Foolish Times June 2017 issue by Foolishtimes

June 2017

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June 2017

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June 2017

What the Bleep is Foolish Times? Foolish Times is a free monthly tabloid publishing the best humor we can find (some months we search harder than others). The opinions or ideas expressed by contributors are not necessarily those of Foolish Times, its owner, advertisers, or associates, or their extended families, or their friends or neighbors, or their associated pen pals, up to and including cockatiels. All articles, graphics, photographs, and what-not (especially the what-not) are copyrighted by the so-called “writers" and "artists" who contribute them. Foolish Times uses invented names in all its stories, except in cases where public figures are being satirized. Any other use of real names is accidental and coincidental.

Advertisers For rate information, email sales@foolishtimes.net or call 831.648.1038 For rat information, call your exterminator

List of Fools Chucklehead.......................Stevie P. Editorial Fool..........................Susie Q. Sales Fools.............................Karen S. Hutch Art Fool.......................Mama Morgan Toddler Fool......................Jonah Dee

Contributors

Bini, Lily Brun, Max Cannon, Stefan Chapman, Roger Freed, Ted Gargiulo, Dennis Hengeveld, Zachary Michael Jack, Daria James, Robyn Justo, Rex Keyes, Stacy Lininger, Chris Myers, Sally Perkins, David Schmidt, Chuck Shepherd, Rosie Sorenson, Laura Sottile, Monty Truitt

The Chucklehead Speaks If you read the March issue, this story is a continuation of a bike ride I swore I would never do again. If you need the back story, the issue is in the archives on our website. Leaving Monterey County early Friday to reach San Diego was a drive fast kind of trip only to be stalled to white knuckle stop-and-go traffic through LA and Orange County. Getting up at 4am Saturday to catch a shuttle to cross the border came way too early. We decided to ride our bikes to the meeting point four miles away. The first leg was straight up hill; not a good way to start the day. My front wheel had a freak accident in the luggage compartment under the bus. I thought my ride was over before I could even begin. Add to that, the buses were late getting us to the starting line because of the posturing at the Mexican side of the border. Rosario to Ensenada here I come…again. The route followed the coast for the first 20 miles before turning inland. The weather was cold with whipping winds off the ocean. Heading inland and the first downhill, it started to rain. What goes down must go up and up and up. I limped to the top of El Tigre on barking knees. My brain kept trying to convince my body to keep going one more climb before descending for good while my left knee reminded me that I should have fixed that slightly torn medial meniscus years ago.

My ride ended around the 30 mile mark when I was picked up by the “Truck of Shame.” I now know how it feels to finish second. This time the mountain won. At our “private fiesta,” they quickly ran out of unlimited beer and fish tacos and the $3 hot showers were cold. Most riders huddled on the buses to stay warm while feasting on Doritos and bad beer purchased from an OXXO; Mexico’s version of 7-11 On our trip back, the driver went the wrong way, pinning us in a dead end that took 35 minutes to turn around before proceeding on the correct route. At the border crossing, we were told to disembark and walk through the turnstiles while they searched the bus. We arrived back in San Diego around 10pm. There was no way we were riding back to the hotel and luckily one of the guys on the trip had a pick-up with room for our bikes. If not for his kindness, I would have been sleeping under a bush! A bad brunch Sunday morning was not a great start before the long drive home. Just as the sun was setting, the sweet sound of KPIG came in loud and clear letting me know I was back in Monterey County. I woke up Monday morning thinking all this was fun and can’t wait until next year to do it again….not!

Stevie P. / publisher@foolishtimes.net

Foolish Times | P.O. Box 4046 Monterey, CA 93942 | 831.648.1038

June 2017

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SAM

Where they hip? I doubt it. I told them, “I make antique furniture.”

the Morning Man

By Sam Salerno You may think I’m foolish to join this publication, but to the contrary. I’ve been one of their supporters since they began to publish more than 13 years ago. Once a month, I constantly need a good chuckle because life out there in the “real” world is too serious. Thanks Stevie P. and Suzie Q. for including my column with the rest of your writers. Let’s keep laughing…

was bleeding profusely and the perpetrator ran over to see what happened and offered to help the victim. My friend didn’t seem fazed by the knock to the head and asked, “Was it a Titleist or a Callaway?” Now that’s a golfer!

Dumb and Dumber In a conversation at a local Carmel restaurant, the topic of discussion was their different professions. One was a lawyer and the other a salesman. Naturally, after I quizzed them both about their job, they returned the compliment and asked what I did for a living.

This is Not Soccer A friend of mine playing golf at a local course was knocked on the head from an errant ball shanked from a parallel hole. He

I go to the Dollar Store in Seaside Saturday as I usually do after my radio show, The Shag Bag Show with co-host Dave Marzetti. I completed my shopping and was about to check out when I was asked by an attendant displaying a container for some charitable organization if I would donate to their cause to which I answered, “Why do you think I’m at the Dollar Store?’ Friday, a week later, I was at the same store and I couldn’t find toilet paper. The employees were clueless so they called the manager. He commented that they would have toilet paper on Monday. I told him I couldn’t wait that long.

One for the Computer Nerds What did one spider say to the other? Come on over and check out my website. I must admit this is an original but it doesn’t increase my bank account.

Tony Baker

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Love to Play in Words I thought of this after I drove by what was once Brinton’s Hardware in the Carmel Rancho Shopping Center. It’s now called Prim’s. Perhaps they’ll have a companion store close by called Proper. Did you know that the first governor of Texas was named Hog? I presume that is the correct spelling. He named his first daughter Ima. Some say his second daughter was named Youra. Many billboards in Texas read, “Don’t mess with Texas.” As a visitor, you may interpret it as, “Don’t liter in Texas.’

The Humor of Mark Twain One of my favorite writers of all times happens to be Mark Twain (Samuel Clements). His name comes from the way they measured the depth of the water during the time he worked on Mississippi river boats. The waters depth was measured in Twains, thus his pen name. Speaking of Train, his humor was far reaching. He said, “Adam and Eve had many advantages. A principal one was they escaped teething. Another, “God made idiots. This was for practice.” Then He made school boards….

Don’t Believe this Get Rich Scheme After years living in Las Vegas during its growth and kmowing how the town operated, when I came to the peninsula club groups contacted me to speak about “Sin City.” The Kiwanis Club of Carmel was one of the first and were excited to hear all about Las Vegas. What did I know? I was a radio personality doing a morning show for 15 years. My opening remark was a saying we had in Vegas, “if you want to make a small fortune in Vegas, come with a large fortune.”

From the Mouth of Babes When I was raising my son, Sam Jr, we attended church on a regular basis. Sam loved to read the Bible and was very astute. Sitting by the window at Stat’s Restaurant in PG, he was gazing out the window and I asked him if he wanted to go skyward to be with the Lord. He answered, “No , I don’t want to get hit by an airplane. See you next month.

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June 2017

it BEER Post No Bills Hundreds of specialty & seasonal beers ciders & craft sodas, BYOF Drink in or take-out 600 Ortiz Ave, Sand City 831.324.4667 www.postnobills.net

LATE NIGHT Denny’s Monterey County is not known for late night food, unless you have leftovers in your fridge Marina, Monterey, Salinas and Seaside locations

CAFÉ Bay Café & Cantina Best breakfast & lunch. Pet friendly garden patio. Espresso bar, 26 varieties of loose tea. Locals & military discounts 55 Camino Aguajito, Monterey 831.717.4054 www.baycafeandcantina.com

FAST FOOD If food were fast, we would all be running after it.

ORGANIC Bay of Pines Ocean-themed decór, organic soups, salads, beef, chicken, pasta & burgers. Beer & wine. Experience the organic difference. 150 Del Monte Ave, Monterey 831.920.3560 www.bayofpinesrestaurant.com

DONUTS Red’s Voted best donuts since before time! An iconic meeting place for locals Home of the $5 Mon-Tues doz donuts 433 Alvarado St, Monterey 1646 Fremont Ave, Seaside 831.372.9761 831.394.3444

CHINESE Full Moon Great new menu items to tantalize your palate for a memorable dining experience. 429 Alvarado St Monterey 831.3331288 www.fullmoonmonterey.com

SEAFOOD I See Food, I Eat it! If you don’t find something that was swimming in the sea on a menu in Monterey County, you’re probably still in Kansas, Dorothy

BREAKFAST First Awakenings ...Egg-cetera. A local’s & visitor’s first choice to start the day. Don’t forget to come back for lunch! 171 Main St, Old Town Salinas 831.784.1125 125 Oceanview Blvd, Pacific Grove 831.372.1125 www.firstawakenings.net

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Crown & Anchor Classic British owned & operated pub. Heated patio. Full menu to midnight. 150 W. Franklin St, Monterey 831.649.6496 www.crownandanchor.net

MEXICAN Jose’s A local's favorite! Great food, great service Crab Enchiladas are fabulous 1612 Contra Costa, Seaside 831.899.0345 Sarita’s Call it what it is...the original place, the namesake, where it all started. You will call it the best! Eat in, take-out, catering 21 Soledad St Monterey 831.350.0555 www.saritastogo.com

WINE Monterey County is home to award-winning wine You can’t go wrong with anything from our region Enjoy a bottle while reading the rest of the paper Cheers!

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THAI Yangtse’s Taste of Thai Inventive selection of Asian inspired dishes prepared by award-winning chef. Newly remodeled. 328 Main St, Oldtown Salinas 831.754.2223

INDIAN Namaste India Bistro House mixed spices accent freshly prepared Indian food for a modern interpretation of classic dishes. Dine in, take-out and delivery. Lunch buffet daily. 538 Lighthouse Ave, Monterey 831.641.0130 www.namasteindiabistro.com

SALAD BAR Crazy Horse The premier place for a scrumptious healthy meal. Hot and cold bar features over 75 fresh items. Full menu/ bar available. 1425 Munras Ave, Monterey 831.649.4771 www.crazyhorserestaurant.com

June 2017

I Feel Your Pain

By Rosie Sorenson

I used to have respect for fruit flies, but now I’m not so sure. Males, it seems, fall into drinking a lot when frustrated. I do not respect men who get sloppy drunk. You’re probably wondering, how does she know this? Has she been hanging around Fruit Fly Saloons? Spending time on Fruit Fly FaceBook? Does she subscribe to the Fruit Fly Frolic podcast? Nope. Got the intel the old fashioned way—in a magazine. You know, those things made out of paper? Still around. I will tell you how I acquired this important piece of intel, but first, I must disclose my personal history with fruit flies. Years ago,

Why it is that people who are perpetually broke always have enough money for a new tattoo?

I was desperate for a job to earn enough money to resume classes at the University of Iowa. The biology department posted an ad for a “Fruit Fly Sexer.” How hard could that be? When I went to the lab for the interview, the sandyhaired research assistant gave me a demonstration.

Researchers at UCSF discovered that if males are deprived from mating with females, they head for the alcohol, presumably to drown their sorrows. “This is how you do it,” he said, with a certain degree of smugness, I now recall. He brought out a clear plastic box full of fruit flies, and after inserting a probe began to separate the males from the females, pointing out the differences as he did so. Oh, right. This one’s Harry, that one’s Harriet. When he was finished, he mixed them all up again and handed the box to me.

“Here, you do it,” he said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Honest-to-God I did pay attention during the demonstration, and even nodded my head while murmuring, “I see….” Well, now that I was on my own, I did not see. What was that he said about the marks on the legs, the elongation of the body? Ah, Geez. “Harry . . . Harriet . . . talk to me,” I whispered. “I need this job.” Harry and Harriet were mum so I started to flick one fruit fly into the male section, another into the female—what the heck, I’ve got a 50/50 chance, right? Well, no. The assistant returned, retrieved the box from me and said he’d call. He never

did. What kind of loser can’t even get a job as a fruit fly sexer? Don’t answer that. Flash forward to today when I read the article exposing drunkenness in male fruit flies. Serves ‘em right. Would it have hurt them years ago to have given me a teensy sign? Researchers at UCSF discovered that if males are deprived from mating with females, they head for the alcohol, presumably to drown their sorrows. (Not sure what happens to the females if they don’t get to mate as much as they desire, but that’s a topic for another column on sexism in fruit fly research.) So the next time you spot a fruit fly heading for your liquor cabinet, don’t give it a second thought. His girlfriend is probably out of town and the poor dude just needs to drown his sorrows in your best Johnny Walker Red. We all have our issues.

Super Summer Specials

Happy Father’s Day!

What’s the difference between having a cold beer and going to the bathroom? About 35 minutes.

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June 2017

Comments Welcome: lalaugh6@gmail.com Aries: (Mar 21–Apr 19) The Ram Everybody gets it that you’re courageous enough to hold the sky! Rumor has it, it’s a bit fatiguing. Question is were you on a scenic drive or witness to a murder, or was that a mutter? What side of the story are you on West side or East? I guess in this case what matters is what you are willing to utter.

Leo: (Jul 23–Aug 22) The Lion “Here Ye! Here Ye!” A great crowd of courtiers and servants are intoxicated from your exuberant gooblie goo-ie-ness. They respond with buffoonery hoping to engage and gain your approval. When you are a pet you are a pet all the way from your first Kingy pooh to your last Queenie day.

Taurus: (Apr 20–May 20) The Bull Dependable from your first pirouette until your last dying day! Which is thicker your head or that accent you put on situations that don’t directly affect you. Let the heads twirl where they may and carefully surmise what it is that you really want! Then Go-Go!

Virgo: (Aug 23–Sep 22) The Virgin Your sublime conscientiousness has extended the longest day of the year into an all-day sucker. Your painstaking big decision has blocked the night and left some of us more rumpus bumpus fools searching for the morning star to guide us someday, somewhere, somehow to tomorrow!

Gemini: (May 21–Jun 20) The Twins Psst! Gem-Mambo...You are the Top Cat in town so let’s get crackin’ by dressing up sweet and sharp. Life is only a dance! Best to see LIFE as de big picture, udderwise your scurrying knee deep in the Poopla! How’s ‘bout some lousy goat cheese and soda pop for your birthday?!

Libra: (Sep 23–Oct 22) The Scales Beat the crud out a dem! How charming waving rocks, belts, bricks, blades and guns to claim your side of the street. Perhaps, finding a new way of living, a new way of forgiving all those ruckus out of balance fools may be just the bullet to bite. Call it a work in progress. Now beat it!

Cancer: (Jun 21–Jul 22) The Crab Honest Ernest Hemingway, a Cancer just like you was loyal as a door in your face. You gotta love that kind of trueness. You may call upon your war/love council for this next chapter. Because you’re drifting diagonally towards a steamboat that you can get on or get lost!

Scorpio: (Oct 23 –Nov 21) The Scorpion Who knows...something’s coming... something good, just by holding still you can touch your excitement. Keep your hands visible though, you’re in public view. Romeo and Juliet, Tony and Maria eventually evolved into the party of Bob, Carol, Ted, and Alice, no doubt there is a place for all of us.

Sagittarius: (Nov 22–Dec 21) The Archer Make it not be true that blowing your nose on your sleeve is an optimistic option for you. I know you’ve stuck to your own kind... of manner, your signature sway, your right-of-way and all a fair fight. You’ve made it thus far without losing your shirt, so stop sniveling ‘cause you’re the boss, just an arm’s length away. Capricorn: (Dec 22– Jan 19) The Goat There’s a Rumble! And it’s not in your stomach. You’ve got a rocket in your pocket ready to bust like a hot water pipe! Steady now, steadiness is your strength... Unwind, easy does it, play it cool. Accepting your limitations keeps you well protected. Tap into that good deep inside you and Pow Pow out of danger. Aquarius: (Jan 23–Feb 18) The Water-Carrier You planted yourself on the other team’s turf, so be it! Even just a word can do that. Snap, snap out of it. You are in an advanced state of shock! Use the back door just this once, consider it an intermission to high definition.

By Bini Switch to whistling cues when you’re on the outside and remember the simple rule: Keep off the grass. Pisces: (Feb 19–Mar 20) The Fishes M-a-r-i-a, Maria say it softly and it’s almost like praying...or is it Mariah? Either way society will always be plagued with decisions such as these. Your special business is compassion, but for now minus the com. You need to amp it up- kick it, stick it, drop it, f*ck it! How wonderful a sound can be. Listen if Chino can shop at Chico’s, you can certainly own your hour of power and make your imagination reel!

I hope this Father’s Day is as much fun as your life was before kids.

Once you realize that you don’t need a special occasion to buy a cake, the second part of your life begins.

June 2017

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on the

FOOL

By Stacy Lininger

ANNOYING POSTS ON FACEBOOK Changing your profile image twice a day. Did you really age that quickly?

1. How has beer enriched your life? 2. What is the connection between beer and hemorrhoids? 3. What is the theme song of your life? The threat of quitting Facebook Please, do us all a favor!

Checking in everywhere you go. Taking pictures of every meal. Now that I know you’re not home We eat. We know what and you have a 50 inch TV… food looks like. Sharing recipe videos you’re never going to use. Just invite me over for dinner.

CURB

Purposely vague about good news. Save time and just tell us.

Having an opinion on everything. Too much time on your hands.

I CAME ALL THE WAY FROM ENGLAND TO TELL YOU MY SON IS THE BEST!

Jeff Vitalich 1. It enriches my life because I make beer. 2. Both can make the next morning hurt. 2. “Don’t Stop Believing”

Rod Taylor 1. Beer helps others loosen up and get to my level. 2. They both end shitty, but live it up. Ha ha. 3. “Ramble On” by Led Zeppelin.

Milt Abel 1. It quenches my thirst, fills my belly, and only mildly impairs my judgement. 2. There’s no connection. That’s urban legend. 3. “Cast Your Fate to the Winds” by Vince Gauraldi.

Colin Moody 1. All of us chefs have done our share of wine dinners … but honestly, when we did a beer dinner … it was by far the best pairing with food. 2. Who cares if beer and any excessive drinking of alcohol leads to hemorrhoids … it’s a small price to pay for so much joy … 3. “Three Little Birds” by Bob Marley.

• • • •

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John Steinbeck 1. I’ve spent countless, delightful hours mulling over a pint with my buddy Doc. 2. Hops of wrath. 3. “Peel Me a Grape”

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Helping the Folks in their “Golden” Years

By Debbie Harris

I’ve been very fortunate in that I’ve made it to the grandma years and I haven’t experienced the loss of either of my parents yet. But there is a challenge that comes with the facts that they are in advanced years, each lives alone, and each has health issues. It does help that we all live in the same town. Last year we got to celebrate the holidays a little differently. Dad and I spent Thanksgiving evening in the Emergency Room with spinal stenosis, bulging discs, and arthritis. They’re not a very festive bunch. Not to be topped, Mom was told by her family doctor to get over to the ER on December 21, where she

was admitted for three days due to her body-buddies GI bleeding, excess blood thinner levels, and anemia. She looked green and bled red in tribute to the colors of the season. She was so excited to be at the hospital that her heart skipped some beats, which brought her a new angel with glad tidings, a cardiologist. She was released in the afternoon on Christmas Eve, which was great for my holiday cooking reviews. Anything I made would taste better than hospital food! Part of the duties of accompanying my parents to their doctors’ appointments is the packet of forms each provider needs filled out, six to eight pages.

Watch out for double sided pages. If you forget the back, they return you to your seat with the clipboard and pen and a warning to be sure all signatures and initials are in place. There are always LOTS of signatures. With every doctor’s procedure or new patient packet, I feel like the health care provider is closing escrow on my parent.

Why does the vision clinic print patient questionnaires in 10 point font? Neither parent’s eyesight is great, so I do the writing for them. Over time, I’ve learned some of the boxes to check for patient history and family history, but it can be awkward asking my parents questions about their health histories in the waiting room. Mom has a hearing aid and dad probably should too, so I try to address the questions into their “good” ears and/or maybe even face them while I’m asking so they can read my lips (I never say “No new taxes”). Still, I’m sure it was probably startling to others in the waiting room if they heard my hearing impaired-decibel question, asking my mother if she’s ever had an abortion. Talk about a HIPAA violation! But it is reassuring to know that my dad has avoided Lyme Disease. I try to be as thorough as possible with the doctors’ forms, but I wonder if the health provider really needs all the information in the questionnaires in order to provide services to my parent. My father is 91 years old and is

June 2017

coming for physical therapy for back problems. Do you really need to know if he still has his appendix? My mother is 85 years old. Is it essential for her to remember when her last menstrual period was to see a cardiologist? What if she can’t remember? In each patient information packet there are always diseases or conditions whose names we don’t recognize. We always say “no” to those, assessing that if we don’t know what it is, they must not have had it. Other questions that arise are: Why does the vision clinic print patient questionnaires in 10 point font? Why does the orthopedist only have patient exam rooms that are down the long hallway with a left turn and down another long hallway with a right turn? If you’re in a hurry, doctor, you’d better give a senior patient a head start! Bring bread crumbs to find your way out or ask for strategically placed cheese leading to the exit. Plan to leave on all fours, sniffing. Whether you’re in your “golden years” or a helper to someone in their “golden years,” or not, Happy Father’s Day to all the dads!

A Monterey cop pulled me over and said, “Papers.” I said, “Scissors, I win!” and drove a way.

June 2017

COOL

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DADS will never Say… • “I'm lost! Looks like we'll have to stop and ask directions.” • “No son of mine is going to go without an earring – Quit your belly-aching, and let's go to the mall.”

• “Your Mother and I are going away for the weekend. You might consider throwing a party.” • “Now that you're 14, you’re ready for unchaperoned car dates.”

• “Here's a credit card and the keys to my new car – GO CRAZY.”

• “What do you mean you want to play football? Figure skating not good enough for you, son?”

• “Why get a job? I make plenty of money for you to spend.”

• “Father's Day? Don't worry about that—it's no big deal.”

MontereyBaySports.com MontereyBayRecreation.com

There is only one rule: Every row, column and box of 3x3 cells must contain the numbers 1 through 9 once.

MontereyBayNonProﬁts.com MontereyBayGoGreen.com MontereyBayBayLegal.com MontereyBayTransportation.com For a complete list of our Websites go to:

www.MontereyBayCoolWebsites.com Created, Designed and Provided by the:

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Info@TheChamberOffice.org www.YourChambersOfCommerce.org 505 Broadway Ave., Seaside • (831) 394-6501

Answers on page 24

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By Ted Gargiulo

The Wheel Deal

I’d like to say that my dad taught me to ride a bicycle. Truth is, I was neither teachable nor terribly coordinated. I suspect I’m missing a crucial circuit in my brain that keeps a person centered. Not that I was any better at learning the piano, but at least I didn’t fall off the bench and bust my face when I failed. How I eventually transcended the problem, however, remains a mystery. My two-wheeler came with a set of “training wheels” whose function was to help me balance myself till I learned to ride without them. Instead, they became a crutch, the left one especially. For some reason, I’d favor that one side and ride at an

angle. Sorta defeated the purpose of having trainers. Every so often, the wheel would collapse under the constant strain, and I’d wipe out. Then I’d curse the wheel, curse the bike, and storm into the house. When I was 8 or 9, my dad decided it was time I learned to ride a bicycle properly. First thing he did was remove the training wheels. I was petrified. He held onto the bike while I sat on it, showed me how to balance myself in the seat, then walked with me a distance while I peddled. Once I got up to speed, he let go. Sensing no trainers to lean on, I panicked and lost control. Crash! We tried this several times, but I kept

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toppling into things. Finally, I told my dad I’d had enough. So the bike went back into storage and sat idle for the next few months.

Sensing no trainers to lean on, I panicked and lost control. Crash! Now, check this out. One night, I dreamt I was riding my twowheeler without the training wheels. In the dream, I was perfectly centered, confident, and peddling as though I’d been doing this my whole life. For once, I KNEW what being balanced felt like! Where this sensation came from, I couldn’t say. Yet, when I awoke, it was vivid as ever. I told my dad that morning, “I’m ready to start riding again!” Together we retrieved the bike and pushed it to the local gas station to re-inflate the tires. Soon as we were done, I hopped on and rode off, exactly as I had in my dream. No training wheels, nobody holding on to steady me. I just DID it! How incredible is that?

June 2017

Sadly, I had no such enlightenment regarding roller skates—only visions of annihilation and defeat. Whoever bought them did NOT know me at all! I couldn’t understand how people glided around so freely on those insane things without killing themselves. Friends tried to show me how to skate; made it look and sound so easy. It wasn’t. Heck, you’d think those clunky metal wheels would have provided greater stability, if less speed, than today’s more dynamic rollerblades. Not so. I attained breakneck speeds (literally) every time I struck the pavement, which happened very suddenly, and very often. It’s a wonder I didn’t shatter my kneecaps. Only once in my life did I receive a revelation in my sleep. Why, of all things, did I dream about riding a bicycle? Why not something more profound, more creative? I have no explanation. All I can tell you is that once I learned how, I never forgot it.

My daughter gave me a “World’s Best Dad” mug. That’s how we know she’s sarcastic

I now pronounce you Man and Wife. You may change your Facebook status.

831.372.5186

June 2017

Greeter of the Human Race ….continued

By Laura “LA” Sottile Announcer: “UPCOMING EVENT EVERYONE! MOVIE IN THE PARK!” GHR: “A movie is an EVENT?!” Announcer: “It’s going to be shown in the park and projected onto the Redwood trees. It’s Robin Hood for God Sakes!” I was simply inquiring to the announcer why was he calling it an EVENT. I believe I, Greeter of the Human race is turning into Geek on the Street, respectively. He looked at me sideways. I even turned my head in alignment, did not help. Seems like everything is a Fu#%ing EVENT!

I want to feel the magical details life keeps hidden until just the right time comes to reveal them. I’m refusing yet another external urgent itinerary. That where I am now, in this moment, is being hyped up to be a bigger and better different moment. The present moment has been

Some people are like clouds. When they go away it’s a bright day.

dissolved. I want to feel the magical details life keeps hidden until just the right time comes to reveal them. Do not delete the overture. It seems run of the mill, perfectly mundane routine action of the day can be considered an EVENT! If you should miss the event, you will NOT pass go and you will not collect the 200 shallow friends that networking can lavish on you. The EVENT RULE: Announcer: “An EVENT occurs one time but can last for several days.” It sounds like a skin rash…I looked up EVENT in the Webster Dic. 1. Something that happens. You see, nothing of great measure or importance. Except that we count on the EVENT to transport us to somewhere over the rainbow. 2. A noteworthy happening: Ah yes, the stakes are rising. But how do we measure noteworthy? Noteworthy used to be of a special excellence. A notable period in universal history, including the apparent motion of the sun across the sky. 3. A social occasion or activity. Perhaps, encountering an old friend by surprise? Could I plan for that? An activity can be dead heading my daisies. I could make an EVENT by video taping the pretty pink dry daisy heads and display them as little seeds that ensure us that there is life after death. Could I call this an EVENT? I could add background applause. 4. The fundamental entity of observed physical reality represented by a point designated by three coordinates of place and

one of time in the space-time continuum postulated by the theory of relativity. COULD this be…could this really be!? BEING! NO! REALLY! BEING!! JUST BEING! JUST PLAIN OLD UGLY BEING! You mean this in itself is an EVENT? YES! I guess we could throw in some terrorism to pep things up! NO, could get messy, might not end well. Exactly, where is our imagination. There is the possibility that the EVENT that you have been sweating over is not EVENTFUL. Eventually, this random roll of dice will turn. Let’s create an event from the

January 2014

JOKES

SUBMITTED

www.foolishtimes.net inside, an EVENT about asking our higher selves for advice. WHOA! The higher self? Is this a new age EVENT? What really is the higher self? Why do we call it the higher self? Is it just above us? Does it want to come down and hang out? Or perhaps it would rather stay above the human embroil of EVENTS. I don’t know. But, I do know when that still clear voice speaks…IT IS TRULY AN EVENT! Something ordinary is certainly extraordinary, without needing to orchestrate. Our humble watchful eye unfolds the EVENT…a symphony of the beach. Monterey Bay Now that’s an EVENT!

LaLaugh Productions Performer / Published Author lalaugh6@gmail.com

FUNNY BONES BY THE MEDICAL COMMUNITY

A man comes to the ER with a concussion, multiple bruises, two black eyes and a 5 iron wrapped around his neck. The doctor asked, “What happened to you?” “Well I was playing golf with my wife. We both sliced our golf balls into a cow pasture. I found one of the balls stuck in a cow’s fanny, and yelled to my wife, “This looks like yours. I don’t remember much after that ...”

June 2017

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THE ANSWER IS…the arts! Duck Tape. They all come to virbrant life in his artwork. And, yeah, some of it is more obvious than others: Three Sheeps to the Wind? Swine Tasting? The Pug Crawl? But so what? As Bullas himself will tell you, he doesn’t mind being goofy. It’s one thing to be punny, it’s another thing to execute his visual puns with hilarious skill. Bullas can be — and is — a serious artist. His work has won top awards and he was elected to membership to the Knickerbocker Artists of New York in 1986. But it’s the funny stuff that keeps him afloat. He and his wife, Claudia, are marketing mavens who merchandise his licensed work aggressively and without apology. “There is no sin in marketing,”

Will Bullas is a serious artist, a master of watercolor and technique. But he doesn’t mind being told he is goofy, silly or even stupid. Such libels are in his job description, at the core of his success. A punster at heart, Bullas brings tortured phrases to life. He extends literal definitions to their most ridiculous element. He’s never met a cliché he hasn’t turned upside-down. You know what a crowbar is, right? Loosens lugnuts and pries off hubcaps. But what Bullas sees when he hears “crowbar” is a half-dozen black birds enjoying cocktails at the bar. In the same vein, Bullas would like you to meet Crow Vadis, the Tipsy Chicks, a Spring Lamb and the

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he said. “There’s a gold mine out there if you’re willing to put in the work.” Too many artists drop the ball — or perhaps lack the confidence — when it comes to peddling their work,” he said. It helps, of course, if an artist can emerge from the crowded field of talent with a style that clearly resonates with the public. After all, the world is full of watercolorists who can produce astounding seascapes. In Bullas’s case, humor is the hook. Bullas said he had to learn the marketing end of his craft on his own, because the business end of cultural endeavors generally isn’t included in art-school curricula. He and Claudia came to the Monterey Peninsula in 1974, fresh out of art schools in Santa Barbara. He developed a technique of layered watercolors that produces vibrant colors and detail, with toothbrush-spattered backdrops. He’s prolific and he’s quick. Talent wasn’t an issue. Emerging from the pack was. “We tried a lot of things that didn’t work out,” he said, “but access to the digital work has been a key.” His online presence allows him to sell everything from original artwork to prints to pillows and coffee cups and every sort of tchotchke imaginable. “I have a hippie friend who

www.foolishtimes.net told me once, ‘You’re Walmart,’ ” Bullas said. “And I told him, no, I’m Willmart.” He said he employs what he calls a “bread-crumb theory of marketing” in which he consciously leaves a trail of his visual humor wherever he goes, with the expectation that patrons will buy his work — or his tchotchkes — if he can make them laugh. Not only that, but his work sometimes lands in the unlikeliest of places. Someone once gifted Jane Goodall — yes, that Jane Goodall — a Will Bullas-produced coffee mug depicting a chimpanzee wearing a powdered wig and staring at a peeled banana. The caption, of course, is “Court of Appeals.” Goodall so enjoyed the gift that she sent Bullas a fan letter, and later invited him personally to a lecture she was giving in San Francisco. He spent 45 minutes with her before the lecture, talking primates and comedy. With all this acclaim and the success of his art, Bullas is obviously a confident craftsman. “My commitment to the world is this: Everyone should own at least one Will Bullas,” he said. “Either an original print or a tchotchke.” Funny guy. NOTE: Will Bullas was the Arts Council for Monterey County Champion of the Arts Luminary in 2014. Visit arts4mc.org for more information about the Arts Council.

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The other day, my wife told me that I don’t take her to expensive places any more so I took her to a gas station.

June 2017

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Finding Myself

by Robyn Justo

So if in the beginning was the Word, I think I might need to buy a vowel. This isn’t a religious or ethical discourse, yet oddly enough I heard a very similar question being asked in a presentation at church a while back. Long ago, a little, happy singlecelled Sperm-eggo appeared on the scene, complete with DNA (the first identifier). Cells multiplied and divided at warp speed. This got me ruminating, prompting an internal parade of rhetorical questions relentlessly marching through my brain … when in the heck did I begin? Was it in Mom’s womb? Prior to? The moment of my first heartbeat? My first breath? Or MY first word? I’m here now, but where am I? I mean the specific and localized “I.” When I was born, I was immediately classified and identified, fragmented into categories, choices from columns A and B, male or female, normal or abnormal. They measured me horizontally and put me on a scale like a few pounds of meat. I was given a name, a Social Security number, and an inky footprint. And so the ego was birthed, including lots of labels that others gave me and many that I picked up and stuck to my own skin. If one gets a name, ego automatically comes along for the wild ride and most of the time ends up driving. Ego picks a few identifiers and the game begins. Smart, dumb, bad, good, pretty, funny-looking, shy, outgoing, tall, short, handsome, ugly, cool, uncool, interesting, boring, and so on. I arrived with a baby body,

then got a “terrible two” toddler body, trading it in for a little kid body, later morphing into an aggravating adolescent, then young adult, regular adult, middle-aged person, and a senior creature.

If one gets a name, ego automatically comes along for the wild ride and most of the time ends up driving. In this process there are always infinitely more identifiers to choose from. Daughter, girlfriend, wife, salesperson, writer, policeman, doctor, minister, lawyer, bum. And out of those, the categories became even more defined (and confined). Gay, straight, fat, skinny, rich, poor, lovable, unlovable, sexy, frumpy, spiritual, atheistic. Over the years, I had my chubby (label) times so I lost weight. Sometimes I wondered, if I kept losing weight, how much could I lose until I lost the original “I” and where was the “I” in those

lost pounds now, the ones I knew had my DNA in them. (And where is Mama June?) It is said that we get a new body every seven years, skin and all. Why doesn’t my skin look new if I have done this silly regeneration thing nine times? Do my skin cells have memory of the old me? All of our cells start out with DNA. Then, believe it or not, some cells (like red blood, hair, skin, and nails) destroy the nuclei. My hair is obviously no longer mine because it is dropping off my head like it’s done with me. I hear that we keep some old neurons and some tooth enamel cells stick around during the continual trade-in process. Maybe “I” is a partial brain with teeth. Or maybe “I” lives in my mind. Hmmm, thoughts live in the mind, yes? And memories too. Maybe “I” am just one of those thoughts, created by all of those labels that lose their adhesive over time. Maybe I am too self-absorbed. Maybe “I” is the one asking these questions. And maybe we just have been taught to believe that there is a separate, individuated “I.” Oh this is hurting my aging neurons. I want to watch Wheel of Fortune. I need to buy another vowel. (What IS that word??) There is no “U” and I really don’t think there is an “I.” It might be easier Finding Nemo or Dory.

Silence is golden, unless you have kids. Then it’s just plain suspicious.

June 2017

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School’s Out for Summer. Oops, It’s Never Out!! By Rex Keyes

A recent newspaper article in California stated that more high school students are graduating because they are getting better grades. Some people have said that the reason for the higher graduating statistics is that the standards for graduation have been lowered which means fewer students flunking out. Whatever the reason is, an incident in a Los Angeles school district might shed some light on the subject.

An incident in a Los Angeles school district might shed some light on the subject. There was a high school quarterback who was very popular at school because he played so well that the school won a lot of games. But, he wasn’t as good in the classroom. In fact, his grades were so poor he did not have enough credits to graduate. He being so popular, the student body petitioned the principal of the school to allow him to graduate anyway. The school principal had

high academic standards and not wanting to set an example that just anyone with bad grades could just get off the hook and get a diploma sent a letter to the whole student body. In the letter it said that would be a meeting in the high school auditorium and he will ask the high school football player one question. If he answers it correctly, he will graduate. The day of the meeting came and the auditorium was packed. The principal who was up on the stage called the football player to come forward. Over the speaker he reiterated to the football player that if he answered this one question correctly he would graduate. In the whole auditorium there was dead silence. “Ok, the question is what is 7 times 4.” The football player was silent; he looked down and put his hand to his chin contemplating the answer. Finally, after about 30 seconds, he looked up at the principal and said: “I believe the answer is 28.” For a couple of seconds the whole student body was silent, and then they began to shout out loud, “give him another chance, give him another chance!!”

Then there is the toughest school of all. It is a school everyone goes through. And if one doesn’t watch, listen and learn from this school, the consequences can be tough. That school is called, “The School of Hard Knocks.” It is an old term which means where one learns from their everyday experiences. This school goes on for the rest of one’s life. For instance, if one makes an error on their income taxes, then they get charged a penalty. Eat too much candy as a kid and there is the possibility of getting a tummy ache. Talk back to your boss and you will be on unemployment. Exceed the speed limit with a black and white motorcycle parked by the side of

the road and a man pointing a device at you and you will get a speeding ticket. Tease your cat and you will get scratched. Wash your car in winter and it will probably rain the next day. Forget to pick up Foolish Times the first week of the month when it comes out and they will all be gone when you come back. And finally, a lot of the kids’ attitude in school can best be described by the video of the song “Break the Rules” by Charli XCX. And if you go way back in time there is the song by Alice Cooper called, “School’s Out for Summer” which expresses the students’ relief upon graduation from high school. Good ole’ Alice Cooper. Congratulations on graduation and welcome to the 40-hour work week.

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June 2017 talking on the phone during the entire episodes. Acting on a tip from the photos, police arrested Sarah Kraus, 33, on March 28.

By Chuck Shepherd

Training Day • A June 2016 police raid on David Jessen’s Fresno County (California) farmhouse caused a $150,000 mess when sheriff’s deputies and Clovis Police Department officers “rescued” it from a trespassing homeless man — with the massive destruction leading to Jessen’s lawsuit announced in March. The misdemeanant helped himself to an ice cream bar, some milk and half a tomato, but was otherwise “unarmed;” however, by the time the police standoff ended, the “crime scene” included more than 50 cop cars, a SWAT team (and backups), two helicopters, standby ambulances, a police robot, and a crisis negotiation team. Windows, walls and wroughtiron doors were destroyed; tear gas and a “flash bomb” were employed. (Jessen suspects that the farmhouse’s isolation enticed police to decide that it presented an excellent training opportunity.)

Compelling Explanations • “Pro-choice” activist Jessica Farrar, a Texas state legislator, introduced a bill in March to create consistency between the state’s rigorous regulation of women’s reproductive functions and those of men (regulation which, by the way, in either case she calls “invasive” and “unnecessary”). Because Texas’s anti-abortion laws highlight “procreation” as a crucial

government interest, she believes male use of erectile-dysfunction drugs should be regulated as abortion is. Under her bill, individual use of Viagra or similar drugs must be preceded by “counseling” similar to that required by abortion laws, and since male masturbation involves the “wasting” of precious sperm cells, it, too, would require “beforehand” counseling. • Jason Sexton told KFSM-TV in Fort Smith, Arkansas, in April that he alone had been digging the massive hole neighbors noticed, now 34 feet deep and with separate tunnels extending off of the main hole. Police had come to check it out, since it was on another person’s private property (and not the city’s, which Sexton had assumed). He said he had been digging off and on for three years to get an answer to whether “the Spanish” had been in Fort Smith centuries ago, mining iron, and, if so, the site should therefore be a lucrative tourist destination. Sexton said he felt he had to give his explanation: “Nobody in their right mind,” he said, “would dig a hole (this big) for no reason.”

Crime Report • At a time of growing awareness that some people seem almost addicted to their cellphones and instant 24/7 communication, police in Brookfield, Wisconsin, released surveillance photos of a woman in the act of robbing banks on March 25 and 27 — while standing at teller counters and

• Paul Perry Jr., 39, sound asleep behind the wheel of his car, with motor running, at 6 a.m. on April 2, was in no position to talk his way out of a DUI ticket, but did offer a gentle challenge to the Youngstown, Ohio, police officer. Several times, according to the police report, Perry offered to “thumb wrestle” the officer to get out of the ticket. From the report: “Perry was advised officers would not thumb-wrestle him.”

Leading Economic Indicators • The eight elite Ivy League universities are better thought of as “hedge fund(s) with classes,” according to a March report by the activist Open The Books, and thus there is little reason for taxpayers to have given them the more than $41 billion in grants and entitlements they received over a recent six-year period. The schools are already legendary for their $119 billion “endowments” (based on donations from alumni and aggressive investment). Those endowments are enough, according to Open The Books, that (assuming donations continue to arrive at the same pace) schools could provide free tuition to every student in the eight schools — in perpetuity. (Even if no new donations are made, the eight schools could provide such free tuition for 51 years.)

Ironies • Federico Musto was suspected recently by Wired.com of audaciously inventing academic credentials to help land his job as CEO of the company Arduino (a circuit-board manufacturer popular in the computer industry among coders creating, among

other things, robots and motion detectors). Arduino’s work is “open source” — creating hardware that others, by design, can exploit and modify for their own loftier projects. It might thus be said that Musto’s claimed academic “accomplishments” (his so-called MBA from New York University and claimed Ph.D from MIT) are themselves the product of his having “open-sourced” his own, previously modest curriculum vitae.

The Foreign Press • Village police in Bangladesh arrested Yasin Byapari, 45, in January on the complaint of his wife — after she had learned that she was not, as he had told her, his second spouse, but rather the 25th of his 28. (Police found him at the home of No. 27.) The accuser said she had, through sleuthing, tracked down 17 of her “competitors.”

The Passing Parade • In same-day competition in March, perennial Guinness Book records jockeys Zoe L’Amore and Ashrita Furman squared off over the record for stopping blades on an electric table fan the most times in one minute using only their tongues. On Italian TV, L’Amore stopped blades 32 times, but Furman, at a different venue, later stopped 35. • Norway unseated Denmark as the world’s “happiest” country, according to the UN’s Sustainable Development Solutions Network. (There was no word on whether Denmark was unhappy about losing the top spot.)

June 2017

KNOCK OFF

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Knock knock Who’s there? Mikey! Mikey who? Mikey doesn’t fit in the keyhole!

Knock knock Who’s there? Frank! Frank who? Frank you for being my friend!

Knock knock Who’s there? Howard! Howard who? Howard I know?

Knock knock Who’s there? Wooden shoe! Wooden shoe who? Wooden shoe like to hear another joke?

Knock knock Who’s there? Beets! Beets who? Beets me! Knock knock Who’s there? Ice cream! Ice cream who? Ice cream if you don’t let me in! Knock knock Who’s there? Cows! Cows who? Cows go ‘moo’ not who! Knock knock Who’s there? A titch! A titch who? Bless you! Knock knock Who’s there? Tank! Tank who? You’re welcome! Knock knock Who’s there? Luke! Luke who? Luke through the keyhole and you can see!

Knock Knock! Who’s there? Radio! Radio who? Radi-o not, here I come! Knock knock! Who’s there? Cows go Cows go who? No, cows go moo! Knock knock! Who’s there? Honey bee Honey bee who? Honey bee a dear and get me a soda! Knock knock! Who’s there? Doris Doris who? Doris locked, that’s why I’m knocking!

It’s simple to be wise. Just think of something stupid to say and then don’t say it.

Year of the rooster

www.foolishtimes.net

By Lily Brun

Apricot — A Peach with Attitude I was thinking about apricots the other day. It’s about time for them to start showing up on the summer fruit scene. They’re considered a stone fruit — along with peaches, nectarines, cherries and plums. Hmmmm. You might wonder, of all the things to be mulling over, why I was thinking about apricots. Well, fresh apricots are not around for very long.They show up early in summer and then disappear. It’s a short-lived existence, which is slightly annoying. I was thinking that I had to be sure to get some before they vanished … which would be incredibly annoying. And then I was thinking about being annoyed over not getting any apricots which of course is just silly. And then I was talking to my 20-something daughter about being annoyed that I might not get any apricots this year (we do have deeper conversations about life than this, but apricots have been on my mind) and she said, “Mom, do you know what a stone-fruit is?”

June 2017

“Of course, I do,” I replied with a hint of vexation in my voice. “It’s a summer fruit that has a pit in the middle (see first paragraph for examples, please).” She giggled, actually she guffawed and said, “No it’s someone who kind of goes bonkers over minor things that are mildly annoying, like missing out on apricots.” Could it be? My Gen-X daughter is pretty savvy about these things. So, this bit of news drove me to google and the urban dictionary and sure enough, she’s right. What?! I’m a stone-fruit, also known as a apricot boy, or in my case girl? What twisted logic turns this fabulous fruit into slang for something so negative? How can something so scrumptious be fodder for such cynicism? So, it got me thinking, again. I knew it was because whoever coined this phrase had never tasted a ripe apricot, clearly never experiencing this unparalleled summer fruit sensation. The small, pink-blushed golden orb is intensely flavorful, thanks in large part to the triple threat of fructose, sucrose and glucose that makes it so sweet. But there’s a

I told my wife she was drawing her eyebrows too high. She looked surprised.

tartness too that just makes this bite-sized drupe addicting. You don’t have to peel it. There’s no fuzziness to the skin. An apricot is like a peach or a nectarine with attitude. Surely, if whoever was behind this nonsense knew all this then she would have a change of heart and rethink the definition. Which got me thinking, again. Urban Dictionary is a crowdsourced dictionary, anyone can contribute. So, I’ll start a campaign. I’ll educate. I’ll cajole. I’ll persist in my efforts to change the apricot boy designation from negative to positive, to give new meaning to the words stone fruit that

highlight the gratifying nature of my favorite fruit. I’ll call for the vote; I’ll force the issue. But first, some research on what constitutes a perfect apricot. This sent me on a quest to discover where the best apricots are grown. You’ll never guess. Right here in California in the Central Valley town of Patterson which bills itself as the Apricot Capital of the World. And OMG, the town hosts a Fiesta every year, and has for the past 47 years, that celebrates this precious commodity. And it’s this month! This got me thinking, again. Road trip!

An apple a day keeps anyone away if you throw it hard enough.

Whatever you call your Father … be sure to call him for dinner! Answers on pg 24

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June 2017

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STACY TALKS TO COMICS

Meet Chicago Steve Barkley By Stacy Lininger Stacy: Why Chicago Steve? Why not Monterey Steve? Steve: When I first came to Pacific Grove, from Chicago, I lived with five guys named Steve and a girl named Stephanie, so we had five Steves and a Stephanie. Stacy: Great name for a band. Steve: Stephanie would answer the phone and they’d say, is Steve there, and she’d say “where’s he from.” They’d say Chicago and she’d say, “Chicago Steve, telephone.” So, I became Chicago Steve. Stacy: So you moved away. Why did you leave us? Steve: I met my second wife and moved to Walnut Creek where I had the chance to book more gigs. We then moved to the mountains since she is a falconer. Stacy: So what about Monterey, what are we going to do, our last comedy club closed? Steve: There are no more comedy clubs? Monterey should have a comedy club. We were really lucky, Stacy, to grow up where we grew up, with all the great people. If you think about all the shows we used to do at the Club in Monterey and the amazing talent, I mean we had Ellen Degeneres, we had Kevin Nealon, we had Father Sarducci, we had Pat Paulson, A. Whitney Brown, and Will Durst… Stacy: That was actually how I discovered stand up comedy. How can we bring it back to Monterey? The Golden State Theatre does big shows sporadically but we don’t have a dedicated home for comedy. I remember you played

the Golden State Theatre a few years back. How did that go? Steve: Great, it was a benefit and we were sold out. Stacy: I understand you will be here next month for the Bacon Fest at the Monterey Fairgrounds. Will you have new material about bacon? Steve: Yes, bacon is now in everything – chap stick, cologne, ice cream, etc. Stacy: I prefer Kevin, but what would you combine with bacon? Steve: Bacon condoms. Stacy: What would be the point of that? Steve: Uh … it would be delicious. Stacy: Yes, back to the Bacon Fest. Don’t you think 12 bucks is a rollback price for such a star studded event – there’s you, the Medflies, Steve Ayres, and then some. Steve: Yes, they should charge $15.…so they can pay me more. Stacy: What message do you wish to communicate with your comedy? Steve: (laughter) the message of my comedy is chaos. It’s more like ‘getting sent to the office’ kind of comedy. Stacy: Finally, why is comedy important? Steve: Because human beings are one of just a handful of creatures that exist on this planet that have the ability to laugh at things that are funny. www.chicagosteve.com

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This guy walks in the Crown & Anchor and orders three beers. The bartender says, “Three beers for just you?” The guy says, “Well, I’m drinking one for me, one for my dad, and one for my brother.” The guy becomes a regular always ordering three beers, but one day he comes in and orders just two. The bartender says, “Just two beers, not three, are you sure?” The guy says, “yes, I’m drinking one for my dad, and one for my brother.” The bartender says, “Well what about the one for you?” The guy says, “Thanks for asking; I quit drinking.” Tony & Sara are the owner and your hosts at The Crown & Anchor. Come in and be delighted by their hospitality and humor.

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Wellies’ Fate

By Sally Perkins

It was the Spring of 2000 and Isaac and I were hiking the woods behind my parents’ new home in the countryside. The rain had made the deep ravines muddy and slippery so naturally we were holding hands - staying very close for balance, you know. I had my new, pink wellies on and he had on these manly (unnecessary) hiking boots with so much shoelace he had it tucked in at his ankle. We had only gone out for dinner once and I had made it an overly formal affair. So the next time we went out, Isaac decided, we’d go on a super casual outdoorsy date. So hiking, with mud and nasty bur plants waiting to eat your shins off.

Hear Me Roar! I took him to a little cave made of tree roots and eroded soil I had found on my first trip down there. I tried to be cool and crawled on my hands and feet to get inside. My pink wellies suffered for it. He laughed, though. A few steps ahead my daring must-showoff-be-a-woman-for-this-man instincts kicked in again. “I’m going to climb that ravine wall,” I said, a stupid smirk on my face. Isaac’s mouth dropped and he surveyed the muddy slide. “Ok,” he said slowly. His apprehension put a fire in my wellies and I ran at the wall. “I AM WOMAN!” I screamed in my head. My launch

MAKE ME

Baked Gnocchi wit h Bacon, Tomato and Cheese

INGREDIENTS

• One package gnocchi • ½ lb pepper bacon, chopped • ¼ lb mozzarella cheese, sliced • ½ lb tomatoes, chopped • ½ cp cherry tomatoes, halved

DIRECTIONS

was anticlimactic as my big wellies sunk in to the mud up to my knees, sucking them off my feet as I tried to pull out.

My launch was anticlimactic as my big wellies sunk in to the mud up to my knees, sucking them off my feet as I tried to pull out. The Fall of Man “Help?” I laughed nervously. “Nah, I don’t want to get in the way of the great warrior woman.” He smiled ever so charmingly and put his hands in his pockets. All right, fine. Forgetting to remain clean, I shoved my hands into the mud and used them as leverage to push myself out. I felt my knee pop. It wasn’t worth it. With heavy heart, I pointed my toes, and lifted my feet out of the beautiful, pink, wellies. My pride cold and muddy, Isaac

June 2017

offered his hand to me now. “Shall we leave stage left?” he smirked. If he wasn’t so darn cute…

The Sweet Revenge The walk back was slow and painful for me. Humbling, most likely as well. I had to let a silence fall, something I didn’t like in a date. But he was smiling, thinking of me all muddy, cradling my wounded pride. I thought about how hard he had tried to be so tough and smug as I dodged giant burs (my eyes were obviously trained on the ground). We took some time to plan our next hiking trip when we ran into a winding creek. Once back in the open fields where we could see my parents’ house, I sighed with relief, crunching the soft grass with my toes. “What are those!” Isaac screamed in an octave I could never hope to reach. Clinging to his miles of shoelace were dozens of giant dried out burs, their spines looking like little claws. “Those are a hundred reminders to give your woman a hand next time, young man,” I laughed. We named the ravine Wellies’ Fate in remembrance of the reason Isaac owed me a nice new pair of shoes and a much better date in the woods next time.

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• 2 garlic cloves, crushed • 1 tsp paprika • 3 tbs plain yogurt • ½ bunch fresh parsley, chopped • Salt & pepper to taste

1. Fry bacon until starting to crisp 2. Pour off fat 3. Add garlic and paprika, blend in 4. Add all tomatoes, simmer for 5 minutes 5. Remove from heat, stir in yogurt, parsley and salt and pepper 6. Cook the gnocchi in boiling salted water until they start to ﬂoat

7. Remove and fold in the sauce 8. Transfer the mixture to an oven-proof dish 9. Top with the sliced mozzarella 10. Place in 400 degree oven 11. Bake for 10 minutes or until cheese is melted and golden 12. Remove and allow to rest for 5 minutes before serving

My father is semi-retired. He goes half way to work, and then he comes home.

June 2017

Having a Cold Blast

by Zachary Michael Jack I remember folks singing the region’s meteorological praises when first I came to the Monterey Peninsula. “It’s great,” they’d say, looking every bit the part of the booster. “It’s autumnal in Carmel all summer long,” they’d blithely chirp, in what must have been one of the greatest climatological euphemisms of all time. These folks, I said to myself, were born to be realtors. Yes indeed, it can be downright brisk along Carmel and Monterey Bay in June when the marine layer rolls in, or when the fickle winds do an about-face and howl from the North. But there are hidden pleasures in shivering on Flag Day or grabbing your hoodie and Linus blanket to hear the municipal band play Taps on the Fourth of July. And here they are, in no particular disorder: —No need to suffer the sinful bearing of bodies on Monastery Beach. The cold pleases the monk in us who’s justifiably sheepish at seeing the kind of flesh for which our ancestors must surely have said a thousand Hail Marys. An occasional summer deep freeze

keeps even those with nudist tendencies safely and hygienically sealed in their North Faces. Where else can you see the mother of the bride wearing a parka over her low-cut dress at the ubiquitous June beach wedding? Are her teeth really chattering or is she merely overcome by emotion? —Cold means the deep and inexplicable joy in witnessing visiting bon vivants shivering in shorts and black dresses. There’s something reciprocally and perversely satisfying in witnessing, in practice, the kind of gloriously lame last-minute packing we ourselves fall victim to when visiting foreign nations. There they stand, these summer visitors to our not-so-fair climes, happily shivering in their Hello Kitty t-shirts. Is the Weather Channel app not available in Milan and Tokyo, or are these the world’s sunny optimists? I like to think the bracing temps wake our visitors up, like receiving one of the cold slaps Bette Davis dishes out in the old black and white movies, opening their eyes to the California that lies beyond Baywatch and 90210.

YOUR HELP IS NEEDED Del Monte Manor Needs a New Playground Anything you pledge is an investment in a child To help and more info: www.DelMontemanorPlayground.com 831.236.3529 A special thank you to P.M. Landscaping

www.foolishtimes.net —Brisk temps mean brisk sales at the surfeit of t-shirt and gift shops up and down Ocean Avenue and Fisherman’s Wharf. In the Midwest, snowy winters mean big bucks for private snowplow operators; on the Peninsula commerce-inducing cold drizzles send visitors scurrying inside to buy 50-cent rain slickers for the bargain price of $50. The look of joy worn by first-time parents beholding their healthy newborn hardly compares with the mien of mutual relief worn by a pair of drenched day-trippers ushered to the “outdoor gear” aisle. Ten minutes later, husband and wife emerge sporting a matched set of his-and-her rain slickers, fully satisfied in their orgasmic state of post-retail therapy. By then, of course, it’s sunny. —Inclement weather breeds camaraderie and plenty of

Where would our world-famous watering holes be without the occasional blast of wintery summer weather that sends us bellying up to the bar with that cat-fallen-into-thebathtub look? liquid consolation; just ask the Siberians, for whom vodka qualifies as a year-round, oneseason-fits-all aperitif. Given half a chance, Peninsulans talk up the famously awful “Crosby weather” that attends the AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am each February. They wax poetic about the peculiar pleasures of a day spent in a good, soaking rain chased by after-hours commiseration

with friends, a warm fire, and a warming drink. Indeed, where would our world-famous watering holes be without the occasional blast of wintery summer weather that sends us bellying up to the bar with that cat-fallen-into-thebathtub look? An hour later our undies are still soaked, but we’re having a kumbaya with the Norms at the bar, singing sea shanties and raising toasts to everyone including the in-laws. —Traumatic experience during a childhood swim lesson? A little insecure about the new tattoo on the ol’ bod? Take heart! Summer on the Monterey Peninsula means you have a built-in excuse not to dip your toe in the water or to think better of that too-revealing swimsuit that makes you feel like you’re wearing sausage a casing. “I would, you know, but the water’s waaaay too cold,” you chirp, excusing yourself to stay in your cover-up a safe distance from the icy surf. To really sell it, ditch your flip-flops, mince to the water’s edge, then scream bloody murder and holy blasphemy when the waters, chilled to morgue’s temp at the bottom of some of the world’s deepest ocean trenches, shiver your timbers. To the legions of body shamed I say, relax, our insecurities are written off in advance. The hellish weather serves as our heaven-sent enabler! We could go on and on about the abundant beauties and boons of our often bracing summer weather, but before we slip inside for a hot toddy in June one last recitation of our chilly virtues may do: where else in the world, I ask you, can you find so many perfectly good used wetsuits?

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June 2017

Mira, WOW! By Daria James

American Woman, Stay Away from Me Q: Which hand is it better to write with? A: Neither, it’s best to write with a pen! Q: Why can’t your nose be 12 inches long? A: Because then it would be a foot! Q: What makes the calendar seem so popular? A: Because it has a lot of dates! Q: What is it that even the most careful person overlooks? A: Her nose! Q: Did you hear about the robbery last night? A: Two clothes pins held up a pair of pants! Q: Why did Billy go out with a prune? A: Because he couldn’t find a date! Q: How do you cure a headache? A: Put your head through a window and the pane will just disappear! Q: Why don’t traffic lights ever go swimming? A: Because they take too long to change!

Gwyneth Paltrow wants to be the Oprah of wellness, and why not? They have so much in common. They are both white females born to wealthy parents in show business; their dads cast them in a movie, skipping those pesky auditions normal actors have to go through to land that guy drinking coffee number one part, and launched their acting career. What was that? That wasn’t Oprah?! Well, now I feel ridiculous! But not as ridiculous as Oprah felt after she said, “I would rather die than let my kid eat Cup-a-Soup.” Come again, that wasn’t Oprah either?! Right, next you are going to tell me she was born into poverty in some rustic Mississippi town, back when some people had to drink from separate water fountains. I used to eat those instant noodle soups all the time (before balling on a budget was cool and sodium was a public enemy). Add some chopped onions, squeeze one lime in, some salsa Tapatio and a splash of ketchup, and you got yourself a party! I bet Oprah never ate that. Shooooot, I should have my own TV show. Because I am doing fan-freaking-tastic! Not only are those cup of noodles deadly and delicious, they are motivators. Help me out here. Doesn’t one have to overcome some type of obstacle to start giving advice on how to better oneself? The audience might even believe you when you are talking to them. Next, you are going to tell me the daughter of a millionaire real

estate man is releasing a book about being a working woman and balancing a perfect life, while not even trying to understate her privileged life. Oh, she did?! ... Son of @#$%^&!!!

I do not speak French, I don’t even like French food, unless you count wine, and if you do then I would be Italian. I know America is the land of opportunity but some people are really stretching that, like the people that claim to be five percent of a minority. Especially when they: 1) do not speak the language, 2. Experience the struggle attached with said minority and, 3. Seriously, stop that! I have a mixed background; Spaniard, French, Yaqui and legend has it Asian, the latter has not been confirmed, and the person who could tell me all about it took that story to the grave, but you know legends never die. What I can tell you is that math is not my forte, so perhaps I just debunked that theory. The point being, when I fill out applications I

claim Mexican. For, I do not speak French, I don’t even like French food, unless you count wine, and if you do then I would be Italian. But from New York. As far as the Spaniard side, well, sometimes I have this urge to take other people’s properties and claim them as my own. I heard that is frowned upon nowadays, and they will not call you conquistador; unless you are a president and then you can just grab things, and some delusional nut job will try to rationalize those erroneous actions, which really says a lot more than less about them than the actual perp, so, there is that. I also feel like I am genetically inclined to decline taking naps (siesta is like a fiesta). In my book, all of Mexico’s bad habits should be attributed to the Spaniards. They love siestas in Spain as well. The Aztecs were busy building pyramids before those guys showed up, they had a civilization, they were astronomers, they were warriors, they did not have gunpowder though. Sometimes I wonder what would have been if the Vikings has sailed to Mexico first. Being the Oprah of something should mean one had an unfair disadvantage when they started and now have it all and then some. But this is America, and anyone can claim they started from the bottom, even Canadians. Hey, remember when the Falcons had a 25-point lead, and then the Patriots won the Super Bowl? They are the Oprahs of football.

The first part of our lives are ruined by our parents, the second half is ruined by our children.

June 2017

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It was graduation day at CSUMB and Mom was trying to take a picture of her son in a cap and gown, posed with his father. “Let’s try to make this look natural,” she said, “Junior, put your arm around your dad’s shoulder.” The father answered, “If you want it to look natural, why not have him put his hand in my pocket?”

Guide to Local Businesses & Services TRANSPORTATION Freedom Medical Transportation

Non-emergency through the door service. Wheel chair and gurney. Available 24/7. 831.920.0687 freedommedicaltransportation.com

TINY HOUSES Aﬀordable Housing in Monterey County. Design, Construction, Zoning/Building Code Compliance, Advocacy, Investment. Contact: mr.hutch@att.net

DOG SITTING & WALKING Central Coast Pet Sitter

SCREENS Real Screens

Aﬀordable high quality Italian custom design for any doorway and window. Complimentary in-home demonstration. 831.241.4964 www.realscreens.com

No need to leave your pet alone. Since 2009, oﬀering dog walking, pet sitting & yes... cat walking too! Bonded & Insured 831.524.3675 TheCentralCoastPetSitter.com

ESSENTIAL OILS doTerra

The Gift of Wellness Experience the highest quality oils and personal care spa products. Product and samples available in our store The Mailbox . 177 Webster St CERAMICS Monterey . 9-5pm M-F

CA TRAVEL BOOKS Venturing out? CA Road Trips Staycation? Monterey & Carmel staurtthornton.com

To Promote On Top Notch: Email sales@foolishtimes.net or call 831.648.1038

MUSIC DJ Vossenova

Lovable professional DJ features the greatest music of all time from the 50's, 60's & 70's.

831.236.5994 oldiestogo.com

AUTOMOTIVE Hans Auto Repair Factory trained Volvo tech Servicing all makes & models 831.583.9820 hansautorepair.com

AUTO DETAIL HORTICULTURE SUPPLIES Mont. Bay Horticulture Supply Grow with us! We have the products and knowledge to Help your garden be the envy of the neighborhood. Indoor and outdoor growing specialists. 831.384.9376

Montereybayhorticulture.com

We make your car look new. Waterless detail inside & out. At your oﬃce or home. By appt. 7 days a week. Holiday specials, ask us. 831.383.2993

June 2017

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Head and Shoulders A blonde, a brunette and a red head were in an elevator when a handsome man stepped in. After a couple of floors he left the elevator. After he left the red head said, “Man was he hot!” The brunette said, “Yeah but he could use some head and shoulders.” The blonde thought for a while and said, “How do you give a man shoulders?”

Blonde Painter A blonde decides to show her husband that despite what everyone says, blondes really are smart. While her husband is at work, she decides that she is going to paint the living room in their house. So the next day as soon as he leaves, she gets down to the task at hand. Her husband arrives home after

work and smells the distinctive smell of paint. He walks into the living room and finds his wife lying on the floor in a pool of sweat. He notices that she is wearing a fleece and a mink coat. He asks her what she is doing. She replies that she wanted to prove to him that not all blonde women are dumb and she wanted to do it by painting the room. He says that he was impressed at the good job she had done, but what’s with her wearing the two coats? She replies that she was reading the directions on the paint can and they said, “For Best Results, Put on Two Coats!”

“What’s up?” he asks. “I’m having a heart attack!” cries the woman. He rushes downstairs to grab the phone, but just as he is dialing, his four-year old son comes up and says, “Daddy! Daddy! Uncle Ted’s hiding in your closet and he’s got no clothes on!” The Dad slams the phone down and storms upstairs into the bedroom, past his screaming wife, and rips open the wardrobe door. Sure enough, there is his brother, totally naked, cowering on the wardrobe floor. “You scumbag!” says the husband. “My wife is having a heart attack and you’re running around with no clothes on scaring the kids!”

One-eyed Blonde Two blondes are walking down the road when one says, ‘’Look at that dog with one eye!’’ The other blonde covers one of her eyes and says, ‘’Where?’’

Blond Dad A blond guy gets home early from work and hears strange noises coming from the bedroom. He rushes upstairs to find his wife naked on the bed, sweating and panting.

My wife told me I’m going to be a father for the first time. The bad news is we already have two kids.

6.00

Dumb Guys There were two blond guys working for the city council. One would dig a hole, the other would follow behind him and fill the hole in. They worked furiously all day without rest, one guy digging a hole, the other guy filling it in again. An onlooker was amazed at their hard work, but couldn’t understand what they were doing. So he asked the hole digger, “I appreciate the effort you are putting into your work, but what’s the story? You dig a hole and your partner follows behind and fills it up again.” The hole digger wiped his brow and sighed, “Well, normally we are a three-man team, but the guy who plants the trees called in sick today.

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June 2017

June 3

La Merienda

Monterey celebrates its 247th birthday with a “Californio Party” in historic Memory Garden. museumofmonterey.org

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June 10

June 17

June 23-24

Almost Cut My Hair

Carmel Valley Art & Wine

An Intimate Evening with Eleven Women

A benefit concert for Big Sur Food & Wine featuring a tribute to CSNY. Linda Arceo opens. thebarnyard.com/events

Wine, food, strolling musicians and more than 50 artists make for a great day in the valley. carmelvalleychamber.com

An evening of three one act plays that will delight the soul. A great girl’s night out. pinkflamingotheater.org

June 18

Father’s Day

June 3-4

June 14

Artichoke Festival

Flag Day

58th year of honoring this tasty thistle. Lots to do, eat and drink with room to dance. artichokefestival.org

My Dad wanted to buy something that will make his life easier. So he went out and bought a present for my Mom.

Our flag has a proud and glorious history including being planted on the surface of the moon.

June 24

Bacon Festival

“All things not Kevin.” An all-star day with music, comedy, cooking demos, lots to drink and eat. Montereybaconfestival.com

June 9

Hops & Pops: Summer of Love

Enjoy craft beer and live music from the 60s at the Monterey Museum of Art. www.montereyart.org

June 20

Summer Solstice

June 16

The northern hemisphere is the closest to the sun at 9:24pm today.

Comedy Open Mic

Your friends think you’re funny. Bring them along to see you behind the mic before you quit your job for a career in comedy. pinkflamingotheater.org

June 9-11

Monterey Wine Festival A long list of events to satisfy the taste buds of both foodies and wine enthusiasts. West Coast Chowder competition Saturday. www.montereywine.com

June 26

Forgiveness Day

June 16-18

Monterey Pop Festival

It happened in Monterey 50 years ago. It’s happening again with a line up including Eric Burdon & The Animals and Phil Lesh of the Grateful Dead, who graced this same stage 50 years ago. montereypopfestival50.com

June 21

National Selfie Day

Grab your phone and take a selfie. Better yet, look around and see if you have a friend close by to take your picture.

To err is human, to forgive without strangling you and kicking you to the curb is divine.

June 2017

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Habitat ReStore

Love and Willow Grey

4230 Gigling Road, Marina 831.272.4830

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115 Monterey-Salinas Hwy, Salinas 831.455.7946 www.loveandwillowgrey.com

D FEATURED SHOP The ReStore is a volunteer-driven home improvement store owned and operated by Habitat for Humanity, Monterey Bay. Donations of new and used building materials, furniture, hardware, tools, and appliances are sold at a fraction of the normal retail price. Proceeds support local Habitat for Humanity programs. We are proud to extend a 10% discount to active and retired military.