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May 21, 2013
Bicycle commute right in my wheelhouse
By John Breneman
Finally rode my bike to work on Thursday just a
man and his trusty iron steed.
We're a couple of old-timers, he and I. Combined age: 84.
He's about 33, so that makes me what, 29ish? And though
I am pretty sure we weren't the oldest man-cycle combo to
saddle up for Bike to Work Week, my vintage Peugeot mountain
bike could've been a contender for creakiest contraption
on the mean streets of Portsmouth and Newington that day.
At
least the creaks, rasps and groans emanating mostly from
the crank case drowned out the softer sound of my own knees
grinding (though fortunately not yet "bone on bone"
as my mom is quick to inquire).
Ever since I ditched my Boston commute to join what is
pound-for-pound one of the finest media organizations in
the entire Fourth Estate, I've been periodically flapping
my gums about riding my bike to work ... one of these days.
Experts say cutting the distance one must travel to "bring
home the bacon" has a direct therapeutic impact on
one's mental and physical well-being, with additional benefits
for the psyche, super ego and soul.
The same is true of bicycling. Good for the heart and lungs,
digestion, complexion, muscle tone and, of course, the pancreas.
And it significantly reduces the risk of a range of maladies
including but not limited to rickets, shingles and premature
withering. (Sadly, reports of a more robust and satisfying
sex life remain unconfirmed.)
When I worked in Boston, a bicycle commute just didn't
seem feasible. Sure, I could've rolled down I-95 to 128,
jumped on I-93 south, zipped across the Zakim Bridge and
made it to the newsroom just in time for ...; the end of
my shift.
But I was eager to escape the Beantown rat race. (Don't
get me started on Massachusetts driving. Horns and hand
gestures, angry faces on blithering idiots, close calls
with the clueless. Ah, those weren't the days ...)
Now, from my humble homestead in downtown Portsmouth, the
drive to my post at Pease International Tradeport is a mere
8 to 10 minutes, meaning there are few excuses not to make
the commute by cycle.
My discovery that this would be Bike/Walk to Work Week
set in motion a date with two-wheeled destiny a knobby-tired,
no-petroleum day of car-free karma.
So Thursday was the big day ... to make my carbon footprint
small. Part of the thrill of the round-trip from Market
Square to Pease and back is the presence of a very special
pedestrian bridge right off Woodbury Avenue that allows
walkers and two-wheelers to safely traverse the highway
right at the traffic circle.
The bridge was erected around 1999, back when money could
still be spent for the public good long before a
bunch of powerful jerks decided that investments in stupid
stuff like education and human health was anti-American.
Thanks to this awesome little bridge (find details on it
and other local cycling information at seacoastbikes.org)
we two-wheeled types can steer clear of the highway.
Of course, I was hoping to see some wildlife. I've spotted
deer and turkeys at Pease while driving my horseless carriage.
So, surely freed from the confines of my 2006 Honda
Metal Box I would spy a couple flocks of federally
protected bald eagles, maybe a beaver or a porcupine. This
is a rich habitat for birds but, truth be told, I probably
wouldn't know an upland sandpiper from a pied-billed grebe.
I took it casual and made it to work in about 22 minutes.
Felt super all day long and I highly recommend the experience
to everyone.
For those who'd like to try it but fear you may have forgotten
how to ride a bike, it is, as the saying goes, "like
riding a bike."
First, use a damp cloth to wipe most of the cobwebs from
your vehicle. Next, pray that the tires have enough air.
(They won't, so add some. Don't worry about mixing 1994
air with 2013 air. And if you don't have any air at your
house, you can usually buy some for 50 cents at a gas station.)
Third, grasp your "handlebars" and assume the
position. Once aboard the velocipede shove off, old
sport. Place your feet on the "pedals" and begin
moving them in a circular-type motion.
This should cause the bicycle to begin moving. Do not panic.
Instead calmly utilize the handlebars to steer yourself
in the desired direction, harnessing your innate sense of
balance to avoid tumbling onto the pavement and cracking
open your face and/or skull.
Contrary to the example set by cycling legend Lance Armstrong,
it is not necessary to gobble down fistfuls of steroids
or to siphon off your own blood and replace it with higher-octane
plasma.
For additional tips on bicycling, check out my new worst-sellers
"Road Rash: Friend or Foe" and "Does This
Spandex Make My Butt Look Ridiculous?"
(Bonus points for anyone who rides my childhood dream bike
a green Schwinn Sting-Ray with a banana seat, slick
rear tire and five-speed stick!)
On the ride home, I opted for a quicker pace and made it
back to Market Square in just 15 minutes. Enhancing my exhilaration,
just as I was leaving Pease, a rambunctious jackrabbit bounded
across my path, just feet from my front tire. (Wildlife
sighting: Check.)
Now I'm not the best spokesman for the spoke-wheeled commute
not looking to proselytize the pedal-powered experience.
But if biking to work sounds like fun, my advice is do it.
And let neither crunchy knees nor creaky derailleurs derail
you.
John Breneman, a Herald copy editor and columnist, can
be reached at jbreneman@seacoastonline.com (Twitter: @MrBreneman).
Here's the link to my Sunday
column at the Portsmouth (N.H.) Herald.
3:59 PM | Permalink
May 12, 2013

The mother of all Mother's Days
By John Breneman
Hey, it's Mother's Day. And, like any grown son, I am determined
to do whatever it takes to let my mom know how much she
means to me.
After all, over the last half-century, she has put up with
a lot from her first-born pranks, wisecracks, tantrums
on topics ranging from lima beans (but I hate them) to high-top
sneakers (pleeeaase) as she gracefully guided my
metamorphosis from cranky baby to cranky man. (Look how
beautiful she is in the photo above, posing with yours truly
sporting my favorite Sunday bonnet.)
But enough talk. Let's get to it.
Consistently voted one of the top mothers on the planet
by an independent panel of people to whom she has given
birth, my mom awakens to the intoxicating aroma of the finest
Turkish coffee in all of Portsmouth.
The menu for my custom "breakfast in bed" Extreme
Mother's Day amenity features a dizzying array of culinary
delicacies, including but not limited to French toast imported
from Paris, her beloved lobster mac and cheese, and a mimosa
made with hand-squeezed oranges from the finest Hannaford's
in the land.
Maybe even a pound of eels harvested in Hampton. You probably
heard these little buggers go for as much as $3,000 a pound
in parts of Asia. They sure must be delicious.
Now I know poaching eels is, as they say, eel-legal. But
I figure a real son ought to be able to handle a short jail
term to treat his mom to the mother of all Mother's Days.
On second thought, scratch the eels. And while we're at
it, let's say "no" to the escargot.
But the abnormally large fresh raspberries are served with
a fondue medley featuring melted brown gold from the state-of-the-art
Lindt & Sprungli chocolate factory.
Of course, there will be flowers. But not just the kind
that grow in the dirt and smell pretty. Every mom gets those.
I'm busting out a bouquet hand-blown by Dale Chihuly, the
legendary glass artist whose work she enjoys.
After Leonard Cohen wraps up his personal mini-concert
in her living room, I whisk my mom aboard a hired chopper
for the quick flight down to New York, where we will enjoy
VIP seating at a Broadway play I have written and staged
recounting her remarkable life. (Vanity Fair: "Helen
Mirren is mesmerizing!")
From there, we'll luxuriate in the stretch limo I've hired
to roll up at her choice of Manhattan hotspots the
Gramercy Tavern, Trump's Diner or Forkie's Charcuterie.
Her spa treatment at Ohm is nothing fancy just a
typical full-body avocado immersion bath and hot-gemstone
massage with the usual assortment of brick oven-warmed diamonds,
emeralds and rubies.
While in New York, we visit United Nations headquarters,
where our impassioned plea for world peace a two-person
interpretive drama featuring the elements of modern dance,
opera, hiphop and Kung Fu brought the ambassadors
of East Korea and Malawi to tears.
I don't know if we'll have time to squeeze in tea (and
sweet-buttered marmalade scones) with Hillary Clinton and
Maya Angelou, but I hope so.
From there we skip, hand in hand, to my rented Gulfstream
luxury jet for a quick jaunt to Africa to fulfill my mother's
lifelong dream of frolicking with the meerkats. (Or was
it the dolphins?)
After quick stops at the Pyramids and the Great Wall, we
soar up to Kennebunkport where former president George H.W.
Bush has promised us a ride on one of his cigarette boats.
Swell guy, that Bush.
From there, we submarine it down the coast, up the Piscataqua
and back to Portsmouth. (What, you forgot to rent your mom
a private, submersible watercraft? Mmm.)
Now my mom is not particularly fond of heights so we err
on the side of NOT tandem bungee jumping off the I-95 bridge.
Back home, it is the perfect time to unveil my two-hour
documentary about her remarkable life as a wife, mother
and children's store entrepreneur.
Titled simply "Jill," and narrated of course
by Robert Redford and Jon Hamm, it traces her life story
from her idyllic childhood in Crafton, Pa., to her epic
pilgrimage to York, Maine, and then on to Portsmouth. The
piece concludes with never-before-seen footage of her high
school graduation the most emotionally evocative
piece of film I have ever seen.
So, as you have probably already surmised, the above itinerary
has been slightly exaggerated. (But G. Willikers! It's her
fault really, and my dad's, for sticking me with somewhat
of a wild imagination.)
Though my mom might enjoy a whirlwind, multi-state Mom
Day tour de force, I suspect she would rather spend Mother's
Day what she calls the "traditional" way.
That means working at the family business with her daughter,
then zipping across town to see her daughter's daughter
(my niece if you do the math) in the internationally acclaimed
Portsmouth High School production of "Hansel and Gretel."
(Vanity Fair: "Zoe Sprankle is mesmerizing!")
Hollywood ending: During the standing ovation as
the entire theater echoes with applause, pride and joy
I hug my mom and tell her that I love her. Happy Mother's
Day.
-- 30 --
* This column appeared in the Sunday, May 12, 2013, Portsmouth
Herald. See
more.
Twitter: @MrBreneman
10:03 PM | Permalink
May 5, 2013
Is Sen. Ayotte representing N.H. or
NRA?
By John Breneman
I swear to God, the Senate's infuriating decision to reject
expanded background checks for firearms' purchases despite
90 percent public approval is making me want to shoot (calm
down) my mouth off on this most divisive and vitally
important issue.
As
if more evidence was needed that guns can be extremely harmful,
now poor Sen. Kelly Ayotte has shot herself in the foot
trying to prove what a hard-core Republican she is.
I'm sorry, but I don't know what else you call it. She
apparently analyzed the political landscape in the aftermath
of the Newtown massacre (and all those before it, next one
coming soon), absorbed the data that 90 percent of the public
wanted background checks ... and then voted against the
people who elected her.
And since doing so she's been all over the national news.
You've probably seen some headlines and poll numbers. "Ayotte
approval rating plunges 15 percent." "Newtown
victim's daughter confronts Ayotte at town hall event."
"Ayotte's calculated allegiance to extreme right is
wrong for N.H."
Actually, that last one is just my humble opinion.
Look, Kelly Ayotte is from New Hampshire so she's got that
going for her. I'd much rather like her than have to write
about how she's blowing it. I'm thinking maybe she's just
been getting some bad advice.
Flash back to the Republican National Convention last August.
As part of the payoff for buddying up with John McCain and
Lindsey Graham, Republican "rising star" Ayotte
was awarded a nice speaking spot.
Sadly, her most memorable line was pure political dreck.
"President Obama has never even run a lemonade stand
and it shows."
Really? The bush-league lemonade stand quip leaves a sour
taste as one of the least original lines ever (Louisiana
Gov. Bobby Jindal used it last May and RNC Chairman Reince
Priebus about a week later).
Coincidentally, one of the men whose approval she was courting
GOP nominee Mitt Romney also had never run
a lemonade stand. However, records show he did liquidate
several lemonade operations and issued pink slips to their
pre-teen proprietors.
Ayotte's vote and subsequent blowback provides a new window
into the long-held Republican strategy of making sure absolutely
nothing gets accomplished under President Obama his
opponents have not disguised the fact that they would rather
deny the president any political victories than do their
jobs working for the American people.
This strategy is reprehensible to me.
However, there are examples of Republicans working for
the public good. One is Sen. Pat Toomey, R-Pa., who teamed
up with Sen. Joe Manchin, D-W.Va., to craft the compromise
background-check legislation known as the Manchin-Toomey
proposal.
Sen. Toomey, whose approval numbers have risen in the wake
of his advocacy for this modest gun safety measure, shared
his view of Republican motives after the bill failed to
pass the Senate.
"In the end it didn't pass because we're so politicized,"
he said. "There were some on my side who did not want
to be seen helping the president do something he wanted
to get done, just because the president wanted to do it."
Sen. Ayotte's explanation on why she voted against the
bill, against 90 percent of the populace, defies credulity.
Confronted at a town hall event by a man who said he had
read her four-page explanation of the vote and still did
not understand, Ayotte said, "In terms of a universal
background check, as it's been framed, I have a lot of concerns
of that leading to a registry that will create a privacy
situation for lawful firearms owners."
Kelly Ayotte knows that is bull. She knows that, in an
attempt to achieve compromise, Manchin and Toomey specifically
ban the creation of a federal registry and establish harsh
penalties for doing so. And her attempt to snooker New Hampshire
voters with the far right's "federal registry"
talking point was positively cringe-inducing.
Sen. Ayotte's real answer to the gentleman's simple question
"What's wrong with universal background checks?"
is this: "Powerful people whose money and support
I believe I need do not want background checks or any gun-safety
measures, and their support is more important to me than
working to create a safer world."
Meanwhile, the National Rifle Association holds its annual
meeting this weekend in Houston and the "cold
dead hands" people are, uh, bringing out the big guns.
Ted Cruz. Rick Perry. Bobby Jindal. Rick Santorum. Glenn
Beck!
And, of course, Sarah Palin. (Remember when she featured
Rep. Gabby Giffords and other Democrats on a hit list and
mapped their districts with bull's-eyes? That was before
Giffords was shot in January 2011.)
But the speeches part of what's being billed as
a "Stand and Fight" rally are all a prelude
to the keynote hater. Bullet-brained rock star Ted Nugent.
Back in 2007, Nugent was quoted as saying, "Barack
Obama, he's a piece of (dung). I told him to suck on my
machine gun" and telling Hillary Clinton, while brandishing
two machine guns onstage, "You might want to ride one
of these into the sunset you worthless (witch)."
Yes, that is the man the NRA has chosen to make the big
speech on the closing day of its big convention.
As I said before, I really want to like Sen. Kelly Ayotte.
But first I'm afraid she'll have to chose another path
than rolling with the Ted Nugent wing of the Republican
Party.
-- 30 --
* This column appeared in the Sunday, May 5, 2013, Portsmouth
Herald. See
more.
Follow on Twitter: @MrBreneman
Related stories:
Value
the human race over the arms race
(Dec. 30, 2102, commentary on Newtown)
9:10 AM | Permalink
December 19, 2012
Your holiday horoscope
Have you got all your shopping done? Cards mailed? Packages
shipped? Menus planned? Tree trimmed? Halls decked?
Celebrating the birth of Jesus is truly a joyous time.
But the buildup to the birthday bash can also bring stress.
What with all the bells and candy canes and tinsel and gingerbread
men and pine needles and nutcrackers and fruitcakes and
ribbons and little drummer boys and frankincense and geese-a-laying
and mangers and reindeer and sugar plums and elves and figgy
pudding and mistletoe and singing chipmunks and consumerism
gone haywire.
Have you got the Christmas spirit yet? I thought I had
it a couple days ago, but turns out it might have been just
a head cold.
So now with the winter solstice nearly upon us, unseen
celestial forces have inspired me to put together a holiday
horoscope to help celebrate the birth of our savior (who
apparently was a Capricorn) during that special time of
year when Jupiter aligns with the North Star in the House
of Kringle.
Sagittarius (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): Consult key family
members before spending 30 percent of your net worth on
"holiday bargains." Good day to fill your spiritual
void with ribbon candy. Tis the season for identity theft.
Capricorn (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): Temporarily suppressing
your fears about man's inherent capacity for evil helps
make the holidays more joyful. Avoid truthfulness when talking
to young children about Santa Claus. Have another eggnog.
Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): Beware unrealistic promises
made by an obese bearded man wearing red. Paying more than
$99 for a candy cane could prove fiscally unsound. Lift
your spirits by donning some gay apparel.
Pisces (Feb. 19-March 20): Dashing through the snow
in a one-horse open sleigh could exacerbate an old injury.
Beware Jack Frost nipping at your wallet. Myrrh may be hazardous
to your health.
Aries (March 21-April 19): Wise bargain hunters
may find five golden rings for the price of four. Buying
a Red Ryder BB gun helps ease your emotional pain. Be joyful
and triumphant at dusk.
Taurus (April 20-May 20): Opt for a mundane evening
at home over a three-state shopping spree. Good night to
nestle the children all snug in their beds. Keep tinsel
out of the reach of infants.
Gemini (May 21-June 20): If the weather outside
is frightful, sitting by an indoor fire may prove delightful.
However, shouting "Ho, ho, ho!" could spoil an
intimate moment. Don't lose your mittens.
Cancer (June 21-July 22): It's lovely weather for
a sleigh ride together with a loved one. But be sure to
exercise caution when traveling over the river and through
the woods. Too much mulled cider may cause visions of sugar
plums.
Leo (July 23-Aug. 22): Question the motives of anyone
sporting a button nose and two eyes made out of coal. A
quiet evening with a corn-cob pipe could bring revelations.
Sleep in heavenly peace.
Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): Making an obscene gesture
in a crowded mall parking lot could lead to an unwanted
gunshot wound. Reassess your holiday preparedness with special
focus on yuletide logistics. Avoid chimneys.
Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): An unexpected moment of
serenity is dashed by a TV commercial imploring you to buy
a piccolo. Don't let reason cloud your judgment on matters
involving elves. Stock up on frankincense
Scorpio (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): Don't let a loved one's
hints about "the perfect gift" distract you from
getting him or her a Walmart certificate. Limit contact
with acquaintances who say they will be there "with
bells on." Be good for goodness sake.
By John Breneman
(Twitter: @MrBreneman)
I write a Sunday
column at the Portsmouth (N.H.) Herald.
Read more
horoscopes here
10:05 AM | Permalink
August 11, 2012
Here's an exclusive sneak peek at Republican vice presidential candidate Paul Ryan's Medicare voucher coupons!!

Beat the rush!! CLICK here to clip your jumbo-sized COUPONS!!
Follow
@HumorGazette on Twitter
9:21 AM | Permalink
June 18, 2012
6:36 AM | Permalink
June 8, 2012
Kim Kardashian does NOT endorse miracle sex pill
9:12 AM | Permalink
June 1, 2012
Bush portrait
unveiling accomplished
By John Breneman
George
W. Bush popped by the White House yesterday for old time's
sake -- dishing out his signature knee-slappers at the unveiling
of his official portrait.
And while it was vaguely inspiring to celebrate a rare
moment of bipartisanship, the triumphant return of the Smirker
in Chief also left me cringing.
Because the true portrait we are left with -- despite President
Obama's gracious acknowledgement that he showed "extraordinary
strength and resolve" after 9/11 -- is that of a president
who ignored red-flag warnings about Sept. 11, misled us
into the Iraq debacle and helped fuel the economic meltdown
under his watch.
And never lost his ability to joke about it.
Remember the time (March 26, 2004 at the Radio & Television
Correspondents' Assoc. dinner) he slayed 'em by starring
in a comedy
video in which he pretended to poke around the White House
looking for those phony WMDs?
What Bush found funny, I found appalling -- especially
as I imagined how the parents of a soldier slain in Iraq
must have reacted. But perhaps I was too harsh when I dubbed
Dubya's performance: "A
Comic Bomb."
And maybe I was too hard on the president when I dissected
this
(April 5, 2006) gut-busting standup routine and by saluting
him as "Commander-in-Cheek."
After all, he was the top banana -- a self-styled master
of mixing
laughter with terror. Check out his innate comic
timing as he warms up a crowd gathered at Kansas State University
for a Jan. 2006 talk about terror and 9/11 and spying with
a taste of his
classic "Everybody Loves W." shtick.
In retrospect, perhaps I was too hard on the distinguished
Texas Air National Guard hero in delivering my
armchair diagnosis (Jan. 6, 2006) that he suffered from
a particularly nasty case of "Iraq-tile dysfunction."
But
hey, I did write an (albeit satiric) editorial
endorsing the man (Aug. 31, 2004), opining that
America needed a president "who is not afraid to take
action in the face of questionable intelligence -- a man
capable of making profound, far-reaching decisions undistracted
by knowledge, logic and reason."
Anyway, if with yesterday's East Room monologue Mr. Bush
meant to remind us that the wise-cracking 43rd president
was a stone-cold chucklehead -- all I can say is mission
accomplished.
RELATED MATERIAL:
Images,
essays and videos from what some consider the Golden Age
of Presidential Satire (2000-08)
9:33 AM | Permalink
May 27, 2012
America
inspired me to create this image today
9:33 AM | Permalink
May 25, 2012
America riddled with Political
Irony
Keen observers of the American politial scene understand
that it is rife with irony -- not to mention malfeasance,
mendacity and mind-numbing skullduggery.
Washington is awash in legalized bribery, flip-floppery
and flaming hypocrisy -- churning out a surplus of oxymorons,
regular morons and stone-cold, bought-and-paid-for, bamboozling-the-public
morons.
But back to the irony... The Humor Gazette has learned
that there is an excellent website whose mission is to help
cut through the chaos -- PoliticalIrony.com.
This
is a website
so astute that this week it featured a high-profile plug
for the Humor Gazette, featuring our regal bald eagle boldly
calling out our nation's leaders. Please stop
by for a visit and tell 'em the Humor Gazette sent
you.
Thank you, also, to California-based Humor
Times -- an old-school, new-media
humor publication that "lampoons lame politicians"
while featuring the best in editorial cartoons, columns
and "fake news better than Fox's."
5:39 AM | Permalink
May 24, 2012
Rolling
Stones announce 'Fossils' world tour
The Rolling Stones today announced plans for a worldwide
"Dig the Fossils" tour opening Aug. 18 at Fenway
Park -- marking the first time the Stones have played Boston
since 1918.
Wrinkly frontman Mick Jagger -- now almost fully recovered
from his very funny performance on "Saturday Night
Live" -- was recently named "Sexiest Sexagenarian
Alive" by AARP magazine.
The
Stones (aka "Their Arthritic Majesties")
have updated many of their best-loved songs to reflect their
advanced age. The following is a partial list of old favorites
the band is expected to play.
"Jumpin'
Jack Kevorkian"
"Gimme Assisted Living Shelter"
"19th Digestive Breakdown"
"Grandmother's Little Helper"
"Bypass Surgery for the Devil"
"You Can't Always Get the Prescription Drugs You Want"
"Gray Sugar"
"When the Hip Goes Down"
"Faraway Eyeglasses"
"Start My Pacemaker Up"
"Time is NOT on My Side"
10:51 PM | Permalink
May 21, 2012
Mitt Romney endorsed by Joe the Plumbing Corp. CEO
Mitt Romney's presidential campaign received a major boost
today with an endorsement by an iconic American business
executive -- Joe the Plumbing Corp. CEO.
A
spokesman for Joe the Plumbing Corp. CEO said he supports
Romney's plan to fund tax cuts for the wealthy by cutting
programs that help Joe Six-Pack and Jane Lunch-Bucket. He
also supports Romney's hard-line stance cracking down on
Jose the Illegal Immigrant.
Sources say Joe the Plumbing Corp. CEO is a distant cousin
of Joe the Plumber -- a fixture on the 2008 campaign trail
as John McCain's favorite metaphor for pandering to the
middle class.
Now running for Congress in Ohio, Joe the Plumber is also
plugging a book and filming a hip, 1990s-style sitcom called
"Flush Prince of Bill Ayers." He's also thinking
of actually getting his plumber's license.
Pundits say Romney will soon be announcing new endorsements
from Joe the Birther Joe the Eccentric Billionaire and Joe
the Wall Steet A-Hole.
RELATED STORY: GOP
hires Joe the Carpenter to fix debt ceiling
10:54 AM | Permalink
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