Wednesday Wa Pic

Alas, it was lost on its maiden voyage, because it was just too absorbent.

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© George Waters, The Wa Blog

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Wednesday Wa Pic - "products you never knew existed" edition

An actual product. And a direct consequence, if you are not careful, of those boogie nights.

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© George Waters, The Wa Blog

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Wednesday Wa Pic - Spell it right, and live

 I wonder if this aisle includes roadside flaires.

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All pics shot by and © George Waters, The Wa Blog

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Wednesday Wa Pic - Let Davy Jones sort 'em out

 For when you just get tired of wrestling the varmints.

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© George Waters, The Wa Blog

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When your father's in your heart

There is no way to know where, or if, my father is now.

Well, one place I know he is for sure: my head. There he is, doing his "hocus-pocus-dominocus" trick for my nephew Mitch.

There he is in the basement of a halfway house for women where he volunteered, under a maze of leaking pipes, fixing them like a magician.

There he is, pulling me out of the hole I stepped in at the beach just as a wave went over my head.

There he is, sitting on the floor, his back against a wall, eating a sack lunch in a vacant apartment he owned and was painting.

There he is...walking my sister down the aisle at her wedding in the necktie she probably gave him for Father's Day a decade before. In his hospital bed, taking two long, last breaths. Handing my toddler sister baby chicks to play with. Applauding at my high school plays. Cheering at track meets. Wearing a tattered old Fedora against the rain. Jogging in place in the living room to rebuild his stamina after heart surgery.

There he is...diving in our frigid pool in the morning in order to "wake up." Choking back a sob when Edith Bunker died in "All in the Family." Riding our horse Billy, holding the reins with one hand like he was born to it. Wearing his "fun hat" (without which the fun simply could not begin) by the front gates of Buckingham Palace. Throwing my sister and me a football in the park during a road trip lunch stop.

There he is...chowing down on his favorite, a "chili size" at the local diner. Swimming out past the waves at Corona Del Mar. Pretending to like the annual Father's Day tie. Waking up in a sleeping bag next to me under a morning sky. Laying a new brick walkway to the house. Climbing trees to prune the branches.

There he is...riding on a Fourth of July float. Carving the Thanksgiving turkey and sampling it "for quality control." Walking the ancient Roman walls in York. Backpacking and camping out in the mountain chill and the desert heat with me and my Boy Scouts. Posing for family pictures with his six sisters and his brother. Laughing. Always laughing, big. Laughing to shake the roof off.

Forgive me, Dad, I was wrong. I know exactly where you are. Happy Father's Day.

See? The fun can now begin.

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Wednesday Wa Pic - A sign of the Renaissance

This is perhaps the most satisfying "To do" list I have ever seen. 

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© George Waters, The Wa Blog

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Bridal magazine inspires humor

June is the month for weddings, traditionally, I think because people want to be married before Independence Day rolls around, rendering their newfound lack of independence ironic.

I picked up a bridal magazine recently out of morbid curiosity, to see what they are trying to sell the unsuspecting brides of the 21st Century. The magazine was titled "BLI$$," or something to that effect.

Reading a bridal magazine, much like predicting the winner of "America's Next Top Model," is not something a straight man should ever do.

If space aliens came down from the sky and looked through a bridal magazine, they would come to the conclusion that the women of our species cannot stand upright without dramatically leaning against something for support.

They would also surmise that women's legs must each be about five feet thick, considering the amount of poofy cloth required to cover them.

The days of ads with a pretty bride posing in a pretty dress are gone, if they ever existed. Now the typical ad shows a young woman, a hand held to her head as if she has just been startled, while trying on a $3000 wedding gown, by a bull moose.

The obvious conclusion, of course, is that this is an Alaskan bridal shop.

Another ad shows a bride striking a pose before an open window with a sheen of sweat on her chest, as if this danged heat is about to drive her to jump.

Yet another has a pair of dejected-looking waifs with purposely slumped shoulders as if to express, "Yes, I am getting married today, but I am untraditional, and my new husband will need to understand that I am tired of fighting gravity."

Aliens would assume that brides are an unusually hairy and pasty-faced species, judging by the products being hyped. There is a "hydrating razor," "nude air foam" with "aerated pigments" to cover up blemishes, and another type of goo to help "unclog your pores" for the big day.

Some ads sell suits for men as well. In one, a lanky bestubbled hunk gazes into the distance grimly and grips his pinky finger as if the fate of the world depends on pinky pressure.

Or perhaps he is engaged to sweaty-woman. Perhaps his nervous gesture is purely concern for her welfare.

I imagine a whole universe in which these models scowl and slump into and out of relationships. Befoamed. Hydrated. Unclogged. And that is when I realized I had to put the magazine down and walk away.

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Wednesday Wa Pic - Irritable public spaces

 

I found this in Crankytown right across from Kvetch Korner.

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© George Waters, The Wa Blog

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How Venus's transit of the sun affects YOU

Tuesday Venus will visibly pass between Earth and the sun, affecting your personal horoscope in the following surprising ways:

Aries—Your native impulsiveness will cause you to tear the welder's glasses off a friend's face this Tuesday so that you can watch Venus transit the sun. This will not end well.

Taurus—You can be stubborn, and that is a good trait to have this week, because all kinds of people are going to try to tell you that seeing Venus transit the sun is worth missing "Judge Judy." There is a name for these kinds of people—"wrong."

Gemini—Adaptability has always been your strong suit, but seeing a planet punk the sun like this is really going to freak you out. Soothe yourself by wooing a Sagittarius.

Cancer—Your ruling planet is the moon, and the moon is not a planet, but go with me here. The moon will be overshadowed by all the publicity Venus is getting this week, which will make you sad. Find a kookaburra. Laugh with him.

Leo—You are fiery, self-assured and charming. Nobody likes that. Shut up about yourself for just five seconds, strap on some goggles and watch Venus already. Sheesh.

Virgo—Humane and gentle, you are dedicated to serving. All those people out staring at the sun are going to be thirsty. Howzabout you set down that rescue dog and whip up some Arnold Palmers?

Libra—Venus is your ruling planet, so you are bound to be excited by all the press she is getting this week. But keep that even keel you are so proud of, and a new relationship is likely to blossom. Don't wear yellow.

Scorpio—There is always a lot happening under the surface with you, Scorpio. Do you mind if I call you Scorpio? Anyway, I would suggest skipping the Venus transit altogether and dealing with those termite-laden stairs of yours. Call it a hunch.

Sagittarius—A Gemini will try to make time with you on Tuesday, but don't fall for it. Your broad-minded nature may tempt you, but stand firm. I mean, like, a Gemini? Seriously?

Capricorn—You are serious-minded, yet your symbol is a goat? Hmm. Watch the Venus transit online. Avoid pillows.

Aquarius—You are shy and quiet, yet boisterous and eccentric. You love water and take lots of baths. I don't know where I'm going with this.

Pisces—Compassionate, intuitive; you will be too busy with your aquarium to even notice the Venus hubbub this week. You alone, among all peoples, are blessed.

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Wednesday Wa Pic - the times we live in

 You know the culture has turned a corner when even mundane products throw attitude.

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© George Waters, The Wa Blog

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Wednesday Wa Pic - 75% up to off!

I sign maker new one get!

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© George Waters, The Wa Blog

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Wednesday Wa Pic - Universal edition

PLEASE DO NOT SIT ON MOUNTAINS.

O.K., it's an escalator warning sign at Universal Studios Hollywood, but I couldn't resist tilting it.

 

 Gotta wonder what horrible thing happened the last time somebody touched the gate that caused them to put up a sign. Perhaps, like this error I got on my computer, it is a...

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© George Waters, The Wa Blog

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Wednesday Wa Pic - Showoff edition

I have met a few, and this seems over-priced to me.

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© George Waters, The Wa Blog

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Wednesday Wa Pic - Glocks or God?

A guest pic! Shot by my wife during her stay in a Colorado hotel. 

Want to pack heat? It's that way. Want to get straight with your savior? Same way.

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© George Waters, The Wa Blog

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Wednesday Wa Pic - Hosed by politics

I am sick - SICK! - of my hardware store trying to legislate morality.

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© George Waters, The Wa Blog

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Wednesday Wa Pic - Blondes have more phun

I am not sure if they are trying to suggest blondes can't spell, or that she's one vowel short of angelhood. 

Their Web site offers no clarification, but does offer a pair of sequined short-shorts which seem to confirm it's not just a missing vowel which stands in the way.

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© George Waters, The Wa Blog

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Wednesday Wa Pic - Hyperbole in hose

Truthfully, the Guinness Book folks were not consulted, so this is strictly unofficial.

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© George Waters, The Wa Blog

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Wednesday Wa Pic - Snobs R Us

 They could just as easily have stenciled the words "All those who would like their cars 'keyed' while they shop, here's your spot."

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© George Waters, The Wa Blog

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Plagiarist Jeffrey resigns, uses "Um, define 'plagiarism'" defense

Steve Jeffrey has resigned as editor of The Anchor, a day after my original post showing proof of his plagiarism of articles by multiple writers over the course of the last year. I wish I could say for sure it was my post yesterday which made him decide it was time to go, but I doubt he ever saw it.

“I really don’t have any way to defend myself," Jeffrey told the Calgary Herald in an e-mail, "I did use articles for inspiration, but thought that I had changed the content enough to comply," after which his pants inexplicably caught fire and his nose grew as long as a telephone wire.

The first part of the sentence was true, however. There was no defense. No defense at all against side by side comparisons of other writers' original work and columns showing his co-opting of the same text, with miniscule alterations, under his own name.

I asked my 5th grader if he would ever turn a paper in to his teacher that was 95-100% somebody else's writing. "Are you kidding me, dad?" he replied.

Ah, youth.

Here is hoping Mr. Jeffrey finds success in a field other than journalism. I actually mean that sincerely. With his flair for verbal "spin," may I suggest a new career in politics?

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Have you no shame, sir?

"No, my pants aren't on fire," says Steve Jeffrey. "It's just a warm day."

Continued pressure was brought to bear on "Anchor" editor Steve Jeffrey after my column yesterday about his bold, blatant plagiarism of my writing and that of 13 other humor writers in the past year. 

The Telegram, a Newfoundland newspaper which has three writers among those 13, posted an in-depth story today which includes Jeffrey's comment that he "doesn't know" why the archive of 52 back issues of "The Anchor" suddenly went offline yesterday an hour after my links to them, clearly showing more than a dozen instances of his plagiarism, appeared.

If Steve Jeffrey had an employer, he would have been sent on his way already with a cardboard box full of family photos off his desk. But Jeffrey runs the paper. Best I can tell, he has no board of directors or a boss. A person of conscience, caught in so clear a violation of journalistic ethics, would resign.

If you were an editor and you were caught plagiarizing other writers, would you resign? Give me a number. Would you only resign if you were caught five times? Twenty? O.K., 40. Let's go 40. How about then? Give us a number, Mr. Jeffrey. Show us that conscience.

Since links to those archives have been removed from public view (which innocent people do, you know, when they want to clear the air), below I am posting three more examples from the backups I collected last week before breaking this story.

These are for any readers who did not think the two examples posted yesterday by Poynter.org writer Andrew Beaujon were damning enough.

Here is a link to my column, "Sick of standardized testing? Bubble THIS in," originally posted January 15, 2008. Click it, and it will open in a new window.

Then click below and compare my original to this clip of Jeffrey's column, which he printed in "The Anchor" on May 19, 2011:

Below is a link to a column by Laura B. Randolph from Ebony magazine, dated Dec. 1999: "The spirit of Crassness."

Click it open, then come back and compare it to Steve Jeffrey's rendition, "The night before Crassness" from Dec. 15, 2011. At the beginning he changes a few words, because Ms. Randolph's original clearly was written by a woman. But then it gets rolling on the straight-up copy-and-paste:

And how about a piece from Sheila Moss, from whom Mr. Jeffrey purloined 25 different columns. This one is called "The cat toy."

Compare that to Steve Jeffrey's version, "The Christmas cat toy," printed in "The Anchor" Dec. 29, 2011:

I know. I should probably have put up easier-to-read graphics, but you get the idea. 

In the Telegram interview I referenced earlier, Mr. Jeffrey said he "hasn’t copied anyone and that he's trying to 'figure it out.'" 

There are three copies above. Two copies on Poynter yesterday. Shall we go for 40? Give me a number, Mr. Jeffrey. Give me a number.

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Jeffrey resigned. Story here.

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