Friday, 26 August 2016

Helloooo Newman: Musings and Woes

Helloooo Newman: Musings and Woes: René Descartes, of "I Think, Therefore I Am" fame, is covering a Who song. I know, I thought René was dead too. He's ...

Musings and Woes



René Descartes, of "I Think, Therefore I Am" fame, is covering a Who song.

I know, I thought René was dead too.

He's covering Who Are You?

It's called, Who Am I?

Find it on whoamiTunes.

Helloooo Newman: Carpe Yesterday

Helloooo Newman: Carpe Yesterday: Robin Williams (RIP) in Dead Poets Society , where he popularized the term Carpe Diem I need a new life philosophy, pronto ! The old o...

Carpe Yesterday

Robin Williams (RIP) in Dead Poets Society, where he popularized the term Carpe Diem


I need a new life philosophy, pronto! The old one, drink until everything seems awesome, doesn't work anymore. I want something I can pull out of my back pocket to get me through those times when life seems meaningless and the personal challenges pile up.

A friend suggested Carpe Diem. Carpe Diem? Thanks, but I don't like fish.

Carpe Diem is Latin for "Seize the Day". That feels "wisey" and hopeful. Except I'm confused about it.

First off, it doesn't specify which day to seize. Is it Monday morning at work, when I want to seize all the "water cooler" people and strangle them? It damn well better not be while I'm binge-watching, during which I enjoy my most productive t.v. and sofa time. And forget my birthday. I'm a year older and the only seize in my day will be a seizure.

What's the word "seize" doing in a life philosophy? I use this word when the government "seizes" my assets or the bank "seizes" my house. What am I, the calendar cop? Hey "today", you're under arrest. Keep that up and you'll be yesterday's news.

If by "the day" it means the current day, that just doesn't work for me. I'm too busy doing other shit, like eating, drinking coffee and napping.

I'm more comfortable with Carpe Yesterday, or Seize Yesterday. It's much easier to seize yesterday because it's already happened and I know where it is. It's probably not expecting me so I can seize it much more quickly. As far as days go, yesterday beats today because yesterday, all my troubles seem so far away. Go ahead and quote me on that.

Yesterday must be tired. I know I am after a full day of activities. Yesterday is so tired I can jump it, tie it up and keep it prisoner until I'm psyched for the actual seizing part.

The best thing about yesterday is that it's impossible to reach, so I don't really have to do anything, except sit around and type words.

Carpe Tomorrow is even better. I can take the entire current day to plan my seizure. Better still is Carpe Next Year because then I can take an entire year to think about it. Sure, some people call that procrastination, but I don't listen to the haters.

Then I hit upon a new and exciting idea…

Carpe Per Diem or "Seize the Money Every Day".

Forget philosophy. I'll take money in my back pocket.

Wednesday, 24 August 2016

Helloooo Newman: Waiting For the Dust to Settle

Helloooo Newman: Waiting For the Dust to Settle: A major area of strife in our household revolves around cleaning. I never stop cleaning and my wife never stops asking for things to b...

Waiting For the Dust to Settle

Look closely and you can see my wife and I arguing in the top left corner


A major area of strife in our household revolves around cleaning.

I never stop cleaning and my wife never stops asking for things to be cleaner. It's the very essence of perpetual motion.

"Dust is our enemy". This is a quote from my wife. The elimination of every dust particle is a goal my wife has had since she was an infant.

One day I decided to fight back. Mistakes happen in this world like, say, starting WWIII.

"Honey, I was reading my astronomy book last night and you know what it said? It said we live in the Milky Way, a rotating barred spiral galaxy full of stars, gas and dust that is 100,000 light years wide. Did you hear that? DUST. That's a lot of dust, sweetie. Some of it is bound to make its way into our bedroom, don't you think?"

I am hiding in the basement fridge, waiting for the dust to settle.

Monday, 22 August 2016

Helloooo Newman: Prayer Breakfast

Helloooo Newman: Prayer Breakfast: What exactly is a prayer breakfast? This is an activity American politicians love to attend. Is this everyone's chance to collecti...

Prayer Breakfast



What exactly is a prayer breakfast? This is an activity American politicians love to attend.

Is this everyone's chance to collectively thank God for the fact that bacon tastes so damn good? This being the same bacon that God uses to give you heart disease.

Praise be to bacon

Where are the meetings? iHop? Nothing says God like an iHop breakfast. Maybe people read Bible quotes at these get-togethers, like, "and the Lord said, let there be 1001 types of pancakes."

Who decided that, while praying, it's a good idea to consume 5000 calories? I think it's because the average American was born with a greasy spoon in their mouth.

I'd really like to attend one of these holy events because I have some prayers to get out of my system. Here's one: Dear God, why can't my life be like my eggs, over easy? Or sunny-side-up! Just not scrambled. I always wish for more bacon but I've never escalated the wish to an official request, a prayer to God. That's why I only ever get 3 pieces.

Praise be to bacon

Is it possible to get a Rosary with bacon bits instead of beads?

Praise be to bacon

What kind of God takes prayers early in the morning anyway? Not my God! He doesn't open til 9:30 a.m., and takes off early on Friday. By the way, He's a She. Pretty smart God. Whenever She gets down, I say to Her, "You go, God."

Here's a fact about fat. Drop the 'c' in "fact" and you get "fat". And 'c' starts the word calories.

God starts with a "G". "G" also starts the word "good", like bacon is sooooooo ooooh good.

Fact. Fat. Calories. God. Good. Bacon.

Does this religion make me look fat?

Let's pray together. But first, pass the syrup.

Wednesday, 17 August 2016

Helloooo Newman: Human Rearing

Helloooo Newman: Human Rearing: I think the term childrearing is insufficient in describing the raising of an entire human being. For example, the headaches and nigh...

Human Rearing



I think the term child-rearing is insufficient in describing the raising of an entire human being.

For example, the headaches and nightmares of raising a toddler pale in comparison to dealing with a teenager.

Teens are so clinically insane that they deserve their own term: teen-rearing.

This makes great sense to me. Especially the "rearing" part. Rearing actually applies to all stages of life: you have to wipe a toddler's rear, you have to kick a teen's rear, and then back to the wipe for an elder's rear.

In regards to raising a teen, society has the rearing part all wrong.

I am a champion of cryogenic-rearing. This is based on the scientific evidence that a teen's brain goes loopy until age 25.

All teenagers, on the day after their 13th birthday, should report to a cryogenic freezing chamber, where they will be frozen until age 25, at which time they can be thawed and released into the world.

I might slip a few beers in there too so they stay cold.

Tuesday, 16 August 2016

Helloooo Newman: Beyond the Pole

Helloooo Newman: Beyond the Pole: I was in Rio yesterday taking in some of the exciting Olympic events. I think my favourite event was the pole vault dancing . Boy, tho...

Beyond the Pole



I was in Rio yesterday taking in some of the exciting Olympic events.

I think my favourite event was the pole vault dancing. I think it's a new event. Boy, those dedicated athletes work that pole like it's an after-dinner toothpick rolling around in their mouth. A toothpick that's up to 17 feet long.

A few strange things about the event, though.

It didn't take place in some phantasmagorical stadium paid for with millions of tax dollars confiscated from dirt-poor residents. It was a smokey, badly lit room called the Sphincter Fluctuation Arena. Not a very Olympic-ish name.

The uniforms were strange. There weren't any, except for a thin piece of fabric around the groin area, which conspicuously looked like a g-string, or maybe it was a flag shape. I guess the athletes didn't like their new uniforms because they ended up taking them off half way through the competition. Was this some kind of doping protest? I kept the one that landed on my face. Cool. A free Olympic memento.

Despite having already paid for my event ticket, I was annoyed that the athletes kept asking me for $5 bills. I guess they need to eat too, but why couldn't I place the money in their hands?

I expected to see a row of judges from various countries, but it was just one unsightly behemoth whose face reminisced a half-digested skirt steak. On his t-shirt were the words "Sternum Buster". I couldn't imagine all that cigar smoke was good for the athletes. It seemed some payoffs were going on, as the athletes lined up in front of this man and surrendered some of their hard-earned bills. I reported it to the proper authorities.

The women outshone the men, but I'm biased in that way. A woman named Trix Arformen got the gold. She's a native Brazilian with a brazilian who was born and raised in a dumpster by the river until she realized her dreams on the pole.

Overall an excellent Olympics.

Monday, 15 August 2016

Helloooo Newman: Excess Baggage

Helloooo Newman: Excess Baggage: I picture the English language like a huge suitcase and it's packed with all kinds of unnecessary and confusing words. Someone needs...

Excess Baggage



I picture the English language like a huge suitcase and it's packed with all kinds of unnecessary and confusing words. Someone needs to go through that suitcase, throw a bunch of stuff out and do some repacking.

English leads to all kinds of misunderstandings.

I was on my way to Vegas with a friend and he said, "You carry around a lot of baggage, don't you!"

"You mean MY luggage?" It was on wheels so I was confused. All I actually carried was my passport.

One suitcase seemed reasonable to me. I'm a pretty light packer, even for a man. Couple of white t-shirts, which have never felt the warm embrace of an iron, shorts, socks, underwear, toothbrush, deodorant – the basics. It all fits into a plastic grocery bag but I don't want to look like a terrorist so I stick it in a tiny suitcase.

I figured the baggage, or luggage, comment was off the mark. He continued. "You gotta lose some of that baggage if we're gonna get along. You're an adult now. Time to grow up."

What the hell? Was he worried I would outshine him on the strip in my crumpled t-shirt and knee-high gym socks? Maybe he needed to grow up.

On my last trip the airline lost my baggage. Ugh, what a disaster. My only t-shirt was getting seriously wrinkly, even for me. It looked like Dog the Bounty Hunter, if he were a t-shirt. Smelled like it too. I guess my friend was suggesting that when the airline found my baggage and returned it to me, I should have refused it. But why?

Then it hit me. As we approached Customs, I remembered that when people use the word "baggage", they mean emotional baggage. What a dolt I was.

It never really occurred to me that I have a lot of baggage from my childhood. Maybe this was a good time to unload it all.

I was deep in thought about this when I got an even bigger shock. The Customs official, who I've never met before, also knew about my excess baggage.

"Did you pack this baggage yourself?", he asked.

I hesitated. Better not lie. That's a crime. Is this guy a trained therapist?

"No, my parents did while I was a kid. I just carry it around with me. I'm sorry. I didn't realize I had so much."

"Your parents? Open it, please."

I was aghast. I wasn't ready to confront my childhood issues, and certainly not in front of a stranger in an airport, across from a Wimpy's burger joint. I at least needed some kind of conversion therapy, or maybe one of those Luminosity tests that transform people into better humans.

"Could we do this later? Maybe I can make an appointment with a doctor?"

"Are you hiding something?", he asked.

"Yes. Yes I am. My parents fought all the time. Mom threw dad's clothes out the window one time. "GET OUT OF THE HOUSE", she screamed. I was in the middle of it all. I got so angry. I'm so sorry. I've carried it around for so long. I didn't mean to bring it here."

He opened my tiny suitcase and threw a quick glance. "You can go. And get some help, will ya?"

"Yes. Yes I will. Thank you sir. It's time to unpack my baggage."

Sunday, 14 August 2016

Helloooo Newman: Musings and Woes

Helloooo Newman: Musings and Woes: How come when a man stays at home to take care of the kids and house he's always called a stay-at-home dad , but when a woman does t...

Musings and Woes



How come when a man stays at home to take care of the kids and house he's always called a stay-at-home dad, but when a woman does the same she's often called a homemaker?

I doubt even the most enlightened man in the world would settle for homemaker. Any man having that word attached to him would see his testicles shoot up his throat, out his mouth and looking for a good manly job.

It's just a silly word, and completely inaccurate as well.

I don't mind being called a homemaker, because I do stay at home, but I didn't make my home. Slaves making 2-cents an hour made it in the dirty 30s. They're probably buried in the backyard. Let's acknowledge that.

I'm a homedweller. Or, a stay-at-home-made-by-slaves-for-2-cents-an-hour-and-buried-in-the-backyard dad.

Homemaker is no longer in my vocab.

Helloooo Newman: Clean and Jerk

Helloooo Newman: Clean and Jerk: Every day this week I've been admiring the Clean and Jerk. For teenage readers, this is not to be confused with the jerk-off and c...

Clean and Jerk



Every day this week I've been admiring the Clean and Jerk.

For teenage readers, this is not to be confused with the jerk-off and clean-up. For more info, please visit my other site: Teen Issues Involving Tissues.

The Clean and Jerk is the weightlifting event at the Olympics. Professional weightlifters lift, on average, about 175 kilograms (386 pounds).

Wow, that is impressive. I bet you didn't know I tried out to be an Olympic weightlifter.

How can that be, you ask? I'm the guy who buys my beer in six-packs because the twofer is two times too heavy.

I have a system. And it would have worked, if the Olympic officials weren't so fussy.

I'm sure you've all heard those stories of people who lift an entire car to free their trapped baby, who's lollygagging under the tires. Somewhere deep inside themselves they find the strength of ten Clean and Jerks and heave the car up to rescue little Junior.

So I visited the Olympic Officials:

Me: I want the Clean and Jerk.

Official: Well, sir, usually we don't let people enter who weigh less than the bar that holds the weights.

Me: I have a system.

Official: I see, And what is it?

Me: I'll need a live baby.

Official: I beggin' your pardon, sir?

Me: A live baby. To put under the weights. I see the baby, panic, naturally I want to save it, lift the weights, win the competition.

Official: Ah. A wonderful idea. Unfortunately no one under 16, or trapped under heavy weights, is allowed to compete.

Me: Jerk!


Saturday, 13 August 2016

Helloooo Newman: Invention Theft

Helloooo Newman: Invention Theft: I realize I’m dating myself here, but does anyone remember the potato gun, also called the spud gun?  (see above) One would punct...

Invention Theft



I realize I’m dating myself here, but does anyone remember the potato gun, also called the spud gun? (see above)

One would puncture a potato with the tip of the gun and put the resulting tiny potato piece in the “chamber” and fire it with compressed air.

Well, that was originally my invention and it was stolen from me.

Okay, not quite that invention precisely.

My idea was the mashed potato gun. It had operational difficulties. The mashed potato kept getting stuck in the chamber, or the tip, or it would get all over my clothes. All the butter on the potatoes meant the gun kept slipping out of my hands. Obviously I couldn’t enjoy my mashed potatoes without a nice juicy steak but that became so expensive.

I then tried the scalloped potato gun. The scalloped potatoes, being large and round, would not fit in the gun, plus I loved eating them so I ran out of ammo pretty quickly.

Au Gratin Potatoes? Same thing.

For the southern states, I wanted to introduce the hash brown gun. Way too big for the gun, and greasy. Maybe you could fire it from a surface-to-air hash brown launcher, but my mom wouldn’t let me build one of those.

Time to move on to another type of weapon.

I developed the french fry bow and arrow. I liked my french fries ultra crispy and covered in ketchup, so when I fired a test weapon at a friend, it broke skin and the ketchup made it look like a mortal wound. Back to the drawing board.

I’m still working on this so no more stealing.

Friday, 12 August 2016

Helloooo Newman: A Rare Astronomical Event

Helloooo Newman: A Rare Astronomical Event: During the night of the Perseid meteor shower, a very rare and awe-inspiring event took place. Scientists and astronomers across the ...

A Rare Astronomical Event




During the night of the Perseid meteor shower, a very rare and awe-inspiring event took place.

Scientists and astronomers across the globe were astounded that it actually occurred. No scientific theory or equation predicted it.

Forget the Higgs Boson. This was BIG.

The ramifications will be felt throughout human history for some time to come.

The event: I actually got my ass out of bed during the night to watch the Perseid shower.

3:30 a.m.: My alarm clock repeatedly punched me in the face. "PAUL. THE SHOWER. GET UP."

I peeled my face off the pillow, pulled my underwear down from my shoulders and crawled, navy seal-style, to my cottage dock. Okay, that could also have been vodka-consuming style.

I looked up to behold the perplexing universe. I was so insignificant. What does it all mean?

The universe answered me with…a heavy rain storm.

Not a mother fucking meteor in sight.

I swam back to bed.

That is all.

Wednesday, 10 August 2016

Helloooo Newman: Workaholic

Helloooo Newman: Workaholic: Marissa Mayer, CEO of Yahoo! Society looks down on workaholism but I actually wish I was a workaholic. I'm more of a work alcohol...

Workaholic

Marissa Mayer, CEO of Yahoo!

Society looks down on workaholism but I actually wish I was a workaholic.

I'm more of a work alcoholic. Drinking while I work turns me into a napaholic, plus I suffer from napolepsy.

Not much gets done around me.

I figure I would rule the world if I worked as hard as Marissa Mayer does. While at Google, she worked 130 hours a week.

If you Google "Hard Work" you will not see a picture of Marissa because she was too busy to show up on picture day.

On her off time, Marissa works from home, with the actual work week totalling 167 hours. Ah, but you say, there are 168 hours in a week. What does Mrs. Lazy Bones do for that one hour? It's used for the inconveniences of life: blinking, breathing, flossing, bathroom breaks, makeup application. Showers are taken at the car wash.

Every week, Marissa was declared employee of the year. If people stood beside her for 5 minutes, their work would be done too.

She's not religious, but even God felt the need to have a word with her. "Marissa, yer making me look bad. Even I took Sunday off."

One night, pregnant and working a 24-hour and 11 minute day (the earth's rotation had slowed slightly, so that day went to 11), Marissa noticed her water broke. Out came smart water, obviously. She rushed to the office photocopier to lie down and give birth, accidentally pressed the copy button and out of the tray slid her baby's twin. Her mat leave consisted of, "Get a wet vac in here and tell the Board I'll be two minutes late."

Her adorable twins, pushing 9 months old, now work 80 hours a week and look forward to meeting their mother some day.

A new term has been coined in the twin's honour: stay-at-work mom.

Asked to comment for this blog, Marissa said, "You Yahoo!"

I'll drink to that, once I finally get to work.

Tuesday, 9 August 2016

Helloooo Newman: Heavy Petting

Helloooo Newman: Heavy Petting: I met a friend's dog for the second time and was already petting his groin. Things move so fast with some dogs. One shake of t...

Heavy Petting



I met a friend's dog for the second time and was already petting his groin.

Things move so fast with some dogs.

One shake of the paw and then his legs spread open like a split ham and I began rubbing the area formerly known as his testicles.

No oils or special equipment. People call me "Piano Hands" but this was not piano playing. This was different. This was the delicate plucking of a harp. Breaking in a Stradivarius.

Observing the human faces around, you would not conclude I was stroking a stranger's genitalia in public. One even admired my stroking technique. "You're so good with him." Did they want the same treatment?

It's unfortunate you can't really do this with people, like, say, someone's wife.

"Hey Marv. Cute wife. So obedient. Do you think she'll let me rub her groin?"

"Well, she does sleep on her back. Maybe you should wait til she offers it up."

Humans get all touchy with their genitals, as if they are, like, private parts.

We have so much to learn from our pets.

Monday, 8 August 2016

Helloooo Newman: Colon:oscopy

Helloooo Newman: Colon:oscopy: People think writing this blog is easy as cake. A piece of pie. "Oh boy, another stupid Newman blog. How long were you on the toil...

Colon:oscopy


People think writing this blog is easy as cake. A piece of pie.

"Oh boy, another stupid Newman blog. How long were you on the toilet writing this one?"

Easy my ass! (no, not on the toilet)

Was the above the correct deployment of the bracket? Is there a period after the bracket? Should I italicize it?

These are the kinds of problems I dropkick every day.

To make or break YOUR day.

Punktuation is mean. It's hard. My Sisyphean struggle.

When do I use the colon? The semicolon?

Last week I had all my articles subjected to a colon:oscopy.

I passed mustard.

I mean, they passed muster.

Colon:oscopy. TMI? Now I feel like an ass. It's not your fault I work so hard for perfection.

Sorry.

Thanks for reading.

I like Newman's blog because: (insert series of items)

Helloooo Newman: Musings and Woes

Helloooo Newman: Musings and Woes: I think Justin Trudeau and Vlad Putin are getting ready to take a Perseid meteor shower together.  The Perseid meteor shower arriv...

Musings and Woes






I think Justin Trudeau and Vlad Putin are getting ready to take a Perseid meteor shower together. 
The Perseid meteor shower arrives on Thursday.




Saturday, 6 August 2016

Helloooo Newman: At a Theatre Near You

Helloooo Newman: At a Theatre Near You: I'm inventing a new movie genre combining comedy and drama , and it's called the Comma , because the goal is to leave you unsati...

At a Theatre Near You


I'm inventing a new movie genre combining comedy and drama, and it's called the Comma, because the goal is to leave you unsatisfied, wanting more, as if there's other important stuff to follow, some of it funny, and you'll keep coming back and watching it and I'll make lots of money in ticket sales, become rich and lead a much happier life than you until I, like,

die, or,

if you don't like drama, you can watch my commadies, where the laughter always come after the ,

and wait, there's more,

Wednesday, 3 August 2016

Helloooo Newman: Musings and Woes

Helloooo Newman: Musings and Woes: Hey, stop licking my blog In Canada, cars are officially no longer impounded. There are imkilogrammed. You get your dog at the D...

Musings and Woes

Hey, stop licking my blog



In Canada, cars are officially no longer impounded.

There are imkilogrammed.

You get your dog at the Dog Kilogram.

You don't pound a beer down, you kilogram it down. That's less beer.

You'll be happy to know that when looking for a job, you no longer have to pound the pavement, you kilometre it. That's shorter.

No, you don't "kilogram the pavement". That's just stupid.

The phrase, "In for a penny, in for a pound" is banned, since the penny and the pound are gone.

I suggest, "In for an e-transfer, in for a kilogram".

I was thinking "In for a rounding off to the lowest cost that benefits the consumer in light of the fact that pennies are no longer accepted, in for a kilogram", but that's just too clunky.

Helloooo Newman: Musings and Woes

Helloooo Newman: Musings and Woes: When police stop you in your car and do a background check, can you still have a record ? Maybe it should be a cd . But even that's...

Musings and Woes


When police stop you in your car and do a background check, can you still have a record?

Maybe it should be a cd. But even that's outdated.

How about a thumb drive?

"Wow, this guy has a thumb drive as long as my arm."

Ideally, I think it's an app.

"This guy's app sheet is loaded."

Whatever it's called, don't get shot.

Helloooo Newman: Musings and Woes

Helloooo Newman: Musings and Woes: If Canada is a country (and it is, so far) , why do we call where I am now "cottage country"? I didn't need my passport a...

Musings and Woes


If Canada is a country (and it is, so far), why do we call where I am now "cottage country"?

I didn't need my passport and there's no standing army. Although, around here the army would probably be a "sitting on the dock finding shapes in the clouds" army.

We should change it to "urban" and "rural" regions.

Except…I just tried saying "rural region" and it's too hard. Must be the vodka and Liquid-Plumr mixer.

Maybe just "up here" and "down there".

Monday, 1 August 2016

Helloooo Newman: Musing and Woes

Helloooo Newman: Musing and Woes: They say there are two certainties in life: death and paying taxes. But I got a tax refund this year. So, how about it, Mr. Death. ...

Musing and Woes



They say there are two certainties in life: death and paying taxes.

But I got a tax refund this year.

So, how about it, Mr. Death.

Can we postpone a year?

Sunday, 31 July 2016

Helloooo Newman: Musings and Woes

Helloooo Newman: Musings and Woes: We winterize a cottage but we never summerize a cottage. I can summerize my cottage in one word: FUN I love playing on the seesaw. I...

Musings and Woes



We winterize a cottage but we never summerize a cottage. I can summerize my cottage in one word: FUN



I love playing on the seesaw. I love it so much, I think we should have the same ride for the other four human senses:
• the hearheard
• the tastetasted
• the touchtouched (aka the feelfelt)
• the smellsmelled

Hey Billy. Wanna play on the smellsmelled?



Deorderant: When you're at a restaurant, you order, then you cancel your order cuz your wife is on the way to the hospital having a baby, you have to de-order-ant.


Friday, 29 July 2016

Helloooo Newman: Uber Everywhere

Helloooo Newman: Uber Everywhere: Travis Bickle Uber Losers: When someone tells you you'll never get anywhere – call me. I'll take you somewhere. Uber Uber:  ...

Uber Everywhere

Travis Bickle

Uber Losers: When someone tells you you'll never get anywhere – call me. I'll take you somewhere.

Uber Uber: For Uber drivers who are too tired, drunk or hung over to drive – I'll tow you and your passenger behind my car.

Uber Real Estate: I'll drive the price of your house up.

Uber housewife: Husband not responding to your demands? His holy trinity is the sofa, sports and Sapporo? Call us. I'll drive him crazy with demands.

Uber Parking: Call me, I'll parallel park for you.

Uber Nascar: Relax. I'll pick you up in my car at the beginning of the course and take you right to the end. Oh, it's a Prius, so forget about winning.

Uber Ambulance: A comfortable, roomy ride to the hospital, unencumbered by all that bulky life-saving equipment. Quiet and relaxing, with none of that raucous yelling, like "CLEAR", "I.V., STAT" or "HE'S FLATLINED".

Go on. Get in. You can trust me.