I am writing this blog at 10:22 p.m. Wednesday night, and trying really hard not to think about how unbelievably putrid the Rangers’ best players played in the 4-2 loss to Pittsburgh in Game 4, a loss that pretty much ended the Blueshirts season. Just awful. Rick Nash and Marty St. Louis should be too embarrassed to cash their next paychecks.
So Sunday is Mother’s Day, and I sure hope if you’re lucky enough to have your Mom still on this Earth you’ll be able to spend the day with her.
There are lots of great reminders of why Moms are the best, but my friend Sean on Facebook pointed out this Thai commercial for Chinese New Year, oddly enough, about mothers and sons that really hit home.
Hope you enjoy… and call your mother. She worries.
**Next up, I love these kinds of stories, because it shows that freedom of speech only goes so far, in any country.
A man named Gareth Davies, resident of Strood, England, recently had $3,000 of stereo equipment confiscated by the city. Why? Because neighbors complained Gareth was playing Celine Dion music at ungodly volume, all the time.
Yes, Gareth, who no doubt has watched Titanic 423 times, had his 3-D TV, laptop, speakers and a PlayStation 3 confiscated by the city because he wouldn’t stop playing the song at top volume, much to his neighbors’ fury.
‘People have the right to lead a peaceful existence without it being ruined by loud music,’ said Peter Hicks, the council’s portfolio holder for community safety.
‘Anyone who blasts out music or creates other noise nuisance should let this be a warning to them.
“And also, Celine Dion’s screeching is torture on the ears of any right-thinking citizen.”
OK, I made up that last quote. But come on, neighbors can only take so much.
**Finally today, a riddle that’s been in my brain for two days now. Tuesday night my beautiful and quite pregnant wife and I (seriously, it’s amazing watching how this Future Lewis is growing bigger every day inside her) are out at a charity benefit dinner we go to every year, and the warm-up comedian to headliner Susie Essman (from “Curb Your Enthusiasm,” and she was great) named Brian Scott McFadden had this terrific bit about B batteries.
“Why the hell aren’t there “B” batteries?” he asked. “We’ve got A, AA, AAA, and then right to C. What the hell is that about?”
Good question. I mean seriously, it doesn’t make any sense, right? So I went to one of my favorite obscure knowledge resources, MentalFloss.com, and yep, there was the answer:
Around the time of World War I, American battery manufacturers, the War Industries Board, and a few government agencies got together to develop some nationally uniform specifications for the size of battery cells, their arrangement in batteries, their minimum performance criteria, and other standards.
In 1924, industry and government representatives met again to figure out a naming system for all those cells and batteries they had just standardized. They decided to base it around the alphabet, dubbing the smallest cells and single-cell batteries “A” and went from there to B, C and D. There was also a “No. 6” battery that was larger than the others and pretty commonly used, so it was grandfathered in without a name change.
As battery technology changed and improved and new sizes of batteries were made, they were added to the naming system. When smaller batteries came along, they were designated AA and AAA. These newer batteries were the right size for the growing consumer electronics industry, so they caught on. C and D batteries also found a niche in medium- and high-drain applications. The mid-size A and B batteries simply didn’t have a market and more or less disappeared in the U.S.
So there you go. Now you learned at least one thing today.