Thursday, November 28, 2013

Mystery fans: Dial B for Butt Dial

Cell phone mania hasn't slowed down one single bit since the devices with ever advancing technology came on the scene many years ago.

 

Cell phone calls have become so inexpensive and the many applications they contain so valuable that we've reached the point where virtually everyone keeps their cell phone with them wherever they go.

 

It's not uncommon to see a girl wearing tight denim pants with her Verizon wireless device jammed into her rear hip pocket so tightly wedged in there that it looks like it's about buckle under the pressure.

 

I wonder if she can even get it out of her pocket to answer a call.

 

Which leads us to a phenomenon that developed just a few years ago called the butt dial.

 

This was originally referred to it as a pocket dial.

 

These cell phones are so touch sensitive and loaded up with instant dialing technology that sitting down or manipulating your body can cause the telephone to place an outgoing call without your knowing it.

 

The butt dial has led to some rather interesting events over the years.

 

Recently a life was saved because of a butt dial in Arkansas.

 

Larry Barnett unknowingly pocket dialed the intended victim of his murder plot while giving instructions to a hit man.

 

The intended victim heard the entire conversation and went straight to the police. Investigators uncovered a plot to blow up the poor man's  home.

 

Another butt dial is going to put Jason Bohn behind bars  for the rest of his life.

 

Danielle Thomas accidentally butt dialed a voice answering machine as Bohn was strangling her.

 

The chilling recording has the poor woman begging for her life throughout a 15 minute ordeal preserved as evidence in the prosecutor's case.

 

Lisa Meritz of the Huffington Post recently wrote about an intimate moment that she had with her husband.

 

The audio of that moment was accidentally overheard by one of her husband's business clients because of her hubby's inadvertent pocket dial.

 

My story is the way a butt dial inadvertently turned me into a hero.

 

I was talking to a very dear friend  about an associate who had been giving my friend a difficult time. As the conversation progressed, my friend butt dialed the very associate that was the subject of our discussion.

 

I was heard defending this associate ardently.

 

I listed several examples of the hard work and sincere effort of the gentleman who was the hot topic as I was speaking to my friend.

 

My friend and the associate were able to patch things up.

 

In the meantime, because of my kind words overheard, I was placed in very high regard.

 

My point is this.

 

The butt dial is here to stay. So watch what you say and where you say it.

 

And one more thing.

 

Be careful how you wiggle your tush.

 

You just might be dialing the White House and Michelle Obama doesn't need to hear how your hemorrhoids are doing.

Peace.

 

 

Thursday, November 21, 2013

Long Island Medium causes extra large fear

It's high time  I got this off my chest.

 

On Sunday nights, The Learning Channel broadcasts a television program called the "Long Island Medium". My wife loves this show.

 

It features a middle-aged woman by the name of Theresa Caputo who is able to understand communications from the dead, which she then is able to pass on to the loved ones surviving the tragic loss.

 

I have to tell you that the program is pretty uplifting because Caputo is able to convey very important messages to those that are left behind.

 

The father who lost a son is  teary-eyed when Caputo explains to him that the son wants the father to know that the son's death was no fault of the father.

 

In other instances, a relative from the beyond, through the Long Island medium, explains why the survivor should not feel guilty for his absence at the very moment of death.

 

Also common from those that  cast in their chips is a directive to live one's life without fear and without guilt. The dearly departed is happy and she wants her family and her widowed husband to be happy also.

 

These readings in almost every instance are therapeutic for the living human who is the subject of these readings.

 

You can see the sense of relief and joy experienced by those who have been harboring the idea that they did something wrong or insensitive at the time a relative's death.

 

A great burden is lifted. The Long Island Medium preaches the gospel of forgiveness and compassion on behalf of those living beyond the grave.

 

In some ways, these messages really do make great sense because after all, who is more likely to be issuing forth with biblical advice than those that are  playing pinochle with Jesus.

 

Despite all of the positive feeling emanating from the compassionate work of the Long Island medium, I am troubled by a few aspects of this program.

 

And, by the way, it's not that I'm skeptical of her unique powers.

 

I believe that we all have a soul that lives on for eternity, so it doesn't seem  so far-fetched  to think that someone here on earth can hear messages conveyed to us by those we loved so much.

 

Think of it this way: we just don't have the equipment to receive the messages being transmitted.

 

But Theresa Caputo has a highly sophisticated radar dish so that she can hear things the rest of us are not equipped to receive.

 

I think her abilities are likely genuine.

 

What I'm troubled by is the source of her powers. I hope that her gifts come from God.

 

Problem is that it may be just as likely that her fantastic abilities come from a darker source.

 

Satanic rituals and other things occult frequently involve  receiving communications from spirits that once occupied bodies.

 

The Long Island Medium seems to be sincere in her desire to do good with the unique capabilities  apparently thrust upon her.

 

The problem that I have is that we just don't know who gave her these fantastic skills.

 

If it  comes from the good Lord, no one can criticize.

 

But maybe, just maybe, it all comes from the very dark nether world.

 

To me, there's no way to know for sure, and I'd rather just not take the chance.

 

So, Miss Caputo, you go ahead and read people so that you can hear the latest chatter from the other side.

 

Just in case source of your power is malevolent, I choose to stay clear of you and your abilities.

 

Make others happy, Long Island Medium.

 

But beware of the sinister that you may be unknowingly introducing or even unleashing.

Bottom line is that I am frightened by this TV show and what it might be embracing.

Caputo  I like but she  may be the dupe of the devil.

So let's  stear clear of this entertaining reader of souls.

And focus on our real problems in the real world.

We can get help from  a spiritual source if we want to.

 

It's called God.

 

Peace.

Thursday, November 14, 2013

Surprise the world with a spark of hope

Here's a story of human compassion that will warm your heart.

 

As an attorney, I have to occasionally visit a client in a correctional facility.

 

This past Saturday, I went to a State penitentiary.

 

It's dirty and old. Just what you'd expect. The furniture for visitors is molded plastic circa 1974.

 

Anyway, in the outer lobby of the building, there  sits a machine that accepts cash.

 

It's for the commissary account for the inmates.

 

You put cash into the machine and that cash goes into the commissary account for use by the prisoners.

 

This way, the jailbird can purchase extra food, snacks, socks, toiletries, or whatever the prison is willing to sell  them to make life on the inside a little more bearable.

 

Unfortunately, this machine requires a special identification card containing prisoner and visitor information. The device requires certain data to be entered before money is uploaded to the prisoners' accounts.

 

That's where the story begins.

 

As I waited in the lobby area, I noticed an elderly black man.

 

He was there to see his son.

 

But he wanted to put money on his son's commissary account and was having trouble navigating the device.

 

I was unfamiliar with this contraption and was unable to lend assistance.

 

That's when it happened.

 

A young girl, about 25, caucasian, wearing a navy wool coat, blue jeans, and a colorful knit beret, stepped forward.

 

She was quite beautiful in a haunting sort of way.

 

She was in the building to see her boyfriend who was doing time for drugs.

 

She had every reason to keep to herself, waiting  for the chance to see her beloved.

 

She had every reason to wallow in the cynicism  that was stifling in that room.

 

Instead, she went up to the old man to help.

 

She very kindly and gently assisted the senior citizen in dealing with the commissary vending machine.

 

He was confused but she was  patient and kind in her demeanor.

 

She helped him lovingly.

 

Everyone who observed the scene was uplifted.

 

There, in this dungeon where joy was never found, this young girl made us all smile with a sense of hope.

 

We've all heard that that it is better to light a candle than to curse the darkness.

 

She lit a candle.

 

An old black man approaching senility confronts the sadness of his son's imprisonment, only to be embraced by an impromptu act of compassion.

 

I'll never forget it.

 

I was changed.

 

Yes, it's a crummy world we live in.

 

Filled with hate, war, poverty, and racism.

 

But within each of us there lurks the opportunity to reflect the image and likeness of God, in which, after all, we were all created.

 

Help the lonely, the frightened, and the confused when you encounter them.

 

Be a light in the darkness that surrounds you.

 

Peace.

 

 

Thursday, November 7, 2013

Stubble stumbles in an effort to look cool

What's with the stubble?

 

It popped up several years ago, during the heyday of a show called Miami Vice.

 

Hunk actor Don Johnson portrayed a modern cool police detective in south Florida and he was never clean-shaven.

 

He went with the stubble look.

 

The trend continued to grow.

 

Brad Pitt strolled the red carpet at the Academy Awards with a whisker growth that looked like he'd just rolled out of bed after sleeping for three days. 

 

Look at a fashion magazine.

 

Male models are never clean-shaven.

 

Stubble means sexy.

 

Even those with gray hair have joined this new grungy style.

 

Remember Jason Giambi in his geriatric pinch hitting role for the Indians this last season?

I haven't seen so much salt and pepper on one man's face since Lucy threw the spice rack at Desi Arnez.

 

And how about Wolf Blitzer of CNN?

 

He's  the Senior News Correspondent who works hard to achieve that white whisker appearance.

 

 

What a change from the 1950s, 60s, and 70s.

 

Back then you had the choice between clean-shaven or a full beard.

 

Going in between, that is, the stubble look, was considered shabby.

 

Remember the old hobo played by Red Skelton?

 

He wore raggedy clothes, uncombed hair, and he needed a shave.

 

Stubbly.

 

But today the stubble has come into full bloom.

 

No wonder Gillette has increased the cost of razor blades.

 

We don't use them as often as we used to.

 

Here's something amazing.

 

Norelco now sells an electric razor designed not to give you a close shave.

 

It has a stubble setting that allows the user to regulate the stubble length.

 

You have the choice of three different settings:

One. I forgot to shave this morning.

Two. A wife-beater shirt would go nicely with this look.

Three.  I really don't give a crap what I look like but don't I appear a little dangerous.

 

 

Let me ask you ladies.

 

Is this scruffy, I haven't had a shave in 2 to 3 days look really such a turn-on?

 

Why did you change?

 

I remember when commercials used to feature a beautiful blonde stroking the  smooth cheek of a freshly shaved athlete as if to say that a close shave was the quickest route to landing a hot chick.

 

There's something about an Aqua Velva man!

 

For me, I like that feeling of a close shave.

 

I admit that it's a pain in the keister to shave every morning.

 

But it makes me feel clean and refreshed, ready to attack the day.

 

Stubble?

 

To me it means tired and unwashed.

 

So go ahead, stubble away.

 

I'm going clean-cut and freshly scraped of facial follicles.

 

Aqua Velva is in my bathroom cabinet.

 

Call me old-fashioned.

 

But I'm not rough hewn.

 

Not a bad boy.

 

A nice shave: soft as a baby's bottom.

 

Easy girls.

 

I'm taken.