The Government Grant

I recently spent some time visiting my brother in law at his weekend retreat in Texas.

During this visit, I learned that my sister in law, during her college years, was responsible for the very efficient use and spending of our tax dollars.  How, you might ask?  Well, she was performing government funded 'research'.  Want to know what type of research?

Determining if male pigeons would care if they had sex with a stuffed female pigeon or a live one.

I am not kidding.

Now, I am not a scientist and I have no idea what if any redeeming social value this information might offer; but my question (and I am sure yours as well) would be....WHY?

In order to answer that question, we must first understand how the process worked.

Step one:  Get the male pigeon aroused.  I can't answer with any certainty how this would have been accomplished, but I can only assume it involved beer, playboy and cheerleader movies.
Step two:  Keep the male pigeon aroused while moving him to the 'test cage'.  This probably involved someone just talking dirty to the pigeon.
Step three:  Through a cleverly designed chute send the male either:  (1) A live female pigeon who had just had a good meal, some wine, some quiet conversation, and a walk on the beach.  In scientific terms, "her motor was running." -or-  (2) A stuffed pigeon that, as far as I could tell from looking at the pictures, looked pretty much the same as the live one.
Step four:  Start playing Mel Torme records and see what happens.

The 'test' was too see if the male would....what's the scientific word here......oh yea HUMP whatever fell through the chute.  I asked if, just to break up the monotony, they would send other things down the chute.  You know..... a teddy bear, Malibu Barbie, a squirrel.  I mean, if there was a need to see if the guy pigeon cared what he had sex with....give him some options.  I was told that, while a fine idea, it would have "altered the results". 

Apparently there is some great need to determine if a male is concerned if he scores with a real female or a fake one.  So my next thought was, if it's important to know if a male cares what he has sex with, perhaps a study of college students and blow up dolls would be more revealing; (especially if those males were Grand Masters of World of WarCraft or members of the Harry Potter Fan Club) and had access to large quantities of beer.

But that's not the end of it.  The test was just to see IF the male wanted to have sex....not actually let him HAVE sex.  So, what happened was the male was not allowed to.....again, what are the scientific words here.....oh yea, LAUNCH HIS BOTTLE ROCKET.  Just before that occurred, the process would be stopped by:

-Pulling the birds apart
-Yelling at the male "Her mother's coming, hide!"
-Having the female say lovingly to the male as he approaches her "I just love kids, don't you?"
-Shining a flashlight on them while in a gruff voice saying "What are you kids doing in there?"

Once separated, the female would be sent back to the 'holding cage' where she would watch The View, phone all her girlfriends to talk about what happened, and eat ice scream.  The male would sulk off to another room where he would become deeply involved watching a ping pong match between two Chinese nationals.....then be given a cold shower.

Careful notes would be taken with such things as:
1.  Did the male care about her needs?
2.  Did the male care she was (or was not ) alive?
3.  Did the female want to cuddle first, and did the male respond?
4.  Did the male promise to "call the next day".....even to the fake one?
5.  Did the male prefer blond female pigeons?

There is actually a published paper on this study.  Suffice it to say that the results were eagerly accepted by the scientific community....much like you or I would eagerly accept a toothache.  I don't know what the findings were, but I can imagine they'd be something like this:

Case Study L-Texas-49Q
Horny Pigeons

Overview / Process:
We took several male pigeons, got them drunk, and tested whether it mattered if they had sex with a live pigeon or a fake one.

Results:
Nope...didn't matter


Our tax money paid for this information.


**As a footnote, I am not lessening anything my sister in law did during her college years to become the professional she is today.  I say this because she is a wonderful person, a great doctor, and she has no qualms about giving you an enema using pvc pipe and a pressure washer....not the kind of person you want mad at you. 

Weekends

I have three kids, and I could not trade them for anything.  Really, I've tried...no luck.  I am kidding of course.  Anyway, having kids means they must be entertained...and not the way we were when we were young.  Saturday mornings were different when I was young.  We'd wake up around 8am or so.... our parents, of course, would still be asleep...."and by God don't your DARE wake us up".  Toast for breakfast, cartoons till noon, then outside till the street lights came on.  Cartoons back then were classic lessons in life and the challenges facing people everyday.  For example:

RoadRunner. 
The ultimate lesson is patience and stupidity.  I cannot tell you how many Saturday afternoons I spend trying to build a rocket to strap to my ass so I could fly down the street in a blaze of glory.  I never chased anything (unless you count the dog), but I learned valuable lessons in patience, chemistry and wound care. 

Huckleberry Hound
I think he was on some powerful drugs.  Really, think about it for a second.  Droopy eyes, slow drawl, kind of dragging his feet when he walked.....what a role model. 

Top Cat
All this guy ever did was scam his way into things.  Oh sure, at the end it never worked out and that cretin policeman always made sure 'TC' learned his lesson....but we'd watch and in our minds think of ways to make the scam successful.  Basically, it taught kids how to cheat.

Speed Racer
Driving lessons I still use today

Today, kids need 'stimulation' and 'guidance' to become better thinkers and problem solvers.  Really?  When I was young, my 'stimulation' came in the form of my mothers shoe hurling at warp velocity towards me while my mom forcefully (but lovingly) told me to 'get out of the house!'.  My 'guidance' was my Dad standing at the front door and very calmly saying "you get arrested don't waste your one call on me because I'm not coming to get you.  you end up in jail, stay there and learn your lesson."  It is these things that have made me the person I am today.

So, in order to 'stimulate' our children, Saturday mornings involve elaborate stage productions that not only entertain and teach life lessons....they relieve you of several hundred dollars.  Wonderful productions such as:

Elmo's Magic Colon
Barney gets an X-Ray
The Wiggles get Evicted
Disney's Princess Temper Tantrum....on ice
Andy the Armadillo and the Traffic Jam

If you have not attended one of these "events", let me set the stage for you.

You enter the auditorium to the wonderful sound of several hundred shrieking kids.  Seriously, they are EVERYWHERE and they are all screaming.  They are running around, falling down, punching each other...it's a scene out of the movie Children of the Corn.  In the midst of all this you see the parents.  Mom is sitting calmly watching with love while little Rupert runs head first into the chair in front of her.  "Be careful dear", she will smile and tell him while wiping the blood off his face.  Rupert will respond with a scream at a volume that could shatter glass and run off to harm himself in some other fashion.  Dad is sitting next to mom holding in his lap a "Kids Party Pack".  $75 worth of cold drinks, hot dogs, popcorn, candy, and ice cream that little precious Rupert had to have the second he walked in....and has not touched since it was purchased.

The lights dim....and the show starts.

Depending upon what show you are seeing, various characters come bouncing on the stage.  These characters are wearing costumes that, prior to this production, were used by the Soviet Army during the Chernobyl disaster.  Disfigured vegetables, farm animals, office supplies, space aliens, and small furry woodland creatures come out on stage and begin to 'dance'.  Of course, because all the children have waited for this moment to see their favorite characters they do what any kid would do.....they scream in fear, begin to cry and run in the opposite direction.  The moms get up and calm them down with a smile and assurance the mutants on the stage are their friends. 

Now, at this point I have to interject my biggest gripe with these 'shows'.  Knowing that most Dad's would rather do anything....I mean anything...even go dress shopping with his wife....than be at this show, why do the characters pick the Dad to mess with?  You know.... rub his head with some disfigured appendage that is shedding blue feathers everywhere, pull him out of the chair (spilling the Kids Party Pack) and dancing around him, make funny gestures over this head.  There is your lesson in patience.....watching Dad smile calmly while this cretin dressed as a mothball runs around him.  If it wasn't illegal I'm sure many of these characters would end up dead on the floor....with an uneaten Kids Party Pack shoved down its throat.

So, it's 60 minutes of songs and dancing....all with life lessons.  Songs such as:

Don't pick your nose in front of Aunt Rose
Think, don't drink what's under the sink
Don't be in a rush....remember to flush

The show ends, Mom takes Rupert to the Souvenir Stand for...God only knows why....a CD version of the show and a $30 stuffed mutant toy.  Then it's 45 minutes in traffic and back home...only to hear the music from the show 6,789 times during the next 24 hours....after which it will never be played again.

Hopefully this 'stimulation' and 'guidance' will help our children discover new and exciting things....like how to exile or imprison the people who think up these stupid shows.