"Perhaps of all the creations of man, language is the most astonishing." (Lytton Strachey)

While I was sitting in the dentist's chair at the V.A. yesterday, Diane, the hygienist said she had asked her mother what was the most helpful thing she could remember in the 20th Century and the answer her mother gave her was "hot water". A strange answer, to be sure, but fully understandable if you think about it. It reminded me of my choice of the light bulb as the "Greatest Invention in the History of the World." Since that blog, I've thought some more about it and decided that I was wrong. The greatest invention was right in front of my eyes...rather in front of my ears. And the answer is "language". Two questions came to mind: How did this language instinct in humans originate? And how did the first language come into being? But, for sure, it was invented!

My Doctorate major was "comparative linguistics". So, I know something about the subject of language. Concerning the origin of the first language, there are two main hypotheses, or beliefs. Neither can be proven or disproved given present knowledge.
1) Belief in divine creation: Many societies throughout history believed that language is the gift of the gods to humans. The most familiar is found in Genesis 2:20, which tells us that Adam gave names to all living creatures. This belief predicates that humans were created from the start with an innate capacity to use language. It can't be proven that language is as old as humans, but it is definitely true that language and human society are inseparable. Wherever humans exist language exists. Every stone age tribe ever encountered has a language equal to English, Latin, or Greek.

2) Natural evolution hypothesis: At some point in our evolutionary development humans acquired a more sophisticated brain which made language invention and learning possible. In other words, at some point in time humans developed a language acquisition device. This is not unusual. At some point in time as the human brain became more and more sophisticated, we developed a wheel device, a printing device, a TV device, an internet device, and so on.

Invention hypotheses: Moving on to our second question, if humans acquired the capacity for language either by divine gift or by evolution, then exactly how might humans have devised the first language? There are several hypotheses as to how language might have been consciously invented by humans. Each hypothesis is predicated on the idea that the invention of language and its gradual refinement served as a continuous impetus to additional human mental development. None of the invention hypotheses is convincing and most sane linguists agree that the origin of language is still a mystery. Even so, I am now going to stick to my contention that Language is the greatest human invention, and I don't care what the super delegates might say. Also, if this blog is a little academic, I'm sorry, but I can't keep writing about food, restaurants, luncheons, doctors, shows, aches and pains, etc. At some point I have to cater to Mensa.



Speaking of doctors, aches, and pains, I thought it might be of some interest to my readers to see a picture of my scooter.

"I will make an end to my dinner; there's pippins and cheese to follow." (Merry Wives)

I watched the debate between Hillary and Barack last night and was impressed by the ability of the two candidates to respond to difficult, often embarrassing questions with candor and intelligence. Both of them were under extreme pressure knowing that millions of people were watching and evaluating every move and every sentence as well as their body language. I believe that either one of them will serve with distinction as the president of this country, and it is too bad that one of them has to lose. Say, why not serve as "Co-Presidents"? I mean, Rhoda is a co-president of the City of Hope. Just think--two Presidents--one a female and one a black. What would historians have to say about that? Well, it ain't goin' to happen. As far as McCain is concerned, he would be the oldest president ever. Yes, Reagan was older at the end of his administration--but he also had the beginnings of Alzheimers. McCain may not think so, but the pressures he would subject to as President might very well bring on symptons of PTSD. He did have a traumatizing experience as a POW. I'm not a psychologist, but I do know how pressures in civilian life can open the gateways to flashbacks of prior life wartime traumas. Obama would no doubt bring a breath of fresh young air to the Oval Office. So there. You have my opinions. For posterity.

Now to change the political dialogue and on to more mundane things such as what's for dinner. Tonight, Rhoda announced, we are having frankfurters, beans, and potato salad. This happens to be on the top five of my list of favorite foods.
Whenever I eat a hot dog I'm reminded of my teenage days on Kelly Street in the Bronx back in the late '30s. Every Saturday night we went to the corner deli and I had six hot dogs with mustard and a topping of potato salad along with a Mission Orange soda. What a treat! And once in a while I would get to Coney Island and find my way to Nathan's where not only could you get the best 5 cent hot dogs in the world, but also Chow Mein on a bun. MMMmmmmmm. Those days and those prices are now gone--forever.

Let's see, now--what are my top five favorite foods? In no particular order: Hot dogs...Lobster...Spaghetti and Meatballs...Florida Stone Crabs...and Shrimp Chow Mein. And yours?

"Like a dull actor now, I have forgot my part." (Coriolanus)

So, if you didn't file your tax return yesterday, perhaps if you sneak it into the mailbox today no one will notice it when it gets to the IRS. Especially if it goes to some IRS office in Florida where doing things wrong is a worker's right. Perhaps it's written in the Florida constitution or in the Katuba if the agent is in the tribe. The other day we bought a Block and Decker toaster oven in Walmart, took it home, and burned whatever we put into it. So we returned it for our refund. This is not an unusual occurrence with a purchased appliance. My advice to anyone planning to buy an appliance in Florida is to purchase it, bring it home, don't open it, and then bring it back for your refund the next day. Then go somewhere else for your appliance...I mean...like to Georgia.

I must have caught the do-it-wrong bug from one of my elderly friends because I mistakenly got onto Rhoda's Gmail...somehow...and then somehow deleted everything in her inbox that she was saving. She's a great saver. I just assumed that all the email I saw belonged to me and if it looked strange, I killed it. When Rho subsequently went to her Gmail and found nothing in her inbox, she had a "hissy fit"...not unusual, but under the circumstances, fully understandable. Once I realized what I had done, I was overcome with "mea maxima culpa"--my most grievous fault. (But, read my "Memoirs" for my "Apologia pro Vita Sua".) As a result of that e-mail disaster, Rhoda claimed that I had a PTSD "episode". She said I woke at about 2am and shouted that my plane was on fire, and that I was the only one who could reach the extinguisher because I was in the aft turret. Rho flew out of bed, without a ticket, and put a stop to my errant flashback. She also claimed that I said I wanted to kill myself to be with my buddies. However, she wouldn't allow that, either. She's stubborn in these matters. Besides, I think perhaps she dreamed all of this up, herself.

This is the 188th blog that I've written, which when I think about it, I don't know really how I've done that. Anyway, the journal serves as a "sequel" to my "Memoirs of a Tail Gunner". I believe Retirement is my "7th Life" and may very well be the longest one. Just today, my neighbor Lou sent me an email describing the "Circle of Life" and the subject was "What is Success?" At 3 success means not having to crap in your pants; at 12, success means having friends; at 18, success means having a driver's license; at 20, success means having sex; at 35, success means having money; at 50, success means having money; at 60, success means having sex; at 70 success means having a driver's license; at 80, success means not having to crap in your pants.

"Beowulf" the Film

I have a new auto insurance company--Met Life--because Geico, whose ads on TV with that big Australian lizard are getting annoying, quoted me a new premium which was twice as much as Met Life. And to think I was with Geico since 1945. I think someone goofed, as is usual these days, but I didn't want to spend an hour on the phone before I got a humanoid to talk to me. Goofing occurs when goofies in the workplace are spending too much time socializing rather than paying attention to what they are doing...or what they must do. The cardiologist's office goofed also; we asked them to fax a prescription to Medco (our plan pharmacy) for medication requiring 2mg. Instead we got a bottle in the mail with the medication at 5mg. and Rhoda exploded into a 1000 tiny Rhodas with humongous irritation--no, not "irritation"--rather, fury. And when RH+ gets furious, and you're nearby, you better climb into the nearest foxhole. The meds cost us $55 and we cannot recover that. And so she went to the cardiology office personally to get the goofer to send the correct prescription to Medco. We're waiting.

Yesterday, I picked up the movie, "Beowulf" at Publix where there's a machine for renting a film for a dollar. Now, I taught "Beowulf" for about 30 years, and I was anxious to see how they could make a film of that epic piece of English literature. I was anxious to see how King Hrothgar and the warriors in the Mead Hall would fare against Grendel, the monster. Sure enough Grendel devoured half of them in the Mother of All Monster Dining. But then Beowulf came to the rescue and killed Grendel in a battle that would do well on TV like the new wrestling game that has two guys or more maiming each other in a cage. But then, of course, Grendel's mother emerged wrathfully and fully nude from the swamp she lived in. She was played by Angela Jolie who offered herself to Beowulf who confronted her and the rest is indeed, epic. However, the book is better then the movie which at times was completely silly--more like a cartoon than a realistic portrayal of a great hero. Oh well, I know that there are hundreds of my former students out there who will remember me when they opt to see that film, and many of them will see it because of me. It pleases me to think of it that way.

"The web of our life is but a mingled yarn, good and ill together..." (All's Well That Ends Well)

Zzzzzzz! I didn't get out of bed today until 12:08pm. I felt I could have slept even a couple of more hours, but I was embarrassed...not at anyone in particular...just myself. Every peer I speak to complains about not being able to sleep; about getting up at 6am or 7am. I wonder what they do all day long...for very long days. Me? When I finish washing, brushing, combing, shaving, etc. I sit on my very own kitchen chair and inhale my "puffer". I'm not sure what it's supposed to do, so every once in awhile I ask Rhoda. Then I take about 7 different colored pills with half a 5oz. cup of apple juice. I haven't a clue about each one of them individually or collectively, but I figure they must be for some ailment or other that I may be suffering from. I then go directly to the sports page to see what's going on in the world of millionaires and expecting to see that they are earning their wages. (Fat chance of that happening.) Next, I check to see the price of gold...not that I have privileges at Ft. Knox, but just to see the price of gold as a matter of interest. After all of this, it's pretty close to 1pm, and so I get on the computer and check my email...once I see that I have some mail from people I don't like who purposefully forward inane stuff without deleting the dozens of email addresses and requiring that I scroll down forever to the message, I just delete them at once hoping they go to a fiery demise in cyberland.

Then I sit down for breakfast. It's now about 1:30pm. And I'm all prepped up for the rest of an exciting day at home waiting for Rhoda to return from her aerobics, bowling, shopping, errands, COH meetings, or luncheons with the girls. By this time I will have written my blog, copied and pasted it to a word doc. which will eventually become Vol.II of my book "Pater Noster in Condoland" which will continue my reign as the world's most famous unknown author. Lunch, you say? What lunch? I've just had breakfast. Finally, Rho comes in with the mail at about 4:30pm and I breathlessly ask her "What's for dinner?" (I say "breathlessly" because of all the strenuous activity I've had in the house.) Her answer to my question is inevitably, "Oh, I haven't anything in the fridge." Or, "I forgot to defrost the chicken." Or, "I'm too tired to cook." All of which answers are hints that we are not eating at home that night. And after being married to that darling after 25 years, I can take a hint. Now, after reading this blog, you can conclude that Rho and I are having great fun in retirement.