Narwhals

     Have you seen the Sprint commercial, the one featuring narwhals?




     I thought this narwhal thing was from a Sponge Bob cartoon.  Boy, was I wrong.  Narwhals exist.  They live in northern waters near Greenland and Russia.  They are classified as a "Near Threatened" species, but Inuits are allowed to hunt them for meat and ivory.  The most interesting thing about narwhals might be that their skin is loaded with vitamin C.  I think I would rather eat an orange.
     You can read more about narwhals here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Narwhal
   
     Here's the full cartoon music video that was part of the Sprint commercial.

"Jake, from State Farm"

     You've seen the commercials.  The husband is in a dark room, in the middle of the night, speaking to someone on the phone.  The wife storms downstairs and grabs the phone because she thinks hubby is talking dirty to someone at a 900 area code.  This woman won't be convinced that her husband is really on the line with a State Farm claims representative named Jake.
     The other day I had a problem figuring out how to play an audio book on my Kindle.  I tapped the "Mayday" button and began a conversation with a nice, young man who did his best to solve my problem.  As I waited on hold for the solution, Mike walked in and asked, "Who's that you're talking to?"
     "It's the Mayday-Help-Guy," I answered.
     "Well, he sounds hideous," Mike huffed, and he turned on his heel and left.
     It was difficult to keep it together when the fellow got back to me.

     I finally have to hang of borrowing audio books from the library.  It's nice to listen to books as I fix meals, or sew, or climb mountains on the tread mill at the gym.  Here are the mini reviews of my latest "reads" (I should say "my latest listenings").

What a Difference a Dog Makes by Dana Jennings - It's a collection of all the charming things the Jennings family dog does and a testimonial to how much this dog helped when the author was treated for cancer.

Mennonite in a Little Black Dress by Rhoda Jennings - Ms. Jennings writes with humor about her Mennonite upbringing, her marriage to a bi-sexual man who left her for his gay lover, and her understanding family to which she turned for support after her divorce.

The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind by William Kamkwamba and Bryan Mealer - William Kamkwamba, a boy growing up in Malawi, was so inspired by a book he read about windmills that he built a windmill out of scrap metal and tractor and bicycle parts.  His windmill brought electricity to his home, irrigation to his father's crops, and enough attention that William was able to get an education.  He didn't change the world, but he changed his world.

Why My Third Husband Will Be a Dog by Lisa Scottoline - This book is a collection of articles that Ms Scottoline wrote for her Philadelphia Inquirer column, "Chick Wit."

The Accountant's Story: Inside the Violent World of the Medellín Cartel by Roberto Escobar and David Fisher - Roberto Escobar was the accountant for his brother, the infamous drug lord Pablo Escobar.  He paints his brother as a nice guy who did a lot of good with his drug money. He says Pablo was beloved by his family and the people of Medellín.  It wasn't a problem for Roberto that 26-year-old Pablo married a 15-year-old, or that a 40-year-old Pablo had a thing for an underage cousin.  Roberto makes all night parties with whores sound like college mixers. Roberto doesn't see anything odd in the fact that Pablo wore a brand new shirt every time he changed his clothes, donating the worn-only-once-shirt to charity.  Pablo also brushed his teeth for at least 30 minutes.  I'm thinking there's a little psychological something going on there.  Pablo also wanted to be president of Columbia.  When that didn't work out, he dreamed of establishing his own nation in the Columbia jungle. Megalomania, anyone?  Of course, the murdering was the fault of the Cali Cartel and the president of Columbia. I'm going to reject the white washing and call a sociopath a sociopath.  

     If you haven't seen the State Farm commercial, here it is:
                     

Brand Loyalty

     My mother was a thrifty woman.  That's means she had no loyalty to name brands.  Store brands are just as good was her motto.  Mom was critical of the way her mother-in-law, my grandmother, catered to my young uncle, the last bird in the in-law nest.  Among other things, Uncle Bob wanted nothing but Wonder Bread used in the making of his sandwiches.  We had our peanut butter and jelly on a no name shingle.
     When I had to buy my own food, I appreciated the Mom's wise counsel.  Store brands offered significant savings.  Until I married Mike, I only had one mouth to feed, so I didn't have to be as frugal as my mother.  Still, I bought my food on sale, purchasing extra to hold in the freezer until the next sale cycle rolled around.  I treated myself to some name brands because they really tasted better to me, but not before I gave the store brands a try.  Most of the time the generics won with my taste buds.  I was also happy with anybody's laundry detergent and anybody's facial tissue.
     As I said, enter Mike, who, I swear, was born with a silver spoon (loaded with real Kellog's Corn Flakes) in his mouth.  Suddenly, name brands abounded in our refrigerator and pantry and linen closet.  Jif is the only peanut butter worth eating and Pop Secret is the only microwave popcorn worth popping according to Mike.  Cotton swabs must be Q-tips and not some CVS version of Q-tips.  Yet vodka is all the same.  Now, if I was any kind of a snob, I was a booze snob.  No more Absolut for me.  I can take the $1.39 I save there and apply it to the corn flakes.
     During the thirty years of singlehood between husbands, I swore I would never remarry unless doing so enhanced my existence.  Life with Mike is an upgrade from previously living with just a small pooch.  Mike is a most excellent dinner partner, he doesn't mind doing most of the driving, and he really likes to mow the lawn.  I Can't Believe It's Not Butter aside, Mike's most charming attachment is to the Beverly brand.  Each time he comes home with Canada Dry Diet Ginger Ale and Cheetos instead of cheese curls, I know my existence has been enhanced.