Every week, I get a fair amount of questions about 368 via email.  So THIS week, I figured I would post a few of them here, and answer in this venue, just in case others might be wondering some of the same things.  (For instance…..a couple of these topics appeared from more than one reader.  Hence, my choices of letters.)  So, without further ado, here goes the “First Edition” of…… “Letters to the Editor”

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Dear Polly,

You are always taking photos of little fake characters.  This annoys me.  Why don’t you shoot any real people?

I’ll wait for an answer,
Annoyed in Phoenix

Dear Annoyed,

I’ve found that real people can be a pain in the butt, not only when you photograph them, but also when they write letters.  The little fake ones are much quieter and nicer in general.  And… they wear better hats.

Your waiting is over,
Polly

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Dear Polly,

Why did you say you were calling it quits and then the next day you start right back up again?  Either quit or give us some kind of an explanation or better yet an apology.

Thanks in advance.
Righteous Ray

Dear Righty-Ray,

I’ve been wearing my Sock Monkey hat too tight.  It slows the oxygen flow in between my ears.  My ears need to breathe for my brain to operate at maximum capacity.  The ear-breathing always reaches its slowest rate right around April 1st every year.  Seems a lot of people suffer from the same affliction… but without the hats.

You are welcome in retrospect,
Polly

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Dear Polly,

I don’t understand what Alien Sippers are.  What kind of a booth was this really?

Curious in Atlanta

Dear Curio,

Believe it or not, I had quite a few letters come in with this very same question.  They were fruit drinks in plastic alien-head-shaped-cups, with straws coming out the backs of their heads.  I think they were almost like slushies.  Obviously, these are a huge attraction at the Flower Festival, as the line really was extremely long.  Mostly “Hulk Hogan” types were waiting to get the Alien Sippers.   Fruity-Tootie was the most popular flavor, followed by Berry Berry Banana.  The Aliens did not wear hats.

Refreshed,
Polly

Well, that’s it for my “Follow-Ups” this week.  I think this may be good from time to time.   I care what you think……… and I think when my ears are breathing good.

Today, we ventured out to the Summerville Flower Festival.  Oh, my “Camera Hopes” were sky high hopes….. apple-pie hopes…..  A Flower Festival! It is touted as  one of the Top 20 events in the Southeast by the Southeast Tourism Society.  I heard on the news this morning while knocking back my eggs, ham, and grits….”Over 250,000 people expected at the Flower Fest this weekend.”  Holy-Kamoley.  That’s a cool quarter of a million heads bopping up and down to stop and smell the roses.  But I can do it!  I said.  I am up for the task.

Off we went.  This is the first thing I noticed when we finally got through the traffic, and parked 7 miles away…. to get to the main festival area:

(There were a couple of people here and there….)

What I did NOT see….. Flowers.  Nope, not a one.  No displays, no booths, no peddlers were holding a single stem or bouquet of anything.  Not a daisy or a petunia, a rose, or a begonia.  No leafs. No petals. Not a root to be had.  Now…. if you are interested in Corn Dogs, Funnel Cakes, Italian Sausage, or Fried Oreos…. this is the Flower Festival FOR YOU!  Cotton Candy galore!  Powdered Sugar anything.  This too, is the mecca of the the deep fryer. (I do believe that the focus of the Flower Fest.. …. over the years… had become misconstrued.)

Eating was truly an adventure……  And then, joy of all joys….   I spotted THIS!

I WAS enthralled.  I have always wanted a pair of Alien Slippers.  I figured they’d be Slippers made out of Aliens (how cool is that!)… kinda’ like Fur Coats, or, Alligator-Skin Boots, or Raccoon Caps.  Imagine my excitement and delight.  I got in line.  I didn’t care to look at the Fruit Slippers….. nope…. I figured those would get messy, especially in warmer weather…. the fruit flies and all.  But Alien Slippers….I bet they’d be comfortable as all get out.   So I waited, and waited, with the others in need of a good pair of house shoes.

When I got to the front of the line, I was sorely disappointed.   It was just about a half a dozen of Aliens, sitting there at a bar, sipping coffee and tea…….. and they were spilling it all the heck over the place…. with all the flying saucers and what have you.

So, no flowers today.  And no Alien Slippers.  But the Corn Dogs rocked.  They were out of this world.

I’ve just been feeling “stale” lately writing here, and trying to keep this up every day….

Nothing has been seeming that funny or creative to me…

…. so the bottom line is….I guess I am going to call it quits.

Thank for reading.  I may post from time to time.  My best to you all.  PK.

I’m Leafing Now…  Thanks.  😐

Oh my gracious grits Madge…. I can’t believe you did it again!

Did what Helen?

Madge, I specifically asked you NOT to wear the green jacket!

I thought you asked me “NOT to tear the bean…. hack it.”

What in the world could that possibly mean Madge….. WHAT…. don’t tear the bean……..

Helen, I wouldn’t know.  You’re always coming up with those funny phrases.

They are NOT funny phrases.  You just can’t hear worth a darn Madge.  I also said “Don’t wear your black pants.”

Oh heavens.… I know for sure you said…. “Don’t scare the back trance.”

And WHAT on earth could THAT mean, Madge… what….what trance Madge…… and, and…. the purse, the purse Madge.  What about the purse?

What hearse Helen?

Arrrrrrrrgggggghhhhhhh…… just be quiet you old fool.

Helen….

WHAT is it Madge, WHAT?

Helen, you look just lovely today…..

Well, where do I start tonight? I have been bombarded with trivial pursuits and endeavors this evening. But who among us WASN’T…. this being the Anniversary of Jeopardy and all. Yes, the classic game show first appeared on March 30th, 1964. The premier host was none other than Art Fleming.  But, since I love Jeopardy so, I thought it might be fun to dig up some trivial information for this particular installment of bloginess.

A little pitchforking and I found out that Fleming was an avid bowler….. he loved the sport. Heck, he bowled at least four days a week. So… Bowling Trivia it is.

The most interesting thing I uncovered, was an article on the Federation of International Bowlers. I did NOT know the Federation of International Bowlers even existed…. and I truly love this game! (Mostly because the shoes are so cool, and I can’t get enough of the soft pretzels and the microwaved pizza you can buy at any bowling concession stand.) But back to the Federation. It was started on July 9, 1815… just five months after the end of the War of 1812.

Sir Edmund Harrington of England, and Ernie Kulontzky of New Jersey, USA, spearheaded the campaign for the organization as a way of uniting the people of Great Britain and the United States. The slogan was “Strike Out for Peace.” Other foreign nations joined in the movement to display solidarity and encouragement.  President James Madison and wife Dolly, showed great support for the faction, and hosted the Opening Tournament of the Federation of International Bowlers in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania (1816).   Dolly baked a bunch of little cakes and cookies, and sweet treats, and such. (Ironically, you can still purchase Dolly Madison baked goods at bowling alleys across the U.S.  But, only Dolly Madison products.   Others, including Hostess and Little Debbie are not permitted.  And…. sneaking them in is still a federal offense to this day. (Article XXIV of the Coalition’s By-Laws).

The first team consisted of all military personnel in hopes of demonstrating the united front of good will and cooperation among the nations. The Bowlers were, Arnold Wilson, U.S. Navy; Sir Theodore Davies, Royal Guard, UK; Jacques Rousseau, French Army; and Willhem Von Machtenstein, Federal Militia, Germany. They rocked. ( Arnold had a pet turkey named Feather Duster. Strangely enough, whenever Arnie threw a strike the turkey would hop and down. When he got three in a row, the bird became highly excited and gobbled like crazy. Hence, 3 strikes in a row became known as a Turkey.)

Oh, I could go on and on, but I am already yammering too dang much. I just loved finding out about the F.I.B. But I will spare the rest of the details, let you off the hook, and pin this up for the evening.  Until the next time…. let the good times roll.

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Factoids…..
The game can be dated back to the ancient Egyptians. An archeologist, Sir Flinders Petrie found the pins together with bowling balls in a grave of an Egyptian child carbon dated to the year 5200 BC. The art of Bowling is accredited to him.

Yes, 5200 BC marked the earliest evidence of the existence of the sport and its likely origin. There is another bowling version which was coined by William Pehle, a German historian who claimed the sport originated from Germany in the year 300 AD. This game has flourished in many forms especially in Europe and particularly in England where it was popularized in the reign of King Edward III. Its popularity was so stretched that the King outlawed it so as not to distract troops who were practicing sword fighting skills.

Tonight we ate at one of our favorite restaurants.  It is called Blossom, and they can serve up some pretty tasty vittles I’ll tell you.  They bake their own breads, and make their own dressings, desserts, even the ice-cream.  Two wood-fired stoves spit out some pretty good pizzas as well.  But the FISH, oh the fish!

The “Special” this evening was Monk Fish.  I picked the Salmon instead.  Embarrassingly enough….I made big yummy noises throughout the meal, as I slogged back the grits and fish.   I rubbed my belly in little circles.  People stared.

Anyway….I just couldn’t bring myself around to the Monk Fish.  Nope.  You see, I had to pass.   It was the whole visual of the thing.  I could envision some sweet little fish it its cute little brown burlap hoodie-robe, sinched at the waist with a bell-tower-rope tied in a big bulky knot.  Yep.  I could see the little fish now, looking all Mr. Limpet-like, sitting in its little fish chapel, holding a strand of beads in its little fin,  saying its little fish prayers…..   No way could I order the Monk Fish.  NO WAY.

They call Charleston The Holy City.  So I figured the Monk Fish was just another part of the gig.  As it turns out, that’s not really so.

When I got home, I looked up that there Monk Fish on the internet.  Nothing quaint or monk-like about it at all.  Quite the opposite.  It is ugly as sin.  They live about 9 years, get to be about 3 feet long, look like some prehistoric-scary-horrible-creature, and feed on pretty much everything including soda cans, plastic, and other trash.  New visual in my head.  I’m still not ordering the Monk Fish.
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….the MF……..

Well, I can hardly let another day pass without mentioning the NCAA Basketball Tournament.  If you are not a sports fan, PLEASE stick with me here.  I promise not to mention a rebound, jump shot, or even the name of a single player.  I will however, speak to the subject of mascots.

I like to pair up these “representative icons” of the different teams.  This year in the Men’s Final Four, we have the Bulldogs vs. the Rams.  On the other side of the bracket is the Wildcats vs. the Huskies.  You can only imagine the fun I might have with this.  If you put any or all of these “real life” animals on the basketball court, it is clearly impossible to speculate on the outcome.   I bet not a one of them could get the basketball through the 10 ft. high hoop, even once….. or even dribble without traveling three steps, for that matter.    However, if they are out fighting in the wild or something, it might be easier to pick the winners.  You see, it is all in the context of the battle.

For instance, tonight in Women’s Roundball, it was the Fighting Irish vs. the Volunteers…… again, hard to bet on hoops between those two.  But let say the match-up was a Beer Drinking Contest.  Easy to pick THAT champion… the Fighting Irish.  Now, if it were a pop-quiz on the top 10 survival tactics in the Red Cross How-To Handbook….. easy-peasy-lemon-squeazy….the Volunteers come out on top.

One more observation tonight:  This is the year the bracket died in the men’s tournament.  Not a single number one seed made it to the Final Four.  Those fallen teams included the Buckeyes, the Jayhawks, the Blue Devils, and the Panthers.  The mascots are pretty worthless in basketball.  If I had a team, I’d call them the “Really Tall Guys” or the “Stealthy Giants” or the “Dead-Eye Dicks” or the “Ball Magicians”  You follow my meaning here.

And I retract an earlier statement.  Bulldogs DO make GREAT dribblers.  In fact, never get in a slobbering contest with a Bulldog.  I tried it once.  It just wasn’t pretty….. not pretty at all.  (I was even wearing my Sock Monkey Hat at the time….)

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ADDED NOTE: This sent to me from my good pal Jeff….. and added to the DUBIOUS….. the Buckeye BUYS IT….

http://www.kronytown.com/368/?page_id=26

Sometimes, I am totally shocked and amazed that certain things work as well as they do.

There are sophisticated devices all around us…. which are quite remarkable in their own right.  Look around the room.  I think the TV remote is a pretty snappy gadget.  In fact, when it goes missing, most of us get an immediate case of the jim-jams.  Heaven forbid, we would have to figure out how to change the channel on that “picture-box-contraption” without the wizard-wand of the remote control.

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m a total geek.  I say this with respect and in all seriousness.  I’m in awe of the people who have the brain power to create such contraptions!

We are dependent on many such devices.  When they are working as planned, they go largely unappreciated.  However, when a battery dies, or the darn thing goes all whopper-jawed… well WHAT an imposition that IS.  How dare it run out of juice… just when Dancing with the Stars is about to start.

Nevertheless…..it is in my humble opinion, that we should be more careful with technology.  You know…..like where, when and how we build things such as nuclear power plants.  This doesn’t seem to be working out too well in Japan.  And now we have gaboodles of radioactive particles seeping into the Pacific Ocean.  It just so happens that you and I are directly connected to the Pacific Ocean.  And so it goes.

Just take a look at that wiring in the photo, for example.  A bit bemusing, isn’t it.  I am often astonished that things don’t go terribly wrong more often.  It is the Chicken Little in me.  There is A LOT of Chicken Little in me….

Which leads me into my next thought… today while walking the dogs at the Battery, something hit me on the head.  Honestly, I have no idea what it was.  Nothing dropped on the ground around me…. it wasn’t pigeon poop (I checked)  …. I didn’t see anything coming… just BONK.  A hit on the top-right side of my head.  I guess it could have been a careless bird… but I think I would have heard it.  A mystery.

Back to the Chicken Little in me… maybe the sky IS falling.  I mean, the ocean is glowing…..

Liz Taylor died a few days ago.  She lived a pretty full life.  She did some good work for AIDs awareness, and probably did some other good things too.  My condolences to her family and fans.

I was never really a big fan of Ms. Taylor’s.  As an actress, I thought she was okay.  She was pretty in her youth too.  Since she died, many are touting her as Hollywood’s greatest star ever.  I just don’t see it that way.

Got married eight times.  That’s a lot.

And, she left over a billion dollars behind.  Again, that’s a lot.

Finally, her last request, to be 15 minutes late to her own funeral.  I’ve never been real crazy about people who are always late.  It is sort of inconsiderate to the rest of us who make the effort to show up on time.

On the flip side, we have a public garden down the street from us.  People of all different walks of life show up really early on Wednesday mornings there.  They volunteer their time to plant beautiful flowers for the rest of us to enjoy.   They do it just for the sake of beauty and creation.  Once again, that’s a lot.

It is like a Giant, Elephant Walk, on a Hot Tin Roof… a Place in the Sun.  Rhapsody.  National Velvet.

A package was delivered to our house today, by mistake.  It was for our nice neighbors, Liz and Tom, who are just right down the street.  So, I snatched it up and scurried on over to their house.  When I rang, Liz answered the door.

I handed her the box and explained the mis-delivery…. a parcel from the Cialis Company.  I had no idea what it was… Sea Monkeys for all I knew…. but I wanted to get it right to them.  Liz thanked me as she took the box, and then began to blush.  I could feel the awkwardness setting in, as her face fell into deeper and deeper shades of crimson.

Then, she sheepishly leaned in, and whispered, “You see… my husband has Reptile Dysfunction.”  Well what the heck!  Isn’t THAT something, I thought.  I didn’t know they had ANY pets, let alone reptiles.  What could it be….I wondered… an iguana, or lizard, or some sort of snake?  And what was wrong with it?

So now I am feeling a bit out of sorts.  So I said.  “Oh my.  That’s just terrible.  Awful!  How sick is it?”  Well holy smokes….. Liz’s eyes got to be the size of ping pong balls.  (It was a simple question I thought… but now it appears that I’ve somehow offended her.)  Then she sort of bobbed her head back and forth and said, “It’s just that Tom’s Elections are lasting more than four hours.”

OK.  At this point, I am totally confused.  I knew Tom was a Judge, but I didn’t know he was up for any elections.  So I countered, “Liz.  That’s nothing.  Sometimes these things get locked up for weeks on end where I’m from.”  She turned on her heels and slammed the door.  I didn’t really even get a thank you……..

So what do you all think…….  I’m wondering if it could be one of those little Pipe Snakes, or maybe some kind of a Worm Lizard…..   Are alligators reptiles?  Maybe that’s it….