I Need Answers!

We never really got a lot of backstory on Molly Malone


Didn't she marry that Sam guy on the TV show with the bar?  


Wrong Malone.

So anyway, today's Status refers to the Irish folk song "Molly Malone."  You've all heard it, regardless of how Irish you are outside of March 17th.  It's the one which goes "Alive alive Oh!  Alive alive Oh!  Cockles and Mussels alive Oh!"  From the song, which is something of an unofficial anthem of Dublin and has even resulted in an aesthetically questionable bronze status of the fictional heroine, we know that Molly was a fishmonger, presumably following in her parents' footsteps.

Aside from that and the fact that Molly died of "a fever," and it's implied that this occurred while Molly was still fairly young, we know pretty much jack squat about the girl.

For example, career-wise it is established that both of her parents were also fishmongers, each with their own barrow for wheeling around the aforementioned cockles and mussels.  Did Molly grow up wanting to be a fishmonger as well, or did she have other designs for life and fell back on this as a career?  Did she inherit one of her parents' barrows, if so which one, and if not, where are the two other barrows?  Did she have to apprentice as a fishmonger in order to afford her own barrow?  Did she sell any actual fish?  Both cockles and mussels are types of molluscs, and not technically classified as "fish."  From what we know for certain, Molly is better described as a "shellfishmonger," though that is admittedly more difficult to work into song.  We also don't know how good of a shellfishmonger she was.  Her level of success at peddling cockles and mussels is completely unknown, which leads to some concern if a lack of salesmanship led to a destitute living and thus her health problems. 

Molly's personal life is also a complete unknown.  All we know about her we learn from some unnamed lyrical narrator who first saw her wheeling around her barrow in Dublin.  We're told she was a sweet girl, which certainly is to her credit, but can we rely on the narrator's judgement?  We don't know what the narrator's relation to Molly was.  Was he a distant relative who had never seen her until she was a shellfishmonger, a stranger passing by on the street, or a potential suitor?  Given the fact that the narrator seems to have known Molly for some amount of time (from when he first sees her selling shellfish from a barrow until after she dies of a fever...I would assume this takes a few weeks at a minimum), I think we can discount the passing stranger theory.  Given that the narrator specifically points out that girls in Dublin are "so pretty" and still singles out Molly, I would argue that the narrator is a potential suitor for Molly, though his or her amount of success in pursuing a relationship with Molly is never revealed.  Along those lines, we don't actually know if Molly is pretty.  Dublin girls apparently are, but Molly is only ever described as "sweet."  I'll give her the benefit of the doubt and say that at least the narrator found her particularly attractive.

Did Molly Malone ever meet Rosie McCann?   Sure, the River Bann is pretty far north of Dublin, but either of the two may have traveled and crossed paths at some point.


You may want to do a quick search for "The Star of the County Down" to understand that joke. 


Was Molly happy in the life she chose or had chosen for her?  I think we'd all like to believe that until Molly contracted her fever (and even that's not really well laid out), Molly was perfectly content pushing around her barrow crying "Cockles and Mussels Alive, Alive Oh!"

Until somebody makes a movie about her, I don't think we'll ever really know for sure. 

See Also: Lewis Black Horse Story

Ask me about my Slinky


I will do no such thing.  This sounds horrifying.  


It's really not.  It's just a whimsical story that I was reminded of recently.  Also, it's your job to set up these stories for me.


Fine, fine.  What's the deal with your Slinky?  Also, when do I get a raise?  


Well, strictly speaking, there's nothing all that noteworthy about my Slinky.  It's your standard issue metal Slinky...not like those crappy plastic ones that don't work...real old-fashioned Slinky.  But before I can tell you that story, I need to tell you this story:

I got ice cream. 

I originally asked for a strawberry sundae with chocolate chip ice cream.  Sounds delicious, right?  Of course it does.  The server goes to create my sundae and comes back a few moments later.  She says that they don't have any chocolate chip ice cream, but she can give me vanilla ice cream and put chocolate chips on it, asking if that would be okay. 

My brain completely shut down.

It's certainly a perfectly acceptable compromise (and one that I ultimately approved, by the way) but at the time it was proposed to me, I just couldn't deal with it.  It just made no sense that I would have to be asked this question since that's all that chocolate chip ice cream is...ice cream with chocolate chips in it.  It makes no difference if the chocolate chips are added at the factory, or at the ice cream stand.  At the same time, I understand that this is not strictly speaking what I had asked for, so the server wanted to clarify with me that I would be amenable.  Both of these thoughts were going through my head at the same moment, and I completely short-circuited...standing with a vacant look on my face for a second or two before mumbling something possibly resembling English with a head nod of affirmation.  My ice cream was ultimately delightful, and I even left my change in the tip jar. 

I had to then explain this story to the other folks I was with that day, and it reminded me of the Slinky story which is in the same vein, but far more amusing.

A while back, I decided that my office needed a Slinky.  I have no idea why I decided this, but that's what needed to happen.  As one is wont to do when in need of a Slinky, I went to the toy store in the local mall.  After wandering the store aimlessly in search of Slinkies, I finally notice a small box of them directly next to the cash register.  As in, the display was touching the cash register...could not fit a slinky in between the box of Slinkies and the physical box that is the cash register.  This point is important.  I walk up to the counter with arms 100% empty...I take a single Slinky from the display, move it no more than 9 inches to the side to place it on the counter for the cashier to ring it up.  The cashier picked up the Slinky, scanned it using the bar code reader on the cash register, looked me square in the eye and said the most amazing thing I've ever heard come out of a human being.  The cashier asked me, "Do you need any batteries?" 

My brain completely shut down. 

I spent time clarifying the location of the Slinky display to illustrate the point that my entire interaction with the cashier took place in the span of less than 12 inches, and involved a single motion of picking up a Slinky and placing it on the counter.  I had nothing else in my hands, was making no other purchases in the store, and had shown no interest whatsoever in any item other than the Slinky.  Why the cashier could have POSSIBLY thought I needed batteries to power a Slinky was a puzzle that my brain stumbled to piece together for, I am not making this up, a full five seconds. 

I'm normally at least fairly quick-witted, and have fun and sarcastic things to say when I'm presented an opportunity, but not in this case.  I completely forgot how to human right then as I contemplated the events that led to this question.  I stood there, with my mouth agape and probably drooling a little as I tried to formulate the correct answer to a question this mind-boggling.  Should I ask the cashier to check to the box to see what size battery the Slinky needed?  Should I explain wave physics and how it applies to Slinkies?  Should I ask why in the name of all things good and plenty I would need batteries for a Slinky?  Should I simply ask if the cashier even knew what the Slinky was, and why the question they had just asked was so unfathomable?  Or should I stand there for a full 5 seconds looking stupid, then mumble, "uhh....n...n...no?" before paying and walking out of the store, brain matter oozing from my ears? 

I'll let you decide which ending actually happened. 


On that note, Jeremy Is Is The Office will be Out Of The Office next week, returning on monday, August 8th with all new Instant Messenger goodness.  See you all then! 

I'm Thinking Oscars

Jeremy’s Screenplay:  In a post-apocalyptic world with an energy crisis, children intentionally misbehave to get coal from Santa in “The Legend Of Kringle” 

God save me, I actually almost want to see that movie.  

Well, before you make up your mind, do note that it's not the silly action romp you may be thinking.  It's actually much darker.  I'm shooting for a PG-13 rating at minimum, since some scenes contain graphic violence, coarse language, and disturbing images.  

The MPAA can go home for the day, I guess.

So, in a far-off dystopian future, the war-ravaged remains of earth's civilizations stand: crumbling buildings, ash-darkened skies, and wandering nomadic tribes of people huddled around burning barrels with fuel running low.  Long ago, the internet and virtually all books and records were destroyed, and the lines between factual history and urban legend have been blurred.  New religions have sprouted up based on passed-down stories of times gone by.  People worship the saviors of olden times, including Jesus, Vishnu, the Elements, and Tom Hanks.  Classic fairy tales and morality stories have taken on truth as people tell the verses of Cinderella, Hansel and Gretel, and Alice in Wonderland, believing the events the same way we now believe the fantasized lives of cowboys and medieval knights.  One story in particular, has developed a wide band of followers.  The story of a benevolent old man from the north who donates toys to needy children once every year...the Legend of Santa Claus.  

Hopeful that Kris Kringle, "Kringle," as he is known, survived the war and has passed his mantle down to an apprentice waiting for worthy followers, a nation of young people (not unlike the Neverland kids in Disney's "Hook," but far less cartoony) realize their need is not for charity and distractions, but for survival.  The classic tale of Kringle contained a clause (for obvious reasons, we will avoid use of the word "clause" in the film itself) wherein misbehaving children will receive a stocking full of coal on Christmas Eve.  Knowing that the coal is the difference between life and death for themselves and their families (See?  The film has a heart, too), and knowing there are merely 12 days left until Christmas (We'll throw that one in there, just to see if anyone in the audience gets it), the kids, led by a main protagonist (I'm thinking "The Walking Dead"'s Chandler Riggs) go on a crime spree unequaled in cinema.  We see the aftermath of these actions...entire cities on fire, beaten people lie dying in the street, explosions ring out in the distance, gangs of children mercilessly beating random people with bats and chains, tire tracks weaving around a trail of bodies...it's really quite gruesome, which is where we get our PG-13 rating...maybe even stretching into R territory.  Snow starts to fall, and the angry mob settles, knowing that it's Christmas Eve, and they've done all they can.  Our hero returns to his home, says his last prayers to Kringle and goes to bed, too anxious to fall asleep, jumping at every random noise, and counting the minutes until December 25th and the salvation of his society. 

Needless to say, Chandler wakes up on Christmas morning not to a stocking full of coal, but to a despondent family who has lost all hope.  Our hero, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes, returns to bed, reaches below and pulls out a small book....we zoom in on the cover..."The Easter Bunny."  Fade to black. Roll Credits.

Later on, we can start buzz for the sequel, "The Legend Of Kringle II: The Search For Santa" in which a slightly older Chandler leads an expedition to the North Pole to find out what ever became of "Kringle."  

This Post Bites

Here’s a Fun Fact!  A Florida man had his hand bitten off by an alligator, and was later arrested for illegally feeding an alligator

Well, it's not quite as funny as it sounds...

Do you really have to take my fun away?

It's what I do.

So, yes...the guy was trying to feed a fish to the alligator, so he was actually feeding it illegally.  The illegal feeding was not, in fact, his hand.  Though, it does make for a much more amusing headline when you leave that little bit out.  

No word on the rumor that his pet dog is named Smee.

I'm sure he has at least removed all of the ticking clocks from his house.  Neighborhood children now refuse to grow up. 

And with that, we're off.  Second star to the right, and straight on until tomorrow, when Jeremy has to come up with a new Sametime Status.  

Poor Turkey

Ice Cream Truck + Doppler Effect = Funny

Ice cream man ice cream man ice cream man!!!

Please join me as I take you on an aural journey though a mystical place known as "the road I live on."  

Off in the distance, children laugh and giggle as an electronic calliope chimes out a simple, yet jaunty version of "Turkey In The Straw."  It is the unmistakable sound of the ice cream truck making its local rounds to deliver frozen treats to the neighborhood kids.  The mood is joyous and playful as the little monsters load up on their sugary snacks.  It's not long before the crowd is sated and its time for the truck to move on. 

The truck proceeds down the road, but having reached the far southern end of the neighborhood, there are no more playgrounds, no more gathering places, and no more smiling faces running toward the street, dragging parents and wallets in their wakes.  It is time for the truck to move on to the next neighborhood in the hopes of spreading cheer and cavities.  The engine revs up and the truck speeds down the road, past a local homeowner, let's call him "Jeremy," on its way to other grounds.  While the customers have all come and gone, the music never ceases.  The turkey still in the straw and/or the hay.  

As the truck zooms by, a funny thing happens.  The Doppler effect takes control of the music, and for the next few seconds, the pitch of the music gets ever lower, slowly transforming the poor turkey into a horrible (Dare I say "Foul") version of the song, completely out of tune with itself.  It sounds as if the turkey found its way out of the straw and is now falling off a cliff coyote-style, descending into musical madness.  "Jeremy" listened for a few more seconds before making his way inside, slightly saddened by the fate of the poor turkey.   

And he no longer wanted ice cream.