Attn: Anyone who needs a book idea

Before my boyfriend visited my parents’ house for Easter, I warned him that some members of my family can harbor unorthodox views.

I used the time that my father decided that the future of warfare would involve national space programs “nudging” comets so that they were on a collision path with enemy territory as an example.

“You’re kidding,” my boyfriend said.

But I assured him I was not – comet missiles are only a matter of time, as far as my father was concerned.

And if on the off-chance that doesn’t happen, I think it would make for an excellent science fiction book. They write about all kinds of junk these days, like “an ascetic tribe of half-animal beings chances upon a device with the power to rewrite time and erase history, and sets off across a post-apocalyptic America to find a way to destroy it.”

That plot was included in a news release issued by first-time novelist Ben Goodridge – who by the way – happens to be “on a crusade,” according to the release headline.

Against what, I’m not sure. But I hope the fight involves comets.

Lit-tle Question

Kids always have a lot of questions.

For example, my four-year old cousin visited my parents’ house for Easter and asked why my father kept a turkey baster in a cup on the shelf under the aquarium.

I thought it was a fair question, but I didn’t stick around for the answer because I didn’t have 20 minutes to spare.

And I found out today that some kids must ask the question, “Where did Mary get her little lamb?” because someone went and wrote a children’s book about it.

In case you were wondering, when an ewe gives birth to more than two lambs at a time, a sheep rancher usually pays a child to feed the third lamb with a bottle so that it doesn’t starve to death.

“Mark Jay Bingham's new color-illustrated children's book, "Woolie" (published by AuthorHouse), creatively expounds upon the familiar nursery rhyme, "Mary Had A Little Lamb," and provides children with an applicable, real-life explanation as to how and why Mary had a lamb as her companion.”

I guess if someone wants to write a book about such a thing, that’s their business.

But I have a question of my own: Who decided to issue a press release about it?

Eli Manning Turns Water Into Wine

My father and I spent ten minutes today discussing Eli Manning’s performance in the Super Bowl.

“Even you can’t deny it,” my father said. “That last play of the game was divine intervention.”

“No, it wasn’t. It was –"

“DIVINE INTERVENTION!” he repeated. “That play was a miracle!”

“It was not miraculous,” I said. “It was good, but it wasn’t a miracle.”

“It was the work of God!” my father insisted.

If you think my father’s commentary was ridiculous, just wait until you hear what Dr. Joanne G. Sujansky, CSP, CEO and Founder of Pittsburgh-based KEYGroup, said in their recent press release “Hey, Corporate America!”

“When the New York Giants' 28-year-old quarterback led his team to a Super Bowl victory, he showed 97 million viewers that Gen Ys are the do-it-and-prove-it generation,” reads the release.

"If this Gen Y quarterback could do it with the best team in the NFL, what's to stop Gen Ys from moving our country's corporate teams to their Super Bowls?" Dr. Sujansky asks.

Gen Ys doing-it and proving-it for a corporate team in a Super Bowl equivalent?

It’ll take a miracle to figure that mess out.

The Futon: An Innovative Couch-Like Seating Apparatus

One weekend when my family came to visit the city, they stopped at my apartment for dessert.

I was cutting fudge in the kitchenette and my mother was setting the coffee table approximately three feet away when my brother opened the refrigerator door directly into the ledge I was cutting on. Then my father swung out of the bathroom and took a single step into the middle of it all.

Within seconds, I said to my father, “Oh for heaven’s sake, close the door and use the air freshener.”

So my father headed back in and banged around in the cabinets and rustled the shower curtain. He sprayed something very briefly before there came a tell-tale silence.

When I looked in, he was still holding the canister in the spray position.

“That’s shaving cream!” I yelled.

Luckily, he didn't shake the can enough, and hardly anything came out.

It’s a mistake anyone could make. As a product line, air freshener canisters just aren’t differentiated enough.

Presumably, that’s why Sara Lee and Henkel partnered to “Launch Innovation in the US” with “Revolutionary Air Freshener Insight.”

I know I do this a lot – but I have to ask, can someone tell me what “air freshener insight” is and what makes it “revolutionary?” More importantly, how exactly can you launch innovation in the United States?

“The innovation is based on the insight that people notice and enjoy complementary fragrances that change regularly much more than static, background smells,” reads the release.

“It's imperative to have an innovation strategy that creates a new dimension of performance and TriScents air freshener illustrates the spirit of innovation and collaboration," said Brad Casper, President and CEO-The Dial Corporation, A Henkel Company.

Quick buzz word roll call: innovation, imperative, innovation, strategy, innovation and collaboration.

Taking the lead from Sara Lee and Henkle, I've decided to launch my own innovation strategy – it’s based on personal insight to operate my residence bathroom without any collaboration from my father. In fact, it's imperative in creating a new dimension of performance.

What do running, online dating and my father have in common?

My father has this habit of answering rhetorical questions.

For instance, when my brother asked me to enter a six-mile race with him last spring, I said, “Maybe. The four-mile one wasn’t too bad. When I run, I just have to find my pace. I mean, six miles… four miles – what’s the difference?”

And my father answered, “Oh – two miles!” and shrugged.

But it seems a lot of people make that mistake. Like the folks at Incredimail who kicked off their latest press release with the following question:

“What do pocket protectors, protractors and slide rulers have to do with online romance?”

They answered, “These days, nothing!”

I hope whoever wrote that shrugged before continuing: “It used to be that only those thought of as geeks and nerds -- losers, if you will -- went online to find love. Now, it's better, faster, more economical and well, just easier to go online and find that potential mate.”

I agree with their approach. If I were promoting IncrediWorld, a new medium that encourages people to “look-up, meet-up and hook-up online,” I would definitely remind them that “losers” are likely users.

Oh, but who am I to say that, you know? Who am I?

No one!

Valentine Gift Ideas for under $90

I got the best Christmas gift from a misguided, but good-intentioned, co-worker this year. It was given to me covertly in the office break room minutes before our holiday party started.

“I wanted to give it to you here because I didn’t get anything for the rest of the team,” he told me as he handed me a rumpled plastic bag.

Guess what it was.

I’ll tell you what I was expecting – maybe a keepsake ornament or yet another Magic Scarf.

But go ahead and guess.

Did you guess thirty plastic take out containers from the Chinese restaurant on 3rd Avenue? Because that’s what it was.

He said, “When I picked up my beef and broccoli in one of these, I knew you would like them. I remember that I tried throwing yours out at lunch one time and you yelled at me.”

That’s true. I practically lunged across the park and ripped the container right out of his hands.

Then I stole a line from my father and said, “That’s still good!”

My father usually uses that to defend keeping things that are clearly broken – like a piece of rope from our severed clothesline.

“What the heck are you going to do with that?” I asked as the he picked up the rope from our backyard.

“This is a good rope!” he told me.

And then he fashioned it into a belt. Which he wore for three consecutive days.

When I swatted that Tupperware out of my co-worker's hand last summer, I know my father would have been proud.

And you know, as comical as it was to receive take-out containers for Christmas, as far as gifts go, they were certainly useful and dare I say, better than one of these.

Apparently The Vermont Teddy Bear Company, PajamaGram and Calyx Flowers are pushing the Cinderella-themed teddy bear as “just the gift to surprise a princess” for Valentine’s Day. It costs just $89.95.

Just imagine how many take out containers I could buy for $90.

And then think about how many pairs of shoes my father could make out of them!

E-A-G-L-E-What?

The Philadelphia Eagles went to the Superbowl three years ago. The day before the game, my parents came to the city.

“The Eagles haven’t won a Superbowl in I don’t know how long,” my father said at dinner. “I think the last game was in 1982… best thing that happened that year.”

“I was born in 1982,” I told him.

“Oh. Two good things!”

To recover, my mother decided to have the entire family do the Eagles cheer in the middle of the Chinese restaurant.

“Everyone take a letter,” she instructed. “I’ll start - E!”

“A!” I said.

“G!” my brother played along.

We looked at my father.

“What?” he asked.

We never finished the cheer that day, but my roommates and I did it about 30 times the next day at our Superbowl party. We made green margaritas and fashioned a football-shaped cake cut by hand from a very large sheet cake pan.

All in all, I think it would have made for a good submission for Heluva Good’s “Make Your Party a Heluva Good!(R) Party Big Game Contest.”

"We're looking for people who love Heluva Good products and who know how to have a Heluva Good time during their Big Game parties," said Lynne Bohan, Heluva Good spokesperson. "If you think your party is a Heluva Good party, there's a Heluva Good chance you'll win a Heluva Good trip to next year's Big Game."

Like our party's incessant cheering during the game, no amount of repetition in that quote could have improved things.

The Eagles lost and not even the football-shaped cake that we slapped together in the fourth quarter helped.

But there was always 1982 – that was a Heluva Good year.

Famous last words.

Growing up in Northeast Pennsylvania, my father would occasionally line up old bottles and cans in the woods and let me and my brother shoot at them with loaded guns.

One time, as I was leaning across the hood of our Dodge Raider, aiming at an old vanity light bulb propped on a rock 20 yards away, my father took the pistol out of my hands and said, “You’re holding it all crooked! You’re going to shoot the car!!”

And immediately after saying that, he of course shot the car – the bottom of the passenger door to be precise. He narrowly missed his own foot.

I was about nine at the time and I didn’t know what irony was, but I made a mental note that I was going to find that day really funny in about 15 years.

Given my history with firearms, I’m concerned that someone dubbed the “Millionaire Patriot” is providing a "Springfield Armory XD Pistol free of charge to the first 5,000 law-abiding citizens who take advantage of his offer.”

And if the release wasn’t enough - I’m especially concerned with the Front Sight Firearms Training Institute’s Web site banner, which seems to feature five photos of the Millionaire Patriot pretending to be a secret agent man.

He better hope that my father doesn’t find out about this offer – you know, for his car’s sake.

Conversation starters from my father.

As a teenager, I failed my driver’s license test on three separate occasions – the most notable of which was when the test administrator instructed me to pull over and told me, “Any time someone almost gives me a heart attack during the test, I automatically fail them.”

He was over-reacting. The car I had turned in front of a few seconds prior didn’t even honk.

But because I couldn’t drive myself, my mother had to drop me off and pick me up at all kinds of places, including the basement of my Catholic high school for a fall dance.

“Hey!” my dad shouted as I was heading out the front door. “NO DRUGS!”

“I don’t even drink soda,” I told him.

“I’m talking drugs,” he said. “They’re everywhere and don’t you do them!”

When we got in the car, my mother said, “I wish they’d stop playing those ‘Talk to your kids about drinking’ commercials. He just doesn’t get it.”

It’s too bad my father didn’t have access to The Partnership for a Drug-Free America’s TimeToTalk campaign.

“Parents can find helpful information, including TimeToTalk's latest tip, Five Teachable Moments on www.TimeToTalk.org. Five Teachable Moments is a tip sheet for parents who are having trouble talking with their teen about the risks of drug and alcohol use,” reads the release.

Yelling, “No drugs!” out the screen door was not one of the five teachable moments. But maybe it should be because it worked.

Coffee - cream and sugar... and cat poop.

To keep myself entertained as a teenager, I would play a game called “How much shit can I get Daddy to put in his coffee” at meal times.

As its name implies, the game centered on convincing my father to add unconventional items to his coffee. In its earliest stages, my mother would pay me $1 for the battles I won: mint ice cream, yogurt, sprinkles, whipped cream, chocolate syrup and strawberry preserves.

“This is getting ridiculous,” my mother told me. “I don’t think we should play any more.”

Of course, I was moving to college at that point and her change of heart seemed conveniently timed. Plus, when I came home for visits, she still played the game - she just didn’t pay me a dollar for the chocolate chip cookie, or crumb cake, or the butter. The possibilities were endless, really.

One year for Christmas, I received a tub of chocolate rice snack cookies.

“Do NOT ask your father to put those in his coffee,” my mother told me as I was opening the tub. “I mean it, not with the company here!”

But my father needed very little convincing to throw in a handful. And when they floated to the top of his cup like cereal in milk, I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh you’re up to something!” my dad yelled. “These aren’t for coffee. I don’t know why I listen to you!”

Trying to avoid a fight, my mother came into the room, picked up the tub and examined the label. “Yep, it says right here: May add to coffee or tea,” she pretended to read.

Then she pointed to the cartoon moose on the front of the package, “See, the moose is holding a coffee cup!”

“Oh, good,” my father said, satisfied with the explanation.

Later, as we were doing the dishes, my mother picked up a coffee cup and said, “You always know which cup is your father’s. It’s the one with all the shit on the bottom.”

Now, thanks to this WZZM video clip, I know how to take our game to the next level and see how much shit my father really will drink.

Melting my resolutions away.

One of my resolutions this past year was to get in shape.

“I’m going to run,” I told my brother. “I want to do a race.”

“You know you actually have to run those,” he told me. “Wait. Do you even know how to run?”

And when he saw how upset I got, he said, “Well seriously. Do you?”

Undeterred, my mother and I went to Dick’s Sporting Goods later that day and tried on the cheapest pair of running sneakers we could find. They were neon orange and for the first time in my life I said, “I don’t care what they look like, I just want them to fit,” to the sales clerk.

On our way out the door, we ran into my father and my brother, who were supposed to be clear across town picking out a new refrigerator, but somehow ended up at Dick’s looking for us.

“Hey! What you got there?” my dad asked and pointed at my bag.

“Running sneakers,” I told him.

“Running sneakers?!” he screeched. “You run?! Oh I gotta see this.”

Motivated by aggravation and pure spite I ran for miles each day over the next two weeks and I stopped only when my knee swelled so much that I couldn’t walk down stairs and part of the sole of my foot rubbed off and I had to limp.

But long story short - I kept the resolution. I even ran a 4 mile race in April and managed to get on the 11 o’clock local news. I was the girl who nearly ran into the camera man as I tried to avoid plowing over the person in front of me who tripped over a curb.

I was distracted because seconds before the race started my brother said to me, “Does your head ever pop?”

And I said, “What the heck are you talking about?”

And he said, “You know - like popping your knuckles, but in your head.”

“No, I don’t know.”

He shrugged. “Happens to me all the time.”

And then he took off sprinting while I shouted, “No seriously, you should get that checked out! That shit aint right!”

And that’s when someone else fell in my path, and I hopped over him - all while the news anchor taunted us with something like, “Oh watch, don’t trip!” on television.

But luckily I won’t have to put myself through that trauma again, thanks to a helpful New Year’s resolution suggestion from The Melting Pot.

“Rather than falling into the annual trap of resolving (and then failing) to lose weight, get out of debt or start to exercise, The Melting Pot agrees with recent polls conducted by General Nutrition Centers, Quicken and others that show that more than 50 percent of Americans vow to appreciate loved ones and spend more time with family and friends this year.”

Precisely. Who needs to pay their student loans when there’s a vat of cheese needing attention?

In keeping with this suggestion, I lugged out a fondue pot from the back of my closet, bought six types of vegetables and a Sterno can.

My girlfriends are coming over on Dec. 31 and this year’s theme is “New Year’s Cheese.”

Running can wait until 2009.

I once thought it was a good idea to threaten my boyfriend with the line, "I'm done calling you. When you want to talk to me, you can call me."

Apparently, he was done calling me too because I only heard from him once after that outburst and it was because his conscience forced him to return my copy of Strunk & White's Elements of Style.

I was living alone at the time and wasn't bothered too much by the break-up until later in the week when I tried to change a light bulb in my bathroom and ended up putting my arm right through the light fixture.

"I was trying to snap it into place!" I told my father over the phone.

"Oh, those don't snap on," he told me. "They might pop off, but they usually don't snap on."

Helpful advice like that is exactly why I called. Because while the damage in my bathroom was done, afterwards I tried to boil water and I noticed that the pilot light on my stove was out.

"Oh, you just have to re-light it," my father told me - and then explained in great detail how to take apart my oven range and get the burners back in working order.

But seeing as how my arm was already covered in band-aids, I decided not to risk doing anything that involved matches and just made the ravioli in the microwave - which might not have been too bad except that ten minutes later I couldn't get the jar of sauce open no matter how much hot water I poured over the lid.

"Don't you have a grippy thing?" my mother asked me.

No, I didn't. Because I never needed one until I got all hot-headed and broke up with myself.

But whatever - I made do with what I had and as I was sitting down at my coffee table to a delightful meal of cheese ravioli and margarine, I thought I deserved a glass of wine.

And in case you haven't picked up on the pattern yet, I couldn't really follow through on that idea because I didn't know how to open the bottle.

And sadly, I still don't know.

But I'll tell you what I do know, thanks to the good folks at Korbel Champagne Cellars: "Five Steps to Pop the Cork - Not Your Eye Out."

It's like the five easy steps in the release were written specifically for me - they even anticipated how I could possibly hurt myself in the process and addressed those concerns.

Maybe they can follow this release up with something like, "How to change a light bulb - And not end up in the Emergency Room."

While growing up, my father would regularly warn me not to bother bears.

“If you see a cub, don’t think, ‘Oh, it’s a cute little teddy bear’ and try to pick it up,” he explained. “The mother is liable to be around the corner and get you!”

This advice, of course, did not apply to him, as one morning on his way to work, he happened upon a large bear eating popcorn out of our garbage can. Being sensible, he clapped at it furiously and chased it into the woods.

But there must be plenty of people like that in the world because CSX Transportation issued a press release today titled “Residents Urged to Stay off Railroad Tracks, Reminded to Always Expect a Train.”

“That means walk, sit, ski or snowmobile somewhere other than railroad tracks and property…” the release warns.

In other words, the train is liable to be right around the corner and get you.

I hope my father is reading.

On one of my parents’ recent trips to the city, my father insisted that we go to Starbucks and get “those fancy chocolate coffees.”

While in line at the register, he twice announced, “Someone’s cell phone is ringing!” to the entire dining room.

He was preparing to make a third announcement, when the woman behind him tapped him on the shoulder, pointed to the phone clipped to his belt and said, “It’s yours.”

In similar fashion, Celine Dion’s troop issued the news release “Celine Dion and A New Day… Cast Make Final Curtain Call in Las Vegas,” not once, but twice – at both 10:55 a.m. on Dec. 15 and again at 10:45 a.m. on Dec. 16.

I can only assume that as she was preparing a third round, someone from the AP tapped her on the shoulder and said, “Enough. We’ll run it.”