The Lap Dog Experiment

Kasey came to us a little rough around the edges.  What the heck — she was a rescue dog obtained at the Humane Society, coming from an unknown, possibly troubled past.  It was no surprise that she growled at me from time to time, charged at other dogs on the street, and otherwise displayed some clearly aggressive tendencies.

IMG_2865But — as was the case in the plot of My Fair Lady — could this dirty-faced, territorial pooch become a fully domesticated, docile, mannerly lap dog?  If so, how?  It’s the kind of scientific experiment in heredity versus behavioralism that would have intrigued Pavlov.

I’m pleased to report that our little experiment in cultured canine behavior has now concluded, and Kish has once again brought another dog fully to heel.  She’s like the dog whisperer, except it’s really hugs and kisses that seem to do the trick.  Whatever her secret, Kasey now is perfectly happy to sit on Kish’s lap on the sofar, and she follows Kish around just like Penny did, and Dusty did before Penny.  Kish has just got the knack.

Do you have a poorly behaved, barky, jerky dog?  My lovely wife may be able to help.

The Rise Of The Knife-And-Fork Sandwich

I like a good sandwich at lunch.  These days, however, it is getting increasingly difficult to find a true sandwich — that is, something tasty placed between two pieces of some kind of bread that you can pick up in your hand and eat without too much muss or fuss.

IMG_6130There’s no problem with the tasty part, that’s for sure.  Take this delightful double cheeseburger I got today from deNovo Bistro and Bar, one of the many good restaurants on High Street in the downtown area.  It was very savory, indeed, with its medium rare beef, sliced onion, and melted cheese and sauce.  The dusted fries were excellent, too.

No, it’s the pick up in your hand without muss or fuss part that has become the problem.  The amount of food being put between the bread slices — and especially the heapings of melty, saucy concoctions that make your mouth burst with flavor — just make it impossible for you to take a bite out of a handheld sandwich.  If you try, you’re going to end up with food falling to the plate and onto your lap, hands that are covered with goo, and a paper napkin that is soaked and probably ripped to shreds, besides.  Unless you want to look like a slob and run the embarrassing risk of stray dogs racing over to lick your fingers clean you need to recognize reality and use the civilized utensils to slice up and wolf down these gooey, overflowing masterpieces.

So call it the emerging era of the knife-and-fork sandwich.  It’s not necessarily a bad thing, just . . . different.  If the Earl of Sandwich could eat some of these creative approaches to his namesake, I honestly don’t think he would mind.

Emoticon Creep

Recently I received an email at work from outside the office that had an emoticon at the end of it — I think it was the ever-present winker — and I groaned inwardly.  Is nothing sacred?  Is there no place that can’t be invaded by the emoticon wave?

I admit that it’s odd to think of the workplace emailbox as sacred ground, but you’ve got to draw the line somewhere.  I am not a big fan of emoticons, because I think they tend to trivialize and infantilize our communications.  There is a time and a place to be slouchy and casual, and a time and place to be more formal and serious.  In my book, the workplace should fall into the latter category, and work-related communications should reflect that reality.  The office is where people are supposed to go to work, not exchange winks.

I admit, too, that I often don’t know precisely what emoticons are supposed to mean.  Does a person put the smiler emoticon at the end of a message to make sure that you know that their message is supposed to be funny?  Is it now universally accepted that you can write something harsh but use the winker emoticon as a tag line, and everyone is supposed to understand it’s all just a joke and take no offense?  Is the emoticon supposed to substitute for the facial expression the email writer would be making if we were sitting across from each other?  If so, how am I supposed to take the stupid face-with-tongue-out emoticon?

I get the sense that we’re in a period of severe emoticon creep, so now is the time for those of us who want to maintain the office as an emoticonless sanctuary to pay special attention.  Eternal vigilance is the price of winker-free communications.