Where "F" = Frequency, "V" = Volume, and "D" = Duration

As a rule, I try to keep the shopping cart between my wife and some of the more "interesting" goods on the store shelves and racks. A blocking maneuver of sorts; an attempt to prevent her from laying eyes on the countless items that she's positive she could possibly need right now. I've concluded it's a pointless effort. That became clear to me when she noticed the incredibly cute infant wear at the local "Retail Behemoth That Cannot Be Named." There are zero infants currently in the family, and--trust me on this--she's not having any babies, other than some type of omniscient interference. A surgeon, skilled in the mechanics of "mommy parts" has made that occurrence impossible.

That's a small part of what lead to the genesis of the "Ooh Formula." I'll get to the specifics of the formula in a bit; first, some background.

My wife is a grade school teacher; has been for some time. As a result of her experience, she has a level of peripheral vision that is superhuman. Her ability to spot bric-a-brac, gadgets, gee-gaws, and cute stuff is astonishing. I'm positive it's happened with stuff we've walked past and is already behind us. Here's where the "ooh" comes in....

When my wife spots something glittery, shiny, or cute....I will hear an "ooh"....just one, meaningless phoneme. It took me some time to realize it was her, making some type of primordial hoot in response to a long-forgotten hunter/gatherer instinct. I found this very interesting. Especially when I realized the "ooh's" varied in frequency, volume, and duration; much like bird songs vary for specific purposes. And, then I realized--referring to the formula referenced in the title--that (F x V x D = c) often determined the amount of money I was about to spend at the register!

There is the single, sharp "ooh", signifying something relatively trivial; a potato masher perhaps. There is the quick, staccato, "ooh,ooh,ooh"; this usually indicates something she's just remembered she needed. The greatest impact is from the long, drawn-out, "oooooooohhhhh". If I'm unsuccessful with my argument, this is gonna' cost me some money.

There are many variations to these vocalizations; with subtle and varied results. Admittedly, the formula is somewhat rough around the edges, but I think with more research I can fine tune it so that I can accompany her to a mall or store and have some confidence in my purchasing power.

Of course, I could develop some strategy to diminish her ability to spot "interesting" things altogether. I'm thinking a conversion....I'll bet the woman depicted here can't see shit. It would probably be more socially acceptable than my first brainstorm....which was to outfit her with horse blinders.

The Next Leaders of the Free World

Just look at it.....don't ask me why....I don't even really know. I feel this must be done; the universe is at peril if you don't. The originating source is www.whatthebob.com. Start Diggin', Twittering, whatever you hip youngsters do.....generate some buzz.

The Tank Driver vs the Modern Cell Phone

There it is ladies and gentlemen....the future of America's Army. He's a good kid...my nephew Andy. I'm sure he's a good soldier and will perform his duties to the best of his abilities.....but, still.

He's not exactly instilling terror in my heart. And if he sees this....no Andy, I didn't ask permission to use the picture....what are you gonna' do about it? Ha ha...just kidding....

I know why they put him in a tank....the Army is hoping the noise of the tank itself is enough to drown out his constant yammering. But I kid...he's gonna' be a fine young man....and he better be watching out for his mama and helping out when he can.

Communicating. In. Really. Little. Bits.

How many characters does it require to fully establish a thought or premise? The educational system certainly doesn't think of limiting characters--other than what a professor or teacher was willing to read in order to assign a grade, given the numbers of papers they were required to judge. In fact, I seem to recall having requirements for hundreds of words, comprising thousands of characters.

I can't get on board with some of the more popular methods of "staying in touch." Texting, Facebook, Twitter.....a pox on them. Yeah, I know, Shakespeare said "brevity is the soul of wit".....but it is the antithesis of discussion and fully formed thoughts. "Brevity" needs exorcising from the soul of discourse. I think there are serious issues and repercussions to consider, concerning the popularity of short, disjointed, and scattershot blocks of small text.

Visual media feeds information to humans in a format that is carefully designed to excite a particular part of the brain; reducing its "peripheral" abilities in a way. The bright colors and staccato movement of graphics, coupled with short segments, can induce what researchers have found to be a hypnotic effect on many people. I think it also reduces the ability to fully ponder concepts and develop deeper understandings of important issues. Here's an example.....it is May 25, 2009, and the political "flash in the pan", Tea Parties, seems to have dropped off the screen. That was quick. On to the next mass distraction...film at 11:00.

Aside from what happens to cognition in the environment I'm describing, I have another bone to pick about written communications. I happen to think the Golden Rule of writing is to produce one good sentence at a time. That's it; write a good sentence, then follow it with another. Eventually, you'll wind up with a bunch of paragraphs and chapters. It starts with the sentence though. To me, good sentences are a work of art. The spacing, rhythm, and meaning all combine to create a whole greater than its parts. And like creating a sculpture or painting, the elements can be adjusted, altered, and given different "tones", in order to evoke different feelings and meanings. But, like many other fans of the various arts, I am a bit of a style fascist, and old-fashioned to boot. So please, keep the "kewl", "l33t" crap to yourself.....don't send it to me. I would rather you wrote it on a tiny slip of paper, wadded it up, and ate it.

I'll admit, I have a Facebook page......and it's chilling every time I open it. It is the digital equivalent of opening a cold storage drawer at the morgue. Maybe it's me, maybe it's my "friends", maybe it's the medium....but I find no continuity, no real discussion, and very little of what I would describe as "real talk." The last time I looked at it--'bout 30 minutes ago--the phrase "sloganeering" came to mind. It's like looking at a wall full of campaign posters and trying to figure out what the issues might be. Huh?

The Second Dullwitted Musings

How 'bout this? How frickin' dullwitted is it that I forgot about this blog?

Holy smokes....it's like running into a friend you haven't seen in years. Alright....I'm just getting over the shock....give me a bit to work up some content. I'll try to do better than another four years....'kay?