We need a king of the road to recovery

Mar 17, 2010
By Gale Hammond


All this bickering back and forth in Congress is getting us nowhere. So I've been thinking about what could be done to get our government over this little "speed bump" of inter-party squabbling that has everything so mired down in Washington. And I've figured out the solution: we need a king.

Now before you rush off to your laptops to send me scathing letters about freedom and Democracy, let me assure you that I'm not suggesting we do away with Democracy. Oh, no. We just need somebody to oversee it a bit. Somebody like, you know, a king. We can still have Congress and the President and the "Supremes" in their black robes - not to mention our right to keep and bear arms and possibly even legs - and U.S. citizens will maintain their constitutional right to spill hot coffee on themselves in order to obtain high-priced attorneys to sue everybody that said scalded citizen can think of.

But first there is the matter of selecting a king, and it should be somebody with a household name such as "Tide." But that is ridiculous. Anyone with half a brain knows that a laundry detergent can hold no higher office than member of the House of Representatives. So in order to pick a recognizable, and therefore "good" king we will have to select this person from the world of "entertainment."

At this point you've probably decided to pick Oprah as our king, but since Oprah would technically come under the category of "queen," we will have to let Oprah slide on this one - although she would retain her constitutional right to randomly haul the proclaimed king off his throne and harshly interview him on her show except she is going to retire soon, and I don't know what we're going to do about that.

Therefore, we could have no finer king of the United States than Jay Leno. Or possibly David Letterman. I mean, come on. One of them (I've forgotten which) is already "King of Late Night." Or possibly that was Johnny Carson. And since Johnny is, unfortunately, still deceased, we'll have to go with Jay or Dave. Maybe they could be co-kings. Whatever.

So the king of the United States will keep an eye on government and apply stern punishment for severe infractions such as "not getting along with your neighbor." If fighting across the aisle holds up important legislation such as the move to allow states to only elect representatives with the last name of "McGillicuddy," King Jay-Dave will immediately remove the troublemakers from the premises and give them a mandatory "time out" in the stocks. Yes, the stocks, and don't get me started on the guillotine.

And what about all of this unseemly behavior on the part of our elected officials? I mean, excuse me for being picky, but "groping?" The king would command any groper guilty of "groping" an individual to mud wrestle a few rounds with Borat of Kazakhstan. Wouldn't it be thrilling to see Mark "I'm Hiking the Appalachian Trail" Sanford in one of those trendy neon-colored slingshot-like thongs in the ring with the randy hero of Kazakhstan? And if that's not a deterrent to those philandering politicos, I don't know what is.

As long as we're thinking outside the box, we could solve some of our global issues, too. For example, upon taking office, er ... kingship, King Jay-Dave would end fighting in the Middle East by removing all of the "good" people in Iraq or Iran or wherever. All the citizens of those countries would be required to fill out a form indicating whether or not they are "good" people that promise not to fight over things such as whose country produces the most colorful rugs. At this point, all of the "good" people from those countries would be transported to parts of the U.S. that we aren't using at the moment such as wide stretches of Utah and North Dakota.

Then all of our troops would come home, and instead of fighting the "bad" guys in Afghanistan and wherever, the troops would build roads and houses for the "good" people who would now live in those parts of the U.S. that we aren't currently using. This leaves the "bad" guys way back over in the desert to fend for themselves while King Jay-Dave rounds up numerous local "bad" guys such as gang members and tax cheats. And definitely "spam" senders. All those reprobates and lowlifes would then be given a one-way ticket to go fight the "bad" guys in the Middle East.

Now I have a ton of other good ideas that will fix up government but I can see you're having a little trouble breathing. So I'll just, you know, leave you to do some deep inhalation for awhile.

The Year of Getting in Shape

Mar 2, 2010
By Gale Hammond



Are you as sad as I am that the Winter Olympics are over? And yes, the closing ceremonies were stunning, but what I will miss most are those athletes: human perfections of mind and body working in spectacular harmonization. It was a moment to witness the perfect concert of athletic excellence. A moment to be uplifted by such dedication of purpose. A moment to ponder the pure commitment of an Olympian. A moment to movingly reflect, "Good grief! I am a physical wreck!"

And so it was that I, in my (ahem) advancing maturity, declared it time to pummel my physique back into shape. The attempt would be Olympian.

Now don't think I haven't tried diets - lots of them. And most of them work, except they work better on other people. Because I have a stubborn streak in me that says, "What? Not eat that piece of pie? Well, I don't THINK so!"

Even those diets that don't parade about as diets failed. Let's not call it a "diet," the theory goes; let's call it a "healthy lifestyle." By all means, fool my brain into thinking I love carrots and cardboard cereal. Sure. A "healthy lifestyle" sounds really great and outdoorsy, right? I mean, who wouldn't want to be healthy and natural and outdoorsy? Well, that would be me after a week of bulgur and sprouts when to avoid the Ben & Jerry's I must do everything humanly possible short of tying myself to a fencepost.

So this year I'm taking a different approach. Instead of a diet or, um ... "healthy lifestyle," I'm "cutting back a tad." Building in some whole grains, fresh veggies, lean proteins. That sort of stuff. Learning to love fruit as dessert. With maybe just the teeniest smidgeon of something yummy on top.

Now if you live on Planet Earth (or if you've seen even one episode of "The Biggest Loser"), you know that physical activity is the key to weight loss, right? So the next step is choosing the style of physical activity that's best for you (and by "you," of course I mean "me"). Something doable. Enjoyable, even. Tragically, pedicures probably don't qualify as physical activity, so investing in a gym membership is the smarter option. And you'd think with the number of gym memberships I've invested in, I'd be a mere wisp. Well, you'd think.

The problem with gym memberships is that you actually have to GO to the gym and once you're there, you must then "work out." Unfortunately, the physical activity known as "Paying your Membership Fee" doesn't by magical osmosis turn you into Body Beautiful. That's right, friends; working out involves, well ... sweat. And I just don't do sweat anymore. That "advancing maturity" thing, you know.

Finally I discovered a better alternative: water. I love water. I revel in the weightlessness of gliding through water chlorinated enough to take a natural redhead to strawberry blonde. And whatever chlorine does (and it's not something I want to think too much about), it is tolerable. What isn't tolerable is the thought of a (gulp) swimsuit. As in wearing one. In public.

The fact that I'm beyond wearing a bikini doesn't mean I shouldn't venture into a swimming pool again though, does it? And crossing state lines before appearing in anything less than a full-body wetsuit is tempting but, you know, there's the price of gas and all.

So I bit the bullet and signed up for a water aerobics class that requires, yes, a swimsuit. And ya know? This might just work seeing as how water doesn't involve sweating or lacing up my tennis shoes, which these days is a workout in itself.

Upon joining my fellow swimmer-exercisers in the pool, I soon realize all that flexing of muscles underwater is a good thing. "Feel it in your core!" calls our aerobics teacher energetically. Ah, yes, my "core," wondering where that might have strayed to, um ... let's see ...

"What if you can't find your core?" shouts a male voice from the rear. Exactly.

And float? Oh, boy, do I float! I am definitely gold medal material in floating. "If you can, let your feet come up off the bottom for this one," instructs our teacher encouragingly. If I can? You bet I can! I can float like this all day. See? I'm floating now, no problem, since ... oh, dear Lord, my rear end is its own floatation device.

Finally it's time for the water aerobics barbells. These barbells are light as a feather. Wow! This is so easy. Except ... whoa! Pushing Styrofoam barbells under water takes muscle. "Olympian" muscle, perhaps. And should those babies ever get loose underwater, let's just say you'd hear an unsafe "SPROING" that could launch me straight up into the rafters. Well. I'll bet that's something you don't see every day at the Olympics.