Tag: Top Ten Things Not to Do

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

~ 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.

Top Ten Things Not to Do on a Submerged Trip Under the North Pole Icecap in 1958 by John W. Howell © 2020

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

~ John W. Howell ~ 75 Comments
Top Ten Things Not to Do
The U.S. Apollo Lunar Roving Vehicle from
Apollo 15 on the Moon in 1971

 

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 at the Launch of Twitter in 2006

~ John W. Howell ~ 84 Comments

 

Top Ten Things Not to DO
Twitter Logo History

This week marks the 14th anniversary of the launch of Twitter. Although most of us are probably Twitter users today, it might be fun to go back and take in the sights and sounds of that first occasion. As always, take this list, so you don’t inadvertently cause a tear in the time continuum.

Top Ten Things Not to Do at the Launch of Twitter in 2006 by John W. Howell © 2020

10 If you go, do not mention iTunes to co-founder Evan Williams. If you do, at best he’ll be talking to someone else and miss the reference. At worst, you’ll get the Silicon Valley version of the stink eye. (You probably forgot, Loyal that when iTunes launched in 2005 Apple put Willaims’s podcasting business out of business. I think he is going to follow that stink eye with a black eye. It will be yours, of course.)

9 If you go, do not send Tiny the WWF champ any Twitter messages that contain abbreviations. If you do, at best, Tiny won’t have his phone turned on. At worst, he will become confused as to what you are saying. (You have to know, Lucan that a confused Tiny is a dangerous Tiny. Oh look, he has adopted his sumo wrestler stance. It could be he thinks LOL means Lay on Lucan)

8 If you go, do not correct the spelling of the service which was launched as Twttr. If you do, at best folks will think it’s a joke. At worst, Noah Glass a co-founder, and the one who came up with the name, Twitter, will think you stole his idea. (It looks like ole Noah has spent some time in the gym. I’m not sure you want to spar with him, Ludlow.)

7 If you go, do not ask to send the first tweet. If you do, at best, you’ll be ignored. At worst, Jack Dorsey, the engineer who came up with the concept, will not like you. (In case you didn’t know, Ludwik Jack was the first to send a tweet under his handle @jack. He sent the message, “Just setting up my twttr.” Now that he is finished, it looks like he is picking out a hammer from that table of tools. I wonder what he wants to do with that hammer?”

6 If you go, do not pull out your iPhone to send a tweet. If you do, at best everyone will be busy with setting up their own accounts and not notice. At worst, Evan Willians will spot your phone. (Since the iPhone was launched a year after Twitter, Luis, Evan will no doubt think you are from another planet. That won’t stop him from wanting your phone. Looks like he is borrowing Jack Dorsey’s hammer.)

5 If you go, do not tell Evan that you think he should allow more than 140 characters in a tweet. If you do, at best, Evan will think you are an idiot. At worst, Evan will wonder why you are making this suggestion. (You see, Lukman at the time of the Twitter launch SMS messages were limited to 140 characters. Once that limit was lifted, Twitter still hung on to 140 characters until 2017. Evan is heading over to tell you to mind your own business.)

4 If you go, do not ask if you can buy some stock. If you do, at best everyone will get a big laugh. At worst, Evan Williams will think you have been reading his private e-mails. (He does plan to take the company public, Luthais but not until there are more users. He waits until 2013 when there are 200 million subscribers and then offers stock at $29.00. The stock closed that first day at $44.90. Last Friday, it was worth $35.40. The company itself is estimated to be worth $31 Billion.)

3 If you go, do not try to describe Donald Trump’s use. If you do, At best, no one will take you serious. At worst, Evan Williams will want to know where you get your information. (Now you have completely blown your cover, Lyaksandro. Right now, the idea of Donald Trump even running for president, makes the average person laugh out loud. Good luck in getting out of this mess.)

2 If you go, do not tell Evan Williams that he will step away from Twitter in 2019. If you do, At best he won’t believe you. At worst, he will accuse you of working for Mark Zuckerberg at Facebook. (Of course, Lycus eventually Evan will leave Twitter to pursue other interests. Jack Dorsey will take over as CEO. We shouldn’t feel too sorry for Evan as he is worth $1.8 billion)

1 If you go, do not ask about privacy on Twitter. If you do, At best no one will know what you are talking about. At worst, Jack Dorsey will wonder what is driving your question. (Once he understands that you are wondering about selling user data, Lynn he is going to wonder where you got such an idea. I think it’s time to hit the way back button and head home. You will leave all there people scratching their heads.)

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

~ 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 Production of the Last Packard Automobile in 1956

~ John W. Howell ~ 67 Comments

This week marks the anniversary of the production of the last Packard automobile in Detroit, Michigan in 1956. The Packard was, at one time, the hallmark of luxury production cars. The company used the slogan, “Ask a man who owns one,” for many years. Since this is the passing of an icon, it seems only right to go and watch the last machine to roll off the production line.  Take your top ten list so you don’t stumble inadvertently into a situation that could cause a tear in the time continuum. So pack your bag and let’s go.

Top Ten Things Not to Do at the Production of the Last Packard Automobile in 1956.

10 If you go, do not mention the name Cadillac while in the factory. If you do, at best you may not be heard over the noise. At worst, the production crew who have just been told that Cadillac is the reason for shutting the plant will hear you. (Time to try and make them believe you didn’t say Cadillac, Latinus. How about golf? “You know my caddy lacks enough skill to be helpful.” It doesn’t look like it’s working. Hit the fire drill button.)

9 If you go, do not tell Tiny the WWF champ that he missed a spot while polishing the car. If you do, at best, he is thinking of the lunch hour and will ignore you. At worst, Tiny, who just finished being admonished for careless work, will take your comment to heart. (One thing you should know, Lauren, is that Tiny does not take criticism well. In fact, his foreman has been on long term medical leave since he told Tiny to be more careful. Yeah, he’s coming this way. Tine to try out those Nike’s)

8 If you go, do not blow the words to “See You Later Alligator” by Bill Haley and the Comets. If you do, at best the other workers will be singing so loud they won’t notice. At worst, you will be discovered not knowing the words to the number one song. (Not really a big deal, Law, but you can’t make any more mistakes. Better hope you can handle “Blue Suede Shoes” by Elvis. That one is next.)

7 If you go, do not talk about having a McDonalds Big Mac for lunch. If you do, at best, no one will know what you are talking about. At worst, you will draw attention to the fact that you are not from around here. (The first McDonalds opened in Michigan in 1957, Leal. It opened in Lansing, which is eighty miles north. Don’t worry, the workers just think you are weird, not dangerous.)

6 If you go, do not ask if the car comes equipped with a stereo radio. If you do, at best, no one will understand you. At worst, you will be talking to an engineer who will catch the concept and wonder where you came from. (Stereo radios were not installed in cars until 1969. I think that engineer is in love with you, Leandros.)

5 If you go, do not ask for a color wheel to help decide the color of the last vehicle. If you do, at best you will be ignored. At worst, you will sound like you are mocking the final selection. (You see, Leeroy, it has been decided that the last Packard made would be a black Packard Patrician four door. I think those guys with wrenches want to see you. Yeah, I would ignore them too.)

4 If you go, do not scoff at the price tag of $4190 for the loaded Packard Patrician. If you do, at best everyone will think you are rich. At worst, the production crew will think you are saying the car is too cheap. ( You have to remember, Legolas that $4190 in 1956 would be worth $39, 495 today. So the car was far from cheap but not as expensive as some. The production crew would like to see you outside. No, I’m not going with you.)

3 If you go, do not forget some of the plots of the shows that were popular on TV. If you do, at best, the crew will think your memory is shot. At worst they’ll think you are nuts. (so let’s hope you remember I Love Lucy, Gunsmoke, Jack Benny, Alfred Hitchcock Presents, Res Skelton, and You Bey Your Life cause these guys just watched a few last night. No Leighton? That’s too bad.)

2 If you go, Do not tell the workers what is in store for the company. If you do, at best they won’t believe you. At worst they will take out the bad news on you. (The company merged with Studebaker, who was in bigger financial trouble. By 1958 although an attempt was made to produce Packards in South Bend Indiana the brand was totally discontinued. Aren’t you glad you didn’t tell them this, Lemuel.)

1 If you go, do not even think about sitting in the last Packard. If you do, at best no one will be able to find the keys. At worst, you will sit with a spot of grease on your pants. (The shop steward is demanding that you pay for the car Leodegan. I think your Visa card will not be accepted. He doesn’t look like someone who you want to argue with right now. Hit the way back button.)

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

~ 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.)

Ten Things Not to Do at the Launch of George Orwell’s 1984 in 1949

~ John W. Howell ~ 72 Comments

Top Ten Things Not to Do

 

Since a lot of us are writers and this week marks the 71st anniversary of the publication of George Orwell’s 1984, I think we all should go and see what it was like at the launch. If you are going to go grab a copy of the list of things not to do so, you can prevent any time warping mistakes.

Top Ten Things Not to Do at the Launch of George Orwell’s Novel “1984” in 1949.

10 At the launch, do not try to pass yourself off as a friend of George Orwell. If you do, at best, most will ignore you. At worst, someone will ask if you know his name. (Now you are in a pickle, Labhrainn. George Orwell was a nom de plume for Eric Blair. Since you didn’t know that you look like a fool.)

9 At the launch, do not cut in front of Tiny the WWF champ in the autograph line. If you do, at best, Tiny wasn’t paying attention. At worst, Tiny, who just skipped his anger management class for the fifth time, is now angry. (I guess he calls that a choker hold, Laccy. In most wrestling matches, it is outlawed since it is also known as the Grip of Death. I think I would apologize while you can still talk.)

8 At the launch, do not ask George if he is going to do a sequel. If you do, at best, he won’t hear you. At worst, since he is not feeling well, he may find your question a little rude. (He is suffering from Tuberculosis, Lache, and will not last a year. A quick check of history would have given you the information to avoid the question.

7 At the launch, do not suggest to George that the title of the book Nineteen Eighty-Four a Novel was chosen as an inversion of nineteen forty-eight the year it was finished. If you do, at best, George is distracted. At worst, George will take offense since he spent time working on the title. (You’ve done it now, Lachlann. George is looking around the room for a gun. You see, he carefully crafted the title. The book was initially titled  The Last Man in Europe. He then chose 1980 and moved it to 1982. 1984 was a late amendment to the manuscript.)

6 At the launch, do not ask George if he knows who Janice Joplin is. If you do, at best, you’ll get a stare. At worst, George will have to admit he never heard of her. (Way to go, Ladd. Just because she started out with a group called Big Brother and the Holding Company, there is no way he could know her. Now you have several people wanting to know if you are crazy.)

5 At the launch, do not suggest to the publisher that the book’s cover might be an impediment to sales. If you do, at best, the publisher will be talking to someone else. Ar worst, the publisher will ask about your book cover experience. (Of course, you have none, Ladon. All you know about covers you read on blogs. The cover may be a little plain but did turn out to be successful and sold over 30 million copies.)

4 At the launch, do not mention the copyright expires in January 2021. If you do, at best, everyone will be drinking and not listening. At worst, George’s lawyer will wonder what exactly brought this subject up. (Since it is 1949 and the copyright runs for 70 years after the death of the author, Laertes, the lawyer is wondering what you know about George’s life. I think it might be time to hit the way back button.)

3 At the launch, do not ask about the movie. If you do, at best, you’ll not be asking the publisher. At worst, the publisher will want to know what you know about the plans for a movie. (As usual, Lafayette you know there was a movie made in 1984 but none of the details. The film was released in October of 1984. At the time of the book launch, no one had even thought about a movie. I think the publisher wants to talk to you.)

2 At the launch, do not start using words from the book. If you do, most won’t know what you are talking about. At worst, George will overhear you and wonder how you came to know the jargon when you just bought the book. (This is a bit of a sticky wicket, Laius. Sure we are all familiar with words like Big Brother, doublethink, thoughtcrime, Newspeak, Room 101, telescreen, 2 + 2 = 5, prole, memory hole, and Orwellian but these folks won’t come to know them until they read the book. Oops here come George. Better have a good story made up.)

1 At the launch, do not mention George’s other books, notably Animal Farm, unless you have read them. If you do, at best, the person you said them to has not read them either. At worst, you will be talking to a rabid fan, and you will be pressed by several questions. (Okay, I think it is time to leave, Lambert. Not only are you over your head, but George is heading this way since he heard you were a big fan.)

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

~ 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.)

Top Ten (Okay, there are twelve) Coronavirus Memes – Time for a Laugh

~ John W. Howell ~ 125 Comments

This week marks the 216th anniversary of the beginning of the Lewis and Clark expedition, but guess what? I just did not have the wherewithal to create the Top Ten Things not to do on that trip. Maybe some other day. Today, we need a laugh, so I thought I would put a few of my favorite coronavirus memes to lighten the week a little. This is not to make lite of our situation, but just to have a smile or two.

Coronavirus memes

Cause for worry

Good tip

Coronavirus Memes

True

Clever Police.

Coronavirus meme

Typical

I would want to do that.

Tough choice.

Love it.

Can’t fight it forever.

Coronavirus meme

coronavirus

Work at home blues

coronavirus meme

Maybe the answer. I hope you enjoyed these.

Top Ten Things Not to Do in Moving Louis XIV’s Court to Versailles in 1682

~ John W. Howell ~ 64 Comments
Top Ten Things Not to Do
Palace of Versailles

This week marks the 338th anniversary of Louis XIV’s decision to move his court and the entire French Government to Versailles. This was a massive undertaking, and we certainly want to go and watch this happen. It nothing else; it will be a grand show of schadenfreude. If you come with us, do not forget your list of things not to do so that you can hopefully not cause a tear in the time continuum.

Top Ten Things Not to Do in Moving Louis XIV’s Court to Versailles in 1682.

10 If you go to the move, do not offer to unpack the crystal. If you do, at best, nothing will get broken. At worst, it will be your luck to pull a sizeable Venetian glass vase out of the box, and it is in two pieces. (Well, Leland. As luck would have it, you happen to have some crazy glue with you. I think you should work fast cause the last guy caught breaking a crystal piece is still back in Paris in a very dark room in the basement.)

9 If you go to the move, do not help Tiny the WWF champ unload that harpsichord. If you do, at best, Tiny will want to do it himself. At worst, Tiny, who just finished moving school, will let you have an end. (Too bad your side is the heavest, Lars. Try not to drop that silver and gold-encrusted instram—. Oops, too late, I think. Tiny is not going to get over this very soon. Let him give you an arm lock. You’ll both feel better.)

8 If you go to the move, do not tell Louis XIV that his beautiful silver chairs and throne need to be melted down to pay for the cost of the Nine Year’s War. If you do, at best, he will give you a head start. At worst, although he knows you are right, you are the messenger. (The old rule of taking it out on the messenger is once again at play here, Linus. Don’t worry. Someone will release you from the dungeon after Louis comes to his senses. Yes, you make a good point. It might take years.)

7 If you go to the move, do not think you can pick up a game of catch in the Hall of mirrors. If you do, at best you will be throwing a pillow. At worst, you are using a wooden croquet ball. (Just when you thought you had it, Lamont, the ball skips off your fingers into the seven-year bad luck zone. Don’t even try to clean up the mess. Just run.)

6 If you go to the move, do not complain about the size room you get. If you do, at best the person hearing your complaint has heard it all before. At worst, your claim is given to someone who has a smaller room than you. (That did not work well, Laurence. Yes, you have a larger room, but unfortunately, it is in the stable.)

5 If you go to the move, do not think a bottle of wine will be an adequate house warming gift. If you do, at best, it will get lost in the rush. At worst, Louis XIV will personally read your card out loud. (To add insult to injury, Leopold, your gift got the cheapskate of the day award. Don’t worry about being a laughing stock, right now, Louis is commissioning an artist to do a statue of you and your bottle of wine.)

4 If you go to the move, do not give anyone decorating advice. If you do, at best, the person you are talking to is in charge of the landscaping. At worst, you give your opinions to Charles Le Brun, the head of interior design. (That sound is Le Brun laughing at your suggestion for a more minimalist treatment of the interior design. If you are lucky, Lon Le Brun won’t have you escorted off the property. On second thought, those husky guards seem to be intent on just that.)

3. If you go to the move, do not volunteer to organize the first state dinner. If you do, at best, you’ll be turned down. At worst you will be given the job. (First off, Leander, there are over six thousand government, court, and courtier personnel that would be expecting an invitation. Second of all, if you slight one who is important, your future will look bleak indeed. Good luck with this. Have a nice day.)

2 If you go to the move, do not forget to check the wagon for anything left. If you do, at best, all the items have been unloaded. At worst, you’ll leave the symbol of le Roi Soleil (Louis XIV the Sun God) in the back of the wagon. (Nice going, Layton. That symbol is pure gold, and it would take you a lifetime to pay it back if lost. Better start hunting now before the king notices it missing. Uh oh. By the look on the face of his royalness, it is already too late.)

1 If you go to the move, do not offer to clean the bedrooms. If you do, at best someone will tell you there is a staff for that. At worst, you’ll get that assignment. (Since there are 700 bedrooms in the palace, Lyndon, you might consider the fact that you now have a guaranteed job for life. Here tale this Swiffer. You might need it.)