Sorry to start off your new year with such a thought, but hey. I just report the news for the greater good.

Happy Tuesday.

Would that that were the case for many other “trivial” items, often found on the internets and shared willy-nilly by various and sundry as fact. Therefore, allow me once again to straighten records, debunk myths, and right wrongs. As I named these posts 3+ years ago, behold another segment of:

Deception Destroyers

Deception: The Eisenhower Interstate Highway System requires that one mile in every five must be straight, in case air strips are needed in times of war or other emergencies. How do I know this is poppycock? Just ask Richard Weingroff. Or maybe not. He gets a little snippy about the subject. Heh.

Deception: American car horns beep in the tone of F. First, I won’t even comment on what all’s screwy about the syntax “in the tone of F.” My car — a Chevy — beeps one note of F#. Second, I hear other car horns that honk polytonal beeps. Third, I’ve heard cars whose horns beep diminished triads. (Take that, whoever wrote “in the tone of F.”) Don’t even need a reference on this; I want you to believe me because I’m telling you. Maybe it should be rephrased to say that “some” American cars beep F.  For a great explanation, read the last three paragraphs here.

Deception: Albert Einstein failed math in school. When the man was confronted with a clipping of this statement, he said, ”I never failed in mathematics… Before I was fifteen I had mastered differential and integral calculus.”

Deception: George Washington had wooden dentures. True, the teeth weren’t his own, but the four sets (at least) that he owned were made of gold, ivory, lead and various human and animal teeth.  Thus saith the people who analyzed them in a lab in Baltimore seven years ago. (Click on the picture; it’s a photo of one of his actual sets. Yikes.)

And that’s all we have time for this morning, luvs. Gotta get ready to go get Mavis so we can run the Bob’s Birthday Cake Test-Drive. Today’s flavor? Coconut Cream, an original concoction. We’ll see how my supposed “originality” plays out later…

Happy Sumday!

That got me thinking about your password. According to John Pozadzides at Lifehacker, some people wouldn’t have to think too long to guess it. Says John:

Adding just one capital letter and one asterisk would change the processing time for an 8 character password from 2.4 days to 2.1 centuries.”

Food for thought indeed.

My passwords aren’t even in English, and they have multiple cases, characters (when allowed) and numbers. So far — knock on wood — I’ve never been hacked. That doesn’t mean the kool kiddies won’t keep trying, though, so complicate and change your passwords often. Your PSA for today, because the Fink hearts you all.

Today is not the weekend. We weep.

I’m talking about having my memory stolen.

On Tuesday of this week, I went in for an endoscopy/colonoscopy. Nasty tests, and I’m glad they put you “out” for them. I recall the nurse telling me, “We’re going to start your medication now.” I’m like, “Go for it…I don’t want to know what’s going on anyway.”

The next thing I remember is being at home, almost four hours later.

OK, recap. At 10:30 a.m., a lady was talking to me in a dark room. Then, blackness. When the world comes into view again, it’s 2:00 in the afternoon and I’m walking to the sofa in my living room.

Here is a list of things I (reportedly) did after the procedure:

1. Met with the doctor
2. Chatted with the nurses
3. Signed a release form
4. Got out my phone and put a follow-up date in my Droid’s calendar
5. Got dressed
6. Walked to the car
7. Conversed with the Thriller on the ride home

Now I’ve had a total of 13 different surgeries in my life. I am no stranger to the effects of anesthesia, and I’ve had all kinds of knock-out drugs. But I knew something about this was totally different. It wasn’t Valium or Demerol, and it obviously wasn’t Propofol (the drug on which Michael Jackson overdosed) because there was no anesthesiologist present. So what went on?

When the Thriller told me all the things I did, and got to the part about me putting a date in my Droid, I didn’t believe him. He said, “Get out your phone and look.” The horror I experienced when I saw that I had indeed done it is difficult to describe.

Well, that evening, a nurse from the doctor’s office called to check on me. After the pleasantries, I asked, “Hey, I’m curious. What kind of sedative was I given for the test?” She said, “It’s called Versed [pronounced ver-SED].” I told her I hadn’t heard of that before, and that it’s strange but I have absolutely no recollection of anything after being brought into the endoscopy room. She chuckled and said, “Yes, Versed causes amnesia; it’s kind of like the date-rape drug,” meaning rohypnal, or “ruffies.”

(Oh, really. Then that explains why, when I was being admitted, the nurse asked me, “Do you trust the person who drove you here today?” I said, “Well sure…he’s my husband.” I thought to myself, what an odd question to ask someone. She went on to instruct me — and she said it at least twice before I started the prep session — “Do not make any important decisions today. Do not sign any legal documents or make any large transactions.” Whaaat? Well, it’s clear to me now, since the fog has lifted.)

Anyway, I was gobsmacked after the “date-rape drug” reference. I made some fool comment, I don’t know, about having to ask my husband five times what the doctor said he found in the test, thanked her, and signed off the call. I can’t describe to you how I felt. Well, yeah I can. I felt violated — like something was taken from me without my permission. I decided to shake it off, but the curiosity lingered, so I did some research. Turns out Versed isn’t the happy la-la juice people might think it is. I know everyone reacts differently to medications, and I was one of the fortunate ones who did not experience the horrors many others endured — namely, the waking up inside your head in excruciating pain, but not being able to wake up your body to scream out loud. Right there is what every surgical patient fears, I think.

Now I’m not a Chicken Little, and I don’t believe everything I read on the Internet. But having gone through this experience myself, I can see where these people in the above post are coming from. Moreover, to some, it may not matter that there is a black hole in their day. But the fact I said and did things I don’t remember (one of them rather embarrassing, involving me saying something about my husband in mixed company that I would never say normally) bugs me. Really bugs me. Taking away my self-control is not funny to me.

So there it is — a rare “serious” post from the Fink. But in the public interest, I thought I ought to bring you up to speed, so when it’s your turn to have these tests — and if it isn’t yet, it will be one day — you’ll know what to ask. This drug was not mentioned anywhere in the pre-procedure paperwork that I signed. Nowhere in the document did I see the phrase, “You will have no memory of large blocks of time.” Well I can tell you that it’s not going to happen again.

Next time I have one of these tests (and I will have more…the joys of being over 50), I am going to insist on another medication, or even on having an anesthesiologist there and going the Propofol route. Anything other than Versed. Anyone who knows me knows that I am firmly against anything that steals people’s joy. I have been largely a joyless creature for the past two days, and I’m ready to quit it. It wasn’t altogether harrowing, and nobody died, and the world goes on, and the sun is shining and life is good…but the Versed thing ain’t happening again.

I read on one blog that people who object to Versed are “pansies.” I wear the badge proudly:

Now let’s have a good Thurgsday, shall we? Jake and Justin this morning, then lunch with Rae, dinner with the Thriller, and at some point, shopping with Mavis. I’m going to “forget” about the bad stuff.

2. In the meantime, fix your Facebook profile so as to slow the leak of your information. Think about it.

3. Swear that from this day forward, you will avoid all Facebook applications, quizzes, and “like” pages that require you to “join” before you can see the content. Hello…”Allow Access” means just that — and often more.

4. Back up your contacts in your cell phone address book. (The Fink had a huge scare yesterday.)

5. Don’t *ever* type anything on Facebook or Twitter that you don’t want a future potential employer to find.

Fink (lookin’) out (for ya).

What to Do?

So, if (like me) you’ve been known to shoot yourself in the foot from time to time (or maybe all the time) here are twenty-two no-brainers to help you overcome the cycle of self-sabotage. Some of you might want to put this list in a prominent place where you’ll see it often – like (stapled to) your forehead.

1. Stop being a people-pleaser.
2. Stop waiting for the right time.
3. Choose your attitude.
4. Stop relying on (or waiting for) motivation.
5. Get uncomfortable.
6. Stop being so safe.
7. Be prepared to fail.
8. Find the lesson.
9. Ask better questions.
10. Stop looking for approval, permission, protection and praise.
11. Learn your own truth.
12. Be solution-focused, not problem-obsessed.
13. React better.
14. Don’t sulk - seek.
15. Control what you can, let go of what you can’t.
16. Invest your emotional energy wisely.
17. Stop waiting for people to care.
18. Don’t wait for opportunities – create them.
19. Talk less. Listen more.
20. Don’t do what’s easy. Do what works.
21. Stop giving away your power.
22. Identify your core values. Live in alignment with them.

So do you see yourself in any of these? I think they represent some good advice, especially for those of us who fall victim to self-sabotage on occasion (or even regularly).

Week’s almost done. Jakey stays with Grammie tomorrow night. Fun times.

FO

PSA for today: check your credit card transaction history every month. The sad tale:

I have a credit card through PayPal (a division of evilBay). The Thriller, who pays the bills online every month, noticed that the balance on this account — which he always paid in full — never stayed at zero. Each month, there was a thirty-some dollar charge. He kept paying it, assuming I was just making purchases with it. He even made mention of it once, several months ago: “Your PayPal MasterCard balance…I keep paying it off and it keeps coming back with money on it.” At the time, I think I had charged something online, and I told him so. The matter was dropped.

Then yesterday happened. Long story longer: I spent the entire afternoon on the phone with PP’s fraud department. Seems a lovely bunch of chaps in Great Britain have been charging $40 to my credit card every month since January, just for kicks and giggles — right under my nose.

There’s probably no way I’m going to get my $400 back — I mean, it’s been months and this is eBay, fuh cryin’ out loud, who don’t give a dinkly doo about their customers — but I am sixpence the wiser. Never again will I just assume all is well. Chicanery to the left of me; jugglery to the right. You just can’t trust anything these days. I feel violated and stupid.

So, fiends, a lesson for those who have credit accounts, and for those who might in the future: be suspicious all the time. Never assume your credit card company (or bank) is watching out for you. Don’t believe their hype about “red flagging fraud.” A bogus company that changes its name every month and has a US toll-free number (that doesn’t work, of course — I tried them all) but originates in the UK is not cause for a red flag in their software? I’m not shifting blame, mind. But geez. What a way to run a railroad…

Anyway, I’ve done the research, made records of all the fraudulent charges, compiled them into a report, filled out all the paperwork and faxed it in. And that is how I spent my Monday afternoon.

Cripes.

FO

Each time I get one (which is quite frequently), I find myself wondering, Who actually falls for this stuff? The answer: many folks. It’s unbelievable.

Called “Nigerian 419″ scams because of Nigeria’s law enforcement code for fraud (419), these schemes promise huge windfalls of cash if you’ll only do this, and send this, and pay this fee, and keep this “confidential.” People have gone so far as to physically meet these crooks in Europe somewhere to seal the deal, resulting in losing their life savings, their families, and even their lives. And it doesn’t help that the bad guys will go to incredible lengths to propagate the ruse. Amazing.

Again…to me, and seemingly to anyone with the slightest bit of cautious savvy (and that should define anyone who has an email address, but sadly…), there is no possible way to take seriously an email from a stranger that begins with “Hello Dear” (a badly mangled translation of our standard “Dear _______” greeting), or purports to be royalty or a government official using a Hotmail account.  Also, in an age when our culture is steeped in general suspicion of outsiders or strangers, it is doubly puzzling how people can get sucked in. But they do, and you might be surprised at exactly who they are.

According to my research, it is a sad situation. Oftentimes, people who are duped are a) older, lacking the requisite suspicious nature that keeps us out of trouble like this; b) in a “bad place” in their lives emotionally, seeking a way out through a new beginning with new people; c) desperate — in a horrible financial state and needing a quick fix; or d) just plain greedy, which puts them in the precarious position of being vilified right along with the criminals when the jig is up and they realize they’ve been smoked.

Do you know of anyone who’s fallen for this? I don’t, personally. (And if I fell for it myself, truthfully, I wouldn’t tell anyone.) There are people who deliberately pose as victims, just to lure the snakes out of the underbrush and give them a taste of their own venom. I find that funny, and just a little satisfying, I must admit.

Careful out there, fiends.

PSA Fink

Today is a day not to proselytize, but rather to remember. Today, I honor my dad. Please feel free to add to my list and post the name, rank, branch and conflict of a veteran you loved who has passed away or was killed in action.

After that, have a picnic, hug your family, and enjoy the day. Cuz you gotta go to work tomorrow.

Happy!

FO

SN Charles A. Collins (1933-1995), United States Navy, USS SALEM, Korea

Now I believe that someone can do wrong, then rehabilitate. If NFL commissioner Roger Goodell thinks Vick has paid his debt and it’s all right for him to go back to playing football, then that’s his call. I do wonder if the ticket-buying public will completely accept him back, but then again, I’ve heard it said that pro football is more about revenue than football, so…

But why did Vick (and his pals) do this? Certainly it wasn’t because he needed the money — although I guess he needs it now because he’s broke, which makes me wonder how anyone could go through $130 million in such a short time. Still, how could anyone do this and sleep at night?

This is Lucas. He was Vick’s #1 champion fighting dog. His face is torn up with scars. He’s being rehabilitated by some great folks at Best Friends Animal Society in Kanab, Utah, along with 21 of the 47 Pit Bull Terriers seized from “Bad Newz Kennels.”

Georgia, seen here taking a siesta with her handler, was likely one of the most abused of all Vick’s dogs, according to the feature I read. Vick hired a veterinarian (who should have his/her license revoked forever) to pull all 42 of Georgia’s teeth, presumably so she would not bite the male dogs she was repeatedly given to for breeding purposes.

The New York Times article also tells about another Vick-tim named Cherry, who…

…is so terrified of people that he won’t walk on a leash. He just prostrates himself and refuses to budge, so he has to be carried everywhere. Later, when he is finally persuaded to take short walks, he skulks, pressing himself against the nearest wall or fence, as if trying to be invisible.”

It is thought that Cherry was used as a “bait dog.”

Again, I ask: Why would someone do this to an animal? I’m no extremist, but to me, torturing a living being that cannot defend itself, or that does not know what is happening to it or why — for entertainment, fuh cripesake — is the lowest, most vile form of cruelty. The whole mess just makes me seethe with rage.

I believe that the people who did this lack a specific chip in their brain circuitry. The empathy chip; the human decency chip; the Dear-God-Don’t-Make-Me-A-Sociopath chip. Seriously, something is wrong with these guys. And they’re not alone.

In my life, I’ve seen people slap, punch, kick, scream at, and basically try to scare to death innocent dogs. I’ve heard of people feeding them alcohol until the dogs pass out, vomit, or stumble around and hurt themselves. To those folks, I say c’mere. Gotta tell you something. Take your dog to the nearest animal shelter. Then get a cat-o’-nine-tails, remove your shirt, and flog yourself unconscious. Have a friend coat your bed with salt and place you in it. Simmer. Wake up. Scream. Rinse. Repeat.

I think all dog owners should live by this list:

The List of “Nevers”

1. NEVER hit or kick a dog — ever, for any reason — unless it’s attacking you and you fear for your safety.
2. NEVER, upon realizing that your puppy has torn up a magazine or had an accident on the floor while you were gone, rub his snout in the mess or shake the magazine in his face while yelling at him. Want to turn your dog into a psychological mess? Then do that Jekyll-and-Hyde song and dance. Did you ever know someone — maybe a family member — whom you loved and wanted to please, but whose moods were so erratic that you feared him/her walking in the door? Then you know what I mean. Your dog adores you; don’t slap his face for it. There are other ways to redirect bad behaviors. Learn them and do what’s right by your pet. There are lots of great sites, like this one, with excellent information, for free.
3. NEVER assume your dog knows that you’ve had a sucky day at work or school, or a fight with your significant other, or that you’re in a bad mood. Be an adult and put it aside; don’t take it out on your pet.
4. NEVER blame your dog for what is your fault. If you don’t let him out for 12 hours and he has an accident on the floor, clean it up without comment and learn from your mistake. How would you feel if you weren’t allowed to go to the bathroom for 12 hours at a time, or if you had no water to drink all day long because someone was afraid you’d have to go to the bathroom?
5. NEVER assume that since you’ve given this dog a home, he should be grateful to be completely ignored. Dogs can feel loss, depression, boredom, anxiety and loneliness, the same as you and I. If the novelty of having a pet has worn off for you, then give the dog to someone who will treat him with the love and respect he deserves.

Our dogs probably think the sun rises and sets on us, and they want nothing more than to please, and be loved by us. We need to give them the chance to do that.

Sure, release Vick early. But release him to a halfway house and give him a job, lasting for the remainder of what would have been his prison term. Put him to work in a local shelter, or in a vet hospital where abused animals are treated.

Fink out.

PS – National Geographic produced a special about Vick’s dogs. I’d like to see it when it comes around again.

PPS – Browns fans: interesting article off the AP wire yesterday (although I don’t know where ESPN gets off coding the link I clicked to say, “Browns owner puts Crennel, Savage on notice”).

Photo credit: New York Times

Remember, friends – there are real people suffering elsewhere, too, and not over losing their six-figure salaries. They’re suffering because the building they worked in has been washed away. Because they no longer have a place to live. Because the neighborhood they raised their children in is now gone.

I know there are folks going through hard times everywhere. But if you can, please spare a thought for the recovery effort in Texas, which has been summarily ignored by the press in favor of coverage of the screaming Beakers of Wall Street.

I spoke to #2 son last night (who shall now and forever be referred to by his new RtB code name, Lars), and he said that his new bride (who shall now and forever be referred to by her new RtB code name, Helen) told him on the phone yesterday that Galveston smells like thousands of refrigerators containing rotten food (which is very likely the case). She also observed hundreds of dead birds, and “pond muck” covering almost every surface. Here is a collection of pictures I found that someone took this past Sunday. In essence, people’s lives were simply wiped away and replaced with filth. They need help.

Therefore, I am going to give a gift at RedCross.org – if you are reading RtB today, and you haven’t given yet, would you consider it as well?

It’s as easy as clicking here and giving a small donation. $10, $15. Everything helps; you know it does. I’m going there now.

Deception Destroyers

(or, It Wasn’t My Intention to Render Your Childhood a Complete Sham)

Deception: Chewing gum stays in your digestive tract for years. Truth is, gum takes longer to digest, but it breaks down like any food substance would in the digestive tract. Besides, if someone was cut open and gum was found, who’s to say how long it had been in there? It would make me wonder how they knew that Uncle Phil chewed gum seven years before he died. Is there a carbon-dating process for Bazooka?

Instead, doctors say that the old husbands’ tale likely started with parents scaring their children into not swallowing it. I don’t worry about the digestion part of it; it’s the ooky factor that gets me. Like…why don’t you tear the eraser off this pencil here and swallow it.

Deception: Eating turkey makes you sleepy. People have long insisted that the tryptophan in turkey meat makes people drowsy. In fact, I believed it, too.

However, according to modern scientists and the medical community, it is likely the size of the holiday meal altogether — and its effects on insulin and the decrease in oxygenation of blood flow to the brain — that makes people want to nap after a huge turkey feast.

And speaking of turkeys…

Deception: The first Thanksgiving at Plymouth Colony was a brotherly gesture by the Pilgrims to reach out to their neighbors, the “friendly savages” of the Wampanoag tribe. Ha. Sorry, kids. According to Chuck Larsen, who researched and wrote extensively about Thanksgiving because he was an Ojibwa and Iroquois Indian teaching in an American elementary school (and therefore uncomfortable with the whole Thanksgiving charade in the schools), it was the Indians who actually provided much of the food for the feast. And the “peaceful Pilgrim” thing was basically a myth as well, for the Puritans who came over from England were largely religious nuts, political wackjobs and garden-variety hooligans who couldn’t get along in daily society. Many were intent on overthrowing the English government (and actually did). Indeed, against their strange Indian “friends,” they plotted thusly:

“The Indians were comparatively powerful, and therefore dangerous; they were to be courted until the next ships arrived with more Pilgrim colonists and the balance of power shifted.” *

And shift it did. Over the next forty years or so, almost all the Native Americans in New England were either exterminated, banished (many were refugees to Canada), or sold into slavery. Happy Thanksgiving, here’s a musket up your nose. Nice.

But, so I don’t completely dash to the pavement every childhood memory you ever held close to your heart: Yes, Virginia, there IS a Santa Claus.

Heh. Fink out.

* “Teaching About Thanksgiving,” Tacoma School District, Washington, 1986. Other source: LiveScience.com.

(This post is basically for Firefox users on a Windows OS, but the tricks are doable on your Mac as well. I just couldn’t tell you exactly how.)

Everyone browses the web differently. Some like several windows open at once, and some like tabbed browsing, where you have one window open and several smaller windows inside. Others don’t care. As much time as I spend online, my priority has always been ease of access. Fortunately, the Firefox browser allows users to customize to the nth degree — which I have done. I thought I’d highlight some tweaks and time-savers in case anyone’s interested. Below are a few of My Favorite Things about Firefox customization.

(And since several of my friends and family label themselves “web-challenged,” I’ve included pretty pictures, too.)

1. The Bookmarks Toolbar. This is by far my favorite tool, because I have a ton of sites that I visit every day, several times a day, and I absolutely hate the 4-step process of select Bookmarks – bring down the list – fly out the menu – find the site. I want one-click simplicity.

In case you can’t see the Bookmarks Toolbar, here’s how to activate it. Right-click in an empty space on the main navigation toolbar (like next to your “Back” button). Then select “Bookmarks Toolbar.”

Then go to your favorite site, grab the favicon (the little graphic next to the “http”) with your mouse button, and drag it to the empty toolbar until a little rectangle appears beneath your cursor:

Et voilá – one-click access to your favorite site. From then on, you can just drag sites to the Toolbar with impunity. Another tip: Once you have the bookmark on the Toolbar, right-click it, select Properties, and you can rename it to whatever you want. As you can see on this screenshot, I have done that with all of mine.

2. The Navigation Toolbar. You can customize this, too. I like a clean look, with only the buttons that I use most often. (I don’t use the nav buttons for Print, History, Cut, Copy, Paste, Bookmarks, etc.) Just right click on the navigation toolbar and select Customize:

On the window that pops up, start dragging the buttons you don’t want into the open space below (click the image):

And there you go. Those are my two biggies. Firefox also can be customized with Add-ons; I use a lot of those, too. You can get:

• Themes - I use Blue Ice, because the buttons are big (which helps my horrendously poor eyesight) and it looks super-clean.
• Extensions – There are a metric ton of them, designed to save you time and increase productivity. There are a bunch at Mozilla, as well as at userscripts.org, after installing the add-on called Greasemonkey. (Geeks will spend hours on that site.)

The best Add-ons, in my opinion and for my purposes, are:

1. Adblock Plus. It does what the name says. It blocks those stupid Flash ads and other annoying popups. You can customize it to not run on certain sites (for instance, my Boston U. class website uses popups for content). As of today, over 21 million people have downloaded it. You need to get it.
2. The Google Toolbar. When you research and write as much as I do, this is a godsend.
3. Handy Xtra Stuff for the Xtra-geeky individual.
4. PDF Download. I open a truckload of these files on a regular basis (ever been to JSTOR?). This extension lets me decide what I want to do with it before I open it. Very handy.
5. Go Up. J’ever want to retrace your steps back to a home page when you’re six miles deep into its subdirectories? It usually involves highlighting part of the URL and pressing delete and all that madness. This extension puts a button right next to the location bar, which, when pressed, will take you, step by step, back to the top-level directory of a website. For instance, if you’re here: http://finkweb.org/wp-admin/post.php?action=edit&post=462&message=4 — pressing the “Up” button takes you here: http://finkweb.org — one level at a time. Nice.

Ok, that’s all for today. But there’s a lot more where this came from…

Finkus outus.

Getting old is sucking. I’m babysitting this weekend for Dusty and Willow, my son’s two Labradors, and his Labradoodle, Oliver. Great dogs, and Rousseau loves the company. So anyway, I’m taking everyone outside this morning, right? Well, coming back in, I missed a stair, and fell. Something’s all sprung out of whack. My whole right side wants to fall off. I’m serious. I think I broke myself.

Time was, I’d fall down and get right back up and not worry about it. Not so anymore. I’m coming to grips with my mortality; the impermanence of my joints, bones and muscles. And brain. Ugh.

But enough misery….on to brighter subjects:

A new category! The FinkWeb Public Service Announcement.

Every once in awhile, I come across (or remember) cool ways to do simple, everyday tasks, or to handle common problems or inconveniences. As I discover/think of/remember them, I’ll pass them along to you. And you don’t even have to buy the book. Behold:

Avoid the Itchy Scratchy

Avon’s Skin-So-Soft works perfectly as a mosquito repellent. I don’t know why or how, but I’ve used it since my sons were little. It has always worked; and it smells nice and powdery. I understand that Avon, not a company to miss out on a windfall marketing boom, now makes the stuff in a spray bottle, labeled specially as a repellent. I’m sure other brands like OFF! have jumped on the bandwagon as well. But in a pinch, get out the SSS bath oil.

And speaking of pinching….

How to Get the $#*% Coffee Filters Apart

Ever try like mad to get the coffee filters to separate in the morning, only to want to throw the whole pile of them in the garbage and go to Starbucks instead? Well, struggle no more, my friend. There’s a simple solution. Just use your thumb and index finger as pincers; as a lobster claw. Yep, it’s as simple as that. Pinch the top surface of the stack of filters, and one will immediately come loose from its mates. Guar-own-teed.

If you have cool ideas, don’t post them here — rather, email them to me and I’ll include them in the next PSA, and credit you. Address:

Fink out (to the kitchen to get the Tylenol).