It's Called "Space" for a Reason

Let's suppose you've maxed out your Visa card. You start looking for ways to economize because, with the economy the way it is, making the mortgage payment, car payment, insurance payment and a myriad of other payments is starting to strain the ol' wallet.

So you call a family meeting. "Kids, I know you like the school lunch pizzas and how you hate brown-bagging in front of your buddies, but times are hard. So, no more lunch money. Also, all allowances are hereby cut in half. And you gotta start sharing stuff. No more new clothes unless you grow out of something, and no more video games, no more PPVs. Give me your cell phones. From now on, you use the house phone."

After the kids stomp off moping to their rooms, you have a heart-to-heart with your spouse.

"So. Where do you want to go on vacation this summer? I was thinking we send the kids to Gramma's and you and I fly to Hawaii and cruise the islands."

"But I thought you said we have to cut back."

"Listen, I just got a new MasterCard. We'll use it. Plus, we'll quit putting aside money for our retirement and the kids' college for a couple of years. Push comes to shove, they can take out student loans."

See what just happened? You've raised your household debt to pay for a grand adventure to end up with a few pics and a been there, done that, and you did it at the expense of both daily comfort and long-term investment.

But don't be too hard on yourself. You're only following the example of our government. As of January 29, 2012, the national debt is $15,256,264,650,918. It is increasing at the rate of $3.94 billion per day.

Currently, the government is looking at paring heretofore sacrosanct programs. There is talk of reducing defense spending, extending the age and applying means testing for Social Security benefits, and raising premiums for Medicare, Part B, among others. Sounds like a responsible attempt at reining in debt, huh?

Except for the fact that while they are looking at cutting the expenses of programs that make daily living bearable and that provide at least intangible return on taxpayer investments, officials are planning on spending billions and billions on a grand adventure that offers, well, a few pics and a been there, done that.

In these hard, economic times, our president wants to land astronauts on a near-Earth asteroid as a stepping stone to a manned mission to Mars. Congress, not wanting to incur the wrath of those facing unemployment due to termination of the space shuttle program, will no doubt go along.

The target asteroid is Eros. We've already landed a spacecraft there, launched in 1996 at a cost of $224 mil (1996 dollars). A manned mission taking a direct route will spend six months getting there and is estimated to cost the same as an Apollo moon mission. The Apollo program cost $24 billion in 1969 dollars. You do the math.

Know what the 1996 Eros probe found? Nothing. Know what astronauts will find on Eros? Nothing. It's a rock. We already know that. And never mind that for the duration of the trip the crew will have to drink its own recycled urine. Hey, I've drunk worse--Carling Black Label, Tab--you just have to add a wedge of lemon, is all.

While cutting Defense is a relatively easy sell, you and I both know no politician is going to cut either Social Security or Medicare, not and expect to be reelected, anyway.

But we can stop joyriding around the heavens. It's "space." Get it?

Of course, I could be wrong--novel as that concept is.

Me Castle, Su Castle

The "Castle Doctrine" gives Ohioans the right to use lethal force to protect their person and property, but the Butler County prosecutor said that does not mean a homeowner may arbitrarily blow away an intruder.

"While your home is and should be respected as your castle, the use of deadly force must actually be used in self-defense and not just because someone has unlawfully entered your castle," said he.

The prosecutor neglected to suggest steps a homeowner might take to avoid performing a post-partum abortion on a home invader, so I've come up with a few. Feel free to clip and laminate them for use as a checklist in case your home suffers a break-in.

Step 1: Charm the perp. Perhaps you remember the scene in "Young Frankenstein", wherein "Fronk-un-steen" has himself locked in a room with the monster after giving instructions that he is not to be released, no matter how much he begs and pleads. After begging and pleading to no avail, he attempts to engage the monster through flattery. Next thing you know, they're on stage "puttin' on the Ritz." The monster just needed a little self-esteem, a little love, don't you know.

You've been awakened by a noise; you get out of bed to investigate, and you find yourself face-to-face with an armed burglar. Look him straight in the eye and, with a smile, say, "My, how big and strong you are! And clever, too! You managed to gain entry to our humble abode without benefit of key and without setting off our alarm. Did you disconnect it yourself? What skill! Bet you could have been an electrical engineer! How proud your folks must be!"

Step 2: Empathize with him. "Been on hard times, huh? What, you get downsized? Can't find another job? I understand. After all, you gotta eat, right? How 'bout if I get my wife in here to fix us an early breakfast? How do you like your eggs?"

Step 3: Offer solutions. "Tell you what. Why don't you just put that gun down--what is that, anyway? A .357? Nice piece of hardware that--have some food, and we'll make up the guest room for you. Things always look better after a good night's sleep. Say, when's the last time you got laid? Honey? Come here and meet our visitor. No, that's okay, you don't have to put on anything."

Step 4: Reassure him. "The cops? No, we haven't called the cops. What say we just leave them out of it. You look like a nice enough guy, just been having a run of bad luck, is all. What you need is a break, and fella, you've come to the right place."

If you've followed these steps carefully, by now the perp has probably given up his gun and is hugging you while crying uncontrollably on your shoulder. And butterflies are flitting about, birds are singing, the sky is blue, little puppies and kitties frolic together on your lawn, and warring armies all over the planet have thrown down their arms, joined hands and are singing Kumbaya.

I'm not afraid of criminals. Generally they are dumber than the rest of us, and sooner or later they will get theirs, one way or another.

What scares me are prosecutors who are concerned about the safety of these thugs. I want prosecutors who will thank me if I pop some piece of anal debris I find in my house without an invitation. After all, I would be saving the government the expense of trying and locking him up, never mind sparing the next victim down the road.

Of course, I could be wrong--novel as that concept is.