Top Ten Things Not to Do at the First Cannes Film Festival in 1946

September 21, 2020September 21, 2020 ~ John W. Howell ~ 61 Comments

Official poster of the 1st Cannes Film Festival illustrated by Leblanc

This week marks the 74th anniversary of the first Cannes Film Festival. We all want to go, I’m sure so let’s pile into the Olds and head back there. Do not forget the list, so we all can avoid a time continuum tear. All set. Let’s go.

James’ 1956 Oldsmobile from Eternal Road – The final stop

10 If you go, do not take that plastic water bottle with you. If you do, at best, everyone will be looking at movie stars and not see you. At worst, someone will observe your bottle and want one. (The problem is, Marion, the polyethylene terephthalate (PET) bottle was not invented until 1973. Now a person is yelling at you, demanding you tell them where you got the bottle. Oh-oh, A crowd and the gendarmes are headed your way.)

9 If you go, do not ask Tiny, the WWF champ, if he knows any movie stars. If you do, at best, he is pals with Lon Chaney. At worst, he does not know one. (This simple question, Markell, has caused Tiny to regress from his last group session on self-esteem. Tiny will assume everyone knows stars, and he is the only one who doesn’t. Prepare yourself for Tiny’s new wrestle hold called “The Pretzel.”)

8 If you go, do not ask directions to Palais des Festivals. If you do, at best, no one will know. At worst, you will ask a member of the planning committee. (Since the Palais des Festivals which is the home of the festival, was not built until 1952, you are now outed as either a spy or an alien, Marley. I think spy might be a better choice since there is no war going on, so you won’t be shot.)

7 If you go, do not ask which movie got the Palme d’Or this year. If you do, at best you’ll get strange looks. At worst, you’ll ask a member of the provincial government of France. (It just so happens, Marlow, that the member was in several meetings where the idea of a new award was tossed around. The current prize is Grand Prix du Festival. You now need to explain yourself. Quickly)

6 If you go, do not try to speak French. If you do, at best, no one will laugh. At worst, your American accent will cause most to walk away. (You have to realize, Marmion, not everyone appreciates you trying to speak the local language. In fact, here comes a representative of Berlitz Language Schools at the request of the locals.)

5 If you go, do not give your opinion about any of the films. If you do, at best, people will think you are a jurist. At worst, you may be overheard by a legitimate jurist. ( Now you are in it, Marque. These folks do not take impersonating a jurist lightly. Since there were only 18 jurists in total and the American was Iris Barry of MOMA, you didn’t stand a chance. Nice try with that wig.)

4 If you go, do not try to place bets that Lost Weekend by Billy Wilder will win an award. If you do, at best, no one will take the bet. At worst, even though the festival is being held in the Casino of Cannes, betting is not sanctioned. (It looks like the local gendarmes and French historian Georges Huisman acting as the Jury President want to speak to you. By the way, Marque you would have won all the bets. Too bad you can’t collect now that you are sitting in the hoosegow.)

3 If you go, do not argue with Italian director Roberto Rossellini about a better ending to his film Open City. If you do, at best, Roberto will think you are nuts. At worst, Roberto will take offense to your comments. (That glove slap to the face, Marsden means you two will be going outside for a duel. I hope you know how to use a sword or a cap lock pistol. Oh my. Well, maybe you can sneak off a Google them.)

2 If you go, do not say anything wrong about the Escargot served at the award banquet. If you do, at best, those around you may not like them either. At worst, your opinion will be overheard by the Chef. (You have to wonder, Marshal, how that person became such a renowned chef and yet be so thin-skinned. In any case, that butcher knife looks really sharp, and it may be time to test your 100 yard dash speed time.)

1 If you go, do not kid Alfred Hitchcock about the fact that his film Notorious’ three reels were shown in reverse order. If you do, at best, he’ll be preoccupied trying to find out who the projectionist was. At worst, since he’s not known as the most patient man, he will not appreciate your humor. (Alfred Hitchcock was once accused of saying, “Actors are cattle.” He violently denied the accusation, Martell, and corrected the accuser. “I never said Actors are cattle,” he argued. “What I said was actors should be treated like cattle.” So now he has a cattle prod, and you should be leaving.)

Top Ten Things Not to Do on the First Transcontinental Mail Service Route in 1858

September 14, 2020September 13, 2020 ~ John W. Howell ~ 53 Comments

Wikipedia image – Concord Coach with Welles Fargo paint

This week marks the 162nd anniversary of the first transcontinental mail service between St Louis and San Francisco in 1858. It was a stagecoach service, and who wouldn’t want to get on and take a ride. You all know the rules. You need to take the list so that the time continuum will remain intact. I would take your own water too. Life on the road will not be easy.

Top Ten Things Not to Do on the First Transcontinental Mail Route in 1858.

10 If you go, do not ask for a first-class ticket. If you do, at best, the driver will not understand you. At worst, instead of an inside seat, you’ll get to ride up on top. (You can’t blame the driver, Manvel. He thought the best spot on the coach was next to him. I hope you can handle that musket. It has a real kick. Yeah, the grin on the driver gives me the creeps too.)

9 If you go, do not complain to Tiny, the WWF champ, about the food along the way. If you do, at best, Tiny will be too busy to hear you. At worst, Tiny, who thinks the food is great, will take yours. (Well done, Manville. Now Tiny, who has questionable taste, thinks you are going to give him your food for the whole three weeks of the trip. Maybe you can trade a rattlesnake for your old food portion. Watch out when you grab that snake though.)

8 If you go, do not ask if you are there yet. If you do, everyone will think you are joking. At worst, the driver is not pleased and has stopped the coach. (Since you opened your mouth at mile 50, Maolmin, the driver is contemplating leaving you at the side of the road. After all, there are 2750 more miles to go, and he doesn’t want to hear the question 55 more times. Oh-oh, here he comes.)

7 If you go, do not complain about the restroom facilities. If you do, at best, everyone will ignore you. At worst, you’ll be sitting next to William Fargo a director of the Overland Mail Company. ( Not a good person to hear your complaint. You see, Maralyn, his company just invested one million dollars in coach stops every 10 to 15 miles, and the fact that you don’t like them is not sitting well. I think he just told you to use a bush if you are dissatisfied. That puts a different spin on it.)

6 If you go, do not forget your winter clothes. If you do, at best the weather will remain warm. At worst, you’ll be subjected to exteme temperatures. ( The coach has no heat or window glass, Marcell. Maybe you can ask the person next to you if they have an extra coat. No, you can not ask if you can share their coat. That might be an easy way to be put off in the snow.)

5 If you go, do not think you can take all the room you want. If you do, at best, the coach will be empty. At worst, all nine seets will be filled.(The coach is narrow and cramped, Marcellus. You can only have the space by your seat. I think you better stop inadvertently kicking that guy with the .44 revolver on his hip. Say didn’t Wyatt Earp carry a .44?)

4 If you go, do not think you can stay overnight in one of the way stations. If you do, at best they will have room. At worst, you’ll stay overnight and be stuck there. (Because the coaches run 24/7, Marcian, it could be several days until one comes through with an open seat. Because of this, most passengers try to sleep on the coach which is almost impossible. Try going without sleep for three weeks.)

3 If you go, do not tell the masked man with the gun that you are not going to give him your valuables. If you do, at best, he will laugh at your attempt at humor. At worst, he will invite you to do a dance. (There highwaymen do not fool around, Marden. Just give him the money. You do not want to dance to the tune of a pistol.)

2 If you go, do not forget your bandanna. If you do, at best you can buy one in the way station. At worst, you will be confronted with continual clouds of dust. (Remember, Marek, there are no windows on the coach. The dust is a constant companion, and if you are lucky, you won’t come down with consumption as a result of the trip. What is consumption? Don’t ask.)

1 If you go, do not discuss the coming transcontinental railroad with Mr. Fargo. If you do, at best, he’ll laugh. At worst, he’ll be tired of the conversation and ask the guy with the Springfield musket to put you off the coach. (Fargo is worried about the railroad, Maribelle. Of course, his business is safe until 1869 when the government turned its mail service over to the now completed transcontinental route.)

Top Ten Things Not to Do at the Battle of the Alamo

August 31, 2020August 30, 2020 ~ John W. Howell ~ 51 Comments

As you may know, I’m deeply into preparing to launch my next book, Eternal Road – The final stop. Part of that preparedness is to author a number of guest posts and announcements. Since tomorrow is the kick-off I hope you will forgive me running a post from August 27th, 2018. If you have seen it before thank you for last time. You may also like to visit Story Empire today since I’m there talking about the benefits of doing a preorder period with Amazon. Here is the link.

https://storyempirecom.wordpress.com/2020/08/31/to-pre-order-or-not-to-pre-order-that-is-the-question-a-look-at-the-benefits-of-pre-order/

The inspiration for this list is the idea of matching Ten Things Not to Do with historical events. I hope you enjoy this one.

10 If you are caught at the battle of the Alamo, do not think offering margaritas all around is going to help anything. If you do, at best, everyone will be too busy to take you up on the offer. At worst, only the best shooters on your side decided to have a couple and now can’t hit the broad side of a barn. (I guess you were hoping the Mexicans would be in a similar shape, huh, Fritz?)

9 If you are caught at the battle of the Alamo, do not ask Tiny the WWF champ if you can borrow his gun. If you do, at best, he’ll just say no. At worst, since he extremely nearsighted, he may mistake you for a Mexican soldier and give you a body slam over the wall. (It only hurts getting up, Felco so, I would just lay there.)

8 If you are caught at the battle of the Alamo, do not walk around eating a bean burrito. If you do, at best you will have to share. At worst, from far away, a sharpshooter may mistake you for a Mexican Federal soldier. ( I know you were hungry, Freddie, but the food of the day is hardtack and salt pork. Tortillas are the other side food of the day.)

7 If you are caught at the battle of the Alamo, do not wear your Santa Anna Sucks t-shirt. If you do, at best, no one will notice. At worst, Santa Anna will want it as a souvenir. ( I think you heard him right, Faris. He said he didn’t care if it was bloodstained or not. Just give it to him.)

6 If you are caught at the battle of the Alamo, do not ask Davy Crockett for an autograph. If you do, at best, he’ll just laugh. At worst, he’ll give you a lesson in flying. (You could flap your arms more, Farid, but I think you are going to hit the ground pretty hard. That wall is quite high.)

5 If you are caught at the battle of the Alamo, do not tell someone you know all about cannons if you don’t. If you do, at best you won’t be asked to fill in on one. At worst, you’ll be put in charge of the only cannon that guards the entrance. (Now what did the manual say, Fabumi? Load the ball then light the fuse? Or was it the other way around? You better hurry looks like those doors won’t last another minute.)

4 If you are caught at the battle of the Alamo, do not think it is time to start Spanish lessons. If you do, at best, you may learn a few words. At worst, whether or not you speak Spanish will not help you in the end. (It looks like the order of the day is take no prisoners, Fadeyka. I think it’s going to take a little more than a few “holas” and “Buenos Dias” to save you.)

3 If you are caught at the battle of the Alamo, do not think that sombrero and serape will be an effective disguise. If you do, at best, no one will laugh at you. At worst the troops will consider you a spy. (You know what they do to spies, Fallon. Dump that outfit now.)

2 If you are caught at the battle of the Alamo, do not wave that “Come and Take It” cannon flag from the Battle of Gonzales. If you do, at best, you will make the Mexicans angry. At worst, you will be singled out for elimination. (That flag has been a sore spot since the Texas revolution began, Falk. No need to start that fire again.)

1 If you are caught at the battle of the Alamo, do not make plans for your summer holiday. If you do, at best, your heirs will have to cancel. At worst, you may lose some of your deposits. (I guess no one told you that getting out of the Alamo was a feet-first proposition, huh, Farnley?)

Top Ten Things Not to Do at the Opening of the Louvre Museum in 1793

August 10, 2020August 9, 2020 ~ John W. Howell ~ 99 Comments

Top Ten Things Not to do

This week marks the 227th anniversary of the opening of the Louvre Museum in Paris in 1793. Of course, we want to be there for all the festivities and to view the 537 paintings and 186 objects of art that made up the original collection. As always, we must take a list of things not to do so we don’t cause a tear in the time continuum. Grab the list and a box of snuff, and let’s be off.

Top Ten Things Not to Do at the Opening of the Louvre Museum in 1793.

10 If you go, do not ask if Louis XVI is going to cut the ribbon. If you do, at best, no one of importance will hear you. At worst, the state police captain will hear your question. (You see, Matteo, Louis XVI was imprisoned a year ago, and all the art in the royal collection was declared a national treasure. The captain thinks you might be a royalist. Why is he talking to Dr. Joseph-Ignace Guillotin, the inventor of the guillotine? Yes, they are pointing at you.)

9 if you go, do not resist Tiny the WWF champ when he offers you a glass of champaign. If you do, at best Tiny with think you are ill. At worst, Tiny just missed three weeks of group sessions on self-esteem issues and thinks you don’t like him. (Never mind that you never laid eyes on Tiny before now, Mack. He has a very fragile ego, and it looks like you may have shoved him over the edge. Don’t worry, you’ll eventually get the feeling back in your limbs. It just takes a few minutes after Tiny releases the “sleeper hold.” Yes, you have to say, “uncle.”)

8 If you go, do not ask a guard for directions to the Mona Lisa. If you do, at best, the guard will not know what you are talking about. At worst, you’ll ask a secret service member. ( The Mona Lisa was not installed in the Louvre until 1804, Mauricio. Prior to that, Francois, I displayed the Mona Lisa in a semi-public art gallery at Fontainebleau, his favorite chateau. Napoleon had the Mona Lisa hung in his bedroom from 1800 to 1804. You better think fast as to why you asked the question.)

7 If you go, do not ask to see the André-Charles Boulle collection of forty-eight drawings by Raphael. If you do, at best, the person you ask won’t know. At worst, you’ll ask the fire marshall of Paris. (It so happens, Markus that the forty-eight drawings were consumed in a fire in 1720 before the Louvre being opened to the public. Not too many people know that, and now the fire marshall wants to see how you knew. Telling him you read it on a blog isn’t going to help you.)

6 If you go, do not touch any of the paintings. If you do, at best, the guard is looking the other way. At worst, you will be caught red-handed, so to speak. (The guard has now alerted the staff, Marty. A couple of huge guys are headed in your direction. I don’t think they want to talk.)

5 If you go, do not ask for a croissant to go with your coffee. If you do, at best, someone will think you sneezed and will tell you à tes/vos souhaits (“to your wishes”). At worse, the chief baker will call the police. (The croissant was not invented until 1839 by August Zang, who founded a Viennese bakery (“Boulangerie Viennoise”) at 92, rue de Richelieu in Paris, Morton. So now how are you going to explain your request? Also, you are lucky that coffee was introduced in Paris in 1669.)

4 If you go, do not ask for the gift shop location. If you do, at best the person you ask speaks no English. At worse, you ask the museum director who immediately draws up a contract and makes you sign it. (Congratulations, Murdock. You are now the curator of the gift shop. No, you can’t introduce Slushies.)

3 If you go, do not ask a guard the time. If you do, at best you’ll get a strange look. At worst, the guard will wonder if you are suffering from some kind of mental problem. (The point is, Matianio. There are over 66 churches, 92 chapels, 13 abbeys, and 199 convents, all of which rang their bells for regular services and prayers at regular times of the day. No wonder the guard thought you had a mental problem.)

2 If you go, do not expect to buy a Croque monsieur sandwich anywhere. If you do, at best you’ll have to be satisfied with bread and cheese. At worst, you might try some sweetbreads with cheese and wine. (In 18th century Paris very few people could afford meat, Marcello. The diet was made up of mostly bread and wine. Occasionally some mutton or internal organ meat became available. Of course, you could buy some leftovers from a patrician’s table which were sold by merchants. Watch out for that leftover toothpick in the mashed potatoes.)

1 If you go, you do not buy any water from a vendor. If you do at best, it will be from a clean well. At worst, it will be pulled from the hopelessly polluted Seine. ( There are a couple of brothers named Perrier, Mikel starting a business delivering three million liters a water a day using steam-powered pumps at Chaillot and Gros-Caillou. Maybe they are on to something.)

Top Ten Things Not to Do On a Trip Under the North Pole in 1958

August 3, 2020August 2, 2020 ~ John W. Howell ~ 57 Comments

Top Ten Things Not to Do

This week marks the 62nd anniversary of the historic submerged trip of the nuclear submarine Nautilus under the North Pole ice cap. All those who don’t suffer from claustrophobia certainly want to go along. Of course, we need to take a list of things not to do to make sure our actions don’t alter the course of history. So grab the list, and let’s head out.

10 If you go, do not touch that valve that says do not move. If you do, at best it is the TV control. At worst, it is the doomsday valve designed to fill the ship with water for scuttling. (Okay, Maddox. Lucky for you, the captain knows how to reverse the action. You need to get a mop and bucket and pick up the water.)

9 If you go, do not get in Tiny the WWF champ’s way when the chow bell rings. If you do, at best, there will be a doorway you can duck into. At worst, because of the close quarters, you and Tiny will be having a moment. (Don’t try to get up, Mateo. The medical man will be here shortly. You sure look flat, though.)

8 If you go, do not ignore the klaxon horn and the announcement of the dive. If you do, at best, your wet feet will give you a clue to get inside. At worst, you will now attempt to beat the world’s record for treading water. (Yeah, don’t worry, Major. The boat will be back sooner or later. They plan to stay submerged for 1830 miles, so make yourself comfortable. Thank heavens for that cute duckie ring life preserver you are wearing.)

7 If you go, do not ask to visit Santa. If you do, at best, the crew will think you are joking. At worst, they’ll shoot you out the torpedo tube when the Nautilus reaches the North pole. ( Now you have a bigger problem, Murphy. The ice at the pole is fifty feet thick. I hope you can find a hole somewhere. In any case that holding breath exercise you did in palates class may come in handy.)

6 If you go, do not tell the captain that the compass heading is wrong. If you do, at best, he will ignore you. at worst, he will make you comfortable in the excellent brig down below. ( The point is, Marvin navigation beneath the arctic ice sheet is confusing. Above 85°N, both magnetic compasses and normal gyrocompasses become inaccurate. A unique compass was installed, which is the one the navigator is using. Excuse me, did you order bread and water for lunch?)

5 If you go, do not tell the crew you think the hull is going to collapse. If you do, at best they will be too busy to hear you. At worst, they’ll send you to the infirmary for a calmative. (The hull and sail of the Nautilus vibrate, Magnus. Everyone on board except you knows that fact. It is one of the things that required attention to future nuclear subs. How’s that calmative working? No, you can’t have another hit.)

4 If you go, do not ignore the announcement that the boat is entering the Bering Strait. If you do, at best, there will be enough room for the bost to pass. through. At worst, the ice is at least 60 feet thick, and there won’t be room between the ice and sea bottom. (So now you are wondering what all that scraping noise is, Morris? The captain has to find a different way, which he does. You can change your underwear right in there.)

3 If you go, do not have the intent to eat your garlic salami sandwich that you brought on board. If you do, at best someone will take it from you. At worst, you’ll bite it, and the captain will declare an emergency. (Now look at what you’ve done, Melvin. The captain was forced to surface to save the crew from garlic poisoning. There goes an underwater record. There is a message from President Dwight Eisenhower that he would like to see you when the boat gets back to the US. I don’t think it is to congratulate you.)

2 If you go, do not ask the captain when he plans to make the next fuel stop. If you do, at best he will be laughing so hard he’ll forget the question. At worse, he will ask you why you are interested in a fuel stop. (Now that the captain is suspicious of you, Mathias, are you going to tell him you were jonesing for a slushie? Better than to have him thinking you were going to harm his boat. You see, the next fuel stop is ten years off.)

1 If you go, do not try to open that hatch before the green light comes on. If you do, at best, you’ll get wet. At worst, the captain will want to ensure that you never ride on his submarine again. (Lucky for you, Milton, the pressure of the sea kept the hatch closed. A couple more seconds and it would have cleared the surface. Now you need to get the wet vac and clean up this mess.)

Top Ten Things Not to Do During A Lunar Rover Mission in 1971

July 27, 2020July 26, 2020 ~ John W. Howell ~ 75 Comments

This week marks the 49th anniversary of Appollo 15 Astronauts using a vehicle to drive on the moon. Of course, we all want to go with them, and through the magic of our imagination, we can. We do have to follow a few rules, and so this list has been developed to keep you from causing a tear in the time continuum. Hop aboard the imagination time thingy, and off we go.

Top Ten Things Not to Do During a Lunar Rover Mission in 1971.

10 If you go, do not ask Dave Scott, the mission commander, if you can take Jim Irwin’s place on the ride. If you do, at best, Dave may not hear you through the sunspot static. At worse, Dave will let you drive. (That was smart, Michael. You have no idea how to work this thing, and you are now headed for that vast crater. Of course, this buggy can be replaced for $10,000,000. You can pay for it out of your book royalties. Hahaha)

9 If you go, do not ignore Tiny the WWF champ when he gives you a direction from mission control. If you do, at best, Tiny will provide you with one more chance. At worst, you think you are safe from Tiny up here on the moon. (Feel that heat, Mark. That is the pre-ignition warm-up of the rocket in your pants. You see, Tiny can put you in orbit. It looks like the countdown has begun.)

8 If you go, do not complain about the 8 MPH speed of the lunar rover. If you do, at best, you won’t get another ride. At worst, the commander will take you out to the furthest point and leave you there. (You now need to know what “walk back limit” means, Mica. It is the furthest point you can go and yet walk back to the lunar lander before your oxygen runs out. I hope you can hold your breath cause you were dropped off outside the walk back limit.)

7 If you go, do not mess with the equipment. If you do, at best you won’t mess up anything. At worst, you will tinker with the Sun shadow device. (That was the one thing not to touch, Moses. It is the navigational device that keeps the lunar rover in contact with the lander using the sun. The purpose is so the rover doesn’t get lost. Good thing there is still a gyro device, or you might get a tour of the dark side of the moon.)

6 If you go, do not plug your phone into the battery system to play tunes. If you do, at best, someone will tell you to knock it off. At worst, playing your music will wear down the batteries. (The only power cells carried on the mission are 36 volt, silver-zinc potassium hydroxide non-rechargeable batteries. They are suitable for a 57-mile range. Sure hope you are not out that far, Marcus.)

5 If you go, do not ask if we are there yet. If you do, at best, Dave Scott will ignore you. At worst, he will finally give up and tell you to walk back to the lander. (Since the maximum distance traveled on the lunar rover during the Apollo mission was 17.25 miles, Miguel it is no wonder Dave wants you out of the vehicle.)

4 If you go, do not ask how far to the next rest area. If you do, at best, Dave Scott will be talking to Mission Control. At worst, he will give you additional instructions on the capabilities of your suit. (You need to relax, Mitchell. There are no rest areas on the moon. Gives new meaning to the term, “hold it.”)

3 If you go, do not tell Dave Scott someone stole the steering wheel. If you do, at best, Dave will think you are joking. At worst, he’ll realize you know nothing about the lunar rover. (The rover is controlled by a T-stick controller, Milo. Push forward and you go ahead. Right or left to go right or left. Pull back, and the brakes are engaged. Press that little button while pulling back, and the rover goes into reverse. Dave is now asking you to get out of the control seat. You blame him?)

2 If you go, do not let Dave Scott know you have AAA in case of a breakdown. If you do, at best, he’ll think you are nuts. At worst, he will call Mission Contro and ask permission to lock you in the lander. (The whole idea of AAA on the moon is laughable, Miles. The fact that you said that out loud gives Dave grave concerns about the mission safety.)

1 If you go, do not offer to play your road trip CD. If you do, at best, you will get a polite decline. At worst, you’ll now have to explain what a CD is. (The CD was first sold in 1982, Marshall. The crew has never heard of it. It is not going to help to turn up the volume on Willie Nelson’s “On the Road Again.” You have these guys concerned.)

Top Ten Things Not to Do on the First Around the World Solo flight with Wiley Post in 1933

July 20, 2020July 20, 2020 ~ John W. Howell ~ 56 Comments

This week marks the 87th anniversary of Wiley Post’s solo flight around the world, which he accomplished in 1933. We all would love to be with him on the plane. There is one problem in that If we join him on the flight it would not be a solo for him. I think we can work out something where time travelers don’t count as real people. (Oh, come on. Work with me here.) If you want to go, you need to take a list of things not to do so that we don’t put a big ole rip in the time continuum.

10. If you are going on the flight, do not ask if we are there yet. If you do, at best, Wiley will be too busy to hear you. At worst, since you said it just after take-off, Wiley is going to let you test the spare parachute. (I think it would have been good to wait a little linger, Lyonia. After all, the flight lasted 7 days, 18 hours, and 49 minutes. Yeah, that strap goes between your legs. No, I don’t know what you yell, going out the door.)

9 If you are going on the flight, do not ignore Tiny the WWF champ when he tells you your suitcase is too heavy. If you do, at best, Tiny will get distracted. At worst, Tiny will figure out a way to lighten it for you. (You see, Lysander, Tiny is in charge of loading the plane, and he is not used to being ignored. Oh, look. He has dumped your suitcase on the tarmac. You sure that is your suitcase. Those are pretty fancy unmentionables you have there.)

8 If you are going on the flight, do not ask when the beverage service starts. If you do, at best, the noise of the aircraft will effectively mute you. At worst, Wiley will offer that you test the guest parachute, but unfortunately, it has already been tested by Lyonia. (This presents a problem, Liam. I think I would tell Mr. Post that you are okay for now. Might be more comfortable than learning to skydive with no chute.)

7 If you are going on the flight, do not ask where the first-class section is located. If you do, at best, Wiley will think you are joking. At worst, when he discovers you are not, he will make you a private first-class section in the back. (Don’t look now, Lucas, but you are sitting in what used to be called the mailbag section. I agree it is not very comfortable. Too bad you can’t stand up either.)

6 If you are going on the flight, do not touch anything in the cockpit. If you do, at best, it won’t be essential. At worst, you just shut off the Sperry autopilot device. (I would tell Wiley, Levi. Yeah, he’s going to be mad at you, but that will be better than getting lost over Russia.)

5 If you are going on the flight, do not make fun of the plane’s name Winnie Mae. If you do, at best, Wiley will be on the radio and not hear you. At worst, he’ll explain that the plane was named after his first mentor’s daughter. (Now you have a choice, Leo. Give a big ole apology or take a big ole step into the atmosphere. I thought you would choose the former.)

4 If you are going on the flight, do not pretend you know how to speak Russian. If you do, at best, there will be no need for an interpretation. At worst, the autopilot will need repair, and the only place to stop is Russia. (What are you going to do now, Lawrence? The instrument needs repair, and everyone is looking at you for directions. I think it might be time to hit the way back button. Those Russian soldiers don’t have much of a sense of humor.)

3 If you are going on the flight, do not ask Wiley Post about his eyepatch. If you do, at best, he will ignore you. At worst, he tells you the story of how he lost his eye in great detail. (Hold on Lorenzo. Wiley is getting to the exciting part where a piece of drilling equipment took his eye in 1926. I know it is a little gruesome, but you had to ask.)

2 If you are going on the flight, do not bring up Wiley’s career as an armed robber. If you do, at best, he will want to laugh it off. At worst, he’ll tell you the story. ( You’ve heard the expression, “If I tell you then I’ll have to kill you?” Lance. Well, Wiley did 12 months for stealing a car in 1921. He does have a murderous look in his eye.)

1 If you are going on the flight, do not ask Wiley how many award miles you will get for the trip. If you do, at best he will not understand you. At worst, he will tell you that you will have earned enough miles to win a Bentley Turbo. (You have to wonder why he keeps laughing, Larry. I think you may be the butt of a Wiley flying solo 1933 joke.)

Top Ten Things Not to Do at the First MLB All-Star Game in 1933

July 6, 2020July 5, 2020 ~ John W. Howell ~ 89 Comments

Comiskey Park

Today marks the anniversary of the first major league baseball all-star game. It was held in Comiskey Park in Chicago on July 6th, 1933. For all you baseball lovers who have not been able to enjoy the game since the pandemic started, please come along to this fateful day. Don’t forget to take this list with you since it may help you from making a time travel faux pas that could result in a tear in the time continuum.

Top Ten Things Not to Do at the First MLB All-Star Game in 1933.

10 If you go, do not complain about the choice of players. If you do, at best, you’ll be ignored. At worst, you’ll be overheard by Arch Ward, the sportswriter for the Chicago Tribune, who organized the event. (The problem with your complaint, Linwood is the players were selected by the fans from fifty cities across the country. Arch Ward set the whole thing up, including fan voting, and if looks could kill, you would be on a cold slab right now.)

9 If you go, do not ask Tiny the WWF champ if he can get an autograph of some of the players for you. If you do, at best, Tiny will be busy signing autographs himself. At worst, Tiny has been standing around for hours, and no one has asked for his autograph. (You must understand, Livingston, Tiny is the first client to ever be expelled from the self-worth seminar as a hopeless case. This was not a good time to ask for a favor. Go ahead and ask Tiny if he wouldn’t mind not standing on your foot. I know his breath is hot but you could at least ask.)

8 If you go, do not ask about the National League uniforms. If you do, at best, no one will know what you are talking about. At worst, they will wonder why you are asking. (You see, Llwyd only you know that except for this first all-star game all the players show up in their home team uniforms. So seeing the National League in specially made gray uniforms and navy blue caps was a surprise. )

7 If you go, do not wonder aloud how many of the players present will end up in the baseball hall of fame. If you do, at best, the person hearing you will think you are drunk. At worst, you will be wondering aloud to Kenesaw Mountain Landis, the commissioner of baseball. (Landis will, of course, tell you immediately to mind your own business, Lochlann. For the sake of history, the answer to your question is twenty of the 36 players have been inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame. Better look out, Landis is talking to Babe Ruth and pointing at you.)

6 If you go, do not ask for a box seat. If you do, at best, the ticket agent will ask for your reservation. At worst, you’ll be told that the box seats are for celebrities and the rich only. (The box seat costs $1.65, Lootah. Not too many could pay that kind of money during the depression. That would be $31.36 in 2020.)

5 If you go, do not complain about your Cracker Jack prize. If you do, at best, the concession person will give you sympathy. At worst, the stadium manager will toss you out. (In 1933, Loren the Cracker Jack company switched the prize selection to almost exclusively toys. The outside of the box is marked “Toy inside.” There are no rings or other household items in the box any longer. The Stadium manager threatened to toss the third person who complained. The second just walked away.)

4 If you go, do not forget to get a program. If you do, at best, there will be one on the ground. At worst, you’ll miss out on the opportunity to have such stars as Babe Ruth, Lefty Grove, Jimmy Foxx, Lou Gehrig, Al Simmons, and Joe Cronin sign your program. (Not to mention even unsigned the original program goes for $379.00, Loring)

3 If you go, do not ask where you can get an autographed ball. If you do, at best, no one will know. At worst, Arch Ward will wonder how you found out about the balls. (Before the game Arch had sixty balls autographed by the players, and then he gifted them to special friends of major league baseball. He is now wondering how you found out, Lothair. That ball is for sale today at $14,999.00)

2 If you go, do not mention that the all-star game is an annual event called “Midsummer Classic.” If you do, at best folks will think the sun got to you. At worst, Arch Ward will think you are trying to steal his idea. (I think I would tread lightly around Arch, Loughlin. He seems rather sensitive about his event. I don’t think it is an accident that he is talking to that big security guard and looking over here.)

1 If you go, don’t forget to congratulate the winners. If you do, at best no one will notice. At worse, the American league will think you are a sore loser. (The American League won the first all-star game 4 to 2 in front of 47, 595 fans. I’m sure they would appreciate your congratulations, Lowell.)

Top Ten Things Not to Do at the Dedication of the UNIVAC , The First Commercially Produced Electronic Digital Computer in 1951

June 15, 2020June 14, 2020 ~ John W. Howell ~ 81 Comments

Top Ten Things not to do

This week marks the anniversary of the dedication in 1951 of UNIVAC, the first commercially produced electronic digital computer. The computer was designed and built for the Census Bureau. The engineers that developed the UNIVAC, J. Presper Eckert and John Mauchly sold their company to Remington Rand in 1950 before the launch. If you want to go and be part of the dedication, please take this list with you. We all know we must be cautious when time traveling to prevent any tears in the time continuum.

Top Ten Things Not to Do at the Dedication of the UNIVAC computer in 1951.

10 If you go, do not make comments regarding the size of the computer. If you do, at best, no one will pay attention to you. At worse, you are overheard by Eckert. (Yes, the machine is enormous, Lancelot. It weighs 16,000 pounds, but Eckert looks a little upset since this model is about a quarter the size of his last. I think you might apologize quickly.)

9 If you go, do not try to teach Tiny the WWF champ any programming language. If you do, at best he’ll think you are kidding. At worst, Tiny will realize that he is not teachable. (You have a bit of a problem, Landry. You see, Tiny has been ordered by the court to attend self-esteem group sessions. The last session got him to know that he was okay. Your attempts to explain basic programming just set him back four years. He’s looking for someone to blame. Point at John Mauchly quick.)

8 If you go, do not scoff when J Presper Eckert brags about the ability of the machine to perform 1905 instructions per second. If you do, at best, he will think you have hay fever. At worst, he’ll call upon you to explain your scoff. (You are on the spot now, X. See when you scoff knowing your iPhone can do 3.2 billion instructions per second you are going to have a tough time explaining your way out of this one. Maybe you should just admit to hay fever.)

7 If you go, do not make jokes about the heat from the 5000 vacuum tubes. If you do, at best, one or two may get the joke. At worst, John Mauchly will ask you to take your marshmallow stick and leave the premises. (Now you have made him angry, Langley. Of course, he doesn’t know that transistors would be available within five years. If he did, he would think you were a genius instead of ending up upside down in the alley.)

6 If you go, do not take your iPad. If you do, at best, people will think it is a clipboard. At worst, J Presper Eckert will spot you doing some calculations on it. (Don’t worry, Laochailan. Just hit the screen hide and show him your clipboard screen saver. He’ll never know.)

5 If you go, do not ask Eckert about punch card inputs. If you do, at best, he will be flattered since there are none. At worst, he ‘ll be insulted since he and Mauchly worked hard to make a digital electronic input system without the need for punch cards. (Now you have Eckert yelling at you, Laramie. He thinks you are a punch card fan and too dumb to recognize his achievement. Just tell him you were kidding and to put that chair back under the desk.)

4 If you go, do not ask to speak to someone from the computer science department. If you do, at best no one will be available for weeks. At worst, you will talk to a person who will speak a different language. (Not to worry Largo. Here is a handy reference for talking to computer science people. There are three columns and twenty rows of words. All you have to do is pick a word from one column, add it to another word in the next column, and finally tack it on to a third word. Put it all in a sentence, and you are good to go. For example. “Can you guys integrate bipolar terminals and publish a report on the results?” The guy will say he’ll look into it but is totally impressed.)

3 If you go, do not mention IBM around anyone in the room. If you do, at best, you will be near the coffee server. At worst, you’ll be taken as a spy. (Well, Larue, how does it feel sitting here with the eggshells?)

2 If you go, do not ask Eckert if the computer can predict presidential elections. If you do, at best, he’ll laugh. At worst, he’ll want to know where you got the information on his secret pet project. (Of course, Laszlo you didn’t read your history. You didn’t realize the UNIVAC surprised the world by predicting the outcome of the election of Dwight D. Eisenhower’s unexpected landslide victory in November of 1952. You now have a lot of explaining to do.)

1 If you go, do not ask Eckert and Mauchly why they sold their company to Remington Rand. If you do, at best, both will be talking to someone else and not hear you. At worst, they will help you out to the ally, which has been your home away from home, it seems. (The problem is Lathan these guys are terrific engineers but horrible businessmen. They were lucky to see before they went bankrupt.)

Top Ten Things Not to Do at The First Mention of Scotch Whisky in 1495

June 1, 2020May 31, 2020 ~ John W. Howell ~ 70 Comments

Scots whiskey

This week marks the 525th anniversary of the development of Scot’s whiskey. Although we are not certain of the exact date, it was this week that commemorates the written evidence of its existence. I published this post last year, but I think some of you may have missed it. Here it is again.

The anniversary of the first written record of Scotch Whisky appears in Exchequer Rolls of Scotland in 1495, and Friar John Cor is the distiller. What is not recorded is how the folks at the time reacted to this new development. Just in case time travel becomes a reality, here is a list of Things Not to Do as you visit this new development. The hope is it will keep you out of trouble or, more importantly preventing you from causing a tear in the time continuum that might preclude the development of this beneficial elixir. (gasp) So if you are going, take this list and be careful. You will have the benefit of all humankind in your hands.

10 If you witness the mention of Scotch whiskey in 1495, do not ask for your portion on the rocks. If you do, at best, no one will understand you. At worst, your host will think you odd but will add some stones to your chalice. (Ignoring the fact that you don’t know where these rocks have been, Hido, you need to smile and drink your portion. Yeah, overlook those little floating bits at the top.)

9 If you witness the mention of Scotch whiskey in 1495, do not forget to tip Tiny the WWF champ who is an usher at Lindores Abbey in Fife. If you do, at best Tiny will make sure you miss the tasting by ten minutes. At worst, Tiny, who just finished losing his jousting match, will view your oversight as a vote for his opponent. (Now you have gone and done it, Hilton. Tiny is still trying to recover his self-esteem, and that piece of silver would have gone a long way. Might as well relax during the spinning body drop. It only hurts for a little while.)

8 If you witness the mention of Scotch whiskey in 1495, do not be confused by the description ‘aqua vitae VIII bolls of malt.’ and ask out loud, ‘where’s the Scotch whiskey?’ If you do, at best, everyone will be confused. At worst, the guards will take you to the tower for a few questions like, ‘How long have you practiced witchcraft?’ (Might be best to tell the guards you have the flu and were out of your head with fever, Hiram. That rack looks like it might be painful.)

7 If you witness the mention of Scotch whiskey in 1495, do not attempt to get on your horse to ride back to the inn after you’ve sampled a few flagons of Brother John Cor’s invention. If you do, at best, you’ll realize it is not the thing to do. At worst, you and your horse will eventually be pulled over by James IV’s guards and booked into the dungeon. (Apparently, there is a law against riding under the influence (RUI), Holland. Now you are going to have a permanent record on file.)

6 If you witness the mention of Scotch whiskey in 1495, do not ask for chips and salsa to go with your portion. If you do, at best, you’ll get a joint of mutton. At worst, the king’s chef will demand to know how to make this chips and salsa thingy you requested. (Looks like this guy is a relative of Tiny the way he keeps swinging that butcher knife around, Holman. You know how to make it right? If not, you know how to run, don’t you?)

5 If you witness the mention of Scotch whiskey in 1495, do not volunteer when Brother John Cor talks about a smoke. If you do, at best you’ll have helpers to fetch the peet. At worst, everyone else knows John Cor is not talking about a doobie but needs more peet to fire up his malting operation. (That peet operation is dirty and sweaty, Homayoun. You gotta dig bricks of it and carry it five miles to the abbey. You want to avoid this if at all possible. Of course, now it is too late. Better hit the time machine and disappear.)

4 If you witness the mention of Scotch whiskey in 1495, do not ask for a jug to go. If you do, at best John Cor will think you are joking. At worst, he will try to find something to house the scotch. (Sadly, all he can find is an earthen pot that was used to feed the dog, Honon. Your first sip at home will let you know that the dog’s primary food source was whatever the humans didn’t want. Your scotch now has the essence of hog entrail with a finish of fish head.)

3 If you witness the mention of Scotch whiskey in 1495, do not suggest putting the whiskey aside for twelve years. If you do, at best, all the king’s men will laugh you off the island. At worst, John Cor will. take your suggestion, and there will be no scotch before it’s time. (Your only worry now, Hormheb is how to avoid ten thousand archers, lancers, swordsmen, catapult operators, and knights for the next twelve years. Yeah, I didn’t think you wanted to try. Hit the way back machine.)

2 If you witness the mention of Scotch whiskey in 1495, do not try to explain soda to John Cor. If you do, at best, he will be confused. At worst, he will be offended that you think his product needs enhancement. (You can stop singing the song ‘Scotch and soda, mud in your eye, baby do I feel high, oh, me oh, my,’ Hosea. John is still not going to unlock that dungeon door.)

1 If you witness the mention of Scotch whiskey in 1495, do not put on a tartan kilt without knowing its history. If you do, at best, no one in the abbey is at war with the clan represented by what you are wearing. At worst, you picked the tartan of the most aggressive clan on the island. (You have two choices, Houman. Either pick up that broad sword and start defending yourself or drop the kilt and try to convince those advancing Scots that you were just joking. Maybe the fact that you don’t wear underwear under a kilt will underscore your claim of a joke.)