September 27 '03

Volume 382


Cold Shower Wisconsin Adventure

Last week, Sue Smith, wife of SUPERVALU employee Raymond Smith of Jackson, MS, asked him how the scenery was in Milwaukee, WI. Raymond and I are part of a massive project in which approximately one hundred stores are changing wholesaler grocers from the now bankrupt Fleming company to SUPERVALU. Raymond is helping with "tagging" in which SUPERVALU shelf tags are placed on the shelves for the purpose of ordering product as well as to relay the retail price of an item to the consumer.

"What scenery?" Raymond laughed, "I could be on High Street in Jackson for all I know." (High Street is in downtown Jackson, MS.)

Both Raymond and I had been told the scenery in Wisconsin is beautiful, but after flying in on Sunday night, working all day in a store in the greater Milwaukee area, Raymond had seen no "scenery."

Raymond and I were on the same "tag team" for the entire week, though we probably won’t see each other during the next two weeks of the tagging project. We stayed in the same motel and ate our meals with one another. I don’t know anyone who has to stay away from home and who enjoys dining alone, so we both enjoyed the other's company.

Milwaukee is a big city and has rush hour traffic like all metropolitan areas. We opted to ride together each day rather than to use separate vehicles. Since Raymond lives in Mississippi's largest city, I asked him to drive and I'd be the navigator. He had printed several maps off the Internet and I had brought some produced by my Microsoft Streets and Trips 2000, a software program I bought a few years ago. Though we missed a few turns, we managed to always make it to our destination on time.

We only had one store outside the Milwaukee area, and it was about forty miles north in the city of Port Washington. From the Interstate, we could see some scenery. We agreed that the rolling countryside reminded us of parts of Mississippi. However there was nothing about our stay in Wisconsin that "felt" like Mississippi. I must have spoken to two dozen or more customers shopping in the stores where I worked, and I've yet to receive an acknowledgement, verbal or non-verbal. I'll be observing folks for two more weeks in Wisconsin, and I'll update readers of any improvement with regard to friendliness.

We stayed in the motel suggested on our itineraries. I doubt the person making the selection would have chosen our motel if he or she had ever seen it or stayed there, but since the cost of a room was roughly half that of the nearby Holiday Inn Express, neither of us felt we could justify the higher priced motel.

The rooms were clean enough, but the bathrooms were dated, as was the overall décor. I don't recall the last motel I stayed in that had rough cypress above a tiled, wainscoted area in the bathroom. The room temperature was controlled by a wall thermostat which did not respond to my attempts to raise or lower the temperature. Fortunately it was set on a cold selection that allowed for comfortable sleeping.

There were four plastic drinking cups in my room when I arrived on Monday night, and while I used one each night, the maid never replenished the supply, and I used the last on Thursday night. Had I really needed an extra cup, I'm sure housekeeping would have issued me one.

After about the third day of work, I told someone (maybe it was Raymond) that I felt like a farmer. I got up and went to work at first light, worked all day until it got dark, then ate supper and went to bed. And, while that is an exaggeration, it's not much of one.

My first shower in the aging motel was Tuesday morning. I was thankful for the abundant hot water as it ran into the tub before plunging the rod inward that directed the water to the showerhead. I then discovered that there was barely enough water spraying from the showerhead to wet me down. In traveling, I've noticed that a lot of motels use flow restrictive devices in bath/ shower combos, but this particular showerhead was about the poorest performer I can recall. Nonetheless, in the course of several minutes, I managed to get all lathered and rinsed.

The performance of the shower was no better Wednesday morning, either. I was just beginning to rinse my soaped areas when suddenly¾ without any warning whatsoever¾ the shower water changed to icy-cold. My body reacted violently as I pushed the palm of my hand against the showerhead hoping to shield myself from the cold water. I spun the water control lever to its hottest setting and still the cold water flowed. By the time I got the water turned completely off, I felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water one me. Certain portions of my anatomy have yet to fully recover from the shock.

It occurred to me that a motel bent on saving water might have also installed a device or timer to limit the amount of hot water used, but before stepping out of the tub, I checked the hot water faucet in the lavatory, which was within arm's reach of the tub. Warm water flowed from it, so I tried the shower again. It seemed to be working normally, though the water was not as warm as I would have preferred. As I dried off after showering, I heard water running in the room adjacent to mine and reasoned the occupant in Rm.#125 had been the root cause of my cold shower. When he or she turned on the hot water and allowed it to run into the tub before engaging the shower, that action had an adverse affect on my hot water supply for a few minutes.

Thursday morning, I figured to outsmart the occupant of Rm. #125 by taking my shower a half-hour earlier. Unfortunately, he or she had the same idea. Once again, I was midway through my morning shower when my body was shocked by cold water. While I wasn't expecting the cold water, I was better prepared to respond. I turned off the water and waited until I heard my neighbors shower start up and then resumed my bath.

I had not begun my bathing routine Friday morning, when I heard my neighbor's shower start, but I was sorely tempted to turn on my hot water full force. However, I allowed the temptation to pass. Anyway, I had no way of knowing whether or not the person in the adjoining room on Friday morning was the same individual who had given me a cold shower the previous two mornings. Plus, I am a nicer person than one might think.

I'll be home from a second week in Wisconsin by the time most readers receive this issue. I remain hopeful that I will have been privileged to enjoy better scenery, a better motel room, and better showers, by that time.


Bodock Beau You Asked Why

It's not a bad thing to ask why. In the email I received, no particular person was credited with the following questions, but I've seen some of them on other lists attributed to George Carlin. Thanks to Ken Gaillard for the submission.

1. Is it good if a vacuum cleaner really sucks?

2. Why is the third hand on the watch called the second hand?

3. If a word is misspelled in the dictionary, how would we ever know?

4. If Webster wrote the first dictionary, where did he find the words?

5. Why do we say something is out of whack? What is a whack?

6. Why does "slow down" and "slow up" mean the same thing?

7. Why does "fat chance" and "slim chance"mean the same thing?

8. Why do "tug" boats push their barges?

9. Why do we sing "Take me out to the ball game" when we are already there?

10. Why are they called "stands," when they are made for sitting?

11. Why is it called "after dark" when it really is "after light"?

12. Doesn't "expecting the unexpected" make the unexpected expected?

13. Why are a "wise man" and a "wise guy" opposites?

14. Why do "overlook" and "oversee" mean opposite things?

15. Why is "phonics" not spelled the way it sounds?

16. If work is so terrific, why do they have to pay you to do it?

17. If all the world is a stage, where is the audience sitting?

18. If love is blind, why is lingerie so popular?

19. If you are cross-eyed and have dyslexia, can you read all right?

20. Why is bra singular and panties plural?

21. Why do you press harder on the buttons of a remote control when you know the batteries are dead?

22. Why do we put suits in garment bags and garments in a suitcase?

23. How come abbreviated is such a long word?

24. Why do we wash bath towels? Aren't we clean when we use them?

25. Why doesn't glue stick to the inside of the bottle?

26. Why do they call it a TV set when you only have one?

27. Christmas is weird. What other time of the year do you sit in front of a dead tree and eat candy out of your socks?

hOW ABOUTR THAT

Aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at an Elingsh uinervtisy, it
deosn't mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod
are, the olny iprmoetnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer is in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a toatl mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit a porbelm.

Tihs is bcuseae we do not raed ervey lteter by it slef but the wrod as a wlohe.

Submitted by both H.P. Prewett and Ed Dandridge

Spade Work

An old man lived alone in Idaho. He wanted to spade his potato garden, but it was very hard work. His only son, Bubba, who used to help him, was in prison in Wisconsin. The old man wrote a letter to his son and described his predicament.

Dear Bubba, I am feeling pretty bad because it looks like I won't be able to plant my potato garden this year. I'm just getting too old to be digging up a garden plot. If you were here, all my troubles would be over. I know you would dig the plot for me. Love, Dad

A few days later he received a letter from his son.

Dear Dad, For heaven's sake, dad, don't dig up that
garden, that's where I buried the BODIES. Love, Bubba

At 4 A.M. the next morning, FBI agents and local
police showed up and dug up the entire area without finding any bodies. They apologized to the old man
and left. That same day the old man received another letter from his son.

Dear Dad, Go ahead and plant the potatoes now.
That's the best I could do under the circumstances. Love, Bubba

Submitted by Jason Carter

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