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Are my neighbors listening to my phone sex calls? I don’t suppose I will ever know the truth.

I know they could be. Living in a fairly new suburb of a fast growing city has created a perfect eavesdropping situation. The houses are only about 8 feet apart, the trees are still tiny, and the summers are hot. My windows are wide open at night, as I am sure everyone else’s are in this city. It would be reassuring if there were lots of street noises at night to drown out the moans, sighs and demands (I am Mistress Cassie, afterall), however after 10 pm it is dead silent in this neighborhood. Am I the only night owl here? I doubt it.

So, lets just say my lucky neighbors have plenty of opportunity to listen to some very naughty conversations.

“Martha, you’ll never guess what I heard last night!”

“Oh yeah, I hear it sometimes too… I think its someone’s cat”

“No Martha, its a woman. A woman aahh, she’s ahhh, well, it sounds like she is moaning!”

“Really? I am going to listen again tonight”

Maybe its not like that at all. Maybe its George out by the back fence, just listening and enjoying, not daring to move, afraid I’ll catch him, or worse, his wife Martha will catch him!

Well, we can’t have this kind of situation. I refuse to close the windows and melt away my summer nights. I really don’t intend to patrol the fence between the backyards. I am definitely not going to ask George if he is listening to my phone sex calls. Its my business, literally, and if its of any interest to anyone else, they should be paying $2.99 per minute like the rest of you.

Have you ever wondered if anyone ever overheard one of YOUR phone sex calls? It could happen. Here is my list of preventative measures.

• Close the windows
• Turn some music on (TV works too)
• Call from the bathroom, with the shower running (not a water conscious move)
• Call for phone sex from your car - be careful of the location!
• Use the Cone of Silence
• Invite the neighbors…maybe they will split the bill with you!

Instead trying to keep people you know from listening, you could also make your phone sex calls from a safe place like a hotel room. That way if you are overheard, it will be by strangers. Some people call from the office, although that opens another whole can of worms.

Another thought is to disguise the sounds. Some callers enjoy barking like dogs, being hypnotized into zombies, performing as sissy maids with high squeaky voices. Anyone listening to these types of conversations would be entertained, but likely would not recognize it was a phone sex call they were listening too.

Its all about being comfortable, both during and after the call. Some people LOVE the idea that someone IS listening. A little exposure just adds that last little bit of danger/excitement. If this is your ball of wax, then maybe sit close to the window, and really give your best performance.

As for me, I am going to continue on as I am now, windows wide open. If you happen to be in my neighborhood some night, listen closely. You might like what you hear.

Cassie Jones offers advice to phone sex operators, callers and fans alike. She has years of experience in the phone sex industry, manages her own company and employs Canadian phone sex operators. Phone Sex Mania was the first of many websites she uses to promote Canadian phone sex.

While many restaurant workers worry and sweat in anticipation of an imminent job-related performance review, employees at Applebee’s in Westland have adopted an entirely different attitude toward the employment evaluation process. This is due in no small part to the fact that the general manager, Lisa Blanco, rewards superior employee performance the old fashion way.

“We have the lowest turnover rate in the company,” said Blanco, beaming. “I’m proud of the fact that when I get an employee, I know how to keep that employee happy and productive.”

Blanco started this unusual practice with her subordinates about five years ago, shortly after being promoted to management and immediately after her first husband died. This particular motivational technique is, however, deeply ingrained in her nature, and has served her well in many other areas, and at many other times in her life.

“When I was a waitress with this, and other, companies,” said Blanco, “I loved my job, and I was continually looking for ways to increase my tips while making the customer happy. Hell, I remember understanding this philosophy way back in high school. I learned there had to be balance, it had to be a win/win situation for everybody…I’ve always had high values and integrity. I learned that to get what I want it only made sense that I needed to give the customer what he wants, and I knew I already gave above-average service. Now I needed to give above-average head.”

Blanco’s track record is excellent. Her store outperforms virtually every other Applebee’s in Michigan — and is consistently in the top-five out of all the Applebee’s in the country — in sales, service, customer satisfaction, product quality, penmanship and, for obvious reasons, employee satisfaction. In addition, her restaurant has maintained almost the exact same staff for the last three years, well beyond any previous company records.

“Yeah, it took me a couple of years to get to know my staff,” said Blanco, absently stroking an Applebee’s pen while gazing reflectively into the distance. “Working in a busy restaurant can be a high-pressure experience. We are a melting pot of diverse personalities, working under often stressful circumstances. You never know how someone is going to react.

“I learned their likes and dislikes, and what motivated them to the point that they’d willingly give me that something extra…that, whatever it is that comes out at that moment of truth when they’ve reached the point of maximum heightened activity. Is it hot in here?”

Not that her employees are complaining. Several suggested to the corporate office that Blanco’s philosophy be adopted company-wide, and because of those suggestions two senior corporate managers plan a visit to observe, and possibly make recommendations, later this month.

“It’s great timing,” said Larry Ward, who was brought over by Blanco after working with her at another restaurant. “I think most of us are up for review right around the time those big-wigs are supposed to be here. They get to see hands-on what gives us such a strong unit. Sure, we go against almost every modern axiom pertaining to manager/employee relations, but she took the single most important principle — keeping your employees happy — and she does it better than anyone else could ever dream.”

Said Ward, “While everyone else is looking outside the box, we’re all looking inside hers.”

After over 12 years as a waiter and bartender, Dennis Rymarz walked completely away from the business and launched Don’t Tip the Waiter, a one-of-a-kind satirical publication that reports fictional news and events from the restaurant industry.

Initially intended specifically for servers and bartenders, the publication is now read by a rapidly growing audience that includes just about anyone who goes out to eat.

Don’t Tip the Waiter is distributed free-of-charge to bars and restaurants in the Detroit area, and can be read on line at http://donttipthewaiter.com

Today there was a grand opening to the newest Wally World in the area so I figured what the hell and went to see what of course was yet another same old Wal-Mart. Of course since it was the first day there were people giving out free shit like ice cream, energy drink, and even beef jerky.That is freaking awesome man,free beef jerky is like getting a free blowjob on a hookers first day on the job.It’s really a cool thing to walk up and be able to eat beef jerky in the store without being called a thief.

Back to my story,there was a couple stands set up outside,but what I saw next to them almost made me want to go into Wal-Mart,buy a sledge hammer, and come out swinging it like a mad man. I saw a Diet Pepsi truck, but not just any old Diet Pepsi truck. This was a Jet Black truck with fucking spinners on it. Yes,fucking spinners on the pepsi truck. Not only that,but the truck had two huge sets of speakers on each side of it. They were all blasting shitty music through the whole parking lot. It was a really shitty moment for me.

This terrible moment in the parking lot leads people to believe they will be “Hip” and “Cool” by drinking Diet Pepsi. Hell P Diddy did the ad so it must be cool right? Let me level with you, P. Diddy drinks loads of alcohol and bangs hos all day, the only reason he did an ad for Diet Pepsi is because they paid the mother fucker enough. Not only that,but Diet Pepsi tastes like regular Pepsi, minus all of the flavor it has.

People will never get it,there’s no such thing as a diet cola that tastes just like the other stuff. If you want the good shit you’re just going to have to drink it and risk being a fat bitch the rest of your life. That and risk losing your teeth. So lets just face it,Diet Pepsi is not cool,it’s not good,and it damn sure won’t get you any action if a girl drinks too much of it.Is there any reason to even buy this shit?

About the Author

The Epic is owner and founder of a personal site called The Epic Zone at theepiczone.com

What’s So Real About Reality TV?
But some are “personal growth” shows
By David Leonhardt

Those people who defend the intrusive presence of a television in private homes always seem to cite “educational value” as its redeeming grace.

They mention the documentaries they watch all the time…which explains why The Feeding Habits of the Gray-haired Stork broke all Nielsen ratings records last month.

They mention the news programs they watch nightly…which explains why they have “intellectual” discussions about the chimp who drove a little car at the charity circus last week.

They mention all the arts programs, such as the symphony orchestra that played them to sleep last night.

Amazingly, they do not mention the latest phenomenon — “reality TV”. What is so real about reality TV? Put 20 people on an island and tell them to live off the land as if they were all on their own. Yeah, like that’s real!

But wait, there’s more. Make them vote somebody off the island each day, so that there are fewer people to help the community survive. Brilliant survival strategy.

Or set them up in teams to play “survival games”. That will leave them a lot of energy for survival. I’ll bet the tigers and hyenas and alligators salivate to see so much fresh meet wasting so much energy on such trivial activities. They could not have come up with a better meat-farming plan if they tried.

To make it even more real, all the participants are brought in front of the camera to comment on each other and deliver a psychological assessment of their experiences. Lights. Camera. Psychology. That’s real.

I suppose we would not want a reality TV show that was TOO real. Imagine turning on the TV and seeing real life.

“Hey, honey. Check out what’s on TV.”

“What is it, dear.”

“Somebody washing dishes.”

“What, again?”

“Yes.”

“Go on.”

“Don’t they ever wash their clothes?”

“NO, just dishes.”

“Well sooner or later they’ll have to wash their clothes. What does the TV guide say?”

People would probably rather watch other people marrying millionaires than have to face the fact that they could enjoy their own lives without having to marry one themselves.

In case you think I am down on all reality TV, there are some shows that actually are not that bad.

For example, American Idol, the biggest reality TV show of all. It was worth watching just to see Simon and Paula kiss and the new, invigorated half-of-Randy agreeing with Simon on almost everything this year.

For example, Canadian Idol, which 3.5 Canadians are aware of.

For example, Australian Idol, except for the Guy guy’s hairdo, which IS that bad.

Dr. Phil’s Ultimate Weight Loss Challenge is another reality show I like. He took real overweight people who wanted to change not just their bodies but their outlooks on life.

What did these two shows have in common? Both were competitions. Both involved trying to better oneself. Nobody had to vote each other off and they were all one team. Nobody was encouraged to hate. Nobody was encouraged to cheat. In fact, they supported each other emotionally. Imagine that on a desert island. Why, that would almost be real.

Dr. Phil and the Idol machine make sure that everybody walks away a winner. Of course, that’s no more real than packing men and women together in tight corners with little clothing and prodding them to cheat on their soon-to-be-exes back home. But it is more tasteful, and perhaps more “educational”.

But what is most real about these shows is that their real dreams were fulfilled and their real lives have changed as a result.

I have another name for all these new shows, the good and the bad alike, a name that fits them better than “reality TV”. I call them “game shows.”

What? That name’s been taken? Price Is Right? Truth Or Consequences? Wheel of Fortune?

Hmm. I suppose the new reality TV shows are almost as new as they are real. If people want reality, I suppose they could just turn off their TV sets. If they want new, they might just have to improvise.

About the Author

David Leonhardt publishes The Happy Guy humor column:
http://www.thehappyguy.com/positive-thinking-free-ezine.html
Read more humor articles:
http://www.thehappyguy.com/humor-articles.html
Or on personal growth and self-actualization
http://www.thehappyguy.com/self-actualization-articles.html
Get your liquid vitamin supplements:
http://www.vitamin-supplements-store.net

This story is Based on a gross exaggeration of a hypothetical situation. Any similarities to persons or events in your life is purely coincidental and rather pathetic.

We met at a party in an Upper East Side apartment. I was eating cheese, she was eating crackers. I offered her some of my cheese, she offered me some of her crackers, and pretty soon we were both eating cheese and crackers.

I gave her that stupid line “Do you come here often?” She said, “Yes, every day.” Shocked, I asked, “My god, is there a party here every day?” She said, “No, I live here.”

Feeling somewhat embarrassed that I was an uninvited guest, although “uninvitees” at singles parties are quite common, I said, “Your roommate invited me.” She said, “I live alone.” That didn’t make me feel any better.

But when she offered me another cracker, I felt safe.

As the party wore on, it became obvious that this was no ordinary girl. She greeted her guests with the warmth and enthusiasm usually seen only among married folks. For one terrifying moment I thought perhaps this was not a singles party, after all. But when I overheard a small group of people discussing how they had just come from two other parties, I knew I was at a singles gathering — married folks don’t go to three parties in one night. One couch is all they need.

I noticed the hostess carrying in a large tray of hors d’oeuvres with some difficulty. I rushed over and asked, “May I help?” She asked with a smile, “Eat or carry?” I answered with a chuckle, “Very funny, you don’t expect me to carry that thing.” We smiled and we chuckled.

After helping her place the tray on a table, I struck up a conversation. We found out we had a lot in common. She was from San Diego, I was from Brooklyn — but we both hated Des Moine. She was a zoologist, I was a computer consultant — but all her monkeys were trained to read “hexadecimal dumps.” She liked flying, I liked water sports — but we could have a great time in a life raft filled with helium. She liked classical music, I liked punk rock — but we could dye our hair green and listen to the Boston Symphony Orchestra. She liked long, lavish, gourmet meals - I liked breakfast in bed, lunch in bed, and supper in bed — but, if we got married, we could have a bed in the dining room and be together all day. I just can’t begin to tell you how much we had in common.

As we spoke, I complimented her on her rug. She said she didn’t have a rug — I was standing on her cat. I felt really stupid. Her cat felt a lot worse.

She asked if I could run into the kitchen and see if there was anymore soda in the fridge. I was afraid this would happen. I knew if I helped her with that tray, I might soon be running errands for her. But I had no choice. It was too late to go to another party.

Searching for the kitchen, I realized her apartment was a lot bigger than I had imagined. After circling through the dinette and study several times, I finally stopped to ask for directions. The guy who gave me directions, said he worked for the phone company and had been trying to find his way out of the apartment since he installed a phone in the kitchen. I said, I didn’t realize she had a new phone. He said, it wasn’t that new anymore — he installed it three weeks ago.

When I finally returned to the party room with two big bottles of Coke, all the guests had already left. She asked, “What took you so long?” I said, “I took the long route.” She asked, “Why?” I said, “I hate drilling through walls.” She asked, “What am I going to do with two big bottles of Coke now?” I said, “Well, if it’s a space problem, I can take them home with me.”

Needless to say, the situation was serious. Here we were with two big bottles of Coke and no guests to drink them. But, it’s these kind of grave predicaments which set my neurons, brain cells, and alpha waves into high gear. Promptly, as though requiring no thought whatsoever, I suggested, “Hey, why don’t we sit down and drink them up ourselves?” Her face lit up. But her grin worried me.

For the next hour and a half, I was “force-fed” two huge bottles of Coke. It was an unusual hour and a half, to say the least. I drank, she talked. Between gulps I had enough time to say, “I understand.”

As I swallowed the last few drops, dawn broke. With the rays of the morning sun filtering in through the shades, we exchanged phone numbers and I prepared to leave. She offered to make breakfast. But after a “Coke transfusion,” eggs hardly seemed appetizing. So, not to offend her, I said, “I’d love to, but I’m double parked.”

As we said good-by, we both knew we would be seeing a lot more of each other in coming months. And so we did. We had a long and meaningful relationship. Actually, it was long. I’m not sure what it meant. But I learned a lesson from all this: Coke can keep you awake all night.

Josh Greenberger: A computer consultant for over two decades, the author has developed software for such organizations as NASA’s Goddard Institute of Space Studies, AT&T, Charles Schwab, Bell Laboratories and Chase Manhattan Bank. Since 1984, the author’s literary works have appeared in such periodicals as The New York Post, The Daily News, The Village Voice, The Jewish Press, and others. His articles have ranged from humor to scientific to topical events. Visit his site: shopndrop.com

Some consideration must be made for the many memory inconsistencies of Thick Mick. He does his best!
——————————————————————————–
Mick here.
It was a long, long time ago. Sweden, North Europe, Scotland, Ireland, North America and Canada were part of the same mainland. This mainland existed before the crustal plates separated, and before the Atlantic came into being. To give you a reference point in history, my great grandfather was just a young man.

I remember with joy, the historical accounts he impressed on us, as we ate around a primitive butane barbeque. To clarify that, we sat around it eating, rather than eating the grass and sundry bushes around it.

Well, he told us with crystal clarity how he used to cycle from Canada to Sweden in five hours, with no more than one puncture repair kit, and a bicycle, presumably. He didn’t have to tell us every single detail!

The roads at the time, weren’t much like the motorways/highways of today. Instead of the quartz and limestone impregnated asphalt of today, they had a simple sandstone. Incidentally, this was readily available from Japan which was only a few hundred yards away, at the time. Punctures were common place and both courtship and commerce were reliant on a high performance repair kits.

On one particular day, I recall him saying, he went for a cycle to discover new continence continents, and ended up in Venezuela or something. Feeling peckish (understandable after an eight hour cycle against the wind ), he went into a burger joint. He often remarked “Burgers in Venezuela invariably have more grissle (cartilage, in English ) than venison in Boston (American, in America )”.

I’ll never forget his adventurous accounts of punctured rubber, mutilated beef, and Brazilian bicycle clips!

How would such an adventurer find time for my great grandmother to be, you might well ask? Well, she had a few bucks behind her, and some clever measures were needed to guarantee possession (old word for love ). Wait until you see the genius of this globetrotter/globepeddler, depending on air pressure status within the inner-tube.

In a bid to “mask” the stench of sweat (essential for long distance ), he used a “primitive talc” powder, or “de-odorant dust”. By inverting his bicycle and hand peddaling it, he was able to make dust out of any material by pressing it against the high-speed spokes. The material he chose was similar to what we know as conventional coal/graphite/carbon.

Hence, the term “CARBON DATING” was coined.

While a little messy, he invented a perfect product to “soak” the “SOUP of ADVENTURE”.
As with any back passage, more material will be forthcoming. Thanks for your understanding of times past, however trivial, Mick Savage.
adventure@thetrivialtimes.com

About the Author

Thick Mick is “an expert columnist” on historical matters, with The Trivial Times

1. What rock star worked as a gravedigger before starting his musical career?
A. Roy Orbison
B. Billy Joel
C. Mick Jaggar
D. Rod Stewart

1. What famous rock star worked as a gravedigger before starting his musical career?
D. Rod Stewart
TBD: That wasn’t The QuizQueen’s guess either, but that’s what the research says!

2. Which tradition was NOT a precursor to Halloween?
A. The Celtic tradition of giving thanks at the close of the harvest season?
B. The European tradition of lighting candles and masquerading in costume to scare evil spirits away.
C. The celebration of the birth of Marilyn Manson.
D. The Irish custom where wealthy landowners would give food to the poor in hopes that the ghosts would look favorably on them and spare them from mischief.

2. Which tradition was NOT a precursor to Halloween?
C. The celebration of the birth of Marilyn Manson.
TBD: Gosh The QuizQueen sure hopes you got that right. Although who knows what historians in the next Millenium will conclude after studying the effluvium we leave behind.

3. Which phobia is the fear of Halloween?
A. Caspariophobia
B. Samhainophobia
C. Demonophobia
D. Boophobia

3. Which phobia is the fear of Halloween?
B. Samhainophobia
TBD: Personally, The QuizQueen has always been more frightened of Caspar than Celts, but you can’t quibble with the facts.

4. Where does the name “Halloween” come from?
A. In Scotland, the Celtic Feast of the Sun, which marked the end of summer was known as “Hallowe’en.”
B. In Ireland, the Celtic Feast of the Sun, which marked the end of summer was known as “Hollow Eve.”
C. The Druids held a ritual on that night honoring the leader of their sect. His name was Hal Ween.
D. The Roman ceremony of burying a hollow casket to trap evil spirits beneath the ground.

4. Where does the name “Halloween” come from?
A. In Scotland, the Celtic Feast of the Sun, which marked the end of summer was known as “Hallowe’en.”
TBD: The QuizQueen really hopes you didn’t answer “C” here.

5. What is the purpose of a witch’s familiar?
A. Hey, everybody has to have a friend, even Broomhilda.
B. The stooge she sends out to lure innocent victims to her lair.
C. An animal, such as a black cat, that amplifies her power.
D. Every witch is required to have a black cat, according to coven code, so it has become tradition to see the “familiar” black cat at a witch’s side.

5. What is the purpose of a witch’s familiar?
C. An animal, such as a black cat, that amplifies her power.
TBD: While “A” might be true, this is the real answer.

6. Lycanthropy is a term derived from Greek. What does it mean?
A. A psychiatric state in which the patient believes he or she is a wolf.
B. A person with a deadly fear of wearing Lycra (which is used in the making of some Halloween costumes).
C. A devotee of Lycos, the ancient Roman god whose feast was originally held on Halloween.
D. An inductee of the cult of Zeus which held a yearly gathering on Mt. Lycaeus.

6. Lycanthropy is a term derived from Greek. What does it mean?
A. A psychiatric state in which the patient believes he or she is a wolf.
TBD: The QuizQueen has always wondered what they call someone with a deadly fear of Lycra…

7. How did the “jack-o-lantern” get that name?
A. An old man named Jack who was too mean even to get into hell. The Devil gave him a piece of burning coal and sent him away. Jack used a turnip to hold the burning coal and serve as a lantern.
B. The Devil’s favorite dish is pumpkin pie and a clever man named Jack carved all the pumpkins in town into lanterns to drive the Devil away with a blaze of bright light and of course deprive him of his treat.
C. In ancient times, when children went trick-or-treating, they were guided by a man who carried a lantern. The guide was called a “Jack.”
D. The man who first cultivated the potato and carved it into a lantern was named Jack.

7. How did the “jack-o-lantern” get that name?
A. A mean old man named Jack who was too mean even to get into hell. The Devil gave him a piece of burning coal and sent him away. Jack used a turnip to hold the burning coal and serve as a lantern.
TBD: You should deduct points if you guessed any of The QuizQueen’s creative answers!

8. Can you pick out Halloween’s former name?
A. All Hallow’s Eve
B. All Hallow’s Day
C. All Hallowmass
D. All Soul’s Day

8. Can you pick out Halloween’s former name?
A. All Hallow’s Eve
TBD: The important thing to remember is that it was the NIGHT before!

9. The word warlock is a derivation of the Saxon-English term “war-loek” which means what?
A. Man with the magic hands
B. Oath breaker
C. Witch’s husband
D. Doomed one

9. The word warlock is a derivation of the saxon-english term “war-loek” which means what?
B. Oath breaker.
TBD: Did you sing along with “A”?

10. The Celtics would carry a lantern when they walked on the eve of October 31st. These first “jack-o-lanterns” were carved with faces to scare evil spirits away. What vegetable was originally used to make a “jack-o-lantern?”
A. Turnip
B. Potato
C. Pumpkin
D. Watermelon

10. The Celtics would carry a lantern when they walked on the eve of October 31st. These first “jack-o-lanterns” were carved with faces to scare evil spirits away. What vegetable was originally used to make a “jack-o-lantern?”
A. Turnip
TBD: Sometimes you don’t even need to set up the joke.

You can enjoy more trivia created by Deanna Mascle at A Trivia Break, The QuizQueen, and Trivial Topics.

THE RIDE OF HIS LIFE

It was a chilly, crisp morning at the racetrack. The sun was just beginning to come up over the mountains in the distance as Dad and I led one of our thoroughbreds out of the stables and out towards the training track. We were waiting to start track work with one our best gallopers, Paragon Prince, but unfortunately, once again the jockey had forgotten to show up. The particular jockey had tendency to spend many a night out with the boys getting on the booze and the hangover that ensued the next morning, inevitably led to his unreliability.

“Damn that blasted jockey.” cursed my father, rubbing his hands together, attempting to warm them. “He’s not going to show.”
I tethered our horse to the rails and studied my Dads face, thinking this was going to be another one of those interesting mornings. He was extremely irate and angry and when my Dad got irritated with the horses or situations connected with the stable and coupled with Dad’s way of managing things, any sign of frustration in my father, usually meant trouble. In all his years of training race horses, I had lost count of the number of times Dad had flipped out.
“What are you staring at.” Dad suddenly snapped at me.
“Nothing.” I said quickly, turning back to Paragon Prince, checking over the saddle, bridle and straightening up the saddle cloth. I slid my hands under his long thick mane, attempting to warm them, and avoided eye contact with my father, anything to not to incur his wrath. I felt even more strongly now that Dad was about to lose his temper and it was not going to be a pleasant morning.

I guess I should explain why I was so worried about my fathers temper. In all our years dealing with horses, trainers, owners, jockeys and the like, there had been many an occasion where things had not worked out the way Dad had envisioned. Therefore he would quite often lose his temper, spit the dummy and do some really off the wall stuff. Let’s face it, the racing game and more importantly thoroughbreds can be very unpredictable creatures and things can invariably go awry and my father could be usually seen, should I say throwing some kind of hissy fit. Like the time, a few years ago, when he couldn’t catch one of our brood mares. Granted, this particular horse could be a prize bitch when she wanted and this particular day was no exception. She really didn’t want to be caught that day and after two hours of my Dad and I trying out every plan that we had hatched the night before, she (the mare) decided to go into the paddock dam and stay there. My father was infuriated with this blasted horse, as he called her as well as few other strong expletives and suffice to say began to hurl stones at her. The mare just stood there, with an expression of complete arrogance, regarding my father with absolute contempt. The mare was not going to budge. She had won this round, and my Dad knew it. Anyone watching this little performance would have considered my Dad to be quite mad, but that was just his way of doing things, not necessarily the right way, but Dad’s way nonetheless. This particular story and many others involving our thoroughbreds have been told and re-told to family and friends, ending with everyone rolling around in fits of gut wrenching laughter.

Getting back to the morning in question, My father and I were cooling our heels still waiting for this jockey to arrive. Cooling our heels was right, it was bloody freezing. My father was huffing and puffing, pacing around, totally infuriated with this apparent ‘no show’ jockey. My mother would later say that Dad’s temper and rash deeds could’ve been disastrous to him and our family. I’ll never forget the dressing down she gave him. It was one of the numerous arguments they have shared during their forty-five years of marriage, concerning our horses and Dad’s tendency to flip a lid.

I stood there with Paragon Prince, stroking his mane watching my father pace up and down. He was mad, real mad. I didn’t see it as the end of the world. We could just unsaddle the horse, take him back to the stable and go home. Tomorrow was another day. Dad could ring our jockey and give him right blasting for not showing up. If he didn’t have a hangover, he certainly wouldn’t feel too good after Dad was through with him. I was not going to be bold as to suggest it. Why make my father more furious than he already was.

Suddenly, Dad stopped pacing and walked over to the horse, with an expression on his face that spoke volumes, that look one gets when they think they have a brilliant idea, but in reality the notion is moronic. This was one of my father’s idiosyncrasies that I have long learnt to fear. He untied the horse and began to fiddle around with the girth and stirrups.
‘Oh no!’ I thought to myself, not fully certain what he was about to do.
“What are you doing?” I protested, a feeling of dread gripping my stomach.
“What does it look like?” He snapped at me, leading the Paragon Prince onto the racetrack.
“Dad.” I protested again. “What the heck?”
Suddenly comprehending what he was about to do. Dad was going to ride the flipping horse himself.
“If this lazy jockey ain’t going to show up son, then I’ll ride track work.” Came his immediate retort.
“You can’t.” I argued.
“I can so, it’s my blasted horse.” He shouted stubbornly. I didn’t argue, that would have been useless. You didn’t argue with Dad when he was like this, he was not kidding.
I wasn’t even sure if he could ride or not. I had never seen him mount a horse.
“Dad.” I yelled, feeling just a bit cheeky, “Can you even ride?”
“How hard can it be?’ He asked me, meanwhile hauling himself into the saddle. He turned the horse and guided him out onto the course, not the training track, but on the course proper which was forbidden territory for track work galloping.
“Oh My Lord!” I cursed to myself, thinking that there are a million reasons why he shouldn’t do this. He’s not wearing a hard hat, just a stupid blue floppy thing. He can’t ride, obviously. Mum is going to be livid and will probably kill him, if he doesn’t kill himself in the process. Thoroughbreds are mad at the best of times, but with my crazy father, with his erratic irish temper who couldn’t ride a horse to save his life on a nervous thoroughbred, this was not going to be constructive track gallop.
“Damn!” I muttered to myself. Where was my mother when I needed her? If she were witnessing this, she would have a cow. A total melt down.
“Dad, you can’t!” I shouted, but it was too late. He couldn’t hear me anyway, it was a futile attempt. He walked Paragon Prince around to the 1200 metre starting area and gathered up the reins. He lent forward, giving the horse an unnecessary sharp kick in the guts and they took off at a flat out gallop. Dad just clung on for dear life, grasping at handfuls of mane and reins. I guess he was hoping the horse would just carry him to the winning post. They galloped around the corner into the straight, heading for the winning post. I ran down towards the straight and stood at the rail watching, still expecting the worst to come. Then all of a sudden, Dad saw it, I saw it and the horse saw it. The piece of metal wire that had been placed across the track to prevent idiots - like my father, galloping their horses on the course proper. My father tried and tried to pull him up, but to rein in a thoroughbred without warning, traveling at around sixty kilometres per hour is virtally impossible. He leaned back and dragged on the reins using every ounce of strength he possessed, but it was hopeless and he knew it. I stood there rooted to the spot, thinking for sure that my father’s number was up. He didn’t have a chance in hell of stopping Paragon Prince before they reached that metal wire.

All of a sudden, Dad did the only thing he could do under the circumstances; he bailed. He just plain jumped out of the saddle on to the ground still holding the reins and it was the funniest thing you ever saw; my crazy father running alongside this horse, which he somehow managed to pull away from that lethal looking piece of wire across the track. Don’t ask me how he did it. It was all so fast, but he did it. I sighed in total exasperation and relief, leaning against the rails. Dad walked over leading the horse behind him.
“Well.” he said, trying to catch his breath, his expression giving away nothing, “That was hairy.”
I said nothing, thinking that his words were a huge understatement and also knowing full well if I even opened my mouth Dad would be right in my face, justifying his actions. I decided then and there to just shut up and agree with him. I decided leave this task to my mother. Mum would and did lock horns with him later, she literally had him for breakfast and then some. As for the ‘no show’ jockey, well did he cop a well deserved dressing-down from both Mum and Dad. I don’t recall him ever riding for us again after that day. I assume my father had to go before the turf club officials over that incident and furthermore, he probably got into an abundance of trouble over it. I’m not really sure, I was only about twelve at the time, so I don’t recollect all that eventuated after that day. However, when I witness that determined, stubborn, cantankerous expression on Dad’s face, I know the ever -dependable hissy fit is just around the corner and to hell with the consequences. As far as I know, after the events of that morning my father never again attempted to ride a horse.

About the Author

A funny story, about a friend of mine and his trials and tribulation with thoroughbreds, trainers and jockeys

Magnets are very fascinating and interesting elements. They have
been used for so many functions as well as for having fun.
Toying around with magnets can provide entertainment for
children and adults alike. Playing with their incredible
capabilities makes one at awe; it’s like magic how they cling to
metal and other magnets as well. Man has been engrossed with
their magnetic capabilities that they soon discovered how to
synthesize these capabilities bringing forth the electromagnet.
By simply coiling wires around into a loop, electric current is
passed through these coils and a magnetic field is created. This
can be very useful when natural magnets or permanent magnets are
not available or too costly. Permanent magnets are those that
don’t need outside influences to have a magnetic field.

Magnets are any object, be it a permanent magnet or an
electromagnet, which has a magnetic field. Magnets are attracted
or repelled by other objects. When that object can attract or
repel a magnet it is said that such objects have high
permeability, iron and steel are examples of those. All types of
magnets have two poles, termed bipoles; they are the South Pole
and the North Pole. Even if a magnet is reduced to a molecular
size there would still be the two opposing poles. Similar poles
would repel one another while dissimilar poles would attract
each other and make them stick together.

Magnets have been very useful and have been utilized in many
everyday objects. Many of what we enjoy today uses magnets in
one way or another. For instance, magnets are converted into
magnetic strips where in information can be stored. In the case
of video tapes and audio tapes, the sound and images are stored
on the magnetic coating of the tape. Placing these tapes near a
strong magnet will destroy the data encoded inside it. ATM,
credit and debit cards also employ a strip of magnetic field on
its backside. This magnetic strip contains all the information
needed to access their accounts and financial institutions
that’s concerned with the card.

Microphones and speakers also need magnets to make them work.
They utilize a combination of permanent magnet and an
electromagnet. Speakers use the electromagnet to carry the
signals that generate a varying magnetic field that influences
the motion of the magnetic fields that is generated by the
permanent magnet. This recurring force moves the cone which
produces the sound. The microphone has the same concept but is
done in a reverse manner. Common television sets and computer
monitors also use magnets to generate images. Generators and
electric motors also need magnets for proper operation.
Transformers also use them. Then there are the other uses for
magnets that can be quite fun and amusing, such as the
refrigerator magnets.

Magnets though can be stripped off of their magnetic
capabilities. For an electromagnet it is very easy, you only
need to deprive it of its flow of current and the magnetic field
will die down. For permanent magnets there are a couple of ways
to demagnetize it. Rubbing one magnet to another in a random
manner will do the job; some materials though cannot be
demagnetized because they have a high coercive field. Intense
heat also influences the magnetic attributes of a permanent
magnet.

Many small business owners are disappointed by the ability of their web sites to generate new business. Simply having a web site does not guarantee its effectiveness as a marketing tool. If your web site is unable to consistently generate new leads and prospects you may well be disappointed in your investment in your web site. Does this sound familiar? If so, you may be making one of several common mistakes made by small business owners when they decide to turn to the web for more business. Here are five common mistakes that can hinder the marketing performance of your web site.

Failure to Measure Traffic
Every so often when I speak with someone who is dismayed at their web site’s ability to generate revenue I am surprised when they tell me they don’t know how many people visit their site each month, day, hour, etc. Measuring the traffic to and through your web site is critical for understanding the marketing prowess of your web design and the effectiveness of your advertising efforts.

If your web site enjoys lots of traffic, say over 1000 visitors a day, but generates one or two sales a month you can be pretty sure there is a deficiency in your web design. If you are not measuring traffic to your site you do not provide yourself an opportunity to identify and correct the problem. Your web design should lend itself to helping you get your visitors to take the action you want, buy something or provide you their valuable contact information.

On the other hand, if your web site generates a small amount of sales and you don’t know that only fifty people are visiting your site each month you deny yourself the ability to realize that you have a fantastic web site and that marketing it better will lead to a significant increase in revenue.

If you are not measuring your web site’s traffic you are missing opportunities to increase your ability to generate sales and be more successful. Two providers of web metrics are webtrends.com and webstat.com.

Poor marketing message
Another reason web sites fail to sell is that they do not do a good job of delivering a compelling marketing message. Without an excellent marketing message you risk your visitors hopping off to another web site because they do not know that you have what they want or need.

One sign that you may have a less than stellar marketing message is that it does not speak directly to the consumers who become your clients. Your marketing message should identify exactly whom you help. If you help more than one population you can easily cater your marketing message by changing just a word or two. Be sure your marketing message clearly indicates whom you help and you will notice an improvement in you sales success.

Another sign that your marketing message is not hitting a homerun is that it does not clearly demonstrate that you provide what your customers seek. If you sell handbags and your marketing message is “glamour can be yours” then you are missing the boat as this marketing message fails to indicate at all that you sell handbags.

To correct a dysfunctional marketing message make sure it clearly identifies your target market and the results they seek. Once you have a great marketing message you can use it in your web site and your other marketing material as well.

Don’t See Big Picture
Another common shortcoming of small business web sites is that many fail to realize a fundamental marketing concept: most consumers who make a decision to buy something make the decision to do so after 6 - 8 contacts with some form of marketing for a particular product or service. Failing to realize and act upon this marketing fact will hinder your ability to grow your business.

The purpose of marketing is to establish your business in the marketplace so that consumers think of you when they are ready to act to fill a need or desire. By regularly getting your marketing message in front of your market you can help them associate what you do with what they need. You can also attract more clients by demonstrating your expertise to clients in your marketing material.

Poor design
Do visitors to your web site do what you want them to do? If they are not it may be the design of your web site that is preventing your visitors from taking the action you want them to take. The design of each of your web pages is instrumental in guiding the actions of your visitors.

So what constitutes good design? Good design stems from the skillful integration of graphical and textual layout, color, shape and choice and flow of content. If your site does not have the content your visitors seek you will strike out each time someone visits your page. If your web pages don’t put what you want your visitors to see immediately in front of them you will miss opportunities to sell. If your choice of fonts and colors make your pages difficult to read your visitors will likely move along to another web site they can understand more easily.

To identify if your web pages suffer from poor design ask yourself the following questions:
Does my text stand out over my background color?
Does the design of my site focus my visitor’s attention where I want it?
Does my content give my users what they want?

If you answered ‘No’ to any of the questions above you can improve your ability to get your users to do what you want by taking steps to correct anything that may be wrong.

Failure to Focus on Client Needs
When people visit your web site you want them to read through the content of your site. By doing so your visitors develop a sense of how your product or service can help them. If your copy doesn’t focus on your clients’ needs and desires they will be off to another site in a blink.

If your visitors are quickly leaving your web site it may be because your copy does not focus on their needs. Here are some common mistakes to avoid:
Don’t focus on the process or method you use to do your job
Don’t focus on your existing clients
Don’t focus on your experience
Don’t focus on the quality of your product

By making any of the above mistakes you detract attention from the reasons that are going to help your clients make the decision to buy from you. You may be very proud of your accomplishments, and you should be, but focusing on them does not address your clients’ needs and will do little to help you sell more effectively.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

The author, Jeremy Cohen, helps small business owners attract more clients, grow their businesses and be more successful with his marketing services and free marketing guide, “Jumpstart Marketing: More Prospects, Clients and Success.” Get the guide at:
www.bettermarketingresults.com