Check this out!

ah567@xxxxxxxxxxx (George W. Miklas) · Sun, 15 Jan 1995 13:51:20 -0500

In today's paper, I read an article where the author referred to the
harmonica in outer space.  I don't know how to react.  The quote is

"...If astronomers annonced that they had detected...a harmonica measuring
67 light-years across, we'd print this...with a little chart converting 
light-years to football fields so that you...would have a better grasp of 
the story....."

This statement is almost to demean the harmonica in comparison to football.
What do you all think?  With alot of funny reading to get into the quote, 
here is the article:

Reprinted from The Youngstown Vindicator
Sunday, January 15, 1995, Page A2

DAVE BARRY

Astronomy gives us paws to reflect on theory.

I know you probably have a lot on your mind already, but you should be
aware that 90 percent of the universe is missing.

At least that's what astronomers are saying.  I personally wouldn't
know.  My only exposure to the universe was an astronomy course I took
in my sophomore year at Haverford College (motto: "We Never Heard of YOU,
Either"),  and the only astronomical principal I learned was that, because
of the rotation of the Earth about its axis, astronomy class started WAY
too early in the morning to actually attend in person.

Important work:  I needed to sleep late in college because I usually stayed
up late working with my roommates, Rob Stavis, Bob Stern and Ken Stover,
on important academic projects such as ordering pizza or assembling the
Two-Man Submarine.

This was a miniature submarine that we obtained by sending $9.95 away to
a company that advertised in Marvel comics.  It came in a small, light-
weight, very flat box, but when we assembled all the parts, we had an
actual working two-man submarine in every possible respect except that
(1) The two men could not be in it simultaneously, and (2) being
constructed on cardboard, it was not ideally suited for the underwater
environment.

But it was perfect for the dormitory environment.  We used it to impress
women.  On Friday nights, we'd spray plenty of Right Guard brand deodorant
in our armpits, then go over to Bryn Mawr College, pick up our hot dates
and bring them back to our dormitory room, which was romantically
illuminated by an orange flashing light that was originally part of a
traffic barricade.

The theory was that our dates would take one look at this flashing light
reflecting off the Two-Man Submarine and be driven wild with sexual
desire.  For reasons that are still not clear, this never happened.
Maybe we didn't use enough Right Guard.

Didn't learn:  But the point is, what with one academic activity or
another, I failed to learn much about the universe, or anything else,
which is why I went into the field of journalism.  We journalists make it
a point to know very little about an extremely wide variety of topics;
this is how we stay objective.  We are also extremely impressed with
scientists, and we will, frankly, print just about any wacky thing
they tell us, especially if it involves outer space.

Black holes:  For example, we're always printing stories about "black
holes," even though nobody here in journalism (and we travel extensively)
has ever actually see a black hole, which is this alleged object that
sucks everything into itself and never lets anything back out, like a
vending machine, or Senator Ted Kennedy.

We journalists LOVE astounding astronomical things like that.  If
astronomers announced that they had detected, in a distant galaxy, by
squinting really hard through their telescopes, a harmonica measuring
67 light-years across, we'd print this on the front page, with a
little chart converting light-years to football fields so that you,
the layperson, would have a better grasp of the story.

Remember this?  This is why many newspapers devoted front-page space to
the story a couple of months ago - you may have seen this - reporting that
two teams of astronomers who have been using the Hubble Space Telescope
have announced that they're unable to locate 90 percent of the matter that's
supposed to be in the universe.

Of course your immediate reaction, as a layperson, is to say to these
astronomers:  "Of COURSE you've been unable to locate it, you idiots!
You're using the Hubble Space Telescope, which needed $500 millions in
repairs before it could distinguish between a star and a dead bug on the
lens."

Well, I don't think we should be so harsh.  If trained astronomers
equipped with pocket protectors say that 90 percent of the universe is
missing, then I say we should believe them, and I say we should help them
find it.

I know where to look:  I'm guessing that a good 60 to 70 percent  of it
can be found in my office.  I have accumulated a LOT of stuff over the
years, including (I am not making any of this stuff up) 12 different
types of beer (including "Bone Beer" and "Jumping Cow Amber Ale");
a can of pork brains in milk gravy; a year's supply of anti-flatulence
products; several dozen miniature replicas of the Oscar Mayer Wiener-
mobile; a toy gun that makes rude bodily noises; and the entire
preserved reproductive tract of a cow.  (I'm saving this last item for
exactly the right prank concept; it will probably involve Newt Gingrich.)

So let's say 65 percent of the universe is in my office; even when we add
the 10 percent that the astronomers found, we're still missing 25 percent.

I don't know where it went, but I have a pretty good idea who is
responsible:  dogs.  The person who tipped me off to this is Darrell Libby
of Spokane, WA., who wrote me a letter pointing out that, when dogs dig in
yards, they produce holes, but they do NOT produce piles of dirt.  There
might be a little dirt lying around, but never enough to fill in the holes.

Scientific theory:  Darrell's theory is that "the dirt is being pawed into
the ozone layer," or that "enough dirt is being tossed into the sky that
another planed will be formed somewhere between Earth and Mars."  Thanks to
the Hubble astronomers, we now know that this is not the case; a more
logical explanation is that dogs have somehow figured out how to paw the
dirt into (speaking of Newt Gingrich) a completely different dimension.

Clearly, they must be stopped before they paw the entire universe out of
existence.  This is a time for all humans to set aside their petty
differences and join together to combat this deadly menace, each of
us contributing what he or she can.  I'll throw in some pork brains
in milk gravy.