Google Saves the Day

Almost every evening some question arises that neither Studly Doright nor I can answer. We’ll bicker back and forth, offering our own answers, but our good friend Google is always called on in the end to settle the matter.

Some nights the question in question revolves around the name of an actor and/or what other roles we’ve seen them in. Studly is much better at this than I am, but we always ask Google in the end.

On Sunday evening as we watched the Travelers Championship golf tournament a commercial played and I turned to Studly. “I believe that’s Bob Dylan singing in this Traveler’s insurance commercial.”

Now Studly pays little to no attention to music. He knows all the words to one song—“Happy Birthday”—but that didn’t keep him from weighing in.

He frowned. “No it’s not Dylan. The voice isn’t gravelly enough.”

We argued for a good ten minutes before I held up my phone. “We’ll see. I’m asking Google.”

Sure enough I was right. Damn, but it feels good to say that. I only wish it happened more often.

https://www.ispot.tv/ad/nlFo/travelers-a-better-tomorrow-song-by-bob-dylan

Peace, people.

Bated or Baited Breath?

Do you ever wonder how you survived without Google? I do, daily. A couple of days ago as I wrote my thoughts on Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, I included the phrase “with baited breath.”

I looked at the phrase more than once, squinting my eyes to discern if that, indeed, was the proper way to say someone was waiting in great suspense for something to happen. On one hand, it seemed right. Bait, meaning something that entices, could perhaps suit my purposes, but it seemed like an ill-fitting puzzle piece when I examined it with eyes wide open.

This appeared to be a job for Google.

I typed in, “Is it bated or baited breath?”

Then I waited (with either bated or baited breath) for fewer than two seconds:

Bated breath vs baited breath. Bated breath is a phrase that means to hold one’s breath due to suspense, trepidation or fear. Bated breath is a phrase first mentioned in Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice. The word bated is an abbreviation of the word abated, meaning to lessen in severity or amount.

Who knew that bated was short for abated? Maybe everyone but me. Shouldn’t it be shown with an apostrophebated, to indicate it’s been abbreviated?

At any rate, I changed my text to show that Quentin Tarantino was most likely waiting with bated breath for my approval. Now I just need to find a way to use baited breath. How about, “Simon was the consummate fisherman. He always had the best results after eating worms for breakfast. It seems the bass were fond of his baited breath.”

But Pinterest had a better one.

Technology is good.

Peace, people.

A Badling of Ducks?

Last week I posted a poem about a flock of ducks in response to my sister-in-law, Lyn, referring to them as a herd. (Complete post below) 

As it turns out there are a great many names for a group of ducks. Thanks to my friend Derrick whose wonderful blog can be found at https://derrickjknight.com I’ve discovered several new duck designations. Derrick pointed out

  
And his comment led me to google:

  
I especially like “badelynge” so I’ve changed my poem: 

                  “A Herd of Ducks”

Strutting for all the world to see, a herd of ducks came calling.

Ate our muffins, blueberry and bran, their manners so appalling. 

Nary a thanks in quacked accent as these feathered friends departed

Don’t they ken we’re a badelynge? Drake did ask, waddling as he farted. 

Here’s the original post:

My sister-in-law, Lyn, and her husband, Mike, are staying the weekend at Baron’s Creekside near Fredricksburg, Texas. Their accommodation is a quaintly furnished cabin on a quiet lake. 
This morning, Lyn posted, 

  
  

And these photos:

  
   My contribution follows:

                   “A Herd of Ducks

Strutting for all the world to see, a herd of ducks came calling.
Ate our muffins, blueberry and bran, their manners so appalling. 
Nary a thanks in quacked accent as these feathered friends departed

Don’t they ken we’re a flock? The drake did ask, waddling as he farted. 

This Does Not Compute

In response to the Daily Post’s Daily Prompt:

Your life without a computer, what does it look like?

I wake in the morning

Check the weather online

Google my teams’ scores

Cruise Amazon for a time

I log into WordPress

Along about seven

Peruse my statistics

I’m in hell or in heaven.

In the shower I ponder

Topics to write

Great ideas flock to me

Then fly, out of sight.

My house is a wreck,

But never you mind

I’m too busy Facebooking

And my Twitter feed’s unkind

Without my computer

And nowhere to post

I might go bonkers, you see

I’m more addicted than most.

  
Peace, people.
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