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« Older Entries |Casual Friday©2012 Lynn Rebuck
Tuesday, March 27th, 2012
I want to hug whoever invented casual Friday.
Somehow they knew that by the time the end of the workweek rolled around, all that I would have left in my closet was a pair of crumpled jeans and a green “Kiss Me, I’m Irish” tee shirt that saved me from getting serially pinched on St. Patrick’s Day.
I am now lobbying for the institution of Mismatch Monday, Too-Small Tuesday, and Wrinkled Wednesday. I am toying with the idea of Jersey Thursday.
When I was self-employed I didn’t have to worry about such trivial concerns as getting dressed for the day. When you wake up at 4 a.m. with ideas streaming into your head, your only concern is to quickly write them down and return to that dream involving Hugh Jackman, a Maserati, and a calorie-free Chocolate Mud Pie.
As a writer, my workweek wardrobe schedule consisted of Bathrobe Monday, PJ Tuesday, and What’s-in-the-Hamper Wednesday. This serves a practical purpose. If we writers stopped long enough to shower, dress, or to select matching clothing, our good ideas are gone as fast as fashions change.
Last fall the Lord led me to donate all of the clothes in my closet to charity before I left on a trip. While initially this seemed a little strange, and would certainly simplify my packing, the Lord led me to understand that this was clearly desired by Him. When I questioned why he was having me do this, His response was simple. “I’m giving you a new wardrobe for your new position.” At the time I didn’t have a new position, nor had I applied for a job. I was puzzled.
“Remember Joseph in the Bible?” the Spirit inquired.
“Yes,” I responded.
“Remember when he was taken out of prison to serve in Pharaoh’s household?”
“Yes,” I responded again.
“Do you think he wore the same clothes there that he did in prison?”
“No, of course he didn’t. Ah, I get it now. So I’m getting a new position, and a new wardrobe to go with it.”
I emptied out my closet and headed to the nearest donation bin. Those close to me questioned if I was going crazy or if it was a mid-life crisis in the making. That happens when God calls you to action. You see when God calls you, other people often don’t hear it.
I left for my travel out of state soon after that exchange with the Spirit. My small carryon was lighter this trip. I flew across the country with the clothes I wore, a few undergarments to keep the TSA agents entertained, and a jacket. I arrived to stay with a Christian family that I had never met. What I didn’t know is that the Lord had clothing waiting for me when at my destination. Apparently God is opposed to paying baggage fees. My hosts had a collection of blouses, pants, sweaters, and sweatshirts in my size on hand to give to me before I mentioned my need. They had gloves, boots, jackets, and hats. Everything I needed was already in the house. I learned that day to trust in the Lord’s prescient provision.
When I returned to Pennsylvania, I met a woman at a local home group who had just flown across the country with the clothes she wore, a couple of worn shirts and pants, some undergarments in her carryon to arrive in a town strange to her. Sound familiar? It was hardly a coincidence. A God-incidence, it seems.
She had arrived here to escape an abusive family situation. This courageous woman had accepted Christ just a few days after her arrival at the home of my friend, one week before I met her. Through obedience to what seemed like a strange directive from God, I had compassion for her. I knew what it felt like to arrive in a strange place with little clothing to your name.
Before I took that trip out of state, the Lord called me to start a ministry when I got there. Through donations that I received to the ministry during that trip, I was able to provide the woman with gift cards to allow her to select a brand new wardrobe to start her new life with Christ. When I saw her next, after her shopping expedition, she was radiant and beaming.
I learned that there is a flow to giving and receiving, whether it is clothing, money, possessions, or time. I gave away clothes and then I received clothes; I received a financial donation, I gave away the financial donation to another for clothing. Throughout this process, I experienced Love in a whole new way, through both the acts of giving and receiving. And so did this new believer.
“Don’t be like them, “Jesus said of those who prayed to be seen of men and whose concern was for themselves, their reputation, and their own possessions. “Your Father knows what you need before you ask him,” it says in Matthew 6: 8. Often, He knows that what we most need is to give something away so he calls us to release things.
So what is it that you’ve been holding on to that God is calling you to release into the life of another so that you can experience this powerful flow of Love and provision? What is it that He knows someone else needs? It may be something old, coveted, or new, but I guarantee that what you gain in the process of faithful giving is joy greater than the happiness any possession can bring. Remember, He knows everything you have need of, even on casual Friday.
Lynn Rebuck is a national award-winning humor columnist, speaker, and director of Lynn Rebuck Ministries. Her column appears weekly in print, online, and on Amazon Kindle Blogs, where it’s one of the top humor blogs on life and parenting. Go to www.LynnRebuck.com for more information about Lynn, her ministry, and to read past columns. You’ll find her on Facebook and Twitter, and can email her at Lynn@LynnRebuck.com. © 2012 Lynn Rebuck.
Tags: casual Friday, charity, Christian, donate, fashion, funny, humor, ministry
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Hooked on Electronics©2011 Lynn Rebuck
Thursday, December 29th, 2011
Holiday shopping can be challenging, but shopping for a cell phone is nearly impossible. A recent trip to a Verizon store went something like this:
“Can I do face-to-face chat on this phone?” I asked the salesman.
“You can’t Skype. But you can Oovoo, Fring, or Tango.”
Of all the salesmen swarming like vultures in the store, I had to get Mork from Ork.
It was apparent we didn’t even speak the same language. Then it dawned on me: he must be speaking in tongues. I glanced around the store to see if someone had received an interpretation.
“I don’t think I’ve ever done any of those things, at least not in public,” I said.
He then explained that those were the names of different apps that one could use to communicate face-to-face via a smart phone.
I pondered whether I really wanted to chat bad enough to learn an entire new language. Maybe I could just call people and get together with them instead. I don’t have a good history with electronics. I once made a Speak ‘n’ Spell cry.
While I don’t mind all the technological advances, I do resent having to learn new electronics vocabulary words. Someone should develop a set of flashing flashcards to enhance the learning process or offer a video course called “Hooked on Electronics.”
When it comes to TV, I don’t know whether to Hulu or Roku. Maybe I should TiVo. I could record the Broncos game and TiVo Tim Tebow.
When I heard that Best Buy was having a big plasma event I went right down because I thought I could donate blood. I don’t know my 720p from a 1080i. Is there a tutorial on how to use an online tutorial?
I felt confident that I could master the electronic language, it would just take time. After all, I had learned to speak Pong, Atari, and Nintendo. I was now Bluetooth-ready.
“By the way,” the clerk said, “this cell phone has a built in translator. It recognizes over ninety languages.”
Those words were like MP3 downloads to my iBuds.
“Does it speak electronics?” I asked, “Because I have more shopping to do. I’d like to become buy-lingual by lunchtime.”
“Well…”
“Will it translate what a teen is saying in unintelligible grunts that sound like a tribal tongue?”
“I’m not sure…”
“Is it fluent in Repairmanese? I have a guy scheduled to look at my dishwasher tomorrow.”
“Really, lady, I don’t know…”
“I tell you what,” I said, “if you throw in a Zweet, Wheeme, and a Zwark, we have a deal, Mork.”
“Ma’am, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“It’s time to sync up your lingo, sonny,” I said. “I’m sure there’s an app for that.”
Lynn Rebuck is an award-winning humor columnist, speaker, and comedian. Read more at www.LynnRebuck.com and email her at Lynn@LynnRebuck.com. Her column appears weekly in the print, online, and on Amazon Kindle Blogs. In her spare time she enjoys reading instruction manuals for electronics devices. © 2011 Lynn Rebuck
Tags: app, cell phone, chat, Fring, funny, humor, Oovoo, Skype, smart phone, Tango, translate, Verizon
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A Hard Day’s Night©2011 Lynn Rebuck
Monday, November 7th, 2011
When is the worst time to have insomnia? The night we switch from Daylight Savings Time. Yes, you guessed it. On the evening when we delight in the fact that we get an extra hour of sleep, I ended up instead with an extra hour of sleeplessness.
It was a hard day’s night.
Everyone experiences an occasional bout of insomnia. I just timed mine wrong and it coincided with the time change.
As I lay awake listening to others snore, I thought about sleep aids. I thought about waking the others to tell them about my insomnia. I wondered if I could list sleep deprivation as a hobby on Facebook.
Here are some of my favorite ways to fall asleep when I’m having trouble dozing off:
- Listen to Enya’s music. I’m not sure what it is about this woman, but she makes me sleepy. I wonder if her New Age household is full of a drowsy spouse and lethargic children. Her CDs should have an advisory label on them: “Do not drive or operate heavy machinery while listening to this music.” Dosage: Start with one track. If still not sleepy after thirty minutes, listen to another track. Prolonged exposure may cause listlessness.
- Watch C-SPAN. Nothing puts me to sleep faster than a hearty dose of televised hearings from the House floor. Listening to the steady drone of elected officials just lulls me to sleep. I’m pretty sure this is how most of the objectionable bills get passed by Congress. Just use caution that you don’t end up watching British Parliament by accident. Watching their energetic interaction with the Prime Minister on the question and answer sessions is the equivalent of drinking three cans of Red Bull.
- Make a list of all the things you need to get done the following day, then hire an assistant to do them.
Here are a couple of interesting sleep-related facts. Reading helps you fall asleep. Men fall asleep faster than women. In fact, statistics show that at least four out of five men fell asleep while reading this column.
The week following the switch from Daylight Savings is the most dangerous week of the year for pedestrians. More pedestrians are hit by motor vehicles during this week than any other. So as you drive and walk around town, please be careful.
I managed to make it through the time change on the heels of arriving in a new time zone. I am already on the appropriate sleep-wake schedule for Malaysia. Unfortunately I am in the middle of the United States.
I have discovered that when it comes to the switch from Daylight Savings, people react in one of three different ways. There are those who set their clocks back Saturday night before they go to sleep, there are those who forget about the time change entirely and arrive everywhere an hour early the following day, and there are those die-hard time change fans who, like me, insist on staying awake until 2 a.m. Sunday morning to usher in the new hour. It’s kind of like New Year’s Eve without all the confetti.
How certain am I that my body will eventually adjust to time change? Well, let’s just say I’m not going to lose any sleep over it.
Lynn Rebuck is a national award-winning humor columnist, speaker, and Christian counselor whose column appears weekly in print, online, and on Amazon Kindle. She has six clocks and three watches, none of which are set to the correct time. Email her at Lynn@LynnRebuck.com, fan her on Facebook, and follow her on Twitter. © 2011 Lynn Rebuck
Tags: C-SPAN, Clocks, Daylight Saving, Enya, fall back, funny, humor, humorists, insomnia, sleep, time change
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Moms & Dads, Start Your Engines!©2011 Lynn Rebuck
Thursday, September 15th, 2011
Each weekday afternoon, just prior to dismissal, the semi-circle driveway of my daughter’s school resembles the beginning of a great automobile race: The Elementary 500. Cars coast into starting positions, crowded bumper to bumper on the asphalt track of scholastic speedway. Some arrive as much as an hour early in an attempt to get the flagpole position. Eventually the bell rings, someone waves a green backpack, the engines rev, and the race begins!
Every morning when I arrive at the school it appears the race is already in progress. Cars whip into the lot, slow down momentarily to catapult children towards their classrooms, and re-enter the race. I’m convinced that I saw Jeff Gordon dropping off his daughter. He was the only one with a pit crew.
It didn’t take me long to realize that I needed to enroll at the famous Bondurant School of Race Car Driving just to keep up with the other drivers. I’m hoping that they offer practical classes for parents like “Weaving Between Cars, Vans, and Busses while giving a Bottle to a Baby in the Car Seat in the Back,” “How to Park in a Red Zone and Make It Appear You Are Still Moving,” and “Quadruple Parking: How, When, and Why.”
Maybe the school of driving has courses like “When Your Carpool Drives You Crazy,” or “Meditation near the Median: Dropping Your Stress While Picking Up Your Kids,” or “Yoga for Yugo Drivers.” After a few unsuccessful trips through the lot (it was about 33 laps before I could actually pick up my child), I got smart.
I borrowed a workman’s jumpsuit and my daughter’s bicycle helmet. In the style of all great racers, I put large stickers on the helmet and patches on the jumpsuit. Extra Strength Tylenol. Huggies Diapers. Kraft Miracle Whip. NASCAR had nothing over me, except for wealthy corporate sponsors paying a large fee for high-speed advertising, great publicity, and a huge, loyal following. Still, I decided I’d give it my best shot. Early the next morning I donned the jumpsuit and strapped on the helmet.
With paint still dripping down the sides of my minivan from the red number 7’s I painted on each door, I climbed in behind the wheel. I revved my engine and squealed the tires. Then I remembered to put the garage door up. As I drove I felt the adrenaline pumping through my veins. When we turned onto the street the school was on, I noticed fewer cars on the road.
As we were about to arrive, my daughter reached into her backpack then handed me a crumpled piece of pink paper with the school letterhead at the top. I glanced at it as I pulled into the deserted elementary driveway.
After a moment, I rolled down my window, unsnapped my helmet, and screamed at the eagle atop the empty flagpole, “What do you mean there’s no school today!” Only one question crossed my mind: How many more laps before summer vacation?
Lynn Rebuck races around writing a nationally award-winning humor column that appears weekly in print, online, and on Amazon Kindle Blogs. You can email her at Lynn@LynnRebuck.com. © 2011 Lynn Rebuck
Tags: Back to School, Bondurant, carpool, driving, elementary, funny, humor, Jeff Gordon, motherhood, parenting, racing, School
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The Wiz that Was©2011 Lynn Rebuck
Saturday, July 23rd, 2011
Friday night I went to the movies to watch Harry Potter 7.2, the latest and final release in the box office film franchise that has magically been able to open the wallets of millions of muggles.
After feeling mugged by the teenage concessionaire at the local cinema, where I shelled out big bucks for a box of Reese’s peanut-flavored corn syrup pieces, a large cup of carbonated corn syrup, and $10 for a movie ticket, I went to find a seat. I had hoped to see the 3-D IMAX version of the film, but it was sold out. Left to choose between the regular 3-D and the 2-D version, I opted for the one that was going to be least realistic. This would, of course, enhance the fantasy element of the film.
I had no idea what evil lurked in the theater, and I’m not referring to He-Who’s-Name-Cannot-Be-Reprinted-without-Paying-Royalties.
In the restroom I discovered that an evil spell had been cast on everything mechanical. I waved my wet hands at the paper towel dispenser and nothing happened. Apparently I needed to wave a magic wand and repeat some Latin incantation like, “towelus producis,” which, oddly enough, worked when I waved my straw at the machine (the straw chooses the slurper, according to Potter’s mentors). The woman next to me encountered an uncooperative soap dispenser, which responded to a flick of my wrist and the directive, “soapus latheris slatheris,” which caused all of the dispensers to squirt in unison.
For those of you who did not make it to any dimension of theater yet to see the film, I’ll summarize it for you here (spoiler alert!). Luke, Leia, and Han Solo cannot return to Hogwarts because it has been taken over by the evil Darth Voldemort. Snape cut a deal with the creature whose nose job was done by the same doctor who did Michael Jackson’s plastic surgery so that the City in the Clouds would never come under Imperial Rule.
Unfortunately He-Whose-Name-Must-Not-Be-Mispronounced did not count on how surly a bunch of boarding school students become after seven and one-half films without a lot of speaking parts. The kids revolt against the evil lord and bravely fight to protect Potter, quidditch (which is a type of quiche made from squid), and to stop all those pesky owls from flying over the lunch tables.
In an epic battle that rivals a double trilogy and a half of Star Wars, the battle between the forces of good and evil culminates with a furious clash of light from dual-color dueling wands reminiscent of another film that did well at the box office, When Harry Met Sally. Obiwan/Gandalf/Dumbledore says off camera “Use the force, Luke,” and Princess Leia kisses Hagrid.
The scariest scene of the film came at the very end when the demented director shows us the effects of 19 years of married life on Harry Potter without He-Who-Kept-the-Young Wizard-In-Shape around.
It was shocking, but it would have been far scarier in 3-D.
Lynn Rebuck is a national award-winning humor columnist whose column appears weekly in the print, online, and on Amazon Kindle Blogs. She is currently writing the fourth book in a trilogy. Email her at Lynn@LynnRebuck.com, read her blog on www.LynnRebuck.com, follow her on Twitter, and fan her on Facebook. ©2011 Lynn Rebuck
Tags: 3-D, comedy, Deathly Hallows, Entertainment, film, films, funny, Harry Potter, humor, Michael Jackson, movies, Parody, Star Wars
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Driving Parents Crazy©2011 Lynn Rebuck
Sunday, July 17th, 2011
It is the time of year when many families head out on vacation. Some will bravely set out to drive to their destinations. It is with that in mind that I appeal to the big three automakers.
Detroit, we need change, and we need it now. Do you American auto manufacturers truly want to compete in today’s car market? Do you want to be solvent without begging for bailout money? Here’s the solution—make vehicles more parent-friendly.
So, GM, Chrysler, and Toyota (that is the third one, isn’t it?) here are my suggestions:
Forget about back-up cameras. What we need are backseat cameras to keep an eye on the kids. Parents are tired of craning their necks and threatening “Don’t make me come back there.” We’d like to be back there virtually all the time. Install some robotic arms for separating bickering children. You will, no doubt, garner the Motor Trend Car of the Year award for such design innovation.
Forget about a car that parallel parks itself. What we need is a car that drives carpools alone, that runs errands on its own, and that repairs itself.
Stop focusing on the smoothness of the ride and install shock absorbers in the back of each parent’s seat. These shocks should be strong enough that when kids kick the back of the seat, the parent should not even feel it.
OnStar is nice but we really need you to install a Super Nanny sound-alike into the GPS navigation to assist parents who are experiencing turn-by-turn aggravation.
Be less concerned about protecting us from engine whine and more concerned with protecting us from backseat whine. Perhaps installing Bose noise-cancelling headphones for the front seat passengers would help.
An age-old problem for parents that has never been addressed is the two-window-three-passenger backseat. To solve the seating dilemma so that each child gets a window, install a small sunroof directly over the middle seat.
While the pressure gauge on the dashboard that warns of a tire blowout is helpful, it may be more beneficial to install warning lights throughout the vehicle when a parent is about to blow.
After all, road rage was invented by a middle-class couple in the middle of the road in the middle of nowhere, who were each in the middle of a mid-life crisis. They were in the middle of what was to be a relaxing family vacation. They were supposed to visit an endless series of breathtaking locations, only instead ended up visiting a series of restroom locations where they had to hold their breath. Their kids had driven them to the brink of a breakdown.
Let’s face it, vacationing is work. At some point during the vacation everyone fantasizes about being home or even at work, though few will admit it. I think Detroit holds the keys to changing family driving vacations for the better. Let’s hope they get in gear.
Lynn Rebuck is a national award-winning humor columnist whose column appears weekly in print, online, and on Amazon Kindle Blogs. Visit her website, www.LynnRebuck.com, for more of her humor. She enjoys playing travel bingo while flying. Email her email her at Lynn@LynnRebuck.com, fan her on Facebook, and follow her on Twitter.© 2011 Lynn Rebuck
Tags: auto travel, Chrysler, Detroit, driving vacation, family, family vacation, funny, GM, GPS, humor, Motor Trend, road trip, Toyota, Travel, Vacation
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Longest Day© 2011 Lynn Rebuck
Wednesday, June 22nd, 2011
As I write this column it is Monday, June 21. According to a post on Facebook, which I confirmed in the finest journalistic fashion by consulting Wikipedia, it is the longest day of the year.
I beg to differ. The longest day of the year is the day after school lets out for summer vacation. It is amazing how much boredom kids can condense into one 24-hour period.
Technically, June 21 is known as the summer solstice, the day when there is the longest amount of daylight. It is the opposite of the December 21 winter solstice, the day when my kids have the most lights turned on throughout the house.
The day after school let out last week was indeed a long one. 
I had used up all the ideas I clipped from parenting magazines and squirreled away for months in anticipation of that fateful day, and it was only 10:30 in the morning. The dog ate the homemade purple play dough, there was glitter everywhere (I am sure I am the first woman to pay bills with sparkly checks), and the kids were using the craft sticks as tongue depressors (one had the other sign a HIPPA form before he could play).
I am convinced that summer is the longest season of the year. Either that or it just seems long. I should have planned ahead. I could have arranged for summer camps, missions trips, or retreats. For me, that is.
Experts say summers are difficult because kids lose their routine. They say that kids need a routine, that it provides them with stability. Actually, I think it’s we parents that need the kids to have the routine. It provides us with sanity.
We need a set time when we don’t have six little eyes following our every move, time when we’re not playing a daylong game of involuntary hide-and-seek, and time when we can be free to go where we need without excuse, explanation, or 30 sticky fingers grabbing stuff in every aisle.
Summer is a time when mothers venture out into the heat in a universal search for sanity, seeking solace, connection, and a place for kids to cool off. Luckily, such sanity can be found locally at community pools, the air-conditioned comfort of a “multi-storied” local library, and a nearby kid-friendly park.
I’ve decided I can’t stay cooped up in the house with the kids all summer. One of us is going to lose our sanity, and I’m pretty sure which one of us it’ll be. If we don’t get out soon, my new routine may include braiding rugs or weaving baskets in a low-stress environment.
It’s time to venture out and explore new frontiers. To boldly go where generations before have gone. Besides, the kids have figured out all of my good hiding places.
Lynn Rebuck writes a nationally award-winning humor column that appears weekly in print and on Amazon Kindle. You’ll be able to spot her at the local pool—she’s the one covered in glitter. You can fan Lynn on Facebook, follow her on Twitter, or email her at her website, www.LynnRebuck.com © 2011 Lynn Rebuck
Tags: activities, Children, funny, humor, Kids, last day of school, motherhood, parenting, pool, solstice, Summer, swimming, Time
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Mother, Stay Calm© 2011 Lynn Rebuck
Saturday, May 14th, 2011
Mother’s Day is simply not long enough. Mardi Gras lasts for at least three days. The entire month of May is dedicated to hamburger. What are we mothers, chopped liver? Mothers deserve at least a fortnight celebration, however long that is.
Christopher Columbus gets a whole day devoted to him. All he did was discover the New World. He never had to tend to a colicky baby in the middle of the night. He never had to shop for a prom dress with an indecisive teen. And he never had to chaperone a field trip of unruly third graders. His overseas voyages pale in comparison to the experience I had leading my last motley crew. Try finding a new route to the bathroom every few minutes in a crowded theme park with a kid who “really has to go.”
Abe Lincoln gets a whole day. Well, four score and seven years ago (give or take a few scores) I brought forth on this continent three new babies, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that I do not treat any of them equally. What did Lincoln do to deserve an entire day? Oh sure, ending the Civil War was a big deal and preserving the unity of our country was important, but mothers end wars and preserve unity on a daily basis. We perform hostage negotiations, infiltrate dangerous territory (teen bedrooms, need I say more?) and we are diplomats in every sense of the word.
What mother hasn’t encountered a scene like this:
“Let go of your brother.”
“No. He started it.”
“Let go of him this instant.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“Nothing.”
“Why is his hair shorter on one side in the back?”
“No reason.”
“Did you cut his hair?”
“No, the scissors did.”
Or how about this typical scene between a teen and his mother:
“How long has this plate of food been under your bed?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you think about throwing it away?
“I’m not done with it yet.”
“What do you mean you’re not done with it? I can’t even recognize what meal it was.”
“It’s a science project now. I’m getting extra credit for seeing how much mold and bacteria I can grow on it.”
“It looks like you have a matching set of petri dishes under here. Are those to boost your grade as well, Louis Pasteur?”
I believe that a holiday to honor mothers needs to be longer in duration for one simple reason: it is not easy for us to transition out of mothering mode. Motherhood is stressful, and we must be constantly vigilant. There has been an elevated threat level in my home since the day my first child was born. It takes mothers at least a day to start to let go of the constant responsibility of mothering. We are just starting to unwind when it abruptly ends. That’s why we need another day or two tagged onto the end of the festivities.
I began writing this column using speech-activated technology on my cell phone. I speak, and the word processor types what I said, or rather what it thinks I said. As I dictated the temporary title of the piece, “Mother’s Day Column,” the well-meaning application typed out “Mother Stay Calm.” It is a fitting headline and the theme of motherhood if ever there were one.
Mothers, stay calm. And have a Happy Mother’s Year.
Lynn Rebuck is a nationally award-winning humor columnist, speaker, and comedian. Her column appears weekly in print, online, and on Amazon Kindle Blogs. Follow her on Twitter, fan her on Facebook, and visit her website, www.LynnRebuck.com, where you can email her about your Mother’s Day experience. © 2011 Lynn Rebuck
Tags: Columbus, Columbus Day, funny, holidays, humor, Lincoln, May, mother, Mother's Day, motherhood, parenting, President's Day
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Pimp My Buggy ©2011 Lynn Rebuck
Sunday, March 27th, 2011
Though I am an experienced driver nothing prepared me for driving in Lancaster County or for parking in Lancaster County, for that matter. I do not like losing a battle for a parking space to a horse and buggy.
The Pennsylvania Driver’s Manual did not address issues that have become pressing to me as I drive the bucolic byways of Lancaster County, like exactly when and where am I supposed to pass a horse and buggy?
So, investigative humorist that I am, I did a little research.
First I consulted the PENNDOT website. I was disappointed to discover that this common mode of transportation in our state was not even mentioned in the driver’s manual or on the website.
I discovered on the Internet a Horse and Buggy Driver’s Manual published by Lancaster County. It was quite helpful and caused me ask questions that I had never considered before like: Why is this manual on the internet if the Amish do not use computers?
Does the famous gecko insure horses and buggies? Do buggy drivers need to carry proof of insurance?
If you get hit by a horse and/or buggy driver without insurance coverage, are they considered uninsured non-motorists?
How do car insurers handle horse and buggy claims? Is there replacement coverage, and do they provide a rental?
Can horsessue for medical injuries? Do they get whiplash? (more…)
Tags: Amish, buggy, driving, funny, horse, humor, insurance, Lancaster, Lancaster County, PennDOT, Pennsylvania, Plain
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MRI Is Worth a 1,000 Words©2011 Lynn Rebuck
Wednesday, March 9th, 2011
![deep-brain-stimulation-6[1]](http://www.lynnrebuck.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/deep-brain-stimulation-61.jpg "deep-brain-stimulation-6[1]")
I had an MRI last week. MRI stands for magnetic resonance imaging and is a diagnostic study ordered by physicians. It is a medical exam that performs two functions simultaneously. First, an MRI provides a detailed visual rendering of the body much like going through airport security only you have to take off much more than your shoes and you will not be rewarded with a bag of peanuts. Second, it informs the physician as to whether a patient is claustrophobic or not.
The patient is asked to recline on a narrow pad which slides into the imaging device, a machine featuring a metallic tube slightly larger than a human and which makes a loud, impatient tapping noise.
“Can they do this study with an open MRI?” I asked while the tech slid me headfirst into the machine.
“This machine is open at the other end,” he replied.
If I had eyes at the top of my head, that knowledge would have been helpful. I now know how a torpedo feels. It didn’t help to overhear the tech say I was then “locked and loaded.”
I believe there are few people who are comfortable inside of an MRI machine and most of them are shot out of cannons routinely. It dawned on me that the last time I was in a space so narrow I was being born.
The MRI uses large powerful magnets to alter the alignment of the nuclei in one’s body. I was hoping that by the time they were done rearranging my atoms I would come out looking like Angelina Jolie.
Once the patient is in place the (more…)
Tags: claustrophobic, doctor, funny, Health, humor, medical, MRI
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