Virginity: Custom-made

I heard recently that a new trend in cosmetic surgery involves an operation which, for want of a better way to put it, "re-virginizes'' a woman.
This seems wrong to me in so many ways.
First let's agree that phrases like "closing the barn door after the horse has left'' and "you can't get the toothpaste back in the tube'' and "a bell can't be unrung'' are fitting descriptions of the futility of this procedure: Losing one's virginity is an action, not anatomy.
Second, even anatomy is not a very effective method of determining virginity.
Third, why would one want to begin a lifelong commitment under what may be considered false advertising?
This is one of those cases where my conservative Christian brothers and sisters have the better idea.
One can, in those circles, reclaim a kind of virginity by remaining chaste until marriage even if one has been less than chaste in the past. It's what forgiveness and redemption are all about.
And it doesn't require stitches.

'Til The wheels fall off and burn

Well, we still like to think of ourselves as a two-car family. This, despite the fact that one of those cars has been towed away to the scrap-metal yard.
We just tell ourselves that the car is "in the shop'' for a few months until we find another car.
The Rileys tend to drive the cars we own into the ground, until the day the mechanic weeps in despair as we pull into his shop once again.
Bob Dylan sang it best in "Brownsville Girl:'' '' We're going all the way, 'til the wheels fall off and burn, 'Til the sun peels the paint and the seat covers fade and the water moccasin dies."
By the time our vehicle dies, it's way past it's expiration date. If it was a carton of milk, there'd be big chunks of curd in it.
One car would be fine, except for the fact that my wife and I both work. So it's drop her off, drive to work, leave work, pick her up and drive home.
The days get long that way.
So we're saving up for another beater.
Back in the day, of course, when I was a full-time minister, people actually gave us cars once in a while.
There doesn't seem to be that same tender generosity given to journalists.
How much of a hassle is it for you guys when one of your cars goes belly-up?

Intelligent Design going the way of the dodo?

Right in our own back yard, in Pennsylvania, a court has made the schools safe for science once again. The whole Dover Township Intelligent Design brouhaha is over and some are gnashing their teeth that science has whupped religion.
No, it hasn't. All that was decided was that the doctrine of intelligent design (think creationism with looks and money) is more religion than science and therefore should not be taught in science classes.
Yay!
Look, I'm a person of faith. But I agree with the late agnostic natural scientist Stephen Jay Gould, who said that religion and science are ""two noncompeting magisterium.''
In other words, they work different sides of the street and answer different sets of questions.
Personally, I'll say a prayer before I get on an airplane, but I don't want the designer of the airplane to work out the structure of the thing by doing all kinds of calculations and saying, "And then God does something, and the plane flies.''
And can we at least agree that the theory of evolution is more than just a shot in the dark?
I mean it's up there with Newton's theory of gravity, not down there with the theories about whether there was a second gunman on the grassy knoll in Dallas.
Give me faith and give me science, but don't give me one of them pretending to be the other, OK?

A message from the great beyond?

Sometimes it seems to me that in the days immediately prior to payday the ATM machine functions like a Ouija Board. With trepidation and a growing dread, you approach the machine and ask it a simple question, something like, "Will I buy lunch today?''

And as you push the various buttons on the keyboard, it as though you are moving that pointer over the Ouija Board. And the answer comes, "O - V- E - R - D - R -A - W -N, '' and you know that the spirit world is angry with you. Not to mention your wife as well, when she finds out.

Like a clown funny?

Children and men appreciate slapstick more than women, according to information cited in Paul Grobman's "Vital Statistic,'' a book filled with interesting facts like this.

Certain women of my aquaintance have pointed out that there are certain redundancies in the categories of those who think the Three Stooges are a hoot. These women think they're funny and that nothing is funnier than Shakespearean cross-dressing hijinx.

I also read that people laugh about 15 times a day, and often laugh not in response to a joke or a guy slipping on a banana peel, but after some innocuous remark like "It's good to see you again.'' In other words, people chuckle over absolutely nothing. Which, I suppose, is better than crying over nothing. And, frankly, I've known a member or two of "The Three Stooges Are Just Stupid'' brigade to do just that.

My question is, what makes a person funny? Not a professional jokemeister, mind you, but the average Joe and Janie. And what about folks who think they are funny but manifestly are not? What blinds them to their own unfunniness?

Pregnancy a handicap?

Let me go on record as saying I'm generally in favor of anything that makes pregnant women less cranky. The New Jersey Assembly has a bill pending that would allow them to apply for one of those temporary handicap signs that hang from the rear-view mirror.

As I understand it, not every pregnant woman would be eligible for one. Certainly not those pregnant supermodel types who gain hardly any weight at all. No, the bill includes women whose mobility is "limited as a result of pregnancy.....''

In other words, the only women who would get the good spots are the ones I have come to refer to as "The Waddlers.'' Give 'em a spot, I say, before they go ballistic on me and my "one item over the limit but in the express lane anyway'' groceries in the checkout line.

Frankly, I don't think the bill goes far enough. It should guarantee that any woman actually in labor be entitled to any parking spot she wants.

God bless gender reassignment

God doesn't make mistakes, but nature sometimes does.
Cleft palates, club feet, Quasimodo-like humps and idiots mouthing off about sex change operations being somehow sinful are cases in point.
There is a substitute teacher in Eagleswood who is going to have a sex change operation.
This kind of thing happens. There are people who were born one gender and yet cruelly outfitted at birth with the wrong anatomy.
Some people are, of course, outraged, that such a person should be allowed to be a part of civilized society and that the forces of heaven stand arrayed against such a person.
I believe gender reassignment procedures are no more anti-God than getting that club foot looked at.
In fact, since God is vitally interested in each of us becoming wholly and truly who we are meant to be in this life, it could well be argued that God blesses those with the strength and fortitude to undergo these procedures and the doctors who perform them, and those who wish the person well.

Went to Harvard, won the Pulitzer, climbed Everest

So, the CEO of Radio Shack had to resign when it was discovered he had padded his resume. Well, not padded the thing so much as out-and-out lied about where he'd gone to school and what degrees he had received.

David Edmonson has said that he had a degree in psychology, a four-year degree. Or was it a three-year degree in theology. Actually, he says, he can't document the theology degree.
In any event, there were books with a lot of big words in them.

Let me just say that if you're gonna fib about having a theology degree, you will be answerable to more than just a board of directors. "You studied what?'' I hear God saying. "Did you get to the part about not lying?''

I never padded my resume, because when it came down to do it, I was woefully underqualified for every major job I held, at least at the time I landed it. And my employers knew it and took a gamble on me.

Honesty is the best policy, because it's easier than lying and having to remember what lie you told and to whom. I'm too lazy for that kind work. But I would like to know if any of you lied to get a job and if you got caught and what happened.

Out Of Luck with the Lottery

I don't want to rain on anybody's parade here, but I've been reliably informed that I'm going to win the big MegaMillions jackpot tonight.
It's true. When I got the tickets at a local convenience store, I asked the guy behind the counter to give me winning numbers.
"Sure, boss,'' he said to me.
So there it is. Hooray for me.
I don't usually play the lottery. I believe, as others have said, that the lottery is basically a "tax on stupid people,'' that is, people who don't understand math.
The only reason I play at all is because of something I read years ago. Some Princeton mathematician had said it only makes mathematical sense to play the lottery when the prize gets over $100 milllion.
I don't remember his reasons for this and I think the upshot was that it was just a matter of throwing your money away a little more prudently.
By the way, when I win the big bucks, I haven't decided whether to quit my job or not.
I've always wondered how much filthy lucre it would take to live a life of leisure. How much would you need to bail out of your job?
It is true that I have a list of people who, in the event of my winning the big one, I would drop a million dollars on.
You're not on the list.

Places to go, things to see and hear, Part 2

It has been suggested that before I start burdening readers with my pleas to tell me where to go and what to see and hear, I should reveal my own preferences.

Of course, it's also been suggested that I stop wasting everybody's time with such piffle, given the sorry state of the world and the starving children and everything. Frankly, I think well-rounded people can take time out from saving the planet and crank up some tunes, stop fretting long enough to take in a movie, and get out and see the world that needs saving..

The problem with listing the Top 5 of anything is that these things change over time, even over the course of a day sometimes. But if I had to list my favorite movies today it would go something like this.

''Nobody's Fool,'' the 1994 Paul Newman movie based on Richard Russo's novel about a small-town ne'er-do-well. Funny and well-acted and so true it hurts.
''The Godfather, Parts I and II.''
''Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid'' was the first movie I ever saw about friendship and adversity. Helped teach me to be a smart-aleck.
"Cool Hand Luke,'' another Paul Newman movie, about a Christ-figure petty criminal bringing hope to a chain gang.
And you have to have at least one over-the-top Al Pacino deal on your list. He makes a pretty persuasive Satan in ''Devil's Advocate.''

Music is even tougher than movies when it comes to the "must hear'' list.
Take Elvis, for example. Most people would go with the "Sun Sessions'' and the birth of everything. Me, I'd go with "The '68 Comeback Special'' to hear a man with everything on the line rolling the dice and redeeming his soul (at least for a little while) .
"Blood on the Tracks'' by Dylan. Although I insist that everybody listen to "Brownsville Girl'' from "Knocked Out Loaded'' at least once in their lives.
Put me down for "Nebraska'' by Springsteen. Harrowing tales of the damned and lost.
Willie Nelson's "Red Headed Stranger'' is a masterpiece and you cannot hear "Blue Eyes Crying in The Rain'' too often.
Paul Simon's "Graceland'' makes you happy no matter what.

There are places I'd like to go: The Holy Land, Paris, etc. But then I think of Mark Twain's "Diary of Adam'' wherein the first man, mourning the loss of Eve, writes, "Wherever she was, there was Eden.'' Where we travel isn't nearly as important as who comes along for the ride.

What are your Top 5 movies, destinations, albums?

There are all these books on the market these days, thick tomes with titles like ''1000 Movies You Must See Before You Die'' and ''1000 Travel Destinations You Must Visit Before You Kick the Bucket'' and ''Eight Bazilion Tunes You Must Hear Before the Fat Lady Sings.''

And my response to this has to be ''NOW you tell me???''

I'm 47 years old and the chances that I'm going to get to see the architecture of northeastern India or obscure black and white French horror films, or to listen to meandering jazz doodlings are slim. I mean even if I watched the movies while listening to the tunes in flight to some far-flung corner of the world, I just haven't got the time before the fat lady sings, you know?

And what's the penalty if I don't cross it all off my list before I hear a chorus of angels. Is St. Peter going to stand at the gates of heaven with a clipboard saying, ''Sorry, Mike. You don't go anywhere, watched too many Hollywood flicks, and spent way too much of your brief time on earth listening to alternate takes of 'Born To Run.' Heaven's not for slackers, pal.''

What I need is a little help. Let's whittle it down. What are the Top 5 movies, places, and albums I ought to experience before I shuffle off this mortal coil?

And keep in mind that I've already seen ''Porky's.''

Thank you.

Easier than falling off a log?

I saw the cover of a recent TV Guide and there was a blurb on the cover that filled my heart with such gratitude, my eyes welled up and I nearly dropped to my knees to give thanks.
''Making TV Easy'' screamed the blurb and I thought "Thank God for TV Guide!''
Because, frankly, TV was getting very difficult what with the turning it on and the changing of the channels and all. Thank the Lord somebody's easing the burdens of our lives.
Assuming that the demand to make television easier is not one of the signs of the apocalyse and the end is not nigh, what sorts of things do you think ought to be made easier in this world?

Religious craziness not all Muslim

The First Amendment is pretty much absolute when it comes to protecting the right to say any stupid you thing you want. But I might be willing to make an exception in the case of the Reverend Pat Robertson, who really should shut the heck up.
Just when we get over him advocating the assassination of the Venezuelan president, he decides that Ariel Sharon's massive stroke was caused by the hand of God, a theological viewpoint that has been pretty much discredited since the days when Job sat around in sackcloth and ashes. Of course, most of us just catch wind of this craziness when it hits the news, but he comes up with stuff like this all the time. Catch him on "The 700 Club'' sometime. He's a dangerous goofball. I watched him read from a yellow legal pad a transcription of a message that God had personally dictated to him.
Heads up: there are going to be a few earthquakes in 2006.

Vacation Dolorosa

I recently overheard two couples talk about their respective trips to Italy. Here are, no lie, some of the things they said:
"We went to the, whadayacallit, the catacombs.''
"I kept wanting to call them the caverns.''
"The Coliseum is just ruins, you know.''
"That's why we went to the modern part of Rome, with restaurants and stuff.''
Honest to goodness, some people should not be allowed to travel abroad. Just take their passports away, for Pete's sake and let them go to that whadayacallit, Grand Canyon instead.

Shooting a guy vs. adultery

Callers to conservative talk radio in the days following Dick Cheney's mistaking a friend for a game bird are genuinely wondering what all the fuss is about.
"Hunters accidentlally shoot each other all the time,'' they say. "No big deal.''
These are the same folks who were shocked, simply shocked that a married guy who happens to be President had an affair at the office.
Now I don't have the figures in front of me, but I'd be willing to bet more guys are cheating on their wives at work than there are guys spraying birdshot into a buddy.

Stupid Research

Scientists in Great Britain are studying why stupid people die young.
The report I read doesn't give the ages of the researchers, but I'm betting they are not going to reach their Golden Years intact.
I mean, is there some unfathomable mystery here?
Maybe a little bit of one. Smarter people tend to live longer even when you factor in such variables as smoking, education and occupation.
Yet it seems blindingly obvious that the more intelligent tend to live longer. The same researchers have found that mortality and reaction time are positively correlated.
Which means you live longer if you duck when somebody yells "Duck!''
Duh!