“Why, yes.” As a matter of fact I was being treated for a sinus infection as we spoke.

“A major cause of sinus infections is dust mites,” Bob mentioned casually. “Actually, it’s not the mites themselves, but their feces. They crawl up your nose, into your sinus cavities and poop. It’s this mite poop and resulting germs that causes most sinus infections.”

Now that’s just flat disgusting, but it sure helped reduce the price gap.

If you have a bag less vacuum, you keep the same germs until you change the filter, which is precious seldom. With a Simplicity, you throw the germs away every time you change the bag.

Right there he’d taken a mighty swipe at Dyson, without ever having to mention them.

“If you’re going to pay less than $300 for a vacuum cleaner, you might as well push your old Hoover around and pretend you’re vacuuming.”

What a terrific mental image. Bob was a master story teller, getting his points across in a friendly, non-threatening manner.

“Pay $1,000 for a refrigerator to protect $75 worth of food. Pay only $400 to protect your health AND your refrigerator. Chief cause of refrigerator failure is dust build up.”

“Well, what about that Oreck I’ve seen on the TV?” I asked. “I’ve seen it pick up bowling balls and it only weighs 8 pounds. They use them in hotels, you know.” I was hitting my stride, bringing up valid objections just like a real customer. I was proud of me.

“Oreck has soft brushes because it sits around all day while a maid cleans a bathroom. Hotel cleaning is a completely different story from home cleaning. The Simplicity has stiff brushes because it actually works on plush pile carpet.”

What would you have done? I told him to ship it to me at once. He told me he’d pay for the shipping and I wouldn’t have to pay sales tax, as I was out of state. I had no choice. I was sitting there in a filthy house, knee deep in carpet fuzz and sniffling because I had a nose full of mite poop. I HAD to buy and price was not important.

My new Simplicity is here and it’s beautiful. It’s quiet and my carpets are pristine. Bob fulfilled the primary job of a salesman; he made me happy.

TANK

They told me the big black Lab's name was Reggie as I looked at him lying in his pen. The shelter was clean, no-kill, and the people really friendly. I'd only been in the area for six months, but everywhere I went in the small college town, people were welcoming and open. Everyone waves when you pass them on the street.

But something was still missing as I attempted to settle in to my new life here, and I thought a dog couldn't hurt. Give me someone to talk to. And I had just seen Reggie's advertisement on the local news. The shelter said they had received numerous calls right after, but they said the people who had come down to see him just didn't look like “Lab people,” whatever that meant. They must've thought I did. But at first, I thought the shelter had misjudged me in giving me Reggie and his things, which consisted of a dog pad, bag of toys almost all of which were brand new tennis balls, his dishes, and a sealed letter from his previous owner. See, Reggie and I didn't really hit it off when we got home. We struggled for two weeks (which is how long the shelter told me to give him to adjust to his new home). Maybe it was the fact that I was trying to adjust, too. Maybe we were too much alike.

For some reason, his stuff (except for the tennis balls—he wouldn't go anywhere without two stuffed in his mouth) got tossed in with all of my other unpacked boxes. I guess I didn't really think he'd need all his old stuff, that I'd get him new things once he settled in. But it became pretty clear pretty soon that he wasn't going to.

I tried the normal commands the shelter told me he knew, ones like “sit” and “stay” and “come” and “heel,” and he'd follow them—when he felt like it. He never really seemed to listen when I called his name—sure, he'd look in my direction after the fourth or fifth time I said it, but then he'd just go back to doing whatever. When I'd ask again, you could almost see him sigh and then grudgingly obey.

This just wasn't going to work. He chewed a couple shoes and some unpacked boxes. I was a little too stern with him and he resented it, I could tell. The friction got so bad that I couldn't wait for the two weeks to be up, and when it was, I was in full-on search mode for my cell phone amid all of my unpacked stuff. I remembered leaving it on the stack of boxes for the guest room, but I also mumbled, rather cynically, that the “damn dog probably hid it on me.”

Finally I found it, but before I could punch up the shelter's number, I also found his pad and other toys from the shelter. I tossed the pad in Reggie's direction and he snuffed it and wagged, some of the most enthusiasm I'd seen since bringing him home. But then I called, “Hey, Reggie, you like that? Come here and I'll give you a treat.” Instead, he sort of glanced in my direction - maybe “glared” is more accurate—and then gave a discontented sigh and flopped down. With his back to me.

Well, that's not going to do it either, I thought. And I punched the shelter phone number.

But I hung up when I saw the sealed envelope. I had completely forgotten about that, too. “Okay, Reggie,” I said out loud, “let's see if your previous owner has any advice.”......

To Whoever Gets My Dog:

Well, I can't say that I'm happy you're reading this, a letter I told the shelter could only be opened by Reggie's new owner. I'm not even happy writing it. If you're reading this, it means I just got back from my last car ride with my Lab after dropping him off at the shelter. He knew something was different. I have packed up his pad and toys before and set them by the back door before a trip, but this time... it's like he knew something was wrong. And something is wrong... which is why I have to go to try to make it right.

So let me tell you about my Lab in the hopes that it will help you bond with him and he with you.

First, he loves tennis balls. The more the merrier. Sometimes I think he's part squirrel, the way he hordes them. He usually always has two in his mouth, and he tries to get a third in there. Hasn't done it yet. Doesn't matter where you throw them, he'll bound after it, so be careful - really don't do it by any roads. I made that mistake once, and it almost cost him dearly.

Next, commands: Maybe the shelter staff already told you, but I'll go over them again: Reggie knows the obvious ones—”sit,” “stay,” “come,” “heel.” He knows hand signals: “back” to turn around and go back when you put your hand straight up; and “over” if you put your hand out right or left. “Shake” for shaking water off, and “paw” for a high-five. He does “down” when he feels like lying down—I bet you could work on that with him some more. He knows “ball” and “food” and “bone” and “treat” like nobody's business.

I trained Reggie with small food treats. Nothing opens his ears like little pieces of hot dog.

Feeding schedule: twice a day, once about seven in the morning, and again at six in the evening. Regular store-bought stuff; the shelter has the brand.

He's up on his shots. Call the clinic on 9th Street and update his info with yours; they'll make sure to send you reminders for when he's due. Be forewarned: Reggie hates the vet. Good luck getting him in the car - I don't know how he knows when it's time to go to the vet, but he knows.

Finally, give him some time. I've never been married, so it's only been Reggie and me for his whole life. He's gone everywhere with me, so please include him on your daily car rides if you can. He sits well in the backseat, and he doesn't bark or complain. He just loves to be around people and me most especially.

Which means that this transition is going to be hard, with him going to live with someone new.

And that's why I need to share one more bit of info with you...His name's not Reggie.

I don't know what made me do it, but when I dropped him off at the shelter, I told them his name was Reggie. He's a smart dog, he'll get used to it and will respond to it, of that I have no doubt, but I just couldn't bear to give them his real name. For me to do that, it seemed so final, that handing him over to the shelter was as good as me admitting that I'd never see him again. And if I end up coming back, getting him, and tearing up this letter, it means everything's fine. But if someone else is reading it, well... well it means that his new owner should know his real name. It'll help you bond with him. Who knows, maybe you'll even notice a change in his demeanor if he's been giving you problems.

His real name is Tank. because that is what I drive.

Again, if you're reading this and you're from the area, maybe my name has been on the news. I told the shelter that they couldn't make “Reggie” available for adoption until they received word from my company commander. See, my parents are gone, I have no siblings, no one I could've left Tank with... and it was my only real request of the Army upon my deployment to Iraq, that they make one phone call to the shelter... in the “event”... to tell them that Tank could be put up for adoption. Luckily, my colonel is a dog guy, too, and he knew where my platoon was headed. He said he'd do it personally. And if you're reading this, then he made good on his word.

Well, this letter is getting too downright depressing, even though, frankly, I'm just writing it for my dog. I couldn't imagine if I was writing it for a wife and kids and family, but still, Tank has been my family for the last six years, almost as long as the Army has been my family.

And now I hope and pray that you make him part of your family and that he will adjust and come to love you the same way he loved me.

That unconditional love from a dog is what I took with me to Iraq as an inspiration to do something selfless, to protect innocent people from those who would do terrible things... and to keep those terrible people from coming over here. If I had to give up Tank in order to do it, I am glad to have done so. He was my example of service and of love. I hope I honored him by my service to my country and comrades.

All right, that's enough. I deploy this evening and have to drop this letter off at the shelter. I don't think I'll say another good-bye to Tank, though. I cried too much the first time. Maybe I'll peek in on him and see if he finally got that third tennis ball in his mouth.

Good luck with Tank. Give him a good home, and give him an extra kiss goodnight—every night - from me.

Thank you, Paul Mallory

_______________________

I folded the letter and slipped it back in the envelope. Sure I had heard of Paul Mallory, everyone in town knew him, even new people like me. Local kid, killed in Iraq a few months ago and posthumously earning the Silver Star when he gave his life to save three buddies. Flags had been at half-mast all summer.

I leaned forward in my chair and rested my elbows on my knees, staring at the dog.

“Hey, Tank,” I said quietly.

The dog's head whipped up, his ears cocked and his eyes bright.

“C'mere boy.”

He was instantly on his feet, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor. He sat in front of me, his head tilted; searching for the name he hadn't heard in months.

“Tank,” I whispered.

His tail swished.

I kept whispering his name, over and over, and each time, his ears lowered, his eyes softened, and his posture relaxed as a wave of contentment just seemed to flood him. I stroked his ears, rubbed his shoulders, buried my face into his scruff and hugged him.

“It's me now, Tank, just you and me. Your old pal gave you to me.” Tank reached up and licked my cheek. “So whatdaya say we play some ball? His ears perked again. “Yeah? Ball? You like that?
Ball?” Tank tore from my hands and disappeared in the next room.

And when he came back, he had three tennis balls in his mouth.

—Leo Parrish, Highland, MI

GOVERNMENT

The U.S. Postal Service was established in 1775—they've had 234 years to get it right; it is broke, and even though heavily subsidized, it can't compete with private sector FedEx and UPS services.

Social Security was established in 1935 - they've had 74 years to get it right; it is broke.

Fannie Mae was established in 1938—they've had 71 years to get it right; it is broke. Freddie Mac was established in 1970—they've had 39 years to get it right; it is broke. Together Fannie and Freddie have now led the entire world into the worst economic collapse in 80 years.

The War on Poverty was started in 1964—they've had 45 years to get it right; $1 trillion of our hard earned money is confiscated each year and transferred to “the poor”; it hasn't worked.

Medicare and Medicaid were established in 1965—they've had 44 years to get it right; they are both broke; and now our government dares to mention them as models for all US health care.

AMTRAK was established in 1970—they've had 39 years to get it right; last year they bailed it out as it continues to run at a loss.

This year, a trillion dollars was committed in the massive political payoff called the Stimulus Bill of 2009; it shows NO sign of working; it's been used to increase the size of governments across America and raise government salaries while the rest of us suffer from economic hardships. It has yet to create a single new private sector job. Our national debt projections (approaching $10 trillion) have increased 400% in the last six months.

“Cash for Clunkers” was established in 2009 and went broke in 2009—after 80% of the cars purchased turned out to be produced by foreign companies, and dealers nationwide are buried under bureaucratic paperwork demanded by a government that is not yet paying them what was promised.

So with a perfect 100% failure rate and a record that proves that each and every “service” shoved down our throats by an over-reaching government turns into disaster, how could any informed American trust our government to run or even set policies for America's health care system—17% of our economy?

Each of us has a personal responsibility to let others in on this brilliant record before 2010. Help remove from office those who are voting to destroy capitalism and destroy our grandchildren's future. Remember both Democrats and Republicans put us in the shape we are in today.

—Larry Fargher, Realcom Associates, Santa Clara, CA

THINGS YOU NEVER KNEW HAD NAMES

AGLET - The plain or ornamental covering on the end of a shoelace.

ARMSAYE - The armhole in clothing.

CHANKING - Spat-out food, such as rinds or pits.

COLUMELLA NASI - The bottom part of the nose between the nostrils.

DRAGÉES - Small beadlike pieces of candy, usually silver-colored, used for decorating cookies, cakes and sundaes.

FEAT - A dangling curl of hair.

FERRULE - The metal band on a pencil that holds the eraser in place.

HARP - The small metal hoop that supports a lampshade.

HEMIDEMISEMIQUAVER - A 64th note. (A 32nd is a demisemiquaver, and a 16th note is a semiquaver.)

JARNS, NITTLES, GRAWLIX, and QUIMP - Various squiggles used to denote cussing in comic books.

KEEPER - The loop on a belt that keeps the end in place after it has passed through the buckle.

KICK or PUNT - The indentation at the bottom of some wine bottles. It gives added strength to the bottle but lessens its holding capacity.

LIRIPIPE - The long tail on a graduate’s academic hood.

MINIMUS - The little finger or toe.

NEF - An ornamental stand in the shape of a ship.

OBDORMITION - The numbness caused by pressure on a nerve; when a limb is ‘asleep’.

OCTOTHORPE - The symbol ‘#’ on a telephone handset. Bell Labs’ engineer Don Macpherson created the word in the 1960s by combining octo-, as in eight, with the name of one of his favorite athletes, 1912 Olympic decathlon champion Jim Thorpe.

OPHRYON - The space between the eyebrows on a line with the top of the eye sockets.

PEEN - The end of a hammer head opposite the striking face.

PHOSPHENES - The lights you see when you close your eyes hard. Technically the luminous impressions are due to the excitation of the retina caused by pressure on the eyeball.

PURLICUE - The space between the thumb and extended forefinger.

RASCETA - Creases on the inside of the wrist.

ROWEL - The revolving star on the back of a cowboy’s spurs.

SADDLE - The rounded part on the top of a matchbook.

SCROOP - The rustle of silk.

SNORKEL BOX - A mailbox with a protruding receiver to allow people to deposit mail without leaving their cars.

SPRAINTS - Otter dung.

TANG - The projecting prong on a tool or instrument.

WAMBLE - Stomach rumbling.

ZARF - A holder for a handleless coffee cup.

—barbara

WOOFIE WOWSER

Cell phones are absolutely ubiquitous these days, as are other sonic intrusions into our serenity.

Well, if you can’t fight ‘em, lick ‘em. Here’s a way to make all those iPhone, Blackberry, iPod and MP3 player-packers real fans of yours.

Just slip your player into the padded pocket, plug in the jack and the built-in speaker takes over. You attach the player to you with a belt-loop, or a carabineer. You can dance through the mall, or barrel down the freeway. I have one on my trike and listen to “kicker” music wherever I ride. This is a great way to comply with the “both hands on the wheel” laws being enacted all over the country.

These are priced right at just $13.50 each with a low minimum of only 100 pieces.

Give me a call today to discuss your promotional marketing needs. I’d also love to chat with you about creating your own online company store to drive your marketing/branding efforts.

Call Hank at

(408) 978-6000

NO BULL SHOTS

“Personality can open doors, but only character can keep them open.”
—Elmer G. Leterman

“Is sloppiness in speech caused by ignorance or apathy? I don't know and I don't care.”
—William Safire

“I feel like a fugitive from the law of averages.”
—William H. Mauldin

“I have not observed men's honesty to increase their riches.”
—Thomas Jefferson

“Three Rules of Work: Out of clutter find simplicity;
From discord find harmony;
In the middle of difficulty lies opportunity.”
—Albert Einstein

“When your work speaks for itself, don't interrupt.”
—Henry J. Kaiser

“Age is mind over matter. If you don't mind, it don't matter.”
—Satchel Paige

“I'm not a vegetarian because I love animals. I'm a vegetarian because I hate plants.”
—A. Whitney Brown

“The more I study religions the more I am convinced that man never worshipped anything but himself.”
—Sir Richard F. Burton

“Money may not bring happiness, but it brings such a good imitation that it is often hard to tell from the real thing.”
—William Feather

“I never wanted to see anybody die, but there are a few obituary notices I have read with pleasure.”
—Clarence Darrow

“How many lives does a cat have in metric countries?” —Steve Morris

“Activity energizes; inertia and apathy enervate.”
—Harry G. Mendelson

“I have a switch in my apartment that doesn't do anything. Every once in a while I turn it on and off. One day I got a call from a woman in France who said, 'Cut it out!'“
—Steven Wright

“I think most of the people involved in any art always secretly wonder whether they are there because they're good or there because they're lucky.”
—Katherine Hepburn

“In an underdeveloped country, don't drink the water. In a developed country, don't breathe the air.”
—Jonathan Raban

“As long as men are liable to die and are desirous to live, a physician will be made fun of, but he will be well paid.”
—Jean de la Bruyere

“To be what we are, and to become what we are capable of becoming, is the only end of life.”
—Robert Louis Stevenson

“Some people are born on third base and go through life thinking they hit a triple.”
—Barry Switzer

THIS DEAL SUCKS

TANK

GOVERNMENT

THINGS YOU NEVER KNEW HAD NAMES

WOOFIE WOWSER

NO BULL SHOTS