Economics and the mid-life crisis have much in common: Both dwell on foregone opportunities

C'est la vie; c'est la guerre; c'est la pomme de terre . . . . . . . . . . . . . email: jpalmer at uwo dot ca

. . . . . . . . . . .Richard Posner should be awarded the next Nobel Prize in Economics . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sunday, August 28, 2005

Do Not Let These People Near Heavy Machinery

The other day, Ms. Eclectic and I were preparing for a long-ish hike on one of the trails in our area. We dug out a small old pack that we used to carry that had maps, supplies, an extra sweater, a place for water, etc.

As we were cleaning it out, we came across a black thing with a red button on it. At first we couldn't remember what it was. Then it occurred to one of us that it was something to ward off vicious stray dogs or animals or mashers. But we honestly could not remember what it was.

So, smart guy that I am [after all, I do have a PhD], I said,

"Plug your ears, and I'll see if it still works."

So I pushed on the little red button. It didn't make a loud noise at all. Instead, it emitted a fine spray with some force toward one of the kitchen cabinets [yes, we did this indoors! You can see just how smart we really are....]. And then....

Nothing happened. We realized this was supposed to be some sort of noxious spray, not a loud horn, but I guess we both thought it had lost its oomph. So then Ms. Eclectic [who is also pretty smart and also has a PhD] leaned over into the mist left from the spray and sniffed.

She gagged a bit. We realized the spray was mace or pepper or something noxious. Then it hit both of us. With a vengeance.

Coughing, choking, nausea, dripping mucous, you get the idea. What the heck is that stuff??

Damned short-term memory!

Later, a friend stopped by for a quick visit and wondered why we were sitting on the front veranda.
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