Let's Waltz for a Spell!

I'm publicly rebuking (yes, rebuking) my online Spell Check for failing to identify the correct spelling for "waltz" after I supplied it with the "w," "a" and "l."

Seriously Spell Check (if that's your real name), I give you w-a-l-s-e in the hopes of a spelling for "waltz" and you come back to me with "whales," "walls" and "wiles" but no "waltz"? I'm disenchanted with you Spell Check. D-I-S-E-N-C-H-A-N-T-E-D.

Arm Yourself to Douse Out Stress

As we make our way through life's journey, everyone has their way of handling stress. Exercise. Meditation. Playing with a pet. I personally like to pump up my air mattress, lie in front of the TV with The Weather Channel on and squirt myself with a spray bottle every time I hear the words "scattered showers."

The real secret to managing stress is to cultivate a state of mind that prevents bothersome people and situations from rattling your nerves. It all comes down to learning what's in our power to control and what is not. Here's a handy checklist I've devised to sidestep confusion:

1) Things Under Our Control: Ourselves.
2) Things Not In Our Control: The World and All the People In It.

There. I hope this enlightened philosophy helps you adapt to stress more efficiently and find lasting happiness and peace-of-mind in turbulent times. (If not, squirting yourself with water while watching The Weather Channel can do wonders for your frazzled psyche.)

Toolbox, Bloody Toolbox

My toolbox is a sad symbol of my limitations as a handyman. It contains a hammer, nine different sizes of the same screwdriver, some bent nails left over from hard-knock picture hangings, plus a lifetime supply of miscellaneous scraps of junk such as wire, twine, assorted washers and two-way tape.

Not only am I ill-equipped to put my toolbox items to practical use, I have actually had the shameful bad luck of injuring myself while reaching into the toolbox to get something out. Now, we all have our levels of mechanical aptitude, but I think it fair to say that it takes a special talent to draw blood while rummaging around for something in the bottom of your tool case.

If I've learned anything from my home repair experiences, it's that once you're bleeding, the project tends to go sharply downhill from there.

Leno/McCartney

I'm working day and night to put together the Leno/McCartney reunion concert.

I just can't shake the feeling that something is off track with the whole concept. 

The Lady of the House

The phone rang the other night and when I picked it up a telemarketer greeted me by asking "Is the lady of the house available?"

The lady of the house? 

Me: "Well, she's kind of busy right now making a pot roast, topping off my highball and asking me how my day was at work selling phonographs and toaster ovens."

Him: "When would be a good time to call back?"

Me: "How about 1959?"

Bye, Bye Brenda?

Whatever happened to all the girls named Brenda? Twenty years ago there were thousands of them around. Now there's almost none. I challenge all the mothers-to-be to do their part. Let's give the world "A Few Brave Brendas" and put an end to the global Brenda shortage.

The End of Pesky Oil Leaks

As several strategies to stop the catastrophic Gulf oil spill have come up short, a report circulated last week that BP was considering using a nuclear bomb to seal the hole a mile beneath the ocean's surface. Desperate times call for desperate messages I suppose, but a nuclear bomb?

I pictured bringing my car in to the mechanic to fix an oil leak. "Don't you worry, Mr. Williamson. What we're going to do is set off a nuclear bomb in your car. We could tinker around with other repair methods, but that's the quickest way to knock out that leak for you. And it comes with a 90-day warranty."