Jingle Jangle Jingle

Someone posted a list of the first line of old advertising jingles on FB the other day.

I was able to sing them all. 

This is not a surprise, given that I also know the theme songs to TV shows, like Top Cat, a cartoon from my childhood. My brain plays host to many of these worthless ditties. And while on some level I think it's pretty keen that I can remember them, on the other hand, I'd rather have an aptitude for remembering, say, important dates in history. Or how to change the settings on my phone. Or the name of that guy, you know, that guy...

Ah, well, I suppose we have to be happy with the gifts we're given, even though we may not find them terribly useful.

Maybe it's because commercial jingles were part of the soundtrack of my childhood. Or maybe because they were so stinkin' catchy. I can't think of many companies that use jingles anymore. Which I think is a pity, because they really did build brand awareness. If you don't believe me, ask someone of a certain age what's on a Big Mac.*

Anyhow, I thought it would be a lark to see if my reader(s) were interested in playing along. So here's a list of the jingles I picked up from that FB post, plus a few bonus ones just for kicks.

1. My bologna has a first name
2. I don't wanna grow up

3. Gimme a break, gimme a break

4. The best part of waking up

5. Sometimes you feel like a nut

6. I'd like to teach the world to sing

7. Reach out and touch someone

8. If you dare wear short shorts

9. They're magically delicious

10. Meow, meow, meow, meow

11. Plop, plop, fizz, fizz, oh what a relief it is

12. So kiss a little longer, hold hands a little longer

13. If you think it's butter, but it's not

14. Roll on, Big O (this is a local favorite)

15. Double your pleasure, double your fun

16. You deserve a break today

17. Mmm-mmm good, mmm-mmm-good

18. Be all you can be

19. What walks down stairs, alone or in pairs

20. A little dab'll do ya

Well, I hope you had fun. Let me know if you come up with any more to share with the class!

*Two all-beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions on a sesame seed bun.

Who's That Mascot?

"Slider reminds me of Baby Huey," I remarked recently on a chat with coworkers.

public domain image of wtf is this mascot

I am probably going to roast for saying this, but the Indians' mascot, who will remain with the team after it becomes the Guardians, is not my favorite: a big pink muppet with a nose like a furry casaba melon. I'm not sure if Slider or Phillie Phanatic came first, but I suspect they are somehow related. (Phillie, by the way, was at the top of the list of most popular mascots, according to NBC Sports.) 

To be fair, I'm not a fan of mascots at all. Many of them just seem creepy to me. I think about what's going on inside that suit, some sweaty person bounding around, cannoning t-shirts at fans and whipping small children into a frenzy, and I just can't muster a lot of affection. 

I do have one question: What prompts a team to take on a live mascot?

I thought it would be interesting to assemble a list of some of the more well-known mascots. Just to clarify, I'm only talking about the ones that are in a suit, so this doesn't include the Notre Dame Leprechaun or Georgia's real-life bulldog:

• OSU's Brutus Buckeye: This is one of the weirdest mascots, to be sure, considering a buckeye is an inanimate object. 

• Akron University's Zippy: Okay, I will concede this guy is pretty cute. Maybe because he reminds me of Saturday morning cartoon characters from my childhood.

• Padres' San Diego Chicken: This was listed as the second most popular mascot by NBC Sports. This giant chicken-headed mascot debuted in 1974. No cute factor here. Maybe it was KFC fans stuffing the ballot box?

• The Mets' Mr. Met: Not many points for name originality, but he is pretty cute. Also, he gets props for likely being one of the first MLB mascots, with roots that go back to 1963.

• Kansas City Royals' Sluggerrr: Apparently, they had to add the extra "rrr's" because this critter is supposed to have some kind of Lion King vibe. It loses its jungle cred, however, by having a built-in crown in its head. The crown looks like a series of upward-facing stalagtite-like tonsils – stalagtonsils? I can't imagine what illicit substance was present at the creation of this guy.

• Montreal Canadiens' Youppi!: Montreal's version of Slider, his name means "Yippee!" in French. Youppi! is a carryover from the Expos. 

So, why have a mascot? It's a way to bring kids to the ballpark, I suppose. That and the nachos. As an added bonus, kids can clamor over one another trying to get one of the free cheapo t-shirts the mascot shoots out of a cannon. The big kids can join in on this, too. Plus they have beer and selfies, so there's something for everyone at a professional sporting event. 

Besides, it's too loud to talk about the game with the person next to you. 

So what else are you going to do at a ballgame? 

I Laughed, I Cried

Several months ago, my D.C. brother-in-law (at our request) started sending us "Daily Dose" emails. Each one features a YouTube video of a comedian. Most are stand-up routines, although there are a few sketches and SNL snippets.

Used by permission:
JeanneRobertson.com

The humorist who quickly became one of our favorites was Jeanne Robertson, who  told stories about her life and her family. In particular, she talked about her husband, Jerry, whom she referred to as "Left Brain" and her son, Bailey (aka "Beaver").

We found out recently that Ms. Robertson passed away in August at the age of 77, two months after her husband (he was 83). 

Admittedly, I feel a bit cheated that we didn't know about Jeanne Robertson sooner. On the plus side, her comedy lives on, thanks to YouTube. (The internet isn't all bad.)

Although I learned a lot about Ms. Robertson from her videos, I thought I'd do my thing on the google and get the whole scoop.

In addition to being a humorist, Jeanne Flinn Swanner Robertson accomplished much during her time here:

    • Miss America North Carolina 1963 (also Miss Congeniality)

    • Basketball Player & Graduate, Auburn University 1967

    • Physical Education Teacher

    • Professional Speaker

    • Author of Three Books

    • Producer of Four Videos

    • Benefactor of Elan University (along with Left Brain)

As to her personal life, from which she garnered much of her humorous material, she married her first husband in 1965 with whom she had her son, Bailey Bowline. The couple divorced in the early 1970s, and she married Jerry Robertson in 1974. Ms. Robertson has two grandchildren.

In researching this article, I found more nuggets of her appearances, including a very recent podcast and an interview she did with her son, during which they told a hilarious story about chicken parts he locked in the trunk of his car.

I'm sad that Jeanne Robertson won't be sharing any new stories. Her gentle wit has been a refreshing change from some of the raunchier, mean-spirited comedians that have come down the pike. 

Thanks, YouTube, for keeping her spirit alive.

Everyone Knows It's Wendy

When Mr. Ginley's California brother, Brian, paid us a visit last week, I decided to take a day off so Mr. and I could show him one of our MetroParks.

But, which one would it be? 

Then I remembered my friend, George, had been to Wendy Park and remarked that many improvements had been made – including a new pedestrian bridge, expanded all-purpose trails and additional parking.

Our destination became clear. And so it was the three of us trooped off, with me driving. Wendy Park isn't hard to find these days. Well-marked signs guide you off the Shoreway and along twisty roads and a traffic circle ("no, we're not going to Edgewater") and on to Wendy Park. It's tucked away, off to the east a bit, along the lakefront. 

Given that we'd seen the refurbished former Coast Guard station the last time (Brian checked it out later that day), we instead chose to try out the new trails. Soon, we were hoofing it over the pedestrian bridge and admiring the view of the Flats, Downtown Cleveland and environs.  

We watched the activity near the salt mine for a bit and chuckled, remembering how Mr. Ginley told our son he'd have to go work in the salt mines, that we'd buy him a metal lunch box and a thermos, but the 4-year-old wasn't having any of it. (He opted to go to Pre-K instead.) 

We clip-clopped our way to the other side of the bridge and walked a bit further until we came to the next bridge, an ancient behemoth that lifts so boats can sail underneath to continue their journey to Whiskey Island on the Cuyahoga River. 

Walking single-file across that bridge then back again, we had nearly made it when we heard the signal that the bridge was going to begin lift-off. We scurried the rest of the way and watched from the sidelines as its deck rose ever so slowly to let a large salt barge pass. Ginormous chains pulled up the deck of the bridge, clickety-clack until the deck was all the the way up. Then a tugboat at the rear of the freighter powered it past us and docked near the piles of salt we'd seen earlier.

As we headed back along the path, we noticed a second lift bridge, its deck supporting train tracks. Our luck continued, as a choo-choo pulled up a half-mile or so away and waited for the deck of that bridge to descend, at which point the train chugged its way across. 

The boys were in hog heaven, and admittedly, I enjoyed the show, too.

It helped that the weather was picture-perfect. 

Sometimes I get busy and lose sight of all the cool stuff we have in our berg. 

Tuesday with Wendy gave me the opportunity to recall, relax and enjoy.

Sucking It Up

I got the call at work last week. "This vacuum cleaner is a piece of s**t," growled Mr. Ginley. "I'm not surprised that a**hole Dyson doesn't show his face on TV anymore. I'd be ashamed to sell this crap, too."

I waited for the dust to settle before I promised to go in search of a new model.

"I want a Hoover," Mr. Ginley declared. "One with a bag. I'm sick of cleaning out these stupid filters."

Fair enough. I had to agree the whole idea of having to wash out the filters in a vacuum cleaner makes no sense to me. It feels like a step backwards. Certainly, it's not labor-saving. Using all that water is not environmentally friendly. A paper bag that you toss every couple of months is a quicker and easier solution – and it will eventually disintegrate in the garbage just fine.

And so my quest began. The tricky part was finding a place that sold the old-style Hoover upright with a bag. I tried the big box stores first, figuring that was my best bet.

No such luck. I even (heaven forfend) tried Walmart. No go.

Well, shopping local is always a good plan, so I googled small vacuum cleaner stores near me. And voilà, there was one and it had my vacuum. One quick call, and I was ready to pay a visit to All Makes Vacuum. The second voilà came when I realized it was located one block over from the Lakewood library. 

It was meant to be.

After dropping Mr. Ginley at the library, I headed over to pick up my new appliance. There it was, my new Hoover Windtunnel, all shiny blue plastic. With a bag.

I completed the transaction, and the next day I was able to assemble my new Hoover upright, easy peasy. Screw in the handle, slap on the attachments, and we were good to go.

Let me just say, I was happy that I:

• was able to find the right vacuum.
• could shop and support a local merchant.
• got it done in a day.

The new Hoover works like a dream, although no, I didn't finish vacuuming the living room.

I didn't want to deprive Mr. Ginley of all the fun.