Pre-Ramble:  Hi, it’s me, Daisy … I’ll be your guest blogger for today. Since Mom’s gotten the new phone, she’s been holed up in the corner, fumbling around with dual thumb dexterity and cursing at the web tutorial. This process could take a while … I don’t mean to be rude, but between you and me, her data-entry skills are pathetic. I don’t even have thumbs and I can type faster than that.

Anyway, today I want to tell you about a piece of legislation just passed by our new freshman senator, Al Franken — a pilot program pairing wounded veterans with service animals. 

Now, I can’t speak for cats (who can, really?) … but from a dog’s perspective, this is an awesome idea!  Frankly, I think that the helping capacity of the canine community is highly under-utilized.  Sleeping in the sun is fine and all, but it gets old (and hot) and there is so much more we can do!

Like humans, dogs have a variety of skill sets and proclivities. Some are wired to swim and fetch, others excel at digging holes and burying stuff, still others shine by tracking, pointing and blogging (like yours truly).  Also like humans, the majority of us have had basic training and can get along in most social situations.

The thing is, while dogs are commonly recognized for performing the requisite “sit-stay-heal-come-down-rollover” maneuvers, we have a whole deeper level of relating that goes largely untapped. Dogs, by nature, are warm, cuddly, affectionate creatures and we are excellent at sharing these qualities.

For veterans who experience debilitating stressors including physical injury, mental health issues, sleeping disorders, and strained relationships with family, friends and colleagues, dogs are just the thing.  Service dogs like Kelly, pictured above, are trained to handle an astounding array of activities like opening doors, picking up objects, or even sensing an oncoming seizure. Who else is going to lick your face, alert you to oncoming traffic, or eat crumbs off the floor?

Face it — we’re irresistible … The dog is a social magnet, a trait which facilitates the perfect “triangulation effect.” You roll into a park or mall with a dog, and before you can throw a tennis ball, all kinds of folks are smiling and coming over to see you. Before long, they’re chatting with you and scratching your dog behind the ears — mission accomplished.

And, in addition to the benefits of functional helpfulness, it is nearly impossible to be sad, angry or lonely when you have a dedicated doggie buddy at your side. Our nearly inexhaustible supply of love and companionship just soaks up all kinds of bad stuff and changes it out for calm, steady, positive vibes. That seems like something a war veteran (or any of us!) could use once in a while.

The Take-Away: This is a total win-win scenario; veterans have an opportunity to experience a better quality of life and dogs have a chance to step-up and work their magic.  All those in favor, say, “Woof!”

Post-Note: If war vets get special “dog tags” it’s only fair that animals inducted into the Canine Corps should get them too … duh.  And, as First Dog and uber-service animal to the U.S. Commander-in-Chief, Bo should definitely be recognized as an honorary member of the group.

Pre-Ramble:  Look out! As of yesterday afternoon, I am the proud owner and captain of my very own iPhone 3GS.  That’s right, mild-mannered, tech-challenged me is packing “the fastest most powerful iPhone yet”…  … featuring up to 32 gigabytes of storage, voice control, video recording, cut and paste functions, and a bunch of other cool stuff that I don’t even understand. 

Apparently, I now carry the technological equivalent of NASA, a Swiss army knife, and a concierge right here in my purse.  This multi-functional object works as a cell phone, text-messaging center, email access, Internet hook-up, gaming arcade, jukebox, restaurant guide, movie camera (and editing table), calendar, to-do list, directional compass, GPS unit, and ”virtual” coin flipper… it even has a backyard bird guide!  How on earth did I get through a day without this thing?   

As is the case with most every product released by Apple, the iPhone 3GS is as close to design perfection as you can get. Its sleek, curved styling and clean simple functionality are a wonder to behold, and the crisp, brightly lit icon buttons communicate so well that even the most tech-unworthy among us can summon up the intuitive gumption to grasp their meaning. 

Apple has elevated the shopping experience around its products to an art form.  The classy glass entryway and underground orientation of its premiere NYC location (shown above) evoke I.M. Pei’s Louvre Museum in Paris. Even at our local mall here in Minnesota, the Apple store has a unique and exciting atmosphere. You walk into the stark, but bustling, white, bleached-wood gallery/playground environment and are immediately greeted by the first tier of the Apple staff hierarchy, a chipper team of ”associates” in orange t-shirts. Once the assessment has been made as to the objective of your visit, you are upgraded to an associate in a blue t-shirt. (Our’s was named Drew.)

The tech-wizard will see you now … The guys (and gals) in the blue shirts (the tech-hip equivalent of a starched white lab coat), are young, friendly, laid-back and highly knowledgeable around all things tech. Techiness reeks out of their  pores. They have official ID badges on lanyards; two-way transmission ear buds; and wifi, pocket-rocket cash registers strapped to their belts. These combination brand evangelist, nurse practitioner, tech-wizards, flawlessly walk you through the pertinent points of their presentation, citing competitive advantages and nifty features, and emitting invisible rays of wisdom so deep they must be all but able to divine your most hidden thoughts. The overarching vibe we got from Drew was, ”you’re safe, you’re in good hands, it’s cool, and it’s all good.”

So, you decide on the couple of options available on the unit — amount of memory (16 or 32 gigabytes … apparently both are beyond a TON of storage capacity … my sales associate confided that even he, in all his uber-techiness, had trouble filling up the 16GB unit) and color (black or white … black seemed the way to go), and then you head over to the accessories wall … some particulars:

• While the unit comes with a charging cable and headset, you need some way to recharge it on the road.  The Griffin “PowerJolt” seems to fit the bill (we’ll see … my newbie phone still has it’s original charge). 
• An anti-glare film protector is also a must, to ward off 99% of the scratches, dust, dirt, smudges and fingerprints that could mar your pristine and inherently fragile touch screen. Comes in a two-pack.
• You also definitely want a cover – something grippy and bouncy, so when you drop the thing, it has some kind of chance at survival. My daughters recommend the “incase” brand slider case … pliable enough to hug the phone, but firm enough to retain it’s shape (some of the cases made out of the more “rubbery” materials will actually stretch out over time, becoming baggy and flopping off the edge of the phone … not good — too easy to bobble the unit).

So, there you are. A few clicks on the remote cash register, the grand swipe of the credit card, and you’re good to go!  I hope this has been a useful and informative play-by-play on the iPhone 3GS purchase process. Stay tuned for future posts on user-interface pointers, foibles, etc. …

The Take-Away: By far, the best part about the whole iPhone 3GS scenario was the tech-envy incited by my new toy in my beloved teenage children. I swear, I was floating a few gigameters off the floor as we left the mall, while my daughter trudged along, shaking her head all, “Mom, you have no idea how much stuff that thing can do …” as though I were some 95-year-old granny crawling out of the parking lot in a spanking new Maserati Granturismo S.  

… SO, WE’RE EVEN — beauty is wasted on youth, and cutting-edge technology is wasted on us old farts!

Post-Note:  Thanks Drew — great job – I’m off to leap tall buildings! … And, as I mentioned on the sales floor, should I have any little questions or issues, I’ll be sure to text you.

Pre-Ramble: So, let’s see if that link-to-the-email relay mechanism really works … (and if you’re just joining us, I added a new feature to the site that can send a note to your email when I post a new blog. To sign up, just enter your email address into the field in the upper left-hand corner where it says “Enter your email address” … ). 

Theoretically, if you entered your email address into that little block area after my earlier test posting, a note that I just posted this blog entry should pop into your email. Or, if you entered you email address just now, a note will pop into your email the next time I post something.

Phew – this high-tech stuff is complicated! (My kids are currently rolling on the floor laughing at my attempt to describe something so simple that they can do it in their sleep.)

The Take-Away: Well, enough admin housekeeping — stay tuned for my next actual blog … something insightful, informative and/or entertaining … blah … blah.  In the meanwhile, it would really be helpful if you could send me a quick note through the “responses” function below to let me know whether the email feed worked for you or not.

Pre-Ramble:  Several of my semi-regular readers have asked if there was a way that I could let them know when I post a new blog, so they won’t miss it, or so they won’t spend valuable screen time checking in on my site every other minute to see if a new entry has been posted.

So, I asked my tech guy about it and he said, “Yep, there’s a way to do that.”

About three minutes later, he sent me an email that said, “Look in the upper left hand corner of your site and see if that is what you were thinking of.”

So, I looked at it, and sure ’nuff – that was it!

So, now … if you’d like a quick prompt to pop into your email to let you know when I’ve posted a new blog entry on the “K” site, just enter your email address into the handy space on the upper left side of the homepage screen that says, “Enter your email address” and then click on the “Subscribe” button below it.

Poof!  … News of a fresh “K” blog will enter your world whenever I post one on the site.

Hold your applause – I’d like to check and see whether this actually works and would very much appreciate it if a couple of you Beta Canaries-in-the-mineshaft could enter your email address as described above and let me know if the loop follows through. 

Please note: No one will ever see the email address that you enter (not even me – it’s just a relay mechanism); I will not sell any email address that is entered for this purpose on my site (can’t - I won’t know what they are); and entering your email address will not cause any form of additional spam to come into your inbox. You have my word on that.

The Take-Away:  So, now, due to modern technology, and my super techmeister, Clay – you will never miss a single “K” blog post.  All is right with the world!!

Pre-Ramble: So, a “long-awaited study” of aging in rhesus monkeys indicates that the human life span can be “considerably extended” by severely restricting calorie intake. 

Researchers at the University of Wisconsin report that test subjects are showing many beneficial signs as an outcome of the reduced calorie diet including “significantly less diabetes, cancer, and heart and brain disease.” Monkeys on the restricted diet were expected to enjoy a life span extension of 10 to 20 percent. Researchers apparently regard this as “very good news.” 

Note to the UW research team — Good luck with that.  Personally, I get crabby if I miss a snack; there is no way I am going to sign up to live 10 to 20 percent longer and be LITERALLY STARVING the whole time.

The Take-Away:  It’s the old “quantity vs. quality” debate. Would you rather bite the bullet a little earlier with bits of chocolate-dipped waffle cone stuck in your teeth, or spend all of eternity on a treadmill popping flaxseed capsules? 

Tofu-celery smoothie anyone?

Pre-Ramble:  So, the miracles of modern marketing strategy aren’t always as miraculous – or as accurate — as we might hope. I’m thinking that perhaps our class action fears around stuff like Homeland Security, Big Brother, Google, and tracking cookies are unfounded. 

Just the other day I received an email from my BFF Amazon.com letting me in on a bunch of products that it was sure, in its omniscient e-wisdom, I’d be interested in.

When it comes to books, my buddies at Amazon are, more often than not, able to gather up a handful of titles that are vaguely relevant to items that I have purchased from them in the past. I don’t mind that. In fact, I have often responded to their suggestions with a spontaneous click to the Quik Checkout button. 

The other day however, it presented a collection of goods that were so off-base, it was laughable. 

Dear Amazon.com Customer — As someone who has shown an interest in cooking and home products, you might like to know about our Summer Sale on over 400 products … blah … blah …”

Among the array of ”cooking and home products” that had been assembled for my consideration were: the George Foreman 360 Grill, complete with 5 interchangeable grill plates; the Shun steel angled 6-inch utility knife; and the Rachel Ray 10-piece anodized cookware set in orange.  All of this would have been great, except that the item which I had ordered from Amazon that in all likelihood had triggered this series of cutting edge marketing communications was The Twinkies Cookbook (2006).

I know what you’re thinking — cooking at its finest, right?  And if the brightly colored Hostess logo on the cover doesn’t sell you, the cadre of gourmet recipes and user testimonials inside will have you scrambling for your PayPal password. As you can imagine, I had some real trouble trying to decide which delectable concoction I would like to make first.

• Twinkie Petits Fours – “I created this recipe in honor of my dad, using his favorite treats — Twinkies and chocolate. They are so good, and no one believes me when I tell them what they are.”  Barb C. from Bakersfield, CA … (I know I’d be incredulous.)
• Twinkie Sushi – “It’s nice to serve Twinkie Sushi at a dinner party on a Japanese tray with chopsticks. Your guests will laugh while they enjoy a refreshing fruity dessert at the same time.” Clare C. Baton Rouge, LA … ( Can’t you just hear the guests chuckling now?)
• Twinkie Smoothie – “This Hostess original recipe was created to commemorate Twinkies’ 75th anniversary. It’s best served parlor style with two straws!”  ( A good beverage is all about texture.)
• Twinkie Kebabs – “This was a spur-of-the-moment idea. I had leftover fruit, but not enough Twinkies to give each of the gals at my candle-making party her own. This recipe saved the day!” Dianne M. from Lakemoor, IL … (PHEW – disaster averted, Dianne!!)
• Twinkie Shortcake – “When my sister-in-law made this recipe for a family dinner, everyone thought she had worked her tail off in the kitchen. She shared the secret of this quick and easy dessert with only the women. Now it’s become our inside joke when we make it — the men think we’ve slaved away for them.” Debbie J. from Saint Augustine, FL … (Wink, wink … I know my stupid husband wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between traditional strawberry shortcake and a pile of cut up Twinkies covered in Cool Whip…)
• Twinkie Tunnel Bundt Cake – “I make this cake for special occasions and when company is coming. People love the surprise of finding the Twinkies hidden inside the chocolate cake!” Darlene C. from Piper Cove, MN … (A delightful “Gotcha!” moment to be sure … And, the Bundt pan itself was invented in Minnesota too!)

The Take-Away: I thought that ”Twinkie Cookbook” was an oxymoron.  Clearly not. In cyberspace, fashioning quasi-edible food matter into faux-food formats is considered cooking. Who knew?  Well, … until the next edition comes out, I’ll be out back grilling up some consumables on the George Foreman.

Pre-Ramble: We’ve all got ‘em … the movies we’ve seen that rank at the top of some arbitrary scale … the “best movie we’ve ever seen” … or the “worst movie we’ve ever seen” … the stupidest movie … the weirdest movie … Well now, I have a new contender for the “slowest movie I’ve ever seen.” Slow, as in, a plot line and character development that take F-O-R-E-V-E-R to get going … and really, actually never do get going. Which turns out not even to be the point.

O’Horten was billed as a four-star, quirky, Norwegian film (it had subtitles that I honestly forgot were even there, which is kind of unsettling) that chronicled a slice of life of a retired railroad engineer. The two words that should stand out for you here are “quirky” and “Norwegian” — a potentially deadly combination that makes drying paint look like Cirque de Soleil.  Stoic understatement doesn’t even begin to describe it. Never mind that what represents “action” in the film takes place in the cold, ice-blue illumination of a Norwegian winter.

Movie critics loved O’Horten (hence the four-star rating):

• Metacritic.com – “O’Horten is about frustration, patience, kindness and the wildness that lurks in even the calmest hearts.”
• Christian Science Monitor – “A train engineer’s take on retirement slips into the absurd on this surreal Norwegian comedy from director Bent Hamer.”
• Cannes Review on Cinematical.com – “… O’Horten doesn’t have much of a plot, but then again, if you asked most people for the three-act structure of the day they’re having or the life they’re living, I doubt they’d have much of an answer …”
• Roger Ebert – “O’Horten, a bittersweet whimsy by the Norwegian director Bent Hamer, … involves us in the lives of its characters, so we can understand why they are funny while at the same time so distant.”

… frustration … patience … absurd … surreal … bittersweet … whimsy … ?  In all fairness, these descriptors were surrounded by praise for the subtle depth and charm portrayed in the film — which is totally deserved. I’m not talking about good or bad here.  There are many, many endearing and meaningful bits to O’Horten. … It’s just that the movie is … did I mention that the movie was slow? 

And that, is what I will treasure and remember it for. From now on, every movie that I see will be measured and ranked for pace by my internal movie meter according to the benchmark set by O’Horten.  It will be the gold standard of movie slowness until such time as another more superbly unhurried movie displaces it. Until then, the question asked will be, “Yeah, but was it as slow as O’Horton?”

The Take-Away:  Just shining a little light on relativity here. Whether we realize it or not, the events, experiences and opportunities that cross our paths (even the seemingly inconsequential ones, like movies) are part of a bigger picture, a life context that includes relationships to other events, experiences and opportunities, which come together to form our own personal hierarchy of experiences … stuff we can compare other stuff to.

Was O’Horten my favorite movie? No!  O’Horten probably isn’t even in my top 50 favorite movies. Yet, it will reign in my mind as the king of its realm, in all of its stiffly profound and memorable slowness.  And, beyond that, in this age of Top Ten everything, you need to be on the look-out; you just never know when something is going to scream to the top of one of your lists.  I’m just sayin.

Post-Note: Doesn’t O’Horton’s dog (shown above) look like it could be Daisy’s older, spottier, flabbier cousin?

Pre-Ramble: These lazy days of summer seem an ideal time to address the very important issue of time management.  Fair summer weather beckons us to drop all pretenses of obligation and wile away the hours in a hammock, drift along in a birch bark canoe, or sip fresh-squeezed lemonade on grassy hillside.  Really – what is a chronic over-achieving, goal-oriented, eager-beaver to do?

Melissa Healy (Los Angeles Times, 4-8-09), discusses the underlying forces that govern time and time management including the basic internal clocks that have governed human behavior for millions of years giving us the ability to note the passage of time, wake up and fall asleep, forage for food at regular intervals, etc.  I’m sure she’d have a ready explanation for the many dynamics of time that come into play in the average day. I’m less sure that she’d be able to fathom my personal version of time. I don’t so much “manage” time, as wrangle with it.

In my world, there are several different settings for managing time ranging from lethargic to maniacal. On any given day, I find myself careening erratically across the spectrum, sluggish one minute, amped-up the next. There are moments when time is nearly standing still — in which, coincidentally, I am also standing still — standing in the middle of my kitchen in the middle of the afternoon, pondering a state of randomness and fighting the urge to take a nap. 

There are other times, mostly in the morning or late at night, when I can swirl from task to task, accomplishing several things in a clearly focused, almost choreographed way. While I’m sure Ms. Healy would have some scientifically viable explanation for this flux in energy, and others (my highly efficient and punctual husband) would just as soon attribute it to some psychotic disorder, I prefer to think of it as a higher order level of multi-tasking.

Here’s the thing: Sure, stuff needs to get done, even in the blissful days of summer – those lemons don’t squeeze themselves after all.  Crossing things off lists and knocking down to-dos will always be important, but these accomplishments need to be balanced with a few things that don’t need to “get done” as well. Somewhere along the line you need to take a break from the strategic plans, continuous improvement and timelines and do some serious frittering … poking around … lolly-gagging … drifting … following your bliss … soaking your feet … whatever! 

The Take-Away: In honor of unread paperbacks and untread flip-flops everywhere, I’d like to invite chronic time-managers to fully maximize the concept of “free time.” Now, for a limited time, I am going to provide you, my beloved readers, with your very own shot of Special Reserve Free Time; here’s all you need to do:

1. Set up a meeting with me for the date and time of your choice (preferably at least a week or two out);
2. Enter the information – in ink – into your schedule/calendar;
3. Wait;
4. I will contact you approximately 5 minutes before our scheduled meeting … and CANCEL. 
5. POOF – a huge chunk of  free time has just blown a hole right into the middle of your day!

You can thank me later .