Irony and Other Misfeatures of Reality

For Example

I have been notified* that my posture isn't the best. Rather than "standing up straight" as I am perfectly capable of doing without physiological stress, I have developed the habit of leaning somewhat forward and looking down when I'm walking.

Q: I suppose you're going to blame it, like your missing homework, on the dog?
A: How did you know?

Yes, I blame it on the dog, Winston the Puppy. He, while not exactly a "small dog," sports his 20 pounds in unjustifiable security, while I, a.k.a. Bigfoot, perforce must provide his survival instinct and obey the Prime Directive: "Don't crush the puppy." As of this writing, Puppy remains uncrushed. And I, sadly, am insufficiently vertical.

For Another Example (and a Half)

	Is New Balance advocating Russian victory? Only if one is standing on his toes. And what about poor Hewlett-Packard at the NAB show?
For the half that won't consider the following item ironic at all, trust me, the other half will.
Without making (or intending) any political commentary whatsoever, it is a simple fact that different states treat gun ownership differently. For example, New York and New Jersey, where I spent much of my life before moving West, make it almost impossible for an ordinary citizen without a special need to carry a gun. Here in Arizona, and in many western states, the right to do so is enshrined in the state's constitution. You can not only carry a gun, you don't even need a permit. (You can get one if you choose, with a bit of bureaucracy.)		So the fact that a gun is being raffled in Arizona shouldn't be much of a surprise. It might be slightly surprising to find it associated with a golf tournament, but the irony (again, to some,) will be apparent by clicking the image.

Finally, and Somewhat Obscurely...

I give you the Limeliters! (Or, if you're not the old folkie that I am, I give you the band that in its time was almost as famous as The Kingston Trio. Or if you're neither old nor a folkie, know that they were a famous trio of folksingers in the late '50s to the mid-'60s.) During their initial active period, they issued a number of albums, the first of which included the song Zhankoye**, with proto-hippie lyrics in Yiddish and English, part of which I quote below:

When you go to Sevastopol, on your way to Simferopol
Just you go a little further down
There's a little railway station known to men throughout the nation
Called Djankoye, Djan, djan, Djan

Work together all as brothers Jew and Gentile, White and Negro
For a better world to come
In this world, a world that's good, man will find some brotherhood
In Djankoye, Djan, djan,djan

Contemporaneously with my writing this blog, there's a war going on in Ukraine. This small item appeared in the Wall Street Journal a few days ago: "Kyiv has attacked several high-profile targets in Crimea in recent months, striking a major Russian air base in Saky and a railway junction near the town of Djhankoy." Pete Seeger and all the Limeliters would be disappointed if any of them remained extant.

(Brief) "Return to Italy in Due Course"

I don't consider myself either an experienced traveler or tourist. Neither am I a keen observer, and often miss obvious features that are later called to my attention with some incredulity of the "How could you not notice?" persuasion. And yet...

Due to my unaccountable (and irritating to many) compulsion to proofread*** I often see things others miss. For example, when I inquired of Carol the Tour Guide as to why the name "Michele Ferrero" appeared on so many official road signs in the Alba region, she not only couldn't answer, but wasn't aware of them. Yet I, a total Italy novice, looking out a bus window, kept marveling at the proliferation of this non-geographical excrescence. I have to assume that the signs were somehow sponsored by Ferrero, the third-largest chocolate company in the world, to enhance their notoriety. Pretty creative advertising placement!

Are We Done with Italy? Hardly!

* Many times, and with lamentable accuracy
** Apparently it was written by Pete Seeger, but I never heard that version and I loved the Limeliters.
*** Some day I shall commit a blog on "Gratuitous Apostrophes I have Encountered."

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