

1971 When San Francisco Columnist Herb Caen asked for ethnic WASP traditions, I wrote him that “Hostess Twinkies are WASP soul food.” He published that along with my name.

1972 Dialogue when Sammy Davis Jr. visited All in The Family.

[Season 2, Episode 21, First aired 2/19/72]

Archie: (speaking to Edith) Open up a fresh box of Twinkies for Mr. Davis.

Sammy Davis, Jr.: Twinkies?

Michael: Yeah. Kind of a WASP soul food.

1978 Deranged ex-SF cop and baked potato vendor Dan White murdered SF mayor George Moscone and gay supervisor Harvey Milk. White claimed diminished capacity due to gorging on sugary snack foods. Thus, was born the “Twinkie Defense.”

19?? Jerry Garcia–famed lead guitarist for The Grateful Dead:

“Hey, my chest feels kinda tight. F**k it, pass me a Twinkie”

1995 Rice University tests Twinkies and publish results as The Twinkies Project.

1995 Jerry Garcia died in drug rehab.  One of his addictions was said to be Twinkies.

2010 Twinkie diet. College professor Mark Haub went on a diet consisting mainly of Twinkies, Oreos, and Doritos in an attempt to demonstrate to his students "for weight loss, pure calorie counting is what matters–not the nutritional value of the food". He lost 27 pounds in 2 months but did not shoot anyone.

Finally, Deep-fried Twinkies. A deep-fried Twinkie involves freezing the cake, dipping it into batter, and deep-frying it to create a variation on the traditional snack cake. "Something magical occurs when the pastry hits the hot oil. The creamy white vegetable shortening filling liquefies, impregnating the sponge cake with its luscious vanilla flavor. The cake itself softens and warms, nearly melting, contrasting with the crisp, deep-fried crust in a buttery and suave way. The pièce de résistance, however, is a ruby-hued berry sauce, adding a tart sophistication to all that airy sugary goodness." [NY Times] Fried Twinkies are sold at fairs as well as ball games.    

I need some, now.How to Survive Your College Reunion

By Chuck Carroll

Most of us approach our college reunions with a mixture of curiosity and dread.  We want to learn what happened to everyone else, but we are concerned about measuring up.  Did we accomplish enough?  Are we still witty and pretty, etc.? 

The experience can be quite pleasant if you develop a Game Plan. Let us segment the task into Expectation Setting, Pre-Reunion Communication and Handling the Event itself.

Expectation Setting. Reunion reality dictates that at least one classmate will have earned serious money, one will be really famous, one will look like Richard Gere and/or Britney on a really good day.  You cannot compete with this, so lower your expectations.

Pre-Reunion communications are best handled electronically. First, put up a simple web site.  It has three parts, your picture, a list of your undergraduate activities and your Cause Celêbre.

Use a PC tool to make your face look wider.  Then, during the reunion, you will get complements on “how much better you look in person.”  Write a page on your unique experiences at school.  Spin your story.  Turn hiding out in the Chess Club into “Mittyesque adventures with team of fellow intellectuals.” Clotheshorse behavior in the sorority becomes “developed lifelong love of costume and design.”  Put it all in there.

Your pet cause can be real, or one adopted for the occasion.  Select one with cute pictures.  Save the Ducks is superior to Save the Rats.  Advise classmates that this ‘saving’ should be a class project.

Do NOT post on your web site: your resume, pictures of grandchildren, dog or boat, pleas for financial assistance, or anything you have done since college.  Remember reunions are all about surviving a few days of looking backwards.

Once your web site is done, mass email the URL to all your classmates. Tell them how thrilled they might be to check your site and see if they are mentioned.

Handling the Event. Go on time, leave early and take plenty of Time Outs.  If you cannot stay in the expensive hotel at the corner of campus, take micro-naps in bathroom stalls.  

Drinking seems to be the principal pastime at reunions.  Practice at home as often as possible.  Learn to tell short, self-deprecating stories.

At the event greet people by simultaneously deciphering their nametag and asking, “Did you see my web site?”  Regardless of their answer, ask their position on Saving the Ducks.  They will ignore you and yammer on about their grandchildren.

You have just survived the Ideal Reunion Encounter. Repeat as needed.

There will be meetings. These are great chances to make witty remarks to a captive, if hungover, audience. The first meeting will deal with the Middle East.  Professors and other experts will round table an articulate game of Ain’t It Awful.  These folks will bring back fond memories of sitting in class when you could have been on a road trip. About halfway through you will realize that behind their eloquent phrases they haven’t got a clue. Start a whispering contest in the audience with funny comments about their hand-wringing platitudes.

Skip all other meetings. Their only purpose will be to honor seven figure contributors to the Alumni Fund.

Fill your time with campus explorations. If you have gray hair, you can go anywhere. Go right into the President’s house. Even if he/she calls the campus police, you will be treated with kid gloves. No one wants to bruise a potential contributor to the Alumni Fund.

As you pack to leave early, you will have many fond memories. People you thought were Snobs are only chronically depressed at not getting into Harvard. The still-employed are jealous of the Idle Retirees. The retired folks obsess over which stores have Double Coupon Days and when. The Frat Boys are still fratting. The Sorority Sisters are still gloating. You have survived with your own Reunion Game Plan. 

Why Trump Got Elected

A few years back I found the government weirdly self-serving. So I wrote a satirical

summary, “Understanding Your New Government”. Now it seems I stumbled onto the

problems Trump has begun to fix. Here it is:

Understanding Your New Government

Your government is new and improved for 2010. A child or grandchildren may ask you

to explain our wonderful new system. Here is a primer.

The Federal Government has three official branches:

1. Executive. This is the Office of Symbolism and Rhetoric. It is tailored to the

Twitterific voters, who can only handle fleeting pictures and micro-factoids. Since this

group is easily confused, all decisions are made behind closed doors. This is called

Transparency. The Chief Executive lives in a symbolically pure “White” House. He has

changed his anthem from Hail to the Chief to The Great Pretender. He was an adequate

law school professor.

2. Legislative. There are two bodies. The first is the House of Union Supporters. Their

task is to rubber stamp the cow-towing to labor unions done by the Office of Symbolism

and Rhetoric. Most members are failed businesspeople.

The second body is the Senate of Trial Lawyer Obsequiousness. It is charged with

protecting trial lawyers from any and all income reductions. All members in this Senate

are failed trial lawyers.

3. Judicial. This branch is the repository of Politically Correct Appointments. Their most

important duty is to pose for a group picture each October. All members are judges who

previously got appointed somewhere else.

4. The unofficial fourth branch of government is The Media. Extremely powerful, this is

CNN and iTunes.

There are several sub-branches worth noting:

>  Department of Military Reaction. Its job is never-ending combat against a handful of

Muslim Jihadists, who--in turn--derive auto-erotic pleasure from reliving the Crusades on

their Game Boys.

> Department of Military Procurement. Its job is letting huge contracts for weapons

systems no one wants but that are manufactured in states whose incumbents are behind in

the polls.

>  Department of New World Order. Made up of the kindest and gentlest State

Department veterans, its sole function is supporting every whim of the United Nations.

> Department of the Treasury. Its job is keeping our major lender happy. That is why the

current Treasury Secretary majored in Chinese Culture and even speaks Mandarin. Way

to go!

>  Department of Dependency. This secret department has agents throughout the

government. Its charter is to annually increase the percentage of American citizens who

depend on government programs to survive. This department has enhanced its results by

importing “clients” (their name for non-working humans) from poor countries south of

the United States.

There you have it. This should help any young relative or friend comprehend our Brave

New World.

Chuck Carroll 2010

If I were King of the United States, I would

1. Require all citizens and legal alien residents to be able to understand my proclamations. These would be issued in Standard American English, our official language. This would also allow citizens to talk to each other.
2. Eliminate our growing Tower of Babel—no more ESL classes, voting materials in other languages or Spanish language TV stations.

EDUCATION

3.      Set minimal national standards for high school graduation, including 

* Understanding the Constitution and Bill of Right

.* Understanding our Free Enterprise system, including ownership rights, capital formation, market theory, creative destruction, Freedom to Succeed or Fail, and the teachings of Milton Friedma

n.* *Understanding American Exceptionalism.

 *Understanding of newly instituted values. Including individual responsibilities to their King and themselves, right and wrong, manners, seemly behavior and the personal and societal costs of certain behaviors. Most importantly unwed motherhood.

*Require everyone to graduate from high school.

4         Require "'Truth in College Education. " All colleges must publish statistics on job placement of graduates by major. Such statistics would include graduation rates, employment rates and median annual earnings one year and five years after graduation. Students would only be allowed to borrow college loans that could be paid back with no more the 20% of median income for that major within 5 years. Of course, this would mean that medical students would be able to borrow more than Gender Study Majors. So be it

.5.       Require refresher certification in the Constitution and Bill of Rights for all citizens every 5 years.

FAIRNESS

6.      Eliminate all laws favoring one group over another based on race, color, creed, national origin, gender or sexual orientation.

7.      Require a Flat Tax system without any special deductions for favored groups—so called "loopholes." Employed workers would not even need to file returns.

Everyone will pay some income tax. Excess CPA 's will be retrained.

8.      Repatriate the $1.0 Trillion that U. S corporations have sequestered overseas due to our repressive tax laws.

9.      Stop all lobbying effects whatsoever on any of our Federal Tax systems.

Lobbyists would still be free to speak to the Government, as guaranteed in the Constitution, but not to receive favorable tax treatment. [They may solicit grants, loan guarantees, gifts or other largesse. But no tax deals.]

10.      Promote—but not require—citizens to start charitable organizations to help those in need. Your King may even start some. There will be no tax advantage to such organizations.

FISCAL RESPONSIBILITY

11.      Allow maximum Federal taxes to be collected equal to 20% of the Gross Domestic Product. Only 3/4 of these taxes could be spent. The remaining 1/4 would be applied to debt reduction and funding long-term obligations.

12.       Fund of all future military operations outside the U.S. by surcharge on Federal Income Tax. If the voters rebel, no more military operations.

13.      Institute regulations to correct municipal malfeasance: national guidelines for all bond issues and public employee compensation and benefits, "'bonding" of elected officials who access purse strings, more jail time for the criminals at this level.

14.      Dismantle all public worker labor organization rights.

15.      Void all state and municipality pensions.

16.      Then rewrite all state and municipality pensions following the new rules above in 13 and 14, above.

17.      Fully fund any Federally mandated program for States or municipalities.

18.      Eliminate all legislation, regulation and funding for the Cult of Global Warming. This includes all grants, guarantees and tax credits for Green Energy schemes.

INDIVIDUAL RESPONSIBILITY

19.      Require that able-bodied men and women work. Those who are not able-bodied— and without relatives to sponge off of—will be cared for compassionately but at the lowest cost possible.

20.      Replace all low-cost housing projects with military style barracks. These would house The Unfortunate while they are retrained by our newly freed-up military.

21      Eliminate most other welfare, unemployment pay and "pity programs".

22.      Have incarcerated criminals serve much shorter sentences but with extremely hard work to support their prison costs. No more TV or air conditioning.

23.      Require health care costs to be the responsibility of the individual. Citizens will be urged to buy their own insurance. Each individual will also be insured by the Federal government which will pay for limited, specific care after the individual has spent $100,000 for care in his or her lifetime. All fees are to be posted at point of service delivery. Different fees for different classes of patients will not be allowed. Medical malpractice suits will no longer be allowed. Excess attorneys will be retrained as doctors.

24.      Require that retirement planning and funding be the responsibility of the individual.

NATIONAL SOVERINTY

25.      Seal our borders.

26.      Remove illegal immigrants. This would be done humanely through large cash grants to return them to their countries of origin. This would solve our unemployment problem and reduce bankruptcies of municipalities. Those immigrants needing political asylum would be relocated to the UN headquarters in New York City.

27.      Eliminate the H-IB program which allows low-cost foreign technology workers to displace citizens. Item 4 will provide plenty of U.S. citizens to do these jobs.

28.      After illegals are removed, borders are secure and unemployment is consistently under 4%, consider a short-stay guest worker program.

29.      Deport any resident alien or naturalized citizen who espouses following other than U.S. law in either criminal, tort or contract matters. Examples: World Court, UN and Sharia law. Such espousals are not Free Speech. They are insurrection.

ENERGY POLICY

1. Make coordinated changes in energy policy & military adventurism. This would be done in steps.

Step 1. Mine and extract "all of the above" energy sources for 20 years. Environmental controls are suspended for this period.

 Step 2. Fast track the construction of sufficient nuclear power plants of the latest and safest designs to provide 100% of our electricity needs 30 years in the future. This build out will be completed in 20 years.

 Step 3. Open the Yucca Mt-nuclear storage facility and use it immediately.

 Step 4. Modernize the power grid.

Step 5. Stop production of most electric vehicles. They are "net polluters" (after considering manufacturing, battery charging and scrapping) and nonsense except for use in high pollution areas, such as the Salt Lake City basin.

Step 6. Convert the U. S. trucking fleet to compressed natural gas.

 Step 7. After all the nuclear plants are online,

• Shut down older polluting power plants
• Reinstitute environmental controls on oil and gas production
• Bring our military home and repurpose it to
•        Guard our nuclear industry–power plants, fuel transportation, Yucca Mt.
•        Guard our borders 
•        Guard and train The Unfortunate (see 20, above), and 
•        Perform only those tasks specified in the Constitution

REPAIR FEDERAL GOVERNMENT

31.      Require Congress to follow its rules. The lack of a budget for three years is a national disgrace.

32.      Review all Executive Branch regulations. Goal is to eliminate 90% of them.

INVIGORATE AMERICA    

33.      Make the United States the absolute best place in the world to do business.

Chuck Carroll 2015

A friend once sent me a list of unanswerable thoughts and questions. It reminded me of the motto of my favorite Denver airport restaurant. “Life is Uncertain. Eat Dessert First.” It was French, had great desserts, and alas is gone.

Here the unanswerable thoughts and questions:

1. One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor....

2. Atheism is a non-prophet organization.

3. I went to a bookstore and asked the saleswoman, “where's the self-help section?' she said if she told me, it would defeat the purpose.

4. What if there were no hypothetical questions?

5. If someone with multiple personalities threatens to kill himself, is it considered a hostage situation?

6. Where do forest rangers go to 'get away from it all?'

7. What do you do when you see an endangered animal eating an endangered plant?

8. If a parsley farmer is sued, can they garnish his wages?

9. Why do they lock gas station bathrooms? Are they afraid someone will clean them?

10. If a turtle doesn't have a shell, is he homeless or naked?

11. Can vegetarians eat animal crackers?

12. If the police arrest a mime, do they tell him he has the right to remain silent?

13. Why do they put braille on the drive-through bank machines?

14. How do they get deer to cross the road only at those yellow road signs?

15. What was the best thing before sliced bread?

16. One nice thing about egotists: they don't talk about other people.

17. If one synchronized swimmer drowns, do the rest drown too?

18. If you ate both pasta and antipasto, would you still be hungry? 

19. If you try to fail, and succeed, which have you done?

20. Whose cruel idea was it for the word 'lisp' to have an 's' in it?

21. Why is it called tourist season if we can't shoot at them?

22. Why is there an expiration date on sour cream?

23. Can an atheist get insurance against acts of God?

24. Does the little mermaid wear an alge-bra?

But are these unanswerable? No way! Let’s show these questions who’s boss.

1. ONE TEQUILA, TWO TEQUILA, THREE TEQUILA, FLOOR....

Reminds me of teaching many people to overcome alcohol induced vertigo by “flying the bed” during the 60s. Compare James Thurber: “One martini is too many, three’s not enough.”

2. ATHEISM IS A NON-PROPHET ORGANIZATION.

Scratch an Atheist and find…a Solipsist. To paraphrase Walt Kelly, “We have met the Prophet & He is me.”

3. I WENT TO A BOOKSTORE AND ASKED THE SALESWOMAN, “WHERE'S THE SELF-HELP SECTION?' SHE SAID IF SHE TOLD ME, IT WOULD DEFEAT THE PURPOSE.

Ridiculous. A real man would never ask for directions.

4. WHAT IF THERE WERE NO HYPOTHETICAL QUESTIONS?

What if there were?

5. IF SOMEONE WITH MULTIPLE PERSONALITIES THREATENS TO KILL HIMSELF, IS IT CONSIDERED A HOSTAGE SITUATION?

Analogous situation: GI purposefully shoots self in foot to avoid combat. He is prosecuted for damaging government property.

6. WHERE DO FOREST RANGERS GO TO 'GET AWAY FROM IT ALL?'

I have read about this. They simply stay home but take off their uniforms. Any naked humans you see frolicking with bears are forest rangers on vacation.

7. WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN YOU SEE AN ENDANGERED ANIMAL EATING AN ENDANGERED PLANT?

Call CNN. They will send Al Gore to film this horrendous act.

8. IF A PARSLEY FARMER IS SUED, CAN THEY GARNISH HIS WAGES?

This recalls the old joke about the difference between parsley and… Sorry, too gross.

9. WHY DO THEY LOCK GAS STATION BATHROOMS? ARE THEY AFRAID SOMEONE WILL CLEAN THEM?

Obviously, yes. Part of the American travel experience is stinky restrooms.

10. IF A TURTLE DOESN'T HAVE A SHELL, IS HE HOMELESS OR NAKED?

Neither. He would be dead. Poor turtle. Call Al Gore again.

11. CAN VEGETARIANS EAT ANIMAL CRACKERS?

Only if they do not swallow.

12. IF THE POLICE ARREST A MIME, DO THEY TELL HIM HE HAS THE RIGHT TO REMAIN SILENT?

No. Police hate mimes as much as the rest of us. They simply pretend to whack the mime until he/she pretends to be knocked unconscious.

13. WHY DO THEY PUT BRAILLE ON THE DRIVE-THROUGH BANK MACHINES?

Have we not seen people driving like they are blind? 

Guess what. They are!

14. HOW DO THEY GET DEER TO CROSS THE ROAD ONLY AT THOSE YELLOW ROADSIGNS?

Due to deer collisions in my neighborhood, I have asked that the signs be removed.

15. WHAT WAS THE BEST THING BEFORE SLICED BREAD?

A sharp bread knife?

16. ONE NICE THING ABOUT EGOTISTS: THEY DON'T TALK ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE.

Not true. After initial self-indulgence, the polite egotist will say ‘Enough about me. Let’s talk about how I feel about you.”

17. IF ONE SYNCHRONIZED SWIMMER DROWNS, DO THE REST DROWN TOO?

Synchronized swimmers are drown-proofed by their alge-bras. (See #24, below.)

18. IF YOU ATE BOTH PASTA AND ANTIPASTO, WOULD YOU STILL BE HUNGRY?

Yes, unless you had Uncle Pasto for dessert. Remember, Life is Uncertain…

19. IF YOU TRY TO FAIL, AND SUCCEED, WHICH HAVE YOU DONE?

Most likely, nothing.

20. WHOSE CRUEL IDEA WAS IT FOR THE WORD 'LISP' TO HAVE AN 'S' IN IT?

A passive aggressive spitter.

21. WHY IS IT CALLED TOURIST SEASON IF WE CAN'T SHOOT AT THEM?

Are not tourists bagged in many of Carl Hiaasen’s Florida novels?

22. WHY IS THERE AN EXPIRATION DATE ON SOUR CREAM?

Some things go from bad to worse. Consider yogurt.

23. CAN AN ATHEIST GET INSURANCE AGAINST ACTS OF GOD?

No and seldom can anybody else.

24. DOES THE LITTLE MERMAID WEAR AN ALGE-BRA?

I went to Google on this one. The Little Mermaid wears a clamshell bra. Ouch.

This recalls Disney’s only topless foray. Below are Centaurettes from The Pastoral Symphony portion of Fantasia. 

 I was an Early Adopter of adventures that went on to become common  place. Here are a few examples of being ahead of the curve: 

As a toddler I identified with recalcitrant star of The Poky Little Puppy. Later, I  became famous as Procrastinus in high school Latin. “I’ll turn in my homework when I  feel like it!” Sounds like Gen Y, doesn’t it?

 In 1947 I was enraptured by a reading of Dr. Seuss’ And to Think That I Saw It on  Mulberry Street. I identified with the protagonist, whose story got better with each  retelling. So, I went on to tell stories, myself. 

• Once in the first grade, my daily story audience of 5 and 6 year-olds were so  mesmerized that we failed to return after lunch. Worried teachers found us in the  bushes as I held forth. 

• In the seventh grade, I found the suddenly attractive girls enjoyed my retelling of  off-color jokes. Sample from a dude range exchange: “I just saw a cowboy packing a  38’s.” “That’s nothing. I just saw a cowgirl go by with a pair of 44s!” Titter, titter. 

• I diffused many violent teenage situations with humorous quips and stories. Better a  punch line than a punch out. Eddie Murphy used this trick as a teenager. 

• I would buttonhole high school friends on the street to regale them with condensed  versions of The Canterbury Tales. 

• In the Army, I would amuse my colonel with personal anecdotes over coffee each morning. I discovered later that this kept me from being deployed to Viet Nam. 

• I used stories to win jobs and girlfriends, to close sales, even to understand the  Hierarchy of Knowledge. This is a universal field theory I developed in the early 90s. It  says that observed and recorded Nature becomes Data, when categorized becomes  Information, when interpreted becomes Knowledge, when interrelated becomes  Understanding, when contemplated becomes Wisdom, when lived becomes Godliness,  which ultimately leads to the ability to create Nature. (Yes, this will be on the test.) Identified with Ferdinand, The Bull who would rather lie under the cork trees than  fight. Escaped from a criminogenic Junior High in an Illinois factory town to a lily-white  California suburban high school experience. (Thanks for moving us, Pop.) I identified  with James Dean in Rebel Without a Cause. Began a life-long career as a dilettante and enthusiast. If there was something to do, I  tried it with gusto. Then I spun my experiences as entertainingly as possible. I  identified with George Plimpton and the hipsters in Kerouac’s On The Road. Or maybe  even Tom Hanks as Forest Gump. Partied in high school. After seeing Crazy Larry escape from the police cruiser into the  woods behind Carolyn Kelloway’s house, I identified with the Michael Cera character  in Superbad. Perfect four-year record of NEVER eating lunch in the high school cafeteria. Instead, I  patronized the walk-up window for junk food and strolled around, “eating street” as  they say in New York. Doubtless my youthful appearance is the result of consuming  over a thousand preservative-laced Hostess Twinkies. Read Elmtown’s Youth in high school. Milestone on journey from Good Methodist to  Anthropologist/Sociologist. Played in rock bands and MJQ cover quartet. Learned that fights at parties spared the  band. Identified with musicians in The Blues Brothers. Self-Reliance, Adolescent Style. Got high school student body to adopt a Code of  Conduct in return for new privileges. One such was sitting wherever one wanted in  the bimonthly school assemblies. So, every two weeks I stood in front of 1,200 kids  who politely listened to my updates. Without any adults in the auditorium! I pitched  this story at every college interview. No one had ever heard of such thing. It got me  admitted to schools in Portland, Berkeley, Claremont and Hanover. Off to a stretch choice college. Heretofore only for the privileged, I was one of first  regular folks to go. I identified with Richard Dreyfuss in American Graffiti. [Turned  out Dr. Seuss went there, too.] Bizarre college experiences. Example: waking up among plush curtains and plaster  columns in NYC. How did I end up in a photographer’s studio? I identified with the  protagonist in Dylan Thomas’ Adventures in the Skin Trade. More likely, I was creating  a character for Animal House. [As it happens, Animal House is based on events during  my freshman year at Dartmouth. I may have been the inspiration for D-Day, the  motorcyclist/ mechanic!] After graduating, I identified with Dustin Hoffman in The Graduate. Served my country yet avoided combat. What’s luck got to do with it? Maybe it was  the lesson from Ferdinand, The Bull. Partied with divorced beauticians and mail order  brides in the greater Tacoma area. Quit smoking in 1967 by exercising to the point of nausea before lunch each day.  (Thank God for handball.) Became anti-smoking zealot in the 70s, not allowing guests  to smoke in our home. Now France has quashed those stinky Gallouises in all public  places. Take that, Jean Paul Belmondo. Became an entrepreneur when the label was only used in France. With 60s  appropriate facial hair, I was called a Hip Capitalist. (I was born 9 months after Pearl  Harbor, so of course I had a Japanese motorcycle shop. Good thing Pop beat ’em.) Pioneer in the LTA Movement. LTA = Living Together Arrangement. Became only a “serial monogamist”. Never made it to the “casual sex” level. Not for  lack of trying, but too much of a romantic. However, I was able to delay marriage:  too much of a hedonist. One of the few unmarried classmates at 10th high school reunion. One attendee asked  my girlfriend, “Are you liberated?” Duh. Raced motorcycles way passed the point of common sense. In fact, I Peter-Principled  with multiple contusions, fractures and concussions. On my Triumph twin I identified  with Steve McQueen in The Great Escape, not Marlon Brando in The Wild Ones. On my  400cc Suzuki motocrosser I identified with Evel Knievel, shouting “Oh no, not again!”  (Knievel is well known as the inspiration for the Britney Spears chartbuster, “Opps, I  Did It Again.”) Was experimenting with Excess Leisure Time when I met future wife. Got picked as  husband by this tall, pretty, brainy, cutting edge, bank officer who was a closet  Alternative Lifestyler. Oh my! I believe she liked my stories. Bought leather running shoes by Adidas long before jogging craze began. (Sister once  told me ADIDAS is a mnemonic for All Day I Dream About Sex. Alright!) Number Two in family home building business. I identified with oldest brother  in Arrested Development. Owned two homes by the fourth year of marriage. No money down. Went on to be a  pioneer in both adjustable rate mortgages and the Refi game. And why not? Who  wants to leave their home equity to their children? Experienced mid-life career change into Sales. Most other folks where chaining  themselves to their desks by then. Delayed children for many years. Then attended Lamaze, LeLeche and actual  delivery. Why? To have one perfect little pun'kin, whom we sent to private schools  because only the best was good enough. Fortunately, the kid got my wife’s good looks  and my math skills. Usually did everything My Way, to varied degrees of success. Later learned this was a  song by Frank Sinatra. Never identified with him. Became wine maker with grapes from my estate. I found the vines under the weeds in  my front yard. The product is yet to be palatable. Bacchus anyone?  Found work at the oldest software company in world. Eventually, organized the folks  there to great success, which led to being acquired. This made so much money for so  many people, that during the acquiring company’s final week, many salespeople approached me at the Court of Two Sisters in New Orleans. They would kneel by my  table and express their thanks. I should have worn a ring for them to kiss. Laid off in the Dot Com bust and never got back on the horse. Blogged against Illegal Immigration before it became fashionable. In August 2007, the  public overwhelmed their elected officials in agreement. Problem solved. [Update:  No, it’s not.] Realized in 2005 that human-generated greenhouse gases causing Global Warming was  mass hysteria. Humans cause 0.28% of all the greenhouse gases surrounding the Earth.  A rounding error! This silliness will fade into oblivion during Hillary’s first term. I have  already moved on. [All confirmed in Unsettled by Prof. Steven E. Koonin, 2021] Way behind the learning curve for my age: while parental concern goes on forever,  control disappears before you know it. Planning my Next Act, delaying the front porch and rocker as long as possible. Perhaps  forever. 

It’s a hot summer night inside a Sacramento rodeo arena. An oval of hay bales has turned it into a motorcycle track. Dust, noise and exhaust fumes flood my full-face helmet. Sweaty black leather armors my nether regions. I look like Darth Vader with his head stuck in a wastebasket. Why am I doing this?

Nine fellow masochists and I are a tableau of anticipation. In two rows of five riders, we lean over our gas tanks and rev like banshees. Each rider is on his toes, elbows out, staring bug-eyed at the narrow entrance to the first turn.

I had won the fastest heat, so I sit on the pole for the main event. The starter’s shoulder begins to move. I see it first. Instinct takes over to coordinate clutch engagement with a butt bounce for traction. I had to get my second trophy ever. Right NOW!

My first trophy was for Dartmouth crew. It was a copper mug inscribed “Fall Championship 1960.”

Oarsmen are basically galley slaves victimized by a sadistic Mini-Me with a megaphone. November practice on the Connecticut River added the thrill of ice. Not bergs – not yet – but a film of ice that began to form on the shell. Our gang of 8 and ½ (no offense, Cox) grew stronger each evening as we carried our frozen vessel back to its house.

Rowing is perfect teamwork or it just doesn’t work. In our final race each stroke lifted the bow above the river. Our outboard arms Popeyed as we twisted our oars to feather the blades. The water dimpled with eight perfect pools as we pulled ahead. “Drive Ten,” bellowed the little fellow in the back. We strained the oars, raised the bow even higher, and roared first under the bridge to Norwich. We earned victory and free beer on the coxswain.

Ó Ó Ó

Six years earlier, my athletic career had begun in Junior High in a tough town near Chicago. By the 7th grade I had attained my full height. I was the biggest kid in the school who was not married.

The basketball coach drafted me as visions of winning danced in his head. Unfortunately, a congenital lack of both coordination and binocular vision (amblyopia) made basketball problematic. My first practice was my last. “Try football,” the coach suggested.

Next Fall I suited up in all kinds of neat football gear. First, we had to joyride the coach around on the blocking sled. This resembled an overturned automobile hood with padded poles. Then the players joyfully practiced pounding each other into the mud.

In Illinois, tackle football was played in Junior High. Also, real men did not wear facemasks. Nothing like a bust in the mouth to get your motor running. I started as nose tackle and the right side pulling guard. The nose tackle’s job is to slam the opposing center to the ground, then vault over him to grapple whoever has the ball. The offensive role of pulling guard was even more fun. When the play worked, you would go left and charge down the line of scrimmage to T-bone your unwary target.

These contact skills prepared me for competition down theroad.

Blessed with lightning reflexes, I am a length ahead into the first turn. I usually led in the beginning then “worked my way back.” But not tonight.

I downshift to third, steer right and lean left, and extend my left leg to plow my steel shoe. High revs drive the back wheel out the other way. A classic dirt track power slide. This scrubs off just enough speed to get around the corner. Good thing: flat track bikes have no brakes.

The second place rider comes in way too hot and highsides into the wall behind me. Hasta la Vista, baby.

With only ten laps on a tiny 1/10th mile oval I don’t have to be fast. I just have to stay first. Dive for the groove. GO LEFT.

I moved to California the Summer before high school. When football started, I was the freshman team’s only experienced tackle ball player. I averaged over a sack per game.

In the Spring I made the freshman track team. Ran the 100 and threw the little 8 pound shot a mighty 30 feet or so. This was OK until a pair of hulking Neanderthal adolescents appeared at one meet. They threw in the 38-39 range. I was so steamed by their performance, I scooped up the steel ball, pirouetted like Discabolus and threw 42 feet to win the event.

My joy was short-lived. The coach had seen my throw and royally chewed my posterior for “cheating.” Allegedly, I had failed to “put” the shot and was disqualified.

I chewed back, demanding he prove it. He produced a rulebook and terminated my track career on the spot.

By the second lap I am hitting 50 mph in the straight-aways. I grandly slide the turns for both debonair photo ops and to block passers. Several riders behind me get tangled up. They go down in a heap. Via con dios, muchachos.

One rider keeps challenging my lead. Outside. Underneath. Even banging into my back tire. No way, Jose! This trophy is mine.

As my high school teammates grew larger, my injuries increased. When the pain began to disrupt my sleep, I decided to become an operetta star. So much for sports.

Ó Ó Ó

Dartmouth rekindled my sporting instincts. During Carnival there were acrobatics on snowy hills and striking a pose for visitors on the ice statues. Of course, any outdoor beer was discreetly consumed from a coffee mug. Other winter sports included sidewalk ice sliding, bicycle racing in the dorm and diving out windows into snow of hopefully sufficient depth.

A warm weather favorite was body surfing in Queechy Gorge. Just like riding the breakers in California until you came upon a rock. Then one attempted a dolphin leap over the mossy obstacle, slithering like Plastic Man.

In the motorsport realm, I once made it to Colby Jr. in 29 minutes. That was on a 500 Triumph twin. Four years later I opened a motorcycle shop. Who says you cannot develop vocational expertise in the Ivy League?

Everything hurts from concentrating so hard. A blink of inattention and you get passed. Or worse.

I still lead into the final turn. The crowd is on its many feet. I extend my left leg for the picturesque dirt track slide. My steel shoe sparks. I’m sideways. I see the checkered flag 40 yards ahead. I’m gonna win! What the Hell is that?

Repeated blows pound my outstretched leg. I look down to see an ugly black thing grow under me. Nasty Number Two wedges his front tire up next to my sliding motorcycle, pushing me out of the groove. This spinning wheel of death is headed for my crotch!

Buzz saw images flood my brain. Will it chew into my privates? A childless future flashes before my eyes.

Forget that. I am going to Make My Day.

Entwined closer than a Green Key couple, we slide around the last turn. My mind shuts out all sound and slows the action. I force my bike to lean even further, pushing against the competitor’s wheel until it washes out. Number Two separates and goes down hard. I gas my bike to wheelie across the finish line. The crowd roars.

I somehow slow down without falling off, get back to the Trophy Girl and pop my helmet for the smooch. After a daughterly peck on the cheek, she hands me a dazzling two-foot tall First Place trophy. I jam its simulated marble base into my leather jacket and take off around the track, waving to my newfound fans. The trophy’s goldtoned shaft hangs out in front, a manly confirmation of my awesome skill, at last.

This was my first and final racing victory.

Legendary motorcycle racer Dick Mann once said that this sport was made to order for competitive guys with little athletic ability. It worked for me.

Chuck Carroll

Walnut Creek, California December 200

 MY DAY ON A DOODLE BUG 

Spring, 1956. Kankakee, Illinois.

 I am training to  be a juvenile delinquent and auto mechanic. Of  course, I was getting straight A’s in Jr. High  because that’s what our family did.

Through a random genetic occurrence I had  reached full adult height the year before. I was  the tallest kid in the school.

Combing my DA one day, I was reading the  latest Junior Scholastic. The cover story featured  guys my age doing motorcycle drill team stuff on  “Doodle Bugs.” They weren’t kidding: these  scooters were bug-like. But it sure looked like  fun!

 I forgot about it. My Dad had taken a job in  California, and we were going on An Airplane  (!) to join him in June.

 We moved into a place big enough for all of us  in Walnut Creek, CA. School hadn’t started, and  I didn’t know anybody. I read the local paper out  of boredom. Wait! What was this? Rhett-White  Ford in Walnut Creek sponsored THE Doodle Bug Club of America.

 That afternoon I biked to the Ford dealer. He told  me about the club and invited me to go along  when they performed at an AMA mile race at  Bay Meadows.

 On Race Day all the members and their Doodle Bugs met at the Ford dealership. An old  Greyhound bus with a crane on the roof was  loaded up with scooters, some on top, some  inside. 

On the way Pete Jensen told me he could help  me mount a bigger carb when I got my Bug. Jim  Howe told me we could “whip out the cam and  grind more duration into the intake lobe.” This  was hot stuff! 

During warm up I was taught how to ride. This  consisted of “go down there, turn around and  come back.” Everything was fine until turning  and stopping exceeded my skill level. My shoe  jammed into a retaining wall and the sole came  loose. But I didn’t damage the Doodle Bug. 

Before the Main Event, the club performed. My  job was to ride a back-up Bug to the drill team  area, then crouch out of the way.  

The team did its maneuvers including the figure  8. Eventually Dave Pringle jumped over four  guys laying on the asphalt. Everyone remounted  and The Club rode off to applause. 

“Quick,” the sponsor told me, “You’re supposed  to go with them!” OK, sure. Now how do you  start this thing? “Push me,” I yelled. “Can’t do  it,” was the reply, “Centrifugal clutch.” 

Several dozen kicks later I took off after the  Doodle Bug formation, now 200 yards ahead. I  got down low over the handlebars, accelerating  over 20 MPH. Being tall, I hung out some  distance ahead of the Doodle Bug. The sole of  my shoe, damaged during the training session,  flapped in the breeze. One lone Doodle Bug,  playing catch up. A noise filled my ears. I looked  back to see 5,000 race fans laughing at me. 

I was never able to afford a whole Doodle Bug. I  did buy an official motor complete with the  kickstarter. I bolted it to the bench in our garage  and serenaded the neighborhood for months,  until I got the burned-up Cushman. But that’s  another story.  

Chuck Carroll Walnut Creek, California 1993  

The author went on to race short track and  moto-cross and even opened his own shop in  Davis, CA. He recently ran into Club member  Jim Howe. Jim goes to Bonneville every year  and holds a class record just shy of 300 mph.  Not on a Doodle Bug, however 

 CONTEST ANSWER

[From Gus] I made up this puzzle after visiting a Temple in Bali where numerous monkeys were stealing objects from the visitors: glasses, hats, flip-flops, cameras - anything they could get their hands on. The question I posed was: What motivates the monkeys to steal the visitors' possessions? 

Chuck Carroll (parody of a song by The Monkees):

Hey, hey, we're Temple Monkeys
And people say we monkey around,
But we're too busy stealing
To put your valuables down.

We’re trained by the tour guides

To grab your best stuff.

They’ll sell it back to you

When we’ve stolen enough.

***

  Dan's Contest Question

As an Elder in your family, what advice do you give (or would you give) to your children, grandchildren, nephews, and nieces to help them safely navigate the turbulent conditions of today's world? 

Predictions. As oldsters we pretty much know what's going to happen. But nobody is interested. Keep your predictions a secret. You may use them for investment purposes.

Tasks. "Don't do things right. Do the right thing." We waste time gilding the lily when nobody wanted one in the first place.

Politics. “Do not judge a man until you walk in a mile in his moccasins.“ (“Judge Softly” by Mary T. Lathrap) Unfortunately, political discussion has devolved into hateful rhetoric. Here's a tip for Rationalists: try on being your opponent. For example, I am against Federal budget deficits. They damage oldsters with inflation and higher taxes. So, I am a Fiscal Conservative with No Party Affiliation. But some folks–Progressives, among others–are happy to use deficits to help the less fortunate and fund other programs. I suggest becoming a Progressive for a day. Embrace their views and hoped-for results. Imagine hearing “Wouldn’t It Be Nice” by The Beach Boys. Get warm tummy feelings. You won’t change your position, but you may learn to talk to opponents without losing your stuff. (For more ideas, see Serenity, below.)

Religion. Embrace all Beliefs.  Most Terrorists are jacked-up Fundamentalists. Our safety depends on keeping them non-violent. So, tell them they are fine. Problem solved. A Canadian relative had these thoughts on Belief: “You must believe in something. I believe I’ll have another beer.” (This joke is a textbook paraprosdokian. Google it.)

Problem people. "That's just the way some people are." (Carey Rundle, a dear relative.) This mantra will save you years of wasted time. Nosy neighbor, obnoxious relative, or serial killer? Nothing we can do about them. Just move along to something you actually enjoy.

Health-Medical. There are two kinds of people: those who get colonoscopies and those who don’t. That pretty much says it all. There is positive mental attitude advice in the Good Book: “A merry heart doeth good like a medicine/ But a broken spirit drieth the bones.” [Proverbs 17:22] And don’t forget Brother Ben:  "Eat to live, don't live to eat." Throw in life-long learning and you have “Mens sana in corpore sano.”  [“A healthy mind in a healthy body”.] Who can't remember our Latin Club banquets, especially the toga parties after dark in the diving pool?

Health-Injuries. Falls and motor vehicle accidents are the worst risks for oldsters. My last serious injury combined both. A competitor crashed in front of me, I ran over his bike and fell, then the next four riders ran over my left ankle. It still aches 53 years later. Avoid motorcycle racing.

Goals. Be meaningful and specific. Avoid "Live a long time."  Instead "Live to dance at granddaughter’s wedding. She just turned 7.”

Purpose of life. Procreate. (Tom Wolfe, Bonfire of the Vanities) Practice early and oftWisest Generation.en. 

Serenity. You've earned it. I am told AA has a prayer on this. "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”(c)

Burst into the Future with a resounding Om-pah.

 Enjoy being part of The  Wisest Generation!