Fun Stuff #3

SOME (OFF THE) WALL HUMOR

A journalist who works for a newspaper in Jerusalem lives near his office, and he walks to and from work every day.  His walk takes him right past the famous Wailing Wall.  [NOTE: This is the remaining wall of the original Temple of Solomon that was destroyed by the Romans two thousand years ago, but that has become a holy shrine for people to come to and pray.  They pray, write prayers on notes and place them between the cracks in the stones, and so on.  A lot of them cry.]

The journalist walks past this twice a day . . . and twice a day, without fail, for months on end, he sees this old fellow standing at the far end, in a prayerful attitude.  Eventually, curiosity gets the better of him and he decides to approach this prayerful stranger.

He introduces himself, and says that he sees this fellow at prayer all the time . . . and he got curious . . . and wanted to know if he could ask what the fellow is praying for.

The old fellow explains that he’s had a good life, he’s comfortably off, and that he doesn’t need material possessions . . . so he prays for world peace.

“That’s amazing”, the journalist says.  “What dedication and generosity of spirit.  How is it for you, to do that, all this time?”

The old fellow replies, “it’s like talking to a fuckin’ wall!”.

37. ON JEWISH CULTURE . . . AND HUMOR

I’ve been writing about Jews and the Bible, and Jewish culture . . . which brings me to the matters of  jokes and humor and silliness as expressed in different cultures.  As far as jokes go, University of California folklorist Alan Dundes has written some wonderful books about the folklore of humor . . . and humor in folklore . . . across different cultures.  Jewish humor, in particular, comes in various forms: there’s American Jewish humor, which is largely based in stereotypes (focus on merchants and money, marriage, my-son-the-doctor, mothers and mothers-in-law, big noses, Jewish princesses, hypochondria, God in the desert, etc.).  There’s also Eastern European Jewish humor, which is based in irony and a darkish view of the world; but of course that sensibility was fermented in a rather pessimistic and oppressed culture.   ‘Authentic’ Jewish humor is dark dark dark.  And, not surprisingly, Western European Jewish humor is colored by the culture of the specific country in question: Germany, Spain, France, England, etc.  I am having trouble imagining Scandinavian Jewish humor, although I assume that there must be some.  I’ve heard German humor; I honestly don’t understand much of it . . . although Germans laugh a lot at it anyway.

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Anyway, here’s an example of ‘authentic’ Eastern European Jewish humor.  

Two men are talking.

One says: “Life is hard”. 

He pauses thoughtfully, and then he continues.  He says: “Life is so hard . . . that death doesn’t seem like such a bad thing”.

After a bit more thinking he says, with finality: “In fact, life is so hard that it’s better to never have been born”.

His friend listens, and says: “You’re right.  But how many people are so lucky?  Maybe only one in ten thousand!”

See?  It’s pretty dark.

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Here’s another, less dark and more stereotypical, Joke:

A Frenchman, and Englishman, a German, and a Jew are mountain climbing.  [This is how I heard this joke; notice how it’s three Nationalities vs. a Religion?  What, there are no English, German, or French Jews??!?]  About halfway up the mountain they take a lunch break and discover that they’ve forgotten to bring any water along with them.  They’re really parched and thirsty.  And there’s no other water anywhere near.  The climbers begin to imagine their favorite thirst quenchers.

Weak from dehydration, the Frenchman says: “I . . . must . . . 

have . . . wine!”

Panting from thirst, the Englishman can barely croak out: “I . . . must . . . have . . . tea!”

The parched German says: “I . . . must . . . have . . . beer”.

The very thirsty Jew says:  “I . . . must . . . have . . . diabetes!”

Sorry about that.

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And here’s one from Alan Dundes’ book on Eastern European Jewish humor.  It lacks the stereotypical touch but makes up for it by being a bit on the dark side:

A man stands in front of a house in one of the less respectable neighborhoods in Bratislava.  He knocks on the door.  No response.  He knocks again, more loudly.

A second-floor window opens and a man sticks his head out.  “What do you want?”, he asks.

“I’m looking for Goldstein, the baker”, he replies.

“He doesn’t live here”, says the second-story guy.

“What’s your name?”, asks the visitor.

“Goldstein”, replies the man at the window.

“Are you a baker?”, asks the man at the door.

“Yes”, replies the man above.

“Well, how can you tell me that Goldstein the baker doesn’t live here?”, asks the visitor.

Goldstein looks around at the decrepit surrounding neighborhood, and says: “You call this living??”.

Better be careful next time you go to Bratislava.

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Have you noticed that the funniest people, the ones with the most active sense of humor, wit, etc., are the ones who’ve had the worst childhoods and the most difficult life experiences?   If you pay attention, I think you’ll find this to be true.  Who else would have a NEED to see life through that kind of lens?  I believe that the same principle applies in general to the historical difficulties and challenges that have resulted in national, ethnic, etc. humor.

As far as Jewish humor is concerned, I learned about its origin recently from a lecture from one of the faculty in Ethnic Studies at U.C. Berkeley.  It’s an interesting story.

The Jews, as we all know, had been dispersed all over the Western world: all over Europe, and over into Eastern Europe.  That’s known as the Jewish Diaspora.

In the 1500s there were a series of brutal pogroms in Eastern Europe.  (A pogrom is to Jews what race riots and lynchings have been to Southern blacks.)  Those pogroms were a problem for the Jewish community because they couldn’t figure out what they had done to offend God sufficiently that he allowed this to happen.  Seriously.  The Jews thought that if they could stop annoying God he’d stop hitting them over the head with the Cossacks.

They thought and thought and debated . . . through the filter and lens of the Torah, of course . . . and finally decided that they’d offended God by laughing too much.  So they decided to outlaw comedians.  Really.  I am not joking here.  They banned all comedians and revelry makers.  Go figure.  They thought God would like them more if they were serious people.

However, no people can survive without some  form of humor.  So the Jews allowed one category of “humorist” to exist: the bodchan. That’s pronounced bud-Hun, with a guttural “h”.  The bodchan  was the Medieval king’s jester’s evil twin; his job was to make fun of people.  The bodchan  said unkind things, especially at weddings.  He goaded people.  He would insult them.  Think Don Rickles; Don Rickles would have made a superb bodchan.  I’ve seen him in action and he was amazingly quick with his pointed jibes.  Anyway, in the past, at Jewish weddings, the bodchan would, for example, reduce the bride to tears with his descriptions of how she would soon be a wrinkled old hag with grey hair, brought down by disease and illness.  And ditto everybody else.

Well, you get the point.  For a long time, that was the only permitted Jewish humor.  Make people hurt until they laugh.  Or cry.  Well, life was hard, so why not?

From that, there arose an ironic sensibility of the world that mellowed a bit over the centuries . . . and by the time America made a place for such a thing in Vaudeville it had morphed into a very wry and self-effacing form of communication.  It had the bite and irony of containing a bit of truth, but now without sounding so horribly bad.  Think Henny Youngman (“Take my wife . . . . . . . . please”) or Rodney Dangerfield (“My luck is so bad that if I bought a cemetery people would stop dying”.)  That kind of humor worked because those narratives were based in living life, and witnessing its imperfections and disappointments from up close, rather than in the more simple-minded two-dimensional stereotypes, wit and puns, putdowns, or outright insults.  Oscar Wilde exercised tremendous wit and cleverness, but he was merely brilliantly ironic; his material wasn’t dark material.  He hadn’t suffered enough to do that.  As for me, I’m very comfortable with Jewish ironic humor.  My brain comes up with that kind of stuff.  I believe that the fundamental building blocks of the universe are Nitrogen, Hydrogen, Oxygen, and Irony.

Anyway, that’s the history that such a sensibility all came out of.  Isn’t that interesting to know?

Speaking of Rodney Dangerfield, whose self-ironic humor I’ve always liked . . . his spin on humor touches on a form of rhetoric that the Greeks called paraprosdokion (sometimes spelled paraprosdokian).  Paraprosdokion, as I’m certain you all know, is a form of rhetoric in which there are two parts, and in which the second part denies or undercuts the first one.  Or modifies it in a subtly humorous way.  A lot of American humor used to be of this type: comic one-liners or two-liners that had a comically self-contradictory feel.  Like Rodney Dangerfield’s delivery.  Will Rogers and George Allen were pretty good at it too.

Here are some examples of paraprosdokion.  They range from the funny to the not-so-funny:

I asked God for a bike, but I know God doesn’t work that way.
So I stole a bike and asked for forgiveness.

He has hit rock bottom
and has begun to excavate.

I want to die peacefully in my sleep like my grandfather,  
not screaming and yelling like the passengers in his car.

The last thing I want to do is hurt you. 
But it’s still on the list.

Light travels faster than sound. 
This is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.

If I agreed with you
we’d both be wrong.

They hired a band that was so lousy
that every time a waiter dropped a tray we all got up and danced.

Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit;
Wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.

I have so much
to be humble about.

I was brought up to respect my elders. 
I’m just having a hard time finding any these days.

Whenever I fill out an application, in the part that says “If an emergency, notify:”
I put “DOCTOR”.

I didn’t say it was your fault,
I said I was blaming you.

I saw a woman wearing a sweatshirt with “Guess” on it…
so I said “Implants?”

I’ve had a wonderful evening. 
Unfortunately, it wasn’t this one.

He took umbrage
when I called him a thief.

Behind every successful man is his woman.
Behind the fall of a successful man is usually another woman.

If at first you don’t succeed . . .
well . . . then maybe sky-diving really isn’t for you.

I want to make you feel at home,
even though I wish you were. 

I discovered I scream the same way whether I’m about to be devoured by a great white shark
or if a piece of seaweed touches my foot.

Some cause happiness wherever they go.
Others whenever they go.

I used to be indecisive.
Now I’m not sure.

I always take life with a grain of salt,
plus a slice of lemon, and a shot of tequila.

When tempted to fight fire with fire,
remember that the Fire Department usually uses water.

He was at his best when the going was good.

Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be.

Some people hear voices.  Some see invisible people.
Others have no imagination whatsoever.

I’m a Scorpio,
so I don’t believe in Horoscopes.  

Where there’s a will,
I want to be in it.

He started out with nothing,
and through sheer hard work and determination made his way to the very highest point on the Bell Curve.

I was approached by a man who told me he hadn’t eaten in three days. 
I said to him, “my dear man, you must force yourself”.

If all the debutantes from Vassar were laid end to end . . .
well, I wouldn’t be a bit surprised.

Nothing is better than having dinner with you. 
Much better, in fact.

I’m glad you’ve rested your case. 
It’s weak.  It needs the rest.

He really turned the situation around
a full 360 degrees.

I think you should put your money where your mouth is,
and ignore the fact that money has a lot of germs.

He started out with nothing,
and has retained most of it.

Never wrestle with a pig. 
You’ll both get filthy, and the pig will enjoy it.

If you have a stack of applications on your desk, throw the first ten of them out.
You don’t want to hire unlucky people.

Sex at age 90 is . . .
like trying to shoot pool with a rope.

He put out a good vibe. 
I mean, he squelched it completely.

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More later.

25. MARTIN LUTHER AND THE LAW [2/2]

and SOME AMERICAN HISTORY,  or “KEEPING PEOPLE IN LINE” vs. “HELPING THEM”

MUSINGS, NO. 25, written in 2022  

Part 2 of  2

I’ve been talking (writing?) about incompatible views of the proper functions of government . . . and the mindsets that support such incompatible opinions.  This is a continuation of that topic.

Those incompatible mindsets are formed early in life, and they are formed entirely unconsciously.  No kid sits down to think about the ethics of abortion, for instance; he/she learns that from how his/her parents feel.  Ditto re: households in which the power structure is patriarchal, or dictatorial, or hierarchical, or egalitarian, or racist, or whatever else.  Those attitudes are installed — and deeply so — by age four or five.  Whatever you may ever go into therapy to deal with, it’ll go back to then.  Everything else is simply a metaphor, or vehicle, for those early-learned attitudes and mindsets.

Here’s something interesting.  It was only relatively recently that, in our own history, anyone in authority thought to make sure that “the people” had enough to eat; up until then it was most certainly every man for himself.  You know, Social Darwinism and all that.  This new idea came to the fore with the Democrats under Franklin Roosevelt — out of the desperate straits of the Depression.  Roosevelt rolled out help and aid programs of all kinds: the New Deal, the Works Progress Administration, social security and health care . . . etc.  The Republicans have been fighting that mindset ever since.  

I think of them as the “Throw People Off The Raft” Party.

Historically, it was the Roman Empire that first had the idea that the government had a responsibility to ensure that the people had enough to eat.  Isn’t that amazing?  They were the first.  

But they had to.  They were, after all, managing a “tribe” in which most members didn’t know the others, and certainly weren’t related to any of them, and would have had no reason to look out for any of them.  Without a “government” to hold things together, all the groups and tribes and factions would be at each other’s throats in no time.  And Rome itself was huge . . . and needed a steady food supply.  It was like the United States is today, actually — with the added bonus that our government is, under Trump, alienating all of our former allies while simultaneously having anal sex with Russia, our former biggest enemy.  Wow.  Even science fiction types couldn’t make this stuff up.

The IDEA that the government should make sure that the people had enough to eat was, in fact, the Communist idea also.  It didn’t turn out to work that way in Russia, as we all know.  Still, the Scandinavian and European countries have “Socialized Medicine”, and that seems to be working better than our own paltry efforts at national “non-Socialized” health care.  As far as the Republicans go, their platform is that people should get the health care that they can afford, and in the last political campaign Mitt Romney actually poo-pooed working people’s idea that they thought they had a right to health care.  

Well, it’s hard to miss the complete absence of any sense that the Republicans, as prosperous citizens, have ANY responsibility for their less prosperous fellow citizens.  They see the government as TAKING THEIR MONEY AWAY FROM THEM in the form of taxes . . . but without wondering what things such as medicine, education, health, and services to the community [that paid the taxes!] the government might use it for.  It’s just too difficult a concept for them.

It makes one ill.  But on the other hand: wow.  Who knew that Franklin Roosevelt was a Communist!?  Well, he was!  He made efforts to distribute to the people what the people needed, both in the second half of the Great Depression and World War II.

And still, all that considered — insofar as it is a good and decent idea for a government to look out for its citizens — our own Republic didn’t lift much of a finger to help with the feeding-everyone effort while the Communists were advertising that that was their ultimate goal.  Our own ruling class saw doom and upper-class bankruptcy in the Communist scenario, and the U.S. fought the Communists and their egalitarian ideas tooth and nail.

Well, we all know that “Communism failed”.  It might have done so anyway, of its own internal complications, and without our help.  But we don’t know that.  We did help.  And our help was MASSIVE: we opposed, fought, resisted, propagandized, disinformed, misinformed, undermined, blackballed, vilified, and attacked Communists and Communism in every way we could, and justified our every move by pointing to their nefariousnesses.  Any government under that kind of assault will not be free to develop in peaceful ways.  

By “our own ruling class”, as I mentioned above, I mean pretty much anyone who made a lot of money by hook or by crook and has become part of “the American way”; that is, after all, the principal social message that any and all schools will have taught.  Or, if they didn’t teach it, they certainly never examined or questioned the principal pillars of American though.  These are the “we’re-the-good-guys” trope, the “right-to-get-ahead” part of the American Dream, and the Sanctity-of-Private-Property promoters.  

That has of course spread far and wide: and the propaganda got so thick that you could be lynched in the South if someone called you a Communist.  Under the highly alcoholic senator Joe McCarthy many people got persecuted, prosecuted, fired, blacklisted, boycotted, injured, etc. for thinking Communism was a good idea.  Yes, we all know that Communism failed. But the idea of it was nonetheless excellent: that everyone chips in and participates in a classless society.

The main idea was that You Should And Will Get Yours (“from everyone according to their ability to everyone according to their needs”) . . . but You Shouldn’t And Will Not Get Anyone Else’s.  Here, if you’ve noticed, the 1% has gotten the 99%’s share.  The financial world certainly stole a bunch of everyone else’s in the 2008 fiasco . . . and no one has rectified any of it.  Nor will they, from what I can see.  Well, neither Hillary Clinton nor Donald Trump hinted that this was going to be a plank of their platform, in the past election.  And I don’t hear whispers about it in the election to come.

Well, the F.B.I. was going to take care of the Communist problem; its mandate was to oversee Domestic law and order.  (The C.I.A., born out of the earlier O.S.S., had the task of overseeing Un-domestic law and order.)  It was, therefore, the F.B.I.’s main job to get rid of all the domestic Communists (well, the ten most wanted criminals too, but mainly the Communists).  

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However, the F.B.I. allowed the Communist party to remain active in this country.  Yes, it did.  

And why did it do so?  Well, mostly because it needed bad guys.  The F.B.I. understood that once the Communists were gone it would have no reason to exist.  It would be out of a job.  There weren’t enough “ten most wanted” people to keep that many F.B.I. people employed.

I was told this many years ago by an old Communist fellow who knew this history.  I’ve never read about this, by the way; and neither have you. Why would we have?  It’s simply the most credible political strategy scenario imaginable.

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How things have changed.  I was saying that individuals will have internalized the imperative to uphold the function of the Government to “keep things in line”, as far as their sociopolitical lives go.  This will have been internalized as a rule for running their own personal and family lives as well.  

THE CURRENT SITUATION:

I’ve created a life for myself via making guitars.  I learned it by exercising hand skills, perceptual skills, analytical skills, and experienced common sense.  I have the sense that I now live in a world in which hand skills and common sense are less and less needed.  Well, electronic devices and computers have taken over.  By the same token, I seem to live in a world in which following one’s conscience and common sense of humanity is less and less the thing to do.  Especially by those who have influence and power they feel the need to defend.  Exercise of conscience and common sense appear to have been replaced by “following policy” or “following the rules”.  This seems to me quite true in the realm of politics — particularly the politics of the Right — as well as the corporate (financial, manufacturing, medical and scientific) sectors.   

You know, “carry out the Policy and don’t complicate things or waste time by being nice, empathetic, helpful, or a bleeding heart to people”.  

I probably sound like I’m overstating this, but that last part is very absent in today’s politics.  All you have to do is listen to any current official’s explanation of how the government has to separate illegals from their children.  And there’s Kelly Ann Conway’s famous “alternate facts” spin.  They mean it.  This is these functionaries’ job description.  It has to be, because of party policy.  And they’re paid to carry it out.

I wrote about this aspect of the plight of “illegals” in my last newsletter.  “It’s Disneyland for the kids”; someone actually said that . . . as the children live in cages without their families nearby, and “supervised” by people assigned to feed them, make sure none of them get too sick or try to escape.  The official line is: “well, we don’t want to do that, but it’s unavoidable; the main thing is that we have to keep the nation safe.”  Basically, it’s “we have no choice”.  I keep on hearing that on news programs.

I got an interesting email in response to my thoughts, from a friend; he wasn’t happy with the separating of families and children but, but he did make a point of letting me know that these people were here illegally and that we were merely sending them back to their own countries.

I don’t wish to start fights with people.  But it seems to me that this little conversation contains two entirely separate issues.  On the one hand, well, yes, they’re not here legally, and something ought to be done about that.  On the other hand — and I seem to be emphasizing this one in my own mind — how does that entitle anyone to mistreat them?  

I don’t need to tell you that the countries that many of the refugees are coming from (Mexico, Honduras, Nicaragua, Syria, Iraq, some African countries, etc.) are DANGEROUS to live in, do I?  I guess that my thinking focuses on how untenable it is to live in those countries, as opposed to the fact that those people were born in those countries and should stay there if they don’t have the papers with which to immigrate here.  Would that life were that easy and hold on as I peel my blood pressure off the ceiling.  

As I’ve written before, my family and I are/were Hungarian immigrants.  We left Europe after the second world war, along with millions of people who had been displaced by that war, whose lives had been destroyed, and who wanted a new beginning.  In our case we left Hungary and went to Austria.  Then we moved to England.  Then we moved to Cuba.  Then we moved to Mexico.  No one wanted us. 

Is this sounding familiar? 

We did arrive here in the U.S. “legally” in 1959, after 14 years of wandering.  World War 2 was over as of 1945.  Plus, I think my parents knew we’d get in if we waited long enough (the U.S. was “the good guys” back in those days, much more than it is now).

I don’t think it works like that for the refugees I just mentioned, though.  Their nations are quite active areas of poverty, disease, and civil war.  And it is largely civil war that is supported by various world powers – us included.  That’s really different than the situation my parents and I faced.

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After World War II Cuba was one of two countries on this side of the Atlantic that accepted refugees without quota limitations.  The other was Ecuador.  So, those who didn’t want to rot away in some European internment camp flocked to Cuba or Ecuador, just to have a place to rest until they could figure out what to do with the rest of their lives.  Those became staging areas.  And from them expatriate Europeans moved on to Canada, the United States, Latin America, Palestine, Australia, back to Europe, or even Africa.  My family and I were part of that flow of humanity.  And we knew what it felt like to be strangers in a strange land, whom no one wanted and who would have been persecuted as “illegals” had we snuck in somewhere.  A lot like today’s Muslims and Mexicans.  These can be considered this administration’s M & Ms.   And they don’t have staging areas like Cuba and Ecuador to escape to.

Eventually, my family and I got green cards.  And here we are.

Here’s a question that I don’t have a good answer for.  An awful lot of Americans are from immigrant stock.  How can they feel this way about the next wave of people who are on that same track?  

What’s that?  What did you say?  Oh, we’re white and they’re not?  They lack the skills and education the U.S. needs?  Yeah, that explains it.  And they hate the U.S.?  What was I thinking?  And of course we did take in the Jews, the Italians, the Irish and the Scots of “the Celtic migration”, and other Europeans; these have been here a while and have by now become “American” – everything that the wanna-bes are not.  Pardon me for saying it but, from what I can see, that includes not being white.  Darker skinned people may or may not hate the U.S. . . . but what they all mainly want is to be able to feed their families and live in peace.  

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Just so.  As I try to put all these pieces together so that they make some sense to me I’m left with the conclusion that beauty, sympathy, charity, and kindness toward others seem to be quite useless in the minds of . . . well . . . Evangelicals, xenophobes, anti-gays, Tea Party people, America Firsters, and such.  They’re certainly useless and pointless in the struggles against the people who are now being labeled as bad and dangerous.  At least, that’s what it seems like from what I’m seeing and hearing.  

I probably sound very facetious in saying this, but I’m being straight.  It really doesn’t matter whether anyone thinks I’m saying that those are bad people or not; that’s beside the point.  I’m saying that the “nationalists” seem to think*** like that.  The qualities I named seem to not be useful to those people.  If they were useful or valued, well, they’d use them.  Would they not?

*** “Think” is such a silly-sounding word.  Try saying it to yourself a few times.  Doesn’t it sound like someone clanking a fork on some plumbing pipes?

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Aldous Huxley, in his book Brave New World, describes a futuristic society in which everyone kowtows to Big Brother; everyone participates in the daily five minutes’ hate that is directed against whoever big brother doesn’t like that week.  Once a week, everything stops for five minutes and people focus their hatred on someone or some group.

Behold Fox news and Rush Limbaugh.

Man, those scare me.  Hatred, hatred, hatred.  It’s like Germany before World War 2.  Can we be reassured by the fact that the current White House’s [Donald Trump’s] staff has already many times the turnover that Adolph Hitler’s staff did?  It’s like a tire that’s had sixty or seventy re-treads.  If anyone has any helpful insights into this, I’d be interested in hearing them.

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HERE’S SOME HUMOR ABOUT SOMETHING USELESS:

Paddy, the Irishman, walks into his favorite pub one afternoon.  Well, he’s not actually walking; he’s limping and dragging his leg.  

He’s covered in scrapes and black-and-blue marks.  His arm’s in a sling and he has a bandage wrapped around his head.

The barman looks at him in shock and says, “Paddy!  What happened to ye?”

Paddy replies, “Tim O’Malley gave me a beatin’ ”.

The barman, still shocked, asks, “what did he beat you with?”

Paddy replies, “he beat me with a shovel”.

“Well”, says the barman, “ ‘tis a fine beatin’ he gave ye, I can see.  But did ye no’ have anything in your hand you could defend yourself with?”

“Aye, I did”, says Paddy.  “Mary O’Malley’s breast.  ‘Twas a thing of rare beauty . . .  but I have to tell ye, honestly, t’was useless in a fight”.

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The Harvard-like Test

This is based upon typical graduation requirements at Harvard.  Try to finish within 5 minutes.  When you are done, count the number correct and see how you compare to others. OK, here we go…

1. Is there a 4th of July in England? Yes or no?

 2. How many birthdays does the average man have?

 3. Some months have 31 days. How many have 28?

 4. How many outs are there in an inning?

 5. Can a man in California marry his widow’s sister?

 6. Take the number 30, divide it by 1/2, and then add 10. What do you get?

 7. There are 3 apples and you take two away. How many apples are you left with?

 8. A doctor gives you three pills and tells you to take one every half an hour.  How long will the pills last?

 9. A farmer has 17 sheep. All but 9 of them die. How many sheep are left?

10. How many animals of each sex did Moses bring with him on the ark?

11. A butcher in the market is 5’10” tall. What does he weigh?

12. How many 2 cent stamps are there in a dozen?

13. What was the President’s name in 1960?

NO CHEATING

So how do you think you did?

(Answers below.)

TEST ANSWERS:

1. Is there a 4th of July in England? Yes or No?

     Yes. It comes right after the 3rd.

2. How many birthdays does the average man have?

     One (1). You can only be born once.  The others are birthday anniversaries.

3. Some months have 31 days. How many have 28?

     Twelve (12). All of them have at least 28 days.

4. How many outs are there in an inning? Six (6).

     Don’t forget there is a top and bottom to every inning.

5. Can a man in California marry his widow’s sister?

     No. He must be dead if it is his widow.

6. Take the number 30, divide it by 1/2, and then add 10. What do you get?

     Seventy (70); thirty (30) when divided by 1/2 is 60.

7. There are 3 apples and you take two away. How many apples are you left with?

     Two (2). YOU take two apples . . . therefore YOU have TWO apples.

8. A doctor gives you three pills and tells you to take one every half an hour.

     How long will the pills last?

     One hour. If you take the first pill at 1:00, the second at 1:30,

     and the third at 2:00, the pills have run out and only one hour has passed.

9. A farmer has 17 sheep. All but 9 of them die.

     How many sheep are left?

     Nine (9). Like I said, all BUT nine die.

10. How many animals of each sex did Moses have on the ark?

     None. Moses never had an ark.

11. A butcher in the market is 5′ 10 tall.  What does he weigh?

     Meat … that is self-explanatory.

12. How many 2 cent stamps are there in a dozen?

     Twelve (12). How many eggs are in a dozen? TWELVE … it’s a dozen.

13. What was the President’s name in 1960?

     George Bush. As far as I know, he hasn’t changed his name.

So, how did you do?

13 correct………GENIUS…you are good.

10-12 correct….ABOVE AVERAGE…but don’t let it go to your head.

7-9 correct……..AVERAGE…but who wants to be average?

4-6 correct……..SLOW…pay attention to the questions!

1-3 correct………IDIOT…what else can be said?

0 correct…………CONGRATULATIONS, you are a certified MORON

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HERE’S A RIDDLE FOR YOUR ENJOYMENT.  IF YOU’RE LESS THAN 12 YEARS OLD YOU’LL  HAVE FIGURED  IT OUT EASILY.  IF YOU’RE  30 OR OLDER,  IT MAY WELL STUMP  YOU:

A COWBOY RIDES INTO TOWN AT NOON ON FRIDAY.

TWO DAYS LATER, HE RIDES OUT OF TOWN, AT EXACTLY NOON, ON FRIDAY.

HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?

FRIDAY IS THE NAME OF HIS HORSE.

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21. MARTIN LUTHER & THE LAW [1/2]

(Or: “KEEPING PEOPLE IN LINE” vs. “CATERING TO THEIR NEEDS”)

“Newsletter” No. 21, written in 2020

Part 1 of  2

I’ve been writing on and off about Martin Luther, the mental and spiritual spark plug behind the European Reformation of 500 years ago.  His influence lives on in various versions of social belief and outlook, among American Evangelicals of all stripes, and in the Alt Right, and among Neo-Conservative groups.  Not to mention in newly re-emerging conservative, racist, and nationalist groups all over Europe.

Luther’s most earnestly argued contribution to society appears to have been his championing of the rights and privileges of the Authoritarian Personality.  Luther stood for the position that everyone should be subject to the governing authorities.  Well . . . one would need to understand the historical context within which this idea first lifted its head, in order to more fully understand that dictum better than this single bald sentence can explain anything.  However, I can give you the short version.  

Luther himself left a record that shows him to have been an explosively belligerent, intransigent, and uncompromising defender (propagandist? shill?) for his view of things.  His message was that Faith alone would save one, and that otherwise the proper function of government was to Impose Order.  The proper function of government was NOT to be Helpful, Sympathetic, or Supportive of its citizens’ various human needs.  

In other words, “Governing Authority” was there to keep those in line who had insufficient Faith and/or trust . . . in . . . uh . . . God, and also the government authority.  That’s rather circuitous, but I think Luther’s message really did boil down to this.  And it certainly is more fun for whoever is in power and authority.  Well, Authoritarianism certainly was the European model for civic behavior, as well as for child rearing, all the way through my parents’ generation — particularly in the Germanic countries.  I believe that it still is so in the Germanic countries . . . and no doubt other ones as well.  

My own family is European and my father treated all of us as his personal property.  Well, that’s exactly how and what he’d been taught.  His job was to “impose order” by getting the rest of us to obey him.  It was NOT his job to advise, act as a model, to support us personally or emotionally or sympathetically or morally, nor to philosophize or problem-solve.  He didn’t have much of a clue about any of that that.  But of course, he wouldn’t have: he was brought up in exactly the same way — but with much more physical punishment than he imposed on me.  So kudos for him for acting better in that way.  He merely frightened the shit out of me.

For my father and people who have been brought up as he was, everything is a struggle for power and control . . .  and even survival . . . precisely as even the smallest thing appears to be for Donald Trump.  He has NO sense of scale, perspective, boundaries, or proportion.  He has to be Respected and Obeyed.  For him, being criticized by a nine-year old seems to hold the same charge as being dissed by the leader of another nation.  Never mind that the nine year old is not likely to have nuclear weapons.  

NARCISSISTIC INJURIES

There is the concept of the “narcissistic injury” in contemporary psychology.  This is code for “a psychological injury that is so massive that it makes one feel that one has ceased to exist”.  This probably sounds fanciful, and a mere sentence like what I just wrote doesn’t at all do justice to the reality of the experience.  But I’ve seen such things happen and can vouch for the fact that they really do exist.  

I think it’s likely that most people have seen a bit of this kind of thing but have had no category of experience or knowledge to put it into.  If you’ve ever seen anyone in a mindless rage that they are powerless to stop, or seen someone completely collapse into a helpless puddle, then you’ve seen a narcissistic collapse too . . . perhaps without understanding what you were seeing.

Some people have so little sense of self, and have a personality that is so fragile, that it takes rather little to make them feel that they have ceased to exist.  As I said before, such sentences really don’t convey what that’s like. But, really: one’s sense of self and one’s sense of existing in the world disappears completely.  That is what the psychological literature is actually describing.  One minute one might be cooking dinner and the next thing one finds one’s self in an internal black vacuum of nothingness . . . in some dimension for which there are no words . . . just as infants have no words.  

Or, imagine that you’re in a department store surrounded by hundreds of objects, merchandise, things, colors, sounds, etc.  Then, POW!  It’s all gone and you’re in a large, empty, silent, and dark room . . . or in a room that’s chaotic with too-bright, colors, changing shapes, and loud sounds.  Either way, you have the primitive mental powers of a freaked out five-month old.

The adult person who is caught up in a narcissistic injury may in fact talk or rant, but that’s not the feeling state.  I repeat: the feeling state is that any coherent sense of one’s self will have completely vanished.  It’s just that one can have tantrums in which he can now throw loud words about, and also flail around uncontrollably, and even harm people.  Also, as I said before: this is impossible for someone who is a stranger to such mental states to imagine; but believe me, it happens.

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HERE’S A RIDDLE FOR YOUR ENJOYMENT.  IF YOU’RE LESS THAN 12 YEARS OLD YOU’LL   BE ABLE TO FIGURE IT OUT EASILY.  IF YOU’RE 30 OR OLDER, IT MAY WELL STUMP  YOU:

A COWBOY RIDES INTO TOWN AT NOON ON FRIDAY.

TWO DAYS LATER, HE RIDES OUT OF TOWN, AT EXACTLY NOON, ON FRIDAY.

HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?

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More later, along with the answer to the riddle.

Fun Stuff #2

THE BROKEN CLOCK PUZZLE

Michael is a handy guy who makes things.  He makes ukuleles, tooling, jigs, furnishings, displays, takes photos, and so on.  While he is active in many kinds of such projects, the people who use them generally agree that Michael’s stuff is much better than it looks or functions, despite how overpriced it all is.

Michael recently made a wall clock out of scraps, cutoffs, and leftovers of various materials.  It worked fine . . . until a particularly volatile series of anti-government rants by Bob knocked it off the wall.  The clock hit the floor, just missing Denyse and Carol-#1-the-taller, and broke into three pieces.  They, being used to Bob’s rants, continued chatting.

  Sarah A. jumped out of her seat in fright, fearing a ninja assassination attempt in progress.   Sara S. emitted a shriek so high-pitched that only the dogs could hear it; every cup and glass in the room shattered.   Carol-#2-the-shorter, in an unexpected manifestation of fight-or-flight syndrome, was reduced to the only-recently-discovered third reaction: helpless giggles and hiccups.  Jamie clung to both her doggie and Liz with an alacrity heretofore unseen, leaving indentations in them that would last the rest of the day.  Ervin was . . . well, it was hard to tell.  He might have had a hangover or was experiencing flashbacks.  You never know, with him.

Just as Michael and Trini were about to clean the mess up, Barbara walked in.

She took one look at the broken clock and — in a breathless utterance delivered with Laurence-Olivier-like composure and accompanying British accent said: “OH MY GOD, MICHAEL.  LOOK!   THE CLOCK BROKE INTO THREE PIECES IN SUCH A WAY THAT THE NUMBERS ON EACH CHUNK ADD UP TO THE SAME TOTAL!” 

 HOW DID THE CLOCK BREAK?  WHAT NUMBERS FROM ONE TO TWELVE DID EACH PIECE CONTAIN?

 16. A LETTER TO WELLS FARGO BANK [June, ’18]

This was written in June of 2018

I don’t know if I’m just getting grumpy in my old age, or if I just am tired of all the lies that I soak and marinate in every day via all the media. Oh, you know: 

I’m your friend; I’m here to help you. You just have to . . . 
    buy me; 
      eat me; 
         drink me; 
           smoke me; 
             admire me;
               be happy with me;
                 have faith in me; 
                   be beautiful with/for me; 
                     fuck me; 
                      own me; 
                        trust me;
                         use me;
                          wear me; 
                           be loyal to me; 
                             send me a check;
                               have a nicer car; 
                                vote for me;
                                 keep up with me;
                                   be more with it; 
                                   etc. etc. etc.
                                    etc. etc.
                                    etc.
                                    etc.
                                    etc.
                                    etc.
                                    etc.
                                    etc.

Anyway, I went to my bank two weeks ago, to make a bank wire transfer.  As it happened, I was directed to a newbie bank officer with whom to do the necessary paperwork.  Being a newbie, he was accompanied by a (female) supervisor who helped him through the various steps.  I’d never met either of them before, and between the three of us we did this task in about 20 minutes.  The next day I got a follow-up email telling me the status of the wire transfer.  The email said:

“Good Afternoon Ervin,

I just wanted to follow up with you in regards to the wire we processed yesterday at the banking center. As we discussed it will be going out Monday due to it being late in the afternoon. And I wanted also to thank you for your continued business with us.  Your relationship is important to me and I appreciated having the opportunity to assist you. My goal is to help you succeed financially and to provide you with an exceptional level of service, while ensuring your service requests are met. 

If you have questions, or would like assistance or information please call me using the information below.  

Thank you. We appreciate your business.

(The guy’s name appeared here, without a “yours”, “sincerely”, or other sign-off word or phrase)

I sent him the following response:

Hi, Mr. ________;

Thank you for getting back to me, and I appreciate your help in the matter of the international wire transfer.

 You emailed me the standard politenesses about appreciating my business and eagerness to assist me. It’s nice of you to say things like that; but if you’ll forgive me, that is not my experience of Wells Fargo bank. I’ll tell you up front that this is not your fault; it’s just that banking at Wells Fargo is unpleasant for me. 

 Over the years I have seen Wells Far-to-go turn from a reasonably friendly bank full of people whom I’d see every time I went there into a building that is perpetually full of strangers.  I’ve seen tellers, officials, loan officers, managers, personal bankers, credit card staffers, portfolio advisors, etc. come and go countless times. The parking lot attendants have longer tenure.  There’s only one person left that I recognize from long ago: ______; and she’ll be retiring soon.   _____ has been around for a while, and so has that very nice ______ (?) fellow whom I sometimes bring a coffee for.  But everyone else is a stranger to me.  

I met you and Ms. _____ for the first time only last week, over the matter of the bank wire transfer.  You greeted me when I walked through the door.  In the past three months I’ve been greeted at the door by three other people whom I’d never seen before and have not seen again.  As things are going, both you and Ms. _____ will both soon leave and I’ll never see either of you again.  The very nice connection I made with her will disappear forever.  Wells Fargo is not really there to help me, I’m afraid.  If it were, there would be familiar faces for me to feel comfortable with, and to have built up some familiarity with and create some sense of community.  Frankly, I have a more personal relationship with my grocery store checkout person, whom I at least see most times I go there.  But this is not your fault. 

A bit of history: I’ve banked at that branch of Wells Fargo since before you were born.  As I said, you and met for the first time only last week.  I am twice your age and I come from a different generation and culture than you do.  It would be polite for someone in your position to address me as Mr. Somogyi.  You have, as far as I’m concerned, no license to do differently.  

It’s a bit awkward to point this out but, while it is common in this culture to casually call people by their first names, ours is a professional/commercial relationship in which we are not friends or equals.  You don’t know me; I don’t know you; and you are paid to deal with me.  As a matter of fact, Wells Fargo makes the money with which it pays you directly off my patronage, and that of others like me.  I’m fairly responsible about things like how people address one another; I was brought up to call my elders Mr. or Mrs., or even Ms.  You may not have noticed that I am at least three times your age.

Please forgive me for this longish letter; you’ve done almost nothing to deserve it.  You are not responsible for the bulk of my frustrations.  I’m sure you have your own troubles.  But you should have some idea about manners.

Years ago my bank branch was full of visible and audible activity.  Now, when I walk in it’s almost deserted.  There are two (or occasionally three) tellers at ten teller’s windows.  The other seven or eight windows look like cemeteries waiting for a visitor.  That’s probably because everyone is doing electronic banking.  But I’m old-fashioned and I go to the bank.  And these days that feels sort of like sitting next to the girl no one wants to dance with; the effect on me is somewhere between disconcerting and creepy.

Mostly, however, it’s not that the bank is inefficient or thoughtless or greedy; your employer is a criminal.  You work for a criminal organization.  Wells Far-to-go claims to be benevolent and civically responsible, but it famously opened MILLIONS of unauthorized accounts for its customers without their knowing about it.  It didn’t really have to do that, you know; but it did because it could.  It refunded the money, of course (or claimed it did); but it did so unwillingly and under threat once the secret was out.

My honest opinion is that Wells Fargo’s board of vastly overpaid directors should rot in a Nicaraguan prison.  A few people did lose their jobs over that act of out-and-out piracy, but not much more than that happened.  Wells Far-to-go participated in the financial debacle of circa 2008; it also has financed and continues to finance all kinds of corporate projects that devastate the environment and is PRIMARILY focused on making money for its already moneyed customers. Its mortgage track record ranges from unsatisfactory to horrible; I know that from experience and from others who have spoken with me.  I also have a friend who is a financial attorney, who has spoken with me about having had way too much experience with how utterly shabby, shady, and corrupt Wells Far-to-go’s behaviors and policies on the whole have been.  

I’m embarrassed to be one of Wells Fargo’s customers.  Not that most of the other big banks are any different.  But I don’t know of any more benign bank to put my money into. 

You are a youngish man trying to make his way through life and who has found a career with this institution.  And you are simply doing your job. I mean you no ill or disrespect whatsoever.  As far as I know, you are not dishonest and you are not in a position to engage in malfeasance.  You should, though, observe the niceties of acknowledging your elders with some politeness; and in your job most of the elders you meet are not your friends; you’re engaging in monetary transactions.  I’ve met people at that bank over the years that I’ve honestly liked.  However, I’m unable to like Wells Fargo itself. 

Once, a long time ago, the bank had mounted a promotional campaign that advertised business loans to small and struggling community businesses. Being young, and starting a struggling small business, I applied for such a loan.  The bank official I spoke with seemed to be kindly disposed toward the young and naive young person I was at the time, and told me straight out that despite what they say in their advertising the bank has little to no interest in that kind of activity, and wouldn’t loan me anything.  Those weren’t his precise words but that was EXACTLY what he said to me.  Ditto with my mortgage some years later: Wells Far-to-go said yes almost right off the bat, of course; and then it said no.  In the world of sales, this is called bait-and-switch.

Today, a bank wire transfer should go through to any place in the world in microseconds.  I’d give the paperwork, etc., 24 hours, max.  As it is, I was told that it may take five to ten business days . . . during which, in addition to the fee that I was charged, Wells Fargo gets to use my money gratis for that length of time.  As far as service goes, whom exactly is that a service to?  Well, it is business as usual, is it not?

I may or may not see you next time I go to the bank.  If I do, I’ll offer to bring you a cup of coffee.  Ditto Ms. ________.  Nothing of what I’ve been writing is your or her fault . . . although, as I intimated above, I’ve been subject to the bank’s various business practices for as long as you’ve been on this planet (and I think Ms. ________’s lifetime too).  Finally, Wells Fargo has made money off me every month and every year of that time.  Coffee-wise, I usually go to the place up the block; they have decent coffee.

Respectfully (toward you, not the bank), Ervin Somogyi

Fun Stuff #1

Real Test: Count the “F’s” in the following text:

FINISHED FILES ARE THE RESULT OF YEARS OF SCIENTIFIC

STUDY COMBINED WITH THE EXPERIENCE OF YEARS…(see below)




Managed it ?

Scroll down only after you have counted them, okay?  Do you think there are three?  How many?  3?

Wrong, there are 6 !!–no joke.

Read it again.

The reasoning behind it is that . . . . . . . . . . . .

 . . . . . . . . . . . . . The brain cannot process “of”.

Incredible or what ? Go back and look again!!

Anyone who counts all 6 “F’s” on the first go is a genius.

Three is normal, four is quite rare. Send this to your friends — it drives them crazy.

DEAR DR. DOVETAIL, Part 2

Dr. Dovetail is a [humorous] advice column for luthiers.  It consists of some earnest letters of inquiry that Dr. Dovetail has been helpful with.  

Be it noted that no one is named who has objected to their name being used, and other names have been disguised to protect the innocent. There is no subtext, there are no hidden messages, there is no weirdness or backstabbing going on outside of my own silliness.  If I really don’t like someone, I certainly don’t make fun of them in public.  I go after them in sneaky ways.

On the other hand, nothing is trickier than writing humor. It’s more difficult than any other kind of writing; it’s impossible to not offend someone, no matter how hard you try.  So if this isn’t going to be quite your cup of tea, please don’t read on. 

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

I recently bought a Ribbecke guitar with a huge bulge in the lower bout on the treble side of the face, at my local flea market.  The guy selling it said it didn’t need de-warping ‘cause it was made like that.  He said it was a bubbled-top guitar.  What’s the deal with this?

Signed: Bubbles, in Champaign (Illinois)

Dear Bubbles in Champaign:

What you have in your hot trembling hands, you lucky innocent, is one of the Ribbecke bubble-top guitars, manufactured in the 1970s.  The genesis of the design is obscure: at first it was thought to be simply a metaphor for the essential post-modern deconstructionist paradigm.  However, industrial sources report that it was the result of a search for a way to make guitars more sexy by giving them cleavage, and Ribbecke’s bulgey design ultimately provided the inspiration for the Miracle Bra.  Having only a single bubbled mound on the treble side, however, these early attempts at representing cleavage came off as rather half-assed.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

 Having been a member of the National Luthier’s Guild for some years now I’m puzzled by the fact that its publication, Guitarmaker, is only published a few times a year.  Other magazines are published at least six times a year, if not monthly or even weekly, and, given the sheer amount of interest in lutherie and woodworking out there, I’d expect that there would be more than enough material available to publish an informational journal more frequently.  What is the explanation for such a lapse?

                                                                                    Signed: Elmore Pulitzer

Dear Elmore:

Being a somewhat in-house publication, it is felt that the normal rules and considerations don’t apply to Guitarmaker.   It is furthermore felt that this publication, like other things in its publisher’s life, more than makes up in size and quality for what it lacks in frequency.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

My wife recently surprised me by buying me a Humphries “millennium” guitar. The sense of occasion of the moment, unfortunately, was somewhat blunted by our getting into a heated argument about when the millennium actually began: in 2000, or in 2001?  If I’m right, my wife threatens to return the “millennium” guitar and says I’m free to repurchase it myself on any date I wish. Can you help clarify this most vexing situation?

                                                            Signed: Stanley Kubrick (no, not that one)

Dear the-other-Stanley:

 No need to worry: no actual, current time line is violated in the purchase of a Humphreys millennium instrument.  Because the cachet of the current new millennium had already been co-opted by numerous commercial franchise ventures which had bought all rights to it, Mr. Humphreys’ guitars actually refer to the third millennium B.C.,which was still up for grabs.  Keep your guitar and enjoy it.  We understand these guitars are really great for playing old-timey music. 

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

I keep hearing that luthiers and lutherie folks are diamonds in the rough. That is, lots of them don’t have a lot of formal schooling, but they’re really smart anyhow.  Are any members of this group particularly educated in a formal way, and how well did they do academically before they went in for lutherie work?

                                                                                                Signed, P.H. Dee, PhD

Dear P.H. Dee:

Todd Taggart quickly comes to mind.  He’s often told us that he was in the top 98% of his graduating class.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

I’ve been excited to hear about Julian Gaffney’s new all-Brazilian-rosewood (top, back, sides, neck, braces, bridge and case) guitars, but have been hearing mutterings of dissatisfaction about these instruments.  What gives?  Brazilian rosewood isn’t all that bad a bad wood, is it?

                                                                                                Signed, Rio Janeiro

Dear Rio Janeiro:

We can only say that, for reasons which we don’t have the space to get into, it is generally felt that with the recent release of his “Save the Rainforest” line of Presentation Model all-Brazilian-rosewood guitars this man has hit rock bottom and begun to excavate.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

 I’ve been on the periphery of the world of lutherie for quite some time and informally followed the careers, successes and failures of some of the more prominent members of the guitarmaking community.  I couldn’t help noticing that Ericson Reid, who had been active in guitarmaking and finishing, seems to have dropped out of sight.  Does anyone know why?

                                                                      Signed, Nah Yusseem Nahwa-Yudunt

Dear Nah Yusseem:

 This firmly-established luthier made a bad mistake some time ago in building a guitar for a very important client who was connected with the Mob.  He mistook the massage lotion for the wood glue and used it on that project.  These substances look quite alike, you know, and this is an easy mistake to make. I’ve done it myself.  Anyway, this individual had to leave town quickly and has gone into the Federal Luthier’s Protection Plan, and no one knows his whereabouts.  We think he may have been sent to Costa Rica to work anonymously.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

I’ve been hearing a lot about Ervin Somogyi lately: his unusual sense of design, his controversial politics, his pioneering nontraditional methods, his eccentric teaching style, his checkered work ethic, his highly Bohemian manners of personal behavior, his groundbreaking body of work, and the heroic array of medications that keep him going.  This guy has made quite a splash.   I hear he started out with nothing.  Is this true?

                                                                                    Signed,  Gudfur Nottingham

Dear Gudfur:

Yes. And common sentiment is that he still has most of it.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

How long have Alembic guitars been around?  I seem to have heard about them all my life.  And didn’t Rick Turner make them?

                                                                                                Signed, Old Timer

Dear Old Timer:

Turner guitars have indeed been around for a long time.  As a matter of fact, diggers at a prehistoric archeological site in North Central Southeastern Germany recently unearthed a perfectly preserved petrified wood  Rick Turner guitar.  Experts said it was the earliest example of a rock guitar they’d ever seen.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

Why do archtop guitars have so much bigger pegheads than regular acoustic guitars?

                                                                        Signed, Angelerenzorinaldi Manuelmauriccio

Dear Mr. Manuelmauriccio:

 It’s because Italians have such long last names.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

I’ve been trying to come up with a great, socko byline for my guitars, but I’m hitting a brick wall.  All the good slogans have been taken.  Do you have any advice for me?

                                                                               Signed, Looking for a good Line

Dear Looking:

Before Boaz El-Laskin got on the bandwagon with his new slogan “Guitars so good you’ll plotz!”  he was going to use “Miracle Guitars: if it sounds good, it’s a Miracle!”.  This was originally intended to be marketed to seminary students, but he changed his mind after rethinking his demographic. It’s become available should you want it.  Also, we hear that D. Angelico Corleone was going to release his new “il Padrone” model along with the slogan A Guitar You Can’t Refuse.  But, since his mysterious disappearance, that one seems to be available as well.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

I’ve been hearing about Larry Robinson’s inlay work for a long time and I finally got a hold of some of his books.  Wow.  Where does he come up with these complicated, intertwined, colorful designs and images? But aren’t they a bit on the busy side?

                                                                  Signed, Snowblinded by m.o.p.

Dear Snowblinded:

Well, yes, but overall there’s general agreement that Robinson’s work is quite a lot better than it looks.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

I’m a wealthy collector of fine things who is considering buying some guitars. My problem is that the most expensive guitars are made of rosewood, and my home is decorated in Danish modern style, so the guitars really wouldn’t match the décor.  Do you have any suggestions?

                                                                 Signed, Max from the Hamptons

Dear Max:

Why yes, I do, and your timing in asking this couldn’t be more perfect. Luddite’s Mercantile Inc. wood supplier in Healdsburg, California, has just received a large shipment of extremely expensive Brazilian rosewood which was recently culled from a pocket of the Amazon basin in which there has previously been little logging activity. This new wood is quite amazing. Far from looking like the same old dark Brazilian rosewood which everyone has been using for years, different samples of this new wood have the appearances of Danish maple, oak, Finnish birch, Dutch mahogany, and even Swedish chromed metal.  Our staff feels that guitars made from unique materials would undoubtedly make the perfect accent statements to go with your couch, curtains, or gazebo.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

 I haven’t seen any of the Greedlove guitars around in a while and I heard that the company went out of business.  What gives?

                                                                                                Signed, I. M. Curious

Dear I. M. Curious:

Unfortunately Greedlove & Co.  got involved with the advertising company that was also Enron Corporation’s former Public Relations organ.  Everything started to fall apart when, through the error of a dyslexic adman, the advertising for their new Domed-Top Guitars was spelling “domed” with a double “o”.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

I‘ve been a guitar maker for a while now, but I’m finding the politics and egos involved are complicating my enjoyment of the work much more than I ever thought such things could.  What advice do you have for a young guy with the hots to make it in this game, but doesn’t want to either take sides, get politicized, or alienate some people? 

                                                                          Signed, Disconcerted Dave

Dear Disconcerted Dave:

There are Four Golden Rules to follow in negotiating the complications and pitfalls of working with others.  First, look for the humor in every situation.  Second, don’t take sides.  Third, never tell people everything you think.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

I’m a bit disconcerted by the entry of so many foreigners into guitar making. Used to be that it was only real Americans that did this work — for instance like Roy Noble, one of the real old timers.

                                                                                    Signed, Patriotic

Dear Patriotic:

Yeah, I know what you mean, but in this case I have to pop your balloon. Roy Noble’s family originally came from Eastern Europe, where their family name was Nobulshitzky.  They shortened the name to something easier to pronounce when they arrived here.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

I’ve been reading Al Carruth’s articles for years now with increasing fascination.  He has the most impressive grasp of musical acoustics and dynamics, and all done from a very scientific point of view.  Yet, outside of his brilliant writings, no one I’ve talked to seems to know much about him.  What can you tell me about this intriguing but shadowy figure?

                                                                                                Signed, Al Anon

Dear Al Anon:

 In truth, Al is all but impossible to describe adequately.  The best I can do is tell you the fact — widely agreed on by his friends — that if there were a contest for which First Prize would be a dinner with Al, then Second Prize would be two dinners with him. Third Prize would be three dinners with him.  And so on. You get the picture.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

I understand that luthier Martin Einstein has a PhD. in philosophy and is very smart.  I met him once.  I was standing on a ladder, trying to throw a tape measure up to the top of a flagpole, hoping to catch the flagpole’s tip.  I needed to measure the flagpole’s height, you see, and I wasn’t having much luck. This fellow took one look at me and said, ‘hey, wouldn’t it be easier if you took the flagpole out of its socket, laid it out on the ground, and measured it like that?’  Then he walked on.  I thought that was a pretty silly thing to say, don’t you?

                                                                                                Signed, Flagpoleman

Dear Flagpoleman:

Yeah.  Obviously, he didn’t understand that you were trying to measure the flagpole’s height, not its width.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

 I’ve been hearing about something called the Doppler Guitar.  Is it made by someone named Doppler?  Who is he, and what are his guitars all about?

                                                                    Signed, Coming & Going

Dear Coming & Going:

The Doppler guitar is the brainchild of luthier Martin Gibson.  It’s based in the Doppler effect, in which objects approaching at high speed make a high-pitched sound and objects withdrawing at high speed emit a low-pitched sound — as when a car zooms past you on the highway as you are hitchhiking in the desert.  

This enterprising designer saw a possibility of using this principle of physics to improve the response and tonal balance of his instruments. He is, at this time, attempting to patent a guitar the sound of which has its high end boosted as the player runs toward the audience with it; and the bass register is enhanced as one runs away from the audience, while playing the guitar.  A special guitar harness is included at no extra charge, and this guitar provides something no other brand can boast of: tremendous aerobic and health benefits.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

My brother and I used to see Gustav Taylor at many guitar shows, but haven’t seen him lately.  Has he dropped out?  We’ve been really hoping to see and play some of his newer guitars.

                                                                                    Signed,  Isaiah Wahoppen

Dear Mr. Wahoppen:

I’m happy to tell you that Gustav is still making great guitars.  He went through a rough patch a while back and has simply found it hard to get to his tables at shows, because of all the restraining orders against him.  Watch for someone who looks heavily disguised and it’ll probably be him. 

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

I’ve been reading your column for years and I think you’re making this stuff up. No one could write real letters like this.  I’d like to see what would happen if you were hooked up to a polygraph.

                                                                                    Signed,  Wired for Soundness

Dear Wired for Soundness:

You’re not the first one to bring this concern up.  Not long ago I made an appointment with a luthier-polygrapher to settle people’s suspicions once and for all.  Since he too had thought that I told incredible whoppers, he hooked me up not to a polygraph but a seismograph — in anticipation of getting truer readings. The needles held rock steady.  

At least, until he plugged the machine in.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

 As a marketing student on my way to an M.B.A., I know that Ford, Oracle, 3-M, Toyota, Chef Boy-Ar-Dee, Pepsi-Cola, etc. have long since zeroed in on the perfect sound-byte for increasing sales and market share.  I’m wondering what might be the absolute best marketing slogan you’ve ever come across from a guitar maker?

                                                                               Signed, Future Biz-Whiz

Dear Future Biz-Whiz:

My personal favorite is from Ervin Somogyi’s pre-lutherie career, when he was making vacuum-cleaners.  His slogan was Somogyi; Our Products Really Suck. His business went under just before the advertising campaing that was to use this line got off the ground. Too bad; he really had high hopes for it.  We hear that he has been working on an entirely new model of guitar called “The Miracle Model”, to soon be marketed as “The Miracle Guitar: if it sounds good it’s a Miracle!”.  We wish him luck.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

My most embarrassing moment in lutherie happened one night when, in the dark, my girlfriend and I mistook the white glue for the massage lotion.  The next morning the fire department had to be called in to hose us apart.  Living in a small town, everybody was there to see the show.  It was really embarrassing.  Say, this is the “most embarrassing moments” column, isn’t it?

                                                                        Signed:  Togetherness in Tillamook

Dear Togetherness in Tillamook:

It is now.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

I really need help.  I’m an alcoholic with a bad problem that’s getting out of control.  I’d like to try one of the 12-step programs, but I can’t afford them.  What should I do?

                                                                       Signed, My Wood is Drier Than I Am

Dear Dryer Woods:

I’m glad you wrote, because there’s a fix.  Luthier’s Anonymous offers a fifteen-percent-off, ten-step, program which has had good results. To make the transition easier, L.A. takes you off the hard stuff gradually by putting you on a temporary diet of wines which are specially developed for luthiers — and which are the same stuff the National Luthier’s Guild bigwigs enjoy at their symposiums (have you ever noticed how sober they look?).   The current offerings are the award-winning Vin du Pay Forever, this year’s best near miss Chateau Clos But No cigar, the somewhat overinflated Le GrandPinot Envee’, and the perennially asymptotic Maison Clos-To-Being-Done.  Good Luck!

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

I’m puzzled by some aspects of Harry Fleishman’s persona.  In his writings, he comes across as a thoughtful, highly professional and smart guy.  But in person, when he lectures or gives classes, my impression of him is that he just woke up.  Am I missing something?  What gives?

                                                                                Signed, Puzzled in Peoria

Dear Puzzled in Peoria:

Harry really is, in fact, a phenomenally gifted, charming, witty, and urbane man of penetrating intelligence who is, after everything is said and done, sparklingly brilliant.  Because of this, the directors of lutherie events have long made it a point to ask Harry to mumble, stutter and say inane things when he makes public appearances.  It makes people in the audiences not feel so bad about themselves.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

As fur as hand-applied finishes go, do ya’ think that if’n I rubbed sausage grease all over mah guitar I could call it a French Polish finish?

                                                                                                Signed, Jes’ Wonderin’

Dear Jes’ Wonderin’:

That does it.  I quit.

DEAR DR. DOVETAIL, Part 1

Dr. Dovetail is a [humorous] advice column for luthiers.  It consists of some earnest letters of inquiry that Dr. Dovetail has been helpful with.  

Be it noted that no one is named who has objected to their name being used, and other names have been disguised to protect the innocent. There is no subtext, there are no hidden messages, there is no weirdness or backstabbing going on outside of my own silliness.  If I really don’t like someone, I certainly don’t make fun of them in public.  I go after them in other sneaky ways.

On the other hand, nothing is trickier than writing humor. It’s more difficult than any other kind of writing; it’s impossible to not offend someone, no matter how hard you try. So if this isn’t going to be quite your cup of tea, please don’t read on. 

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

My boyfriend is a luthier and I’ve been going to lutherie shows with him for some time now.  I’ve noticed something odd going on.  All the luthiers part their hair on the left.  Is this some weird membership or dress code thing?  Why do they all do this?

                                                                                        Signed, Puzzled in Topeka

Dear Puzzled:

Their mothers were all right handed.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail,

I am thinking of hiring some luthiers for my guitar factory.  I have heard that Leo Buendia is a fine luthier that I should get to work for me?  What do you think?

Signed, Anxious

Dear Anxious,

You will be very lucky to get this man to actually work for you and I would waste no time in hiring him.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

My teacher at the Roverto-Benn school gave me a lutherie problem to solve:  A famous guitarist is playing a big concert in a renown music hall in City A at 8:00 p.m. City A is 200 miles from City B, and 300 miles from City C.  A luthier in City B wants to sell the performer in question a guitar and starts hitchhiking with his guitar to City A, at noon.  He averages thirty miles an hour.  But, unfortunately, he forgets to take his medication along.  A second luthier, in City C, also wants to sell a guitar to this musician.  He starts driving his Yugo toward City A at 10:00 a.m., flooring it all the way.  He averages 40 miles per hour. Unfortunately, he leaves his concert hall tickets at one of three bars he stops at to ask for directions.

 Which luthier gets to the musician first and makes the sale? 

                                                                                                        Signed:  Al Thumbs

Dear Al Thumbs:

Obviously, the luthier at the bar who found the mislaid concert hall tickets.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

I’m a part-time luthier and computer hacker and I’ve just hacked into the central C.I.A. database files at Langley to find out what kind of dirt our top national security agency has gathered about the. board of directors of one of our larger lutherie supply organizations.  Amazing!!! These people are the most incredible bunch of misfits and ne’er-do-wells I’ve ever read about.  They’ve run their own businesses into the ground, cheated on their partners, colluded in price fixing of a vast array of their shoddy merchandise, have wild sex orgies at their annual sinposiums, and take drugs regularly.  The most disturbing thing was that none of them seems to have ever been convicted of anything.  Do these people have any previous convictions?

                                                                                    Signed,  Amazed

Dear Amazed:

Well, yes; they all used to believe that honesty is the best policy.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

I have a problem.  I have two brothers.  One is a luthier.  The other was put to death in the electric chair for murder.  My mother died in an insane asylum when I was three years old. My two sisters are both prostitutes and my father sells narcotics to high school students.  Recently I met a girl from a reformatory where she served time for smothering her illegitimate child to death.  I’m really in love with this girl and I want to marry her.  My problem is this: if I marry her, how do I tell her about my brother who is the luthier?

                                                                                                Signed, Fred in Omaha

Dear Fred in Omaha:

It’ll sound better if you tell her he’s on the Board of Directors of a  nationally prominent luthier’s supply organization with certain connections to a major national security organization.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

I understand that individual guitar makers, having no advertising budget, are forced to market their instruments by going to guitar concerts and hawking them backstage, after the shows.  Amazingly, some luthiers do very well at this.  I’m told that Jason Kostal has been particularly fortunate in this method of marketing.  How did he start?

                                                                               Signed, For The Record

Dear For The Record:

This luthier’s early career in somewhat vague, but we have an unverified report that before he was a guitar maker he made grand pianos.  He would drive them to concerts and haul them backstage to show musicians.  It was working pretty well for him, but his back eventually gave out and he needed to lift lighter things.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

Supposing you are making a guitar out of Egyptian Yew and Baltic Wormwood that have a density of six point two and five point nine pounds per cubic foot, respectively, at 26 degrees centigrade and 36% humidity.  The woods are worked to .130″ during light Santa Ana wind conditions in October, when Young’s Modulus for the topwood is precisely 3.  The braces are made out of Thuringian poplar felled at a 7000 foot elevation in December, with a grain count of 13 per centimeter.  The air cavity is 17.85 liters and the soundhole is 4.25 inches in diameter.  The bridge, made from rare aged Tasmanian Devilwood, weighs 39.7 grams at sea level at 60 millimeters of barometric pressure.

What would you expect the effect on the guitar’s 0,1,1 resonance dipole to be, and also on the impedance midrange transient of the 5000 to 8000 Hertz band (including bass signature roloff), of increasing the scale of this guitar by one centimeter?

                                                                    Signed, Scientific Guitarmaker

Dear Scientific Guitarmaker:

None at all, unless you put strings on it.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

I’ve been reading about the Kasha bracing system, with its radial asymmetrical bracing and impedance damping split bridges.  I find this radical approach thought-provoking and intriguing, as it seems to come out of a heretofore unexplored concept of guitar acoustics that has ramifications into both monocoque and structural engineering, as well as exciting implications for entirely new bracing systems.  Can you explain some of the dynamics and thinking behind this important contemporary breakthrough in guitar design?

                                                                                                        Signed, Fascinated

Dear Fascinated:

No.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

Frank Ford, of A.S.I.A.’s board of directors, is a well known repairman and an avid adherent of hide glues.  He recently wrote the definitive History of Glue.  Is this book any good?

                                                                                  Signed,  Curious about Yellow

Dear Curious:

No one on the staff here could put the book down once they picked it up.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

I hear Ervin Somogyi has broken ground as an artist by developing a new art form: woodcarving art inspired by the techniques and materials of lutherie work. Some people say this artwork-for-the-wall is pretty brilliant.  What have you heard?

                                                                                  Signed, Aesthetic Woodworker

Dear Aesthetic:

The consensus in the art gallery world and among the doyens of the National Endowment is that at least Somogyi’s wall-art work, if not the man himself, is quite well hung.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

I’m impressed with Michael Bashkin’s guitars, as well as his marketing acumen. He has worked hard at placing his instruments in the hands of prominent endorsers and is constantly striving to increase his market profile.  What advertising blitz will we, the members of the public, be treated to next?

                                                                                                Signed, MBA plunker

Dear MBA plunker:

 This man has really surpassed himself by recently signing an exclusive-use endorsement deal with the prestigious Gallaudet University Guitar Symphony Orchestra.  They love the sound of his guitars!  Look for their CD soon on the Music Mime label.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

I want to buy a guitar, but am concerned that I find one that’s made with New Age Consciousness, with regard for all living things, and with an attitude of respect for the earth.  What brand do you recommend?

Signed, Conscientious in Fargo

Dear Conscientious:

I’d try a Taylor.  They don’t use laboratory animals to test their products.  They use real consumers instead.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

It’s been a long time since anyone’s heard about Larry Robinson, the famous guitar inlay artist.  He made it Big Time in the seventies and eighties, but then ran into trouble with controlled substances, gambling debts to the Mob, various nervous breakdowns which led to hospitalizations and electroshock therapy and, of course, some sexual escapades notorious to the point of becoming legendary. What ever happened to him?

 Signed, Reminiscing

Dear Reminiscing:

The individual you named has really cut a wide swath through the barrel bottoms of life, there’s no denying.  After several attempts at drug rehab, counseling, and ultimately finding religion, his parole officer assures us that Robinson has turned his life around a full 360 degrees.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

Me and my brother-in-law Biff went into partnership to import inexpensive Mexican guitars. Our business plan has been to rent a truck, drive to Mexico, buy a load of cheap guitars, and haul them back across the border to sell.  We’ve done this a few times, buying the Mexican guitars for $50 each, driving them across the border, and selling them for $40 each, stateside.  Cash flow is terrible, and we’re just scraping by.  We’ve been tryin to figure out what to do about this situation. What do you think we oughtta do?

 Signed, Mack from El Paso 

Dear Mack from El Paso:

You obviously need a bigger truck.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

I read that the National Luthier’s Guild. recently completed some rigorous controlled listening tests on guitars made by its members. What were the findings?

   Signed, Acoustician in Nashville

Dear Acoustician:

The N.L.G. found that Nothing sounds better than a Manzer guitar.  Much better, in fact.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:            

It’s always interesting to know how various prominent luthiers got their start.  After all, it’s not as though one could go to school to learn these skills, until recently, and all  the old timers segued into guitar making from something else. One of the most fascinating individuals on the scene is Kasha Michael, who heads a world-famous enterprise that carries his name: how did he get his start in designing and making soundboxes?

 Signed, Anecdotally Curious

Dear Anecdotally Curious:

He started out making caskets for dead pets.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

 The name C.F. Martin is known the world over.  The first initial stands for “Christian”.  It seems to me that to have four generations of the most famous guitar making dynasty in the world having this name can’t be an accident in this day and age.  Do you know anything about the nexus between Christianity and guitars, which this name suggests?  There’s probably a significant history, perhaps even an entire metaphysic, involved. Can you cast any light on this?

Signed, Christian luthier

Dear Christian luthier:

 There’s been a lot of speculation about the nexus. You can read all about it in the recently published  The Day Christ Died: The Real Story Behind “X” Bracing, which is available through The Luddite’s Mercantile catalogue.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

I’ve been following Lewis Santer’s career for some years now, and I’m really impressed with his work.  What accounts for his fabulous success as a repairman?

Signed, Motown groupie

Dear Motown groupie:

This man’s work is motivated by an attitude of extremely conscientious, almost compulsive, carefulness and fastidious attention to the smallest details.  Why, he’s so meticulous that when he misplaces something, the place he finds that thing is not the last place he looks— just to make certain he didn’t lose it somewhere else!  No one else we know of functions at this level.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

I’m a psychologist and part-time luthier.  In doing archival research for my doctor’s thesis in weird personality disorders, I’ve stumbled onto the fact that Bick Doak, who is associated with the Marlin Guitar Company’s custom shop for many years, once aspired to become an engineer as well as a writer of literature.  He wrote at least one book in which he tried to combine engineering, fiction, ethics, marine science, whaling, theology and topology, but it seems to be out of print and I can’t find any references to it tell me what it was about either.  Can you help?

Signed, Rosewood Sheepskin Man in Tulsa

Dear Rosewood/Sheepskin:

Mr. Doak has indeed had a varying palette of interests in his past lives. The book you refer to is  Mobius Dick, (or What Goes Around Comes Around), which became an obscure but intensely studied cult classic some years ago. It was unfortunately doomed by vicious academic infighting between the engineering and ethics departments of the Universities at which the book was taught, that culminated in the unfortunate and subsequently hushed-up lawsuit between the Vatican and M.I.T.  Psychologists have argued that the book, which carries the author’s first name in its title, is autobiographical. Pirated versions can still occasionally be found on the Vatican’s website.  Mr. Boak is presently working on a specialty catalogue of inexpensive woods and materials for the guitar maker, titled Cheap Thrills In The Woodshop. We can hardly wait for it to come out.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

Many luthiers have had previous careers in everything from business to photography to the arts, and have been successful in these.  Furthermore, when they become guitar makers they often bring specific skills and attitudes from their former occupations with them, and use these to great advantage in mastering the skills of lutherie.  I understand that one of the most prominent female luthiers on the scene today used to be a lawyer.  What legal skills did she transfer over?

 Signed, tax-accountant/guitar maker

Dear tax-accountant:  

She actually wasn’t ever a lawyer: she was a dyslexic law student who dropped out when she found out she wouldn’t ever be joining the American Bra Association.  But, even so, she did have a bit more trouble at first than the average second-careerist in transferring her legal skills over into lutherie.  Due to a semantic misunderstanding, she believed that her guitars’ ease of playability needed to be actionable.  She made many like that. 

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

I went to the opening of a fancy new yuppie restaurant in my town and was attended by a most attractive waitress.  When she asked me what I wanted I told her that I wanted a quickie  from her, and she slapped me.  She said that she didn’t do that kind of thing, and what did I want? Brought up short as much by her reflexes as by her looks, I repeated that I really did want a quickie  from her.  She slapped me again, and said for me to forget that, and what did I really want?  I didn’t want to get hit again, so I left.  What gives?

Signed, Bubba von Dresdner

Dear Bubba:

It’s pronounced keesh.  We could recommend a good finishing school for you.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

I’ve been hearing reports about Santer Instruments but I can’t quite get a fix on them.  I hear that they have a guitar model called the “Zero Defcets”, which happens to be my name.  Can you tell me something about its founder?  

 Signed, Zero Defcets

Dear Mr. Defcets:

Miroslav Santer is a man who has achieved the American dream.  Originally an immigrant into the U.S. from New Jersey, Mr. Defcets started out with nothing.  But like many self-made men he has, through sheer hard work and will power, made his way to the very highest pointof the Bell Curve.

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Dear Dr. Dovetail:

I’ve long been fascinated at how guitar making work has attracted aficionados who previously have had other jobs, interests and careers.  I’m particularly fascinated at how these creative individuals have brought with them the skills and disciplines of their former work lives — be they training in fine arts, machining, architecture, pattern-making, cabinetwork, commercial design, music or physics — and adapted them to guitar making.  Have any luthiers come from the automobile making industry?

Signed, Edsel from Detroit

Dear Edsel from Detroit:

Why yes, there is one prominent luthier, whom we cannot name, who has come from that well-established industry.  His current main project is a guitar with listener’s-side air bags.  Frankly, it’s generally felt that his instruments really do need them.

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         Dr. Dovetail’s column will be continued in the second volume of this set.

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