“What’s your name?’

“Punxsutawney Phil.”

“Where did you get a name like that?

“It’s from where I’m forced to live in Pennsylvania.”

“Why’d they name you after a town?”

“Guess it was better than Candlemas Phil.”

“‘Candlemas’?”

“Candlemas is February 2^nd. That’s the day I usually check outside the burrow to see what the weather is like. Candlemas is the day the baby Jesus was presented in the temple. That’s that day I present myself to the world after a long winter’s sleep.”

“Sleep?”

“I’m a groundhog. When the weather cools in fall, I hibernate for the winter to stay warm. You know, a nice den under the ground with warm leaves and twigs and bits of grass. Quite comfortable.”

“Why ‘ground-hog’? I get the ‘ground’ piece, but why ‘hog’? You don’t look like a piggie.”

“I’m not. No porcine in my family tree. I’m actually a ground squirrel, but, well, I like to eat, carry a few extra pounds, you know, to last the winter. I guess I am a little chubby.”

“So, you got stuck with ‘groundhog’ because of your waistline?”

“That’s part of it.”

“There’s more?”

“When I’d present myself on Candlemas Day to decide if it’s warm enough for an early exit and romp in the yard, the kids would scream to their parents: “Groundhog! Groundhog! It’s Groundhog’s Day, Mummy? Is the weather warm enough to play outside, Daddy? Please! Please!” That’s how the whole Groundhog’s Day started.”

“You mean you became a celebrity?”

“Yep, a captive celebrity. I was declared a prognosticator of the advent of spring, a predictor of warmer times. For that talent, I was netted, imprisoned and incarcerated in a fake den in Pennsylvania to spend the cold days in dark isolation, pulled out on February 2^nd and forced to look for my shadow.”

“Why your shadow?”

“No idea. My captives made it up. No shadow, spring will come early. Shadow, six more week of winter. Complete nonsense. I know if it’s warm enough outside by the temperature. Who do they think I am?”

“Why the ‘Phil’ part of your name?”

“No idea on that either. I was trying to get it legally changed and then that Bill Murray guy happened.”

“The actor?”

“Yeah. He played Phil Connors in that movie ‘Groundhog’s Day.’ I think it was 1993. The winters run together. Anyway, this Phil Connors meteorologist jerk predicts the weather wrong and gets presented with an endless series of wake-ups in Punxsutawney on the same Groundhog’s Day until he starts treating people, the weather and me right. Talk about a lesson. Phil got it right and got treated better. Why don’t they treat me better? It’s not right the way they treat me. Plus, after that movie, I’m stuck with the ‘Phil’ name forever. Everyone loved Phil by the end of the show? It’s just not fair.”

“So what did you predict this year?”

“Oh yeah, I’ll tell you the ‘Secret.’ My captors don’t even look at my shadow. They make me whisper in the Chief Warden’s ear whether there will be an early spring. If I don’t do it, they’ll turn on the movie with Bill Phil Murray for 24 hours a day every day in my burrow. I mean that movie will drive you nuts.”

“So, early spring or not this year?”

“’Okay, campers, rise and shine, and don’t forget your booties ’cause it’s cooooold out there today.’ I couldn’t resist a quote from the movie. And, here’s my favorite for old Bill Phil himself, a prediction for the rest of his life, I wish: ‘You want a prediction about the weather, you’re asking the wrong Phil. I’ll give you a winter prediction: It’s gonna be cold, it’s gonna be grey, and it’s gonna last you for the rest of your life.’ There, take that, old Bill Phil Murray, you. And next time, let me jump out of the pickup before you drive it and you over the cliff.”

“You seem upset. Maybe you should take a nice quiet rest for another six weeks or so.”

“You’re probably right. I do feel a bit tired.”

“See you in the spring.”

“Say, what’s your name?”

“Rabbit, Peter Rabbit.”

“That the Easter thing?”

“Right.”

“What day is that?”

“That’s a long story. Maybe we can talk after you wake up.”

See you in the spring, I hope.

Grandpa Jim

A sea urchin is not a youngish pirate or a youthful seafaring Samurai.

A sea urchin is a small round spiny hedgehog-looking shelled animal inhabiting the tidal environs of oceans around the world. Sand dollars found in the wet sands on morning beach walks are related to sea urchins, but sea urchins can cost much more than a dollar or two or even hundreds, because the roe (or corals) of the little urchin is considered a culinary delicacy.

In Japan, sea urchin is called “uni.” People travel the world at great expense to sight a bite-sized preparation of raw “nigirisushi” of sea urchin, “uni nigirisushi” or “uni nigiri” for short.

A little background on raw seafood talk: “Sushi” is a name for various combinations of raw seafood, fish and rice, and “sashimi” is the raw fish or other seafood alone – no rice.

“Nigirisushi” means “hand-pressed sushi.” For nigirisushi, the sushi chef presses an oblong of sushi rice into the shape of a small rectangular box. The chef than carefully drapes a topping (or “neta”) over the rice. That is a nigirisushi.

When sea urchin roe (or “uni”) is the neta-topping, the rice and roe can be wrapped with a strip (or “nori”) of seaweed or other edible binder. The binding strip keeps the uni nigiri together, because sea urchin roe is delicate and the corals easily disassembled. The resulting uni nigirisushi (the rice, roe and weed) is called a “gunkanmaki” (or warship) because the entire toss-in-your-mouth concoction resembles in appearance a tiny battleship of the waves.

A sushi chef handing over a nigirisushi gunkanmaki of uni may bow politely and utter the quiet exclamation, “Hokkaido,” to honor the preparation and presentation.

Hokkaido is the northernmost and second largest island of Japan. In shape, it does resemble the head of a horned dinosaur where it rides the Northern Sea Circuit defending the watery borders of its homeland. Of the bounties of that homeland is its seafood. The Hokkaido catch is reputedly and reportedly some the freshest and tastiest on our planet.

Chief among the salt-water treasures is the uni urchin that is transformed to gunkanmaki and other wondrous dishes for sea urchin aficionados rushing to the “asaichi” (or morning markets) of the Northern Island Circuit. For them, Hokkaido is royal realm, if not a revered temple, where reign and can be found the crustaceous hedgehogs of the seas.

Urchin is an old nickname for that little roly-poly mammal the hedgehog, and urchin is the name applied throughout the restaurants of the world for the uni of Japan’s cold waters.

Hokkaido.

I wish you well on your search for the tastes of your dreams.

May you discover the sea urchin you seek and escape any teenaged pirates or juvenile rabble rousers vying for space at the asaichi.

Uni, Hokkaido. See you at the morning market.

Grandpa Jim

Checkers.

The game that pre-dated the video gaming craze.

Checkers is the American name for a test of skill played on a flat checkered board with opposing black and white pieces. The English name for the boarded combat is draughts, pronounced “drafts.” An earlier form of checkers called alquerque, meaning to move or advance your forces against mine, was mentioned in Middle Eastern literature over 1,000 years ago. The militant Romans, Greeks and Egyptians had their versions, and a 4,000 year-old checkered board has been found in the ruins of an ancient fortress in modern-day Iraq.

Question #1: Why has the game been so wildly successful for so many years?

Answer #1: It is a battle game, probably the first of the battle games, and all Knights love battle games.

Question #2: Why has a battle board game been so successful for millennia?

Answer #2: You can resolve disputes without denting your armor.

Knight #1 addresses his opponent, Knight #2: “We can beat each other with clubs, wear ourselves out and ruin our new metal clothes, or we can play checkers and the winner wins. What say you?”

Knight #2 responds: “Flip you for color. White goes first.”

“You lose.” Knight #1 gloats. “I’m white and I go first. Get ready for defeat, my worthily-clad but less-talented adversary.”

“My response, oh-loud-of-mouth,” Knight #2 exclaims loudly, “will be my sure and certain moves that shall amaze, mystify and befuddle your soon-to-be-captured pieces.”

That is probably how and why the game was invented. Metal pants are expensive, and most Knights and their bosses are pretty smart once they lift those visors and smile. It might be said that almost all modern board and electronic games are variations of checkers, in one form or another.

“Drats,” Knight #2 laments, “you have bested me with your white pieces.”

“Do you surrender,” Knight #1 demands, “to my rule of the kingdom of this checkered board?”

“Perhaps.” Knight #2 has a thoughtful look on his face. “But, no test of arms is determined by a single joust.”

“Well said.” Knight #1 rubs the metal covering his chin. “What then is your counter?”

“Two out of three games,” Knight #2 proposes, “on this brave checkered field to determine the true winner.”

“Agreed.” Knight #1 smashes the table with his malleted fist.

“But,” Kinght #2 proposes, “we flip again for choice of color?”

“Certainly,” Knight #1 sneers with braggadocio. “And, if chance would change my color, it will make my triumph even sweeter to have defeated you under both banners.”

The two Knights play into the night, munching bowls of popped corn brought by their faithful squires. In the morning, the combatants mount their rested steeds, raise their hands in salute and part well-met and soon to meet again over another game.

Why head for the lists and break all those good lances when a trial of strength of mind on the checkered board is more entertaining and far less straining?

Plus, the good ladies do prefer the sight of a Knight in shining armor on the home path, rather than a battered and rusted metal suit with a stuck visor hiding a frown.

“I win the toss,” Knight #2 pronounces, with renewed confidence on their next meeting. “I choose white, and I go first. Prepare for thy fate, oh ill-fated Knight #1, and pass the popcorn.”

Now, that’s a game worthy of time, test and friendly sport.

Grandpa Jim

Checkers is the American name for a game played on a flat checkered board with opposing black and white game pieces that can be moved only diagonally. The English name for the board game is draughts, pronounced “drafts.” An earlier form of checkers called alquerque was mentioned in Middle Eastern literature over 1,000 years ago. The ancient Romans, Greeks and Egyptians had their versions, and a 4,000 year-old checkered board has been found in the ruins of the royal palaces of Iraq.

How is the game played?

The American game is played on a board with 10 rows containing 10 alternating black and white squares, for a total of 100 squares on a square board. The board itself resembles a checkered tablecloth and strongly suggests that the American name “Checkers” derives from the check-print appearance of the field of play.

One player has 20 black pieces and the other player has 20 white pieces. The pieces are called “checkers” in the American version. To honor the many-nationed origins and versions of the board game, we will call the checkers “pieces.”

On the back four rows of your side, you place your 20 pieces on the black squares. Your opponent does the same on the black squares of his back four rows. Only the black squares are used. At the start of the game, the two middle rows are empty to allow room for the first moves.

In my book, white always has the first move. So, flip a coin to see who has the black pieces and who has the white pieces. White goes first.

A piece can only move forward diagonally one space at a time, except when the piece can forward jump one or more of the opponent’s pieces (you may not jump your own pieces). If you are blocked, you are blocked, until you can jump an opposing piece or move to a vacated square.

A jumped piece is captured and removed from the board by the capturing party.

When one of your pieces reaches the opponent’s back line (by skillful moves and surprising capture jumps), that triumphant piece is “crowned” with another piece to double its size. At this point, the newly crowed piece acquires the stature of a “king.” You want and must have kings, because only a king can reverse directions, only a king can move and jump backward and forward, and only a king can really start clearing your opponent’s pieces from the board.

The game is over when all the pieces of one party have been jumped, captured and removed by the other party. The victorious pieces remaining on the board (and it may be a single checker) bask in the glory of their single-colored aloneness, having vanquished those pesky others from the checkered lands of their now boardom kingdom.

Why has the game been so wildly successful for so many years?

Simple answer: It is a battle game, probably the first of the battle games, and all Knights love battle games.

Next question: Why has a battle board game been so successful for millennia?

Simple answer: You can resolve disputes without denting your armor.

One Knight says, “We can beat each other with clubs, wear ourselves out and ruin our new metal clothes, or we can play checkers and the winner wins. What say you?” The other Knight says, “Flip you for color. White goes first.” “You lose, I’m white and I go first. Get ready for defeat, my worthily-dressed but less-talented adversary.” “My response, oh-loud-of-mouth, will be my sure and certain moves that shall amaze, mystify and befuddle your soon-to-be-captured pieces.”

That is probably how and why the game was first invented. Metal pants are expensive, and most Knights and their bosses are pretty smart once they lift those visors and smile. In fact, almost all modern board and electronic games are variations of checkers, in one form or another.

“Drats, you have bested me with your white pieces.” “Do you surrender then to my rule of the kingdom of this checkered board?” “Perhaps, but no test of arms is determined by a single joust.” “Well said. What then is your counter?” “Two out of three games on this brave checkered field to determine the true winner.” “Agreed.” “But, we flip again for choice of color?” “Agreed, and if chance would change my color, it will make my triumph even sweeter to have defeated you under both banners.”

The two Knights play into the night, munching bowls of popped corn brought by their faithful squires. In the morning, the combatants mount their rested steeds, raise their hands in salute and part well-met and soon to meet again over another game.

Why head for the lists and break all those good lances when a trial of strength of mind on the checkered board is more entertaining and far less straining? Plus, the good ladies do prefer the sight of a Knight in shining armor on the home path, rather than a battered and rusted metal suit with a stuck visor hiding a frown.

“I win the toss. White goes first.”

“Prepare for thy fate, and pass the popcorn.”

Now, that’s a game worthy of time, test and friendly sport.

Grandpa Jim

It was May 21, 2010, a day that will live forever in Internet history.

In the state of Florida USA, a computer programmer put his stylus in his pocket protector and thought, “I’m hungry.” Now, hungry-in-Florida had a friend in London, England, and they’d been talking about this new Internet Bitcoin service and how it might work. Our US-based-fellow wanted pizza bad, but he was on the outs with his former girlfriend, who took the orders at the local pizza shop, and he really liked the pizza there, but he was afraid what might happen to the toppings if he called her with the order. So, thinking-and-hungry-in-Florida zapped $25 to Mr. Bitcoin who assigned cautious-in-Florida an anonymous Bitcoin address worth 10,000 bitcoins (4 bitcoins to the US cent — quite the deal back then). Next, starved-in-Florida transferred the 10,000 bitcoins to the virtual-wallet Bitcoin address of his facilitating friend in England, who in turn emailed the pizza shop’s anonymous Bitcoin address (all Bitcoin addresses are apparently anonymous) and traded the 10,000 bitcoins for two giant pizzas to be delivered to a person wearing a stocking cap, dark glasses and new jeans at the bus stop outside anonymous-in-Florida’s apartment.

The frist bitcoin transaction had been completed.

Bitcoins don’t really exist. They’re not real coins. They are a way of anonymously trading across the Internet, and they are purported to be a way of doing this without bank or government involvement. Of course, you first have to find a Mr. Bitcoin who will act as your confidential intermediary to facilitate the trade and encrypt the barter from prying eyes.

A number of these traders are out there. You might think of them as old-fashioned Vikings plying the new-fashioned waters of the Internet in their dragon boats loaded with golden doubloons to trade in far-away lands for what you want and then sailing back with the loot to you waving on the dock. Except these new-fangled barterers don’t use gold or doubloons, they use bitcoins in internet bursts to close the deals so you acquire the goods. BTC China in China, Mt. Gox in Japan and Bitstamp in Europe operate very large Bitcoin trading exchanges, and the value of the bitcoins they trade has increased dramatically. A couple months ago, a single bitcoin was reportedly worth about US $1,000, and the value of all bitcoins floating in the ether of the world-wide web was estimated to be over US $10 billion.

Now, another bitcoin story.

You have this Arkansas piglet, a very cute little pink pet pig, and you have your eye on a pair of Korean jeans, a very stylish pair of jeans. You know the pig would make a great house-friend, but it’s too far to fly the pig across the Pacific for the trade. Let’s say the pig is worth US $1,000 on the open market and the jeans are already on sale on the Internet for US $1,000 or equivalent in bitcoin – a very nice porcine and pants. You really want those jeans. So, you ask Mr. Bitcoin what to do? His answer is immediate: Sell your cute piggie on the Internet for 1 bitcoin (worth $1,000) and buy the jeans with your 1 bitcoin — the fees are much less than credit card sales, and no external party can associate you with the transaction. You do the deal with the bitcoin, it works wonderfully, and do you look good. Oink.

That’s how it’s supposed to work, but some cautions are directed.

Bitcoin value may fluctuate: Your 1 bitcoin may no longer be worth $1,000 to the pants merchant, who may now want 2 bitcoins for the trade – you’d be without a pig with no leggings to show. Not everyone takes bitcoins: If the merchant stops accepting bitcoins, you’ve lost the pig, and the bitcoin is burning a hole in your pocket with no place for you to spend it. Governments may control bitcoin exchanges: You have a bitcoin, but the local sheriff may say you can’t use it in their town.

Despite the concerns, Bitcoin has emerged as a new way to trade without money or easy external tracking, and it is enjoying growing popularity and acceptance. Some physical shops even let you walk in and pay from the bitcoin wallet on your handheld device.

What on earth is the world coming to?

Great fun for sure, I think.

But still, caution may be advised.

You wouldn’t want to buy a pig in a poke

And you may want to exercise some care when biting into that pizza.

Just in case — you know you ordered your favorite toppings and she’ll see the order.

And, the stocking cap and glasses are great, but remember your former girlfriend picked out the new Korean jeans you’re wearing and sometimes she does the deliveries.

It never hurts to test the waters, or the pizzas.

Grandpa Jim

The kitchen magnet holds the family picture against the metal surface of the refrigerator. In its way, the magnet can be seen as the center of the home, the core of our lives.

The core of the Earth, our planet, is composed of metal. The Earth’s core is estimated to be 88.8% iron. Although the Earth is the densest of the planets in our solar system, every planet has a metal core. Even the gas giant Saturn has a core of iron. Metal is the heart of every planet.

Magnets are composed of metals. Some 2,500 years ago, our ancestors discovered the lodestone, a natural metal magnet. When the first voyagers on the seas of our planet suspended a lodestone from a string, they found to their amazement that the ends of stone oriented to the north and to the south. The first compass was born of the metal of the Earth and it was the magnet. Ever since, travel to far places has been facilitated by the simple metal of the lodestone.

After much trial, error and observation, the early voyagers determined that the south end of their lodestone pointed to the North Pole and the north end pointed to the South Pole. Their navigating minds had long observed one end of a lodestone attracts one end of another lodestone and one end repels the other. They scratched their sailors’ heads and wondered of these things on the barks of old, until one clear night under a full moon, a wizened grandfather of the waves said simply, “I guess our world is a lodestone too, and our Earth attracts the ends of our compass.” He was right.

The Earth, our planet, is a magnet, as is every planet, the Sun and every point bright in the sky of night. The universe is a sea of magnets and we are awash in its vast expanse.

What does it all mean?

Last week we traced the origins of the electricity we use in our homes and appliances to waves of electrons flowing between metal atoms and accelerated by spinning magnets in generators and other equipment.

What else are magnets doing?

We know that magnets exert force on themselves and each other to make the magnetic force of the lodestone. We know that magnets exert force on metals to make the electric force of the electricity that powers our homes. Our scientists tell us that all the materials of the universe respond to magnetic force. All the celestial bodies in our universe appear to possess metal cores, be themselves magnets and exert force on each other and all other materials.

As our navigators of old discovered from the first lodestones, each magnet has a north end and a south end; and between magnets, opposites attract (N to S, S to N) and similarities repulse (N to N, and S to S).

The logical consequence is that all the objects in the universe, including ourselves, are being attracted, repulsed and energized by magnets and magnetic forces.

Magnets and magnetic forces power the universe, keep us in place and cook the evening meal.

That’s quite a job for the simple kitchen magnet, but that little magnet and the family it holds are the center of our homes and our world.

You don’t have to look far to be surprised and astounded by what surrounds us.

Opposites do attract and similarities do repulse.

The force will be with you always.

Grandpa Jim

Life is too much fun to be stuck in the body of a complaining person.

At 5:30 am, I head to men’s group. I do it for the donuts. We get donuts and coffee, and I love blueberry donuts. There are few things that will get me to a meeting at o’dark.thirty in the morning, but a blueberry donut will.

After we stand around, munch and try to talk, we watch a video. This morning’s video is on patience, and it has a football theme. We watch and then we split into small groups, sit and talk.

Because many of the guys have kids in school, we meet during the school year only. Like the kids, we get holidays and summer off. And, we don’t take directions well. So, the coordinators assign new small groups each semester, but no leaders. We don’t follow the leader well.

“Ok, who wants to be leader today?” one of the guys asks. “You,” we all answer. “Ok,” but next time it rotates. . . .  First question, are we impatient?” “Yes,” “Sure,” “Dumb question,” echo around the table. “Ok, why?”

Silence.

“Control?” the guy beside me volunteers. “Yeah,” another chimes, “I have to control my boys. They never do what I ask when I ask. I have to complain, complain, complain.” “You got that right, my family has to be controlled. The dog doesn’t even listen to me.”

Laughter.

“At work, I have to control the workers.” “At work, I have to control the boss.”

More laughter.

“I’m taking a leadership course.” We listen more closely. “And they tell us, it’s not: ‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you;’ it should be: ‘Do unto others as they want you to do for them.’”

We think.

The guy beside me starts talking. “I went to a couples retreat with my wife and the coordinator said something about how not to let things build up. When I’m bothered by something my wife did, I’m not supposed to yell at her and tell her what to do, I should say, ‘That hurts me when you do that.’ When she hears those words, she’s not supposed to bring up the ten things I did in the last ten minutes that hurt her, she’s supposed to stop and say, ‘Tell me more about what bothers you. I want to understand. Will you forgive me?’ Then I forgive her and I don’t bring it up again.”

We all think some more.

The coffee is starting to help.

Across the table, our temporary leader scratches his head. “So, you’re both saying, if I understand you: don’t control them, control us?”

“I have small children.” It’s the young guy to my right. “When I get up in the night and walk down the hall to check the four-month old, I step on the boys’ toys. I used to yell into their room, and then someone gave me this book. It was about the little things you can change in your life. Put two teaspoons of sugar in my coffee instead of three. Don’t take the first piece of pie, pass it around and take a smaller piece. I thought about that, and after I said goodnight to the boys, I picked up their toys in the hall. Later, when I walked to the baby’s room, I stopped and watched the boys sleeping in their beds.”

“They’ll remember that.” It’s the older gent across the way. “They love you, and they’ll remember what you did for them.”

We all nod our heads.

“It’s 7:15,” our leader announces. “Time to leave. Next week, one of you guys is in control.”

Laughter, shaking hands, a good parting.

Until next week and another donut.

PATIENCE

We have to work on it.

And watch the sleeping babies.

Life is too much fun to be stuck in the body of a complaining person.

Grandpa Jim

Opposites attract.

We are intrigued by people who are different than us.

On the other hand, we move away from those who are too much like ourselves.

Similarities repulse — we have all seen this at parties.

Opposites attract and similarities repulse.

This fundamental principle is at the heart of human relationships and electricity.

Everybody and everything is composed of atoms. Each atom has a nucleus or center composed of protons, each with a positive charge, and neutrons, with no charge. For the nucleus, think of our sun. Around the nucleus, electrons, each with a negative charge, spin and race. For the electrons, think of the planets circling the sun.

That is an atom, and that is where we and electricity start.

Now, a positive particle (proton) would normally push away from another positive particle (proton) – the same with two negative particles (electrons). And, a positive particle (proton) would normally be attracted to and move toward a negative particle (electon) – and vice versa. That’s how parties work, and that’s how atoms should work. But, atoms don’t act this way. Nuclear energy keeps the positive protons together in the nucleus, and nuclear energy keeps the negative electrons spinning around but not toward the nucleus.

I hope this illustration helps you to see how powerful nuclear energy must be to keep all those similar personalities in close quarters. No party would last long with that mix packed in the kitchen. You couldn’t hold it together. There would be a blowup for sure. And, that is exactly what happens when you mess with the balance inside the atom – a nuclear explosion.

We don’t want that, but we do want to use that incredible nuclear energy in productive ways — if we can.

One way has been discovered — with the help of metals and magnets.

We’ve all played with magnets. When you put a magnet near a piece of metal, what happens? They attract, they snap together, you can pull the metal with the magnet, and you can have all sorts of fun. The magnetic field of the magnet creates a positive force that attracts the negative electrons in the metal. The magnet causes the metal electrons to jump, flow and reach toward the magnet. I don’t know that anyone understands how the magnet taps into the nuclear or pent-up energy of the atom, but it does. The metal electrons move toward the magnet.

Magnets make metal move.

Now, let’s move on to electricity.

Electric wires are made out of metal. If we were to follow one of the electric wires in your house, back inside the wall, outside, up the pole, from tower to tower, continuing out of town and finally into the power plant in the country, we’d find the wire looping around a spinning magnet-containing contraption called a generator. That generator has a rotator, a shaft and an assembly made up of magnets surrounded by our wire tied around and around the whole whatsyacallit. When wind, water or steam energy is used to turn the shaft, the magnets spin and the electrons in the wire jump and move and run after the spinning magnetic field.

Those running electrons are electricity.

They are so excited that the electrons keep moving along the wire jumping and bumping from metal atom to metal atom all the way back to your house where you wear them out in an electric light bulb, on the stove making dinner, powering the TV for your favorite show or surging through the computer for work and play.

And you thought it was just a switch.

Keep those electrons moving.

It’s the power of attraction.

Just a little nuclear.

Grandpa Jim

“Honey, for this new year my new name is the ‘Year Of Salad’ or YOS for short.”

“That’s not the name of a person. That’s something to do.”

“Exactly, for 2014 I am going to eat more salad and less of other not so healthy foods. Call me ‘YOS’ to encourage me. You know like, ‘Hey, YOS, let’s get something to eat that works with your name, my sweet ‘YOSter.’”

“You are a nut, but okay if it will help with your resolution, I will call you my nutty ‘YOSter.”

* * *

That’s what we all need: help with our New Year’s Resolutions.

One definition of “resolution” is “the action to solve a problem.” So, you begin formulating a resolution for the New Year by first identifying a problem. My problem was: “Honey, the lettuce is rotting in the refrigerator.” (Now, that’s a problem, and wasted food is wasted money.) Her answer was, “You need to do something about that.” “What,” I yelled. “Eat the lettuce before it melts into slimy green paper.” Well, that is an action.

Now, we come to the other part of the definition of “resolution,” which is “the firm decision to do, or not to do, something.” It is not enough to see an action to solve a problem. A resolution means you are going to take the action to solve the problem: I am going to make the firm decision to eat more lettuce before I have to scrape it out of the fridge. I am committed to solving the problem of lonely lettuce by eating the weird green stuff before the leafy monster becomes inedible and obnoxious to view. And, by doing this, I will improve the visual and olfactory appearance of our ice box, my dietary intake and my health — I hope.

The Year of Salad has commenced.

I am the YOS.

How about you?

LA Fitness, which is an exercise organization, asked 2,000 people what their resolutions were for 2013. I know that’s a year ago, but apparently people are slower to resolve this year or journalists are tired about writing articles about what’s being resolved. So, we’re stuck with 2013 for the moment.

Interestingly, the #1 resolve was to read more books. I guess these were healthy people walking out of the club after thoroughly working out, because the top of the list for almost every other year has been to eat better, exercise more and lose weight (which is what’s really behind the YOS, if I were to be brutally honest with my kitchen). However, I am beginning to think I may have missed something about resolutions that is not in the definitions.

What about specific foods? There it is at #20 on the list: Eat less chocolate. Yes, the first food specifically mentioned is chocolate, and it is way down the list. What do you think that means? Something is happening here. Everyone loves chocolates. Ever since the Mayans shared their secret with the wider world, all peoples of our Earth have acknowledged a fondness and resolve to consume their shares of chocolate. So, this can’t be what it says. It must be a resolve to eat chocolate, but to do so more carefully or more hiddenly or only dark chocolate except on Sundays. I am beginning to see into the sweet secret of resolutions.

At #40 on the list, we have the resolution to “Do a bungee jump.” Wait a minute here, do folks really want to tie a rubber band to their ankle and jump off a bridge? I don’t think so. The bottom of the list is enlightening and begins to reveal what may really be going on with the year-start resolves.

These things we put in resolutions are the opposite or what we say – in a friendly and not extreme sort of way (because it is us talking to us). When we say “more books,” we’re really saying “I’m very happy with what I’m reading now.” When “less chocolate,” we’re thinking “Who am I kidding?” When we write “more bungee jumping,” we are really thinking “WHO AM I KIDDING?”

Yes, we do want to eat, exercise and weigh better, but no one pays attention to those resolutions and we all know what they and the others mean: We want to be me, and stay just that way, please, and thank you for not paying too close attention to what I’m saying or resolving.

* * *

“Hey, my YOSter nut, it’s Friday. Let’s go out for dinner.”

“Sounds great, Honey. I’ve just been thinking about that.”

“Thinking about leafy green salads, I bet, for the Year of the YOS.”

“Well, actually, I was thinking about a nice big juicy steak, and I know just the place.”

“But, my YOS, your resolution, or have you forgotten your arguments for a cleaner fridge and a healthier you?”

“Not at all, I just realized the joy of a true resolution is not keeping it, at least all the time, and just being YOU.”

“YOU are a nut, but a happy one.”

“Exactly.”

* * *

Enjoy your New Year’s Resolutions.

You know, I think they’re meant to be fun.

The Year Of U is YOU.

Go YOS,

Grandpa Jim

He tosses the dice. And . . . the winner is!

That was perhaps the most famous roll of the dice in the history of motion pictures.

In the 1955 movie “Guys and Dolls,” Sky Masterson (Marlon Brando) bets one dozen gamblers that he will pay them each $1,000 if he loses one roll of those dice. However, if he wins, all twelve must accompany Sky to a revival at the Save-a-Soul Mission hosted by the beautiful but distant Sarah Brown. Unbeknownst to the irreverent gamblers, Sky has a side bet with Sarah that if he brings her twelve genuine sinners, she’ll accompany him on trip to Havana.

The dice bounce against the wall. And . . . the number is!

In the next scene, twelve forlorn souls walk with their heads down toward the house of prayer and Sarah Brown.

Sky won that toss. But . . . what was that number?

When rolling two standard six-sided dice, the number “7” has a 6 in 36 (1 in 6) chance of being rolled (1–6, 6–1, 2–5, 5–2, 3–4, or 4–3), the most favorable of any number. Seven is the lucky number, because it is the number with the greatest probability of showing, a likelihood of 1 in 6, or a 7 about 17% of the time. (717 is my favorite number, so the high probability of seeing 7’s is an encouragement to me, whatever the game or the year.)

When the digits turned over this past New Year’s Eve, the number that appeared for our New Year is 2014. And, when you add the digits (2+0+1+4), the sum of the numbers for this year is “7,” Lucky 7.

We are on a roll.

In all of the years in this millennium (1,000 year period), from the year 2000 to the year 2999, there will be only a very few years with digits in place that add to “7.” My rough sieving shows five groups of years: 2005 (and its combinations of 2050 and 2500); 2014, this year (and its combinations of 2041, 2104, 2140, 2410 and 2401); 2023 (and it’s combinations of 2032, 2302, 2203, 2230 and 2320); 2113 (and its combinations of 2131 and 2311); and 2122 (and its other combination of 2212). If you add up these possible combinations, you get only twenty (20) years in the Third Millennium that will add to “7.” That’s a 20 in 1,000 chance of a “7” year, 1 in 50, or a 2% chance.

Therefore, the numbers tell us that it is over 8 times more likely to roll a seven in dice than to celebrate a Lucky 7 New Year. So, 2014 is a very special year.

But, back to that dice game and its outcome.

We’ll never know for sure, but I think Sky rolled a “7” to lead those gamblers to the mission and Sarah.

Don’t worry. Sarah won the gamble and the game. She and Sky did not go to Havana, the two were happily married, and Sky gave up gambling to play in the mission band.

With results like that, you have to admit a roll of the dice can be pretty lucky indeed.

And, with 2014, we’ve done even better to beat the odds.

Roll on Lucky 7 — we’re with you all the way.

“Luck, Be a Lady”

Grandpa Jim