How many of you ever use the calendars in blog sidebars? Do you look at them just to see what day it is? Do you ever use them to pull up the posts from such-and-such a date? Or just look to see how long ago it’s been since the last post? I keep debating whether that calendar is a service to my readers or just the eyesore I think it is. It’s also clutter. Maybe I’m the only one who even cares.

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Male readers, avert your eyes. This is directed at the gals. I went for my annual mammogram yesterday, at a nice shiny new hospital/medical complex instead of the sad little strip mall imaging center I’ve used since I moved here. I couldn’t help laughing as I stood there getting intimately acquainted with their machine; the brand name, in big block letters, was MAMMOMAT. ROFL. Imaging equipment like that must cost thousands of dollars and can be literally a life-and-death matter for many woman. Yet they call it a Mammomat!? I tried to reconcile that name with thoughts of humid laundromats, vendomats dispensing stale sandwiches, paper towel dispensers in grungy restrooms. What marketing fool decided to call that marvel of technology a Mammomat!? (Comic relief for a stressful moment, perhaps?) If I’d come up with that name, I’d have fired me. (Full disclosure: My college major was “journalism – advertising/business curriculum.”)

Driving home from every woman’s favorite date, I got to thinking — if a man did to you what that machine does to you, you’d probably kick him out of your life and might even (justifiably) file abuse charges. And following that train of thought: what if men, once a year, had to subject their junk to that kind of treatment? You wanna bet how fast a better method would be developed?

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The September equinox notwithstanding, fall is in the air here. The tips of some of the trees are starting to turn. Nights are dropping to 50°; the house is cool enough in the morning to contemplate turning on the heat for a few minutes, except that you’ll probably have the A/C on this afternoon. The local news people last night were already talking snow: this ski area already has its snowguns in place; that one plans to open by the end of the month. My son and I have discussed it and decided fall should officially begin the day after Labor Day, not September 22 or 23. School has started, football season is in full swing, the supermarket is selling chrysanthemums, the nights are crisp, summer vacation season is over. Despite what the calendar says, fall has arrived. And it’s always been my favorite season. Hurray!

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I finally got the dishes done and ran the dishwasher last night. So why can I still not find my kitchen countertop this morning … 🙁

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Aha, now there’s an interesting political reporter. Jack Greenberg is a 12-year-old just starting the 7th grade, and a member of the Scholastic Kids Press Corps. He attended last week’s Democratic Convention and now is at the Republican Convention. What a great opportunity for a bright young man. Not only has he been allowed on the floor at both venues, he has been admitted to at least one of the smaller delegate meetings to do interviews. I’ll bet very few of today’s adult journalists began their careers that way. Even if young Jack doesn’t become a journalist, what a great civics lesson he’s had. Despite all our complaints about today’s schools and educational system in general, there are bright spots out there. I wish we heard more about them and less about failing schools, striking teachers, guns in classrooms, drugs in hallways, truants on the streets, and all the other negative stuff that really, really depresses me. If we don’t have a decent educational system in this country, we don’t have squat. If we don’t do a great (not merely good or passable) job educating our next generation of scientists, civic leaders, business executives, doctors, teachers, engineers, and just plain citizens, we won’t have a future to worry about.

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Browsing the web for orange stuff for my header, I came across a picture of blood oranges. I’ve seen them in the supermarket and oranges are one of my favorite fruits. But I really am turned off by the name “blood orange.” You want me to eat that? Really? I may be missing out on the most divine orange on the face of the earth, but so far I’ve passed on the opportunity, thank you very much. It’s another branding thing, I suppose, sort of like the item above. If you develop a really delicious new orange, and you want people to buy it and try it and eat it and love it, why would you choose to call it a blood orange? I know it’s all red and juicy inside … uh, yeah … yuck. Why not ruby orange or fire orange or gala orange? But blood orange? Definitely not workin’ for me.