Saturday, June 19, 2021

Southpaws



“Southpaw” most often refers to a left-handed baseball pitcher. It stems from the orientation of most ballparks. Home plate to centerfield is usually west to east, which puts the leftie’s arm to the south. Never heard of a “Northpaw” however. 

Roughly 90% of the world’s population is right handed. I was born left-handed. Over the years I have converted, “encouraged” to surrender natural for awkward. Eat with the right hand to avoid bumping elbows with the person to your left, unless you're able to wrangle a seat on one of the two favorable table corners. Writing - awkward, unless you can write in Arabic or Hebrew. Baseball. Try finding a left handed glove in Pope County. Or a bat. But my left side remains dominant, so I can and do revert. But the world is unfair to “wrong handers”.


A good number of the world's countries drive on the left. Japan, UK as well as most of the Commonwealth (India, Australia, South Africa, ..). You might think this is an enlightened action favoring the left-handers of the world, since a driver on the car’s right-side must shift with the left hand.  But ... no.  Once again, it’s the exact opposite, another form of discrimination against southpaws. Left side driving has its roots in the age of knighthood. In the Middle Ages, since most knights were right-handed and King Arthur made the rules, he decreed, ride on the left so your sword arm is in ready position if you encounter a foe. You won't have to backhand him to death. Left handed knights had a short life expectancy and were especially awkward jousting. 

Right side driving countries’ right-of-way rules say, “right’s right”.

Why is “right” a synonym for “correct”? Right/Left.  Right/Wrong.  Wrong!

Why do we write left to right? Right-handers can see what they’re writing, lefties just smear up the page or curl their hand in an unnatural contortion to avoid it, leading to life-long wrist problems. And illegible backward slant sentences.

On a QWERTY keyboard, the weird letters (Q,W,Z,X,V) are allocated to the left hand. The right hand gets the happy letters (I,O,U).  Clear righty bias.

Why are there no left-handed catchers mitts at Dick’s? Is it any wonder Dale Long is the only modern era MLB left handed catcher?

Why do honored guests sit on the right?  Even God’s “Right Hand” is dominant! Sheep to the right. Goats to the left.

You rely on your "right hand man". "Right as rain." "Might makes right."  Tiring isn't it.

Where are the tools for left-handers? Scissors? Computer mouse? Skilsaw? Hammer? Guitar? Lecture hall desk? Bolt action rifle?

Two left feet? Really?

Sinister is Latin for left. Defamation.

Horse races are mostly run counter-clockwise. Why?  It’s easier for right-handed jockeys  Of course.

But .. some pluses for left-handers. 

  • If you have a good throwing arm, you can pitch in the Majors until you’re 50. 
  • In Buddhism, the left hand represents wisdom.
  • 6 of the past 12 Presidents have been left-handed.
  • Lefties are better fighters. The surprise left hook.
  • Lefties recover faster from a stroke.
  • It's better to be picked 2nd to last as left fielder, rather than last for right field.

This, as I hope you recognized, is mostly tongue-in-cheek, although it is in fact a right handed world. But, real, damaging discrimination in this country is undeniable. I am privileged. I have not suffered overt discrimination in my life. But even the smallest of slights have impact. I was entering a Chicago hotel elevator with my young family and a mink stoled socialite commented: "This used to be such a fine hotel". To my credit, I swallowed my response. My kids were with me. But, to think this snooty remark still irks me 50 years later says something about me, but also about the power of words to offend. So consider the small (or large) slights you have felt (or perpetrated) - I know you remember them - and consider with compassion what many in this country endure daily. Let's vow to be kind and respect each other.

Copyright ©  2021  Dave Hoplin

Monday, June 14, 2021

KCMT

This is part 2 of 7 of my Marcel Proust imitation of "A La Recherche' Du Temps Perdu"  (Remembrance of Things Past)

Mine is the first generation immersed in television from early childhood. I am tempted to say raised on television. Television's effect on my generation was comparable to social media's on Gen Z. It changed our understanding of the world.

I think we got our first TV about 1956, a 17” black and white Setchel-Carlson that sat on a metal stand. The closest broadcast stations were 150 miles away in Minneapolis/St Paul. The first station was TV pioneer Stanley Hubbard’s KSTP followed by WTCN (which became WCCO). KMSP and KTCA completed the lineup. 

We had an antenna tower that stood along the south side of our house like a windmill and extended 20 feet or so above the roof line. The antenna position was controlled from the inside by a rotor which turned the antenna to the optimal reception position. Optimal was generally not too good. Reception tended to be “spotty”. The weather conditions needed to be much better than normal to get a clear picture, preferably cloudless with a SE wind. But be not dismayed - I happily watched Lassie running through the snow or Ramar of the Jungle in a blizzard, fiddling with the rotor all the while. But my favorites were "Victory at Sea", WWII US Navy documentaries on late Sunday afternoons followed by Edward R. Murrow's "See It Now". Reception in the evenings tended to improve, at times good enough to recognize Ed Sullivan on his "really big shew" or watch Pa, Hoss, Adam and Little Joe save Nevada from the bad guys. 

It wasn't until October of 1958 that the area got a dependable TV station. KCMT (Central Minnesota Television), Channel 7, broadcasting NBC programming from Alexandria. (Huntley-Brinkley instead of Walter Cronkite,  Jack Benny instead of I Love Lucy). The miraculous TV tower near Westport became a local tourist attraction soaring 1200' skyward. That changed everything. Once you get a reliably clear picture it’s hard to tolerate a fuzzy one. Color TV was years away.

KCMT introduced local on air personalities soon to become familiar and admired. Glenn Flint & Jon Haaven, news anchor. Jim Syrdal, weatherman, Bud Gorham, sports desk endearing itself to the area by focusing on high school sports. (No Twins or Vikings yet). "Welcome Inn" was a live, popular late afternoon talk show co-hosted by Natalie Johnson & Jon Haaven, plugging local events and people and occasionally featuring Jimmy Jensen singing "Walking in My Winter Underwear". That's about as edgy as it got. (You can probably find a parody of it on YouTube somewhere). And local filler broadcasts ("Echoes From Calvary","AFL-CIO Program") and public service announcements - and each night at midnight the national anthem and a test pattern.


Weekday mornings were Captain Kangaroo, not Sesame Street. 

And Saturdays, what a smorgasbord. Start off with cartoons - Bullwinkle, Yogi Bear, Huckleberry Hound. Then cowboys - Hopalong Cassidy, Roy Rogers, Lone Ranger, Cisco Kid & Sky King.  And Fury, the black stallion. In the afternoon, baseball’s Game of the Week with the inimitable and prone to malaprop Dizzy Dean doing the color: “They ain’t gonna get nobody!” (American teachers appealed to the FCC to get Dizzy fired. He was setting a bad grammatical example for children. Dizzy defended himself: “A lot of folks who ain’t sayin‘’ain’t’, ain’t eatin’. So, Teach, you learn ‘em English, and I’ll learn ‘em baseball.”)

Weekday late mornings and early afternoons were dominated by soaps. Guiding Light (15 min episodes), As the World Turn (1st to experiment with 30 min episodes). But at 4:30 we tuned in Clellan Card as Axel & His Dog (Towser) telling corny jokes, riddles and knock-knocks from the treehouse. “What’s that in the road? A head?” And of course we could not miss the comprehensive news coverage on the 15 minute Huntley Brinkley Report at 5:30. Goodnight, Chet. Goodnight, David. Followed by local news, weather, sports & community billboard. (6:00, 6:10, 6:15, 6:20).

Evenings were dominated by cowboys, comedy, variety shows and doctors  Wagon Train, Bonanza, Have Gun Will Travel, The Virginian. Dr. Kildare, Ben Casey. The Honeymooner’s, Father Knows Best, Leave It To Beaver, Jack Benny, Ed Sullivan, Dinah Shore (see the USA in your Chevrolet), Perry Como, Milton Berle, Red Skelton, Jimmy Durante (goodnight Mrs. Calabash wherever you are). 


I liked “What’s My Line?” with Dorothy Killgalen, Bennett Cerf , Steve Allen & Arlene Francis, a 20 questions style quiz show trying to guess a some person's occupation and then as blindfolded panelists trying to guess the identity of a famous contestant.







And I was amazed by contestants knowledge on "21" and "$64,00 Question"  - until it was disclosed they were provided answers in advance. (I watch Jeopardy these days)







Early TV.  Pretty primitive, but we ate it up.

Chime in.  What's your favorite childhood TV show? 


Copyright ©  2021  Dave Hoplin


Wednesday, May 26, 2021

A La Recherche' Du Temps Perdu

Many great writers slip in some French to show how erudite and sophisticated they or their characters are. A lot of mediocre writers do too.  My snippet of French is the title of Marcel Proust's massive unreadable masterpiece, 'A La Recherche' Du Temps Perdu' or in English 'Remembrance of Things Past',  sometimes translated as 'In Search of Lost Time'.  It goes on for 7 volumes and roughly 4000 pages.  It is unfathomable by mere mortals. I have tried, unsuccessfully, several times, never getting past Vol 1.

Remembrance of things past is perhaps an apt description of what I've been trying to do here. So ... boldly go .. my volume #1 (short form) 'Ma Recherche' Du Temps Perdu’.

I love baseball - have since I was old enough to throw a ball. Whenever I would head out on a summer’s day, usually on my Schwinn, I'd have my ragged baseball glove over the handlebars, hoping for serendipity of 3 or more others wanting to play at baseball.  I played high school, Legion, Town Team ball until my always limited but waning abilities forced a switch to slo-pitch softball.

Six decades later I still love baseball.  I love the crack of the bat - but oh I hate the ping of an aluminum bat. I love the thump of the ball hitting the catcher's mitt. I love the grace of a speedy outfielder running down a long fly ball.  I love the diving third baseman picking off a bullet down the line. I love a triple. I love the flowing beauty of a well-turned double play. I love a runner scoring with a perfect slide to avoid the tag.  I love a perfect throw to home plate from 300' feet away in centerfield nailing a runner trying to score. I love the greenness of a ballpark on a bright sunny afternoon or under the glow of lights with the players in white white uniforms. I love savoring the game with a brat and a beer.  

I love that no matter how many games you attend, you can almost always expect to see something you have never seen before - a no-hitter; an inside-the-park home run; a triple play; a walkoff loss from back-to-back infield errors; a somersaulting runner advancing to third; 3 innings without a ball in play (18 straight K's); a home run that bounces off an outfielder’s head over the fence...

I love that baseball is played in a "park", not a stadium. Most sports venues are not beautiful. Almost all baseball parks are. (Tampa Bay & The Metrodome excepted). Every park has uniform infield dimensions - 90' between bases, 60' 6" from pitcher's rubber to home plate. Beyond that most anything goes. Every field has different dimensions and usually some quirk. Fenway's green monster; TCF Bank's limestone overhang; Wrigley's ivy; Oracle Park's McCovey cove; Oakland Coliseum's several acres of foul territory; Yankee Stadium's right field short porch built for the Babe; Oriole Park's warehouse behind right field; and the long lost Polo Grounds with it's 485' fence in centerfield or the LA Coliseum with its 250' left field and 440' right field. Lowry's right field sloped so steeply you could only see half the right fielder from home plate.

I love that baseball has no clock to run out - although there are times I wish there were. Detractors say the game drags. But really, there is not enough time between pitches for the manager to make all the decisions needed.  What's the next pitch? Where should the infield/outfield be positioned? Hit and run?  Steal?  Bunt?  Pinch hit?  Kick dirt on the umpire? ...

But ..  baseball has changed drastically in the past 20 years.

Baseball used to be a strategy game with 2 field generals matching wits with lots of options. It is still a game of strategy but it’s a pretty simplistic one. Basically, station-to-station baseball and wait for a 3 run homer. Home runs rule the game, so much so that hitters with their upper-cut swings, launch angles and exit velocity to maximize fly balls have also made the strikeout the most common out, more than 41,000 in 2019, the most in history, roughly 25% of all outs made. e.g to date, Twins Miguel Sano has 49 K’s in 112 at bats. Pitchers are dominating. Strikeouts eat up time and combined with endless pitching changes, the average length of a game is over 3 hours. And the baseball owners apparently see this as an opportunity to sell more beer rather than an existential crisis for the game. Strikeouts are boring. Home runs are a brief pleasure or pain. This combination is destroying a beautiful game. 


As much as it pains me to write this sentence, my game is becoming unwatchable, something baseball diss’ers have proclaimed to me back when games were actually exciting. Although I cannot abandon this passion, I will watch less and I’m inclined to allocate my baseball budget to the Miesville Mudhens or Benson Plowboys or Hastings Hawks or Nimrod Gnats or Traverse City Pit Spitters or Rochester Honkers. 

MLB needs to be fixed. Let’s move the pitching rubber back a foot. Let’s move fences back 10’. Let’s make the designated hitter universal (yes, I am a traditionalist and loathed the DH. But hitters can’t even bunt anymore and pitchers, who haven’t had to hit since high school, are so inept at the plate there might as well be a “raise 3 fingers” for an automatic strikeout like for intentional walks.  So you see, I can change my mind. But don’t get me going on infield shifts or a free runner on 2nd in extra innings.

I fear Marcel & I might have unreadability in common.

Copyright ©  2021  Dave Hoplin



Thursday, May 6, 2021

The Great Race

The Pope County Fair in Glenwood each August used to feature harness races with sulkies on the large oval track on the east end of the fairgrounds, an event that drew great crowds. Pretty thrilling. But Lowry had an equally gripping, nearly annual, family race that captured the imagination of the locals: Ole vs Jim.


Jim Robieson was the long-time Lowry depot master, beginning in 1923 when the Robieson family moved from Montana. Ole Hoplin was the Lowry undertaker, hardware owner and electrician. 

Jim Robieson and Ole Hoplin were good friends and after the Robieson's moved out of the depot, they became next door neighbors.

In 1923 the Robieson's had 5 children: James, Ruby, Kenneth, Clarence and Francis.  And the Hoplin's  had 4 children: Oliver, Elise, Glenn & Donald.  

5-4. Robieson.

Doris Robieson arrived shortly after the Robieson's arrived in Lowry in 1923.  

6-4. Robieson

In 1924, Ruth Hoplin arrived on the scene, followed by Paul in 1927.  Roy Robieson was also born in 1927.  

7-6. Robieson

In 1928 Miriam Hoplin arrived. 

7-7.  The Hoplin's had pulled into a dead heat.

In baseball, a big inning is often crucial in determining the outcome.  Even God acknowledges, "In the big inning ..". Well, 1930 was the year. In July, twin Robieson girls were born. Laberta & Roberta. 

9-7 Robieson.

Ole went to Jim and said: "If you're going to start having them 2 at a time, I give up."   

Game over.

Ole of course claimed the game was rigged.  Jim had a head start. Ole had married at age 28, forfeiting prime time. However, there was no backbiting. The family connections remained strong with Donald & Doris marrying in 1948, with Miriam maid of honor and Roy best man.

credits:  Roy Robieson & Mark Hoplin for preserving this invaluable Lowry history.  Mark is grandson of both contestants.


Copyright ©  2021  Dave Hoplin


Friday, April 30, 2021

Lowry to the Rescue

 

Lynn Lundin's Bethel Football Squad

In the  1950's, my Uncle Lynn, married to my Aunt Miriam, was the football coach at Bethel College in St. Paul.  Bethel was scheduled to play Wapehton School of Science on a fall Saturday afternoon. Liederbach Bus Service provided the transportation to Wapehton. Liederbach operated a bus service from the Twin Cities to Fargo on Highway 55 for many years using older, cast-off Greyhound buses.  

The Bethel charter blew an engine in Buffalo - stranded. Along comes Phil Wagner, the Lowry cattle trucker, and sees this group of young men standing by the roadside.  He stops and offers them a ride in the back of his cattle truck as far as Lowry. Having faith, they loaded up their gear and climbed into the back of the truck, not knowing how they might traverse the remaining 100 miles. When the team reached Lowry perhaps aromatic, Dave Nelson & Herman Engebretson organized a car caravan and drove them the rest of the way to Wapehton, just in time.  After all that, I hope they won the game. Liederbach graciously dispatched another bus for the return.

Copyright ©  2021  Dave Hoplin

Saturday, April 24, 2021

Dip Your Hanky in Gasoline

No.  This is not an anarchist handbook, nor is it about some miracle cleaning agent.  This is about a courtship, something for which I am totally unqualified to expound upon, but I can relate a family story.

The story concerns my grandparents. Although I would never have guessed it from my experience with my grandfather when he was in his 60's and 70's, apparently he was quite a man about town in Brandon before the war (WWI), gregarious, fun-loving and considered quite a catch. He was a member of the Brandon Players and often in the lead role - a true thespian. Who knew? I always considered him the stereotypical Scandinavian, reserved and low key, although he did have a flair for humor and the practical joke.  e.g. Hoof Hearted.

The title of this blog comes from a courting technique Ole apparently used or claimed to have used as a young man. The idea was to attend a social event with your hanky dipped in gasoline and find an excuse to pull it out when near a girl you were hankerin' for. The girl would then assume you had a car, a really big separator from the competition in the 1912 dating world. I guess he figured that once the truth was revealed he could rely on his Scandinavian charm to save the day.

In 1914, Ole gave Esther a lovely engraved watch inscribed xmas 1914 Esther.  Esther promptly headed for Minneapolis and a housekeeping job with cousins Martin & Mabel Carlson. But the romance continued by post. I have a number of Esther & Ole's letters during that period - which will not be revealed. But the key factor in reuniting the couple was Esther's mother Sofia. Esther was the only daughter amongst the 7 children.  (A sister died at age 2). Esther and Sofia were very close and they would write frequently (in Swedish). 




Sofia writes in Sept 1914
"Dear Loved Esther ... I shall certainly want you to stay as long as you can but I don't know how we can get through the thrashing without you." ... "Auntie does not want to say whether you should stay or come home to help us. We do not want to hire a girl but will be fine if we stay healthy" ... "Ole was here on Sunday...".   Lovingly, Mama


Gentle coercion. So needless to say Esther returned to Brandon in 1915 to care for her mother and Ole rejoiced. They were married on May 20th, 1916. Interestingly, Ole's family did not attend the wedding. Esther was a Covenanter, not the required Lutheran, so the union was not blessed by the Hoplins. However, Esther won them over with her kindness and gentle spirit. She ultimately had several of the Hoplin objectors living with them in Lowry.

 From the Brandon Forum, June 1916

“At four o’clock, Saturday afternoon of May 20, occurred the wedding of two of our most popular young people, Miss Esther Marie Nelson and Ole Hoplin. {Editor note: The Hoplin farm was on Little Chippewa and the Nelson farm was on Stowe’s Lake, just to the northwest.} The ceremony took place at the house of the bride’s parents in the presence of the immediate families and the nearest neighbors, and was conducted by Rev. Eidsaa, until recently the pastor of the Free Church here. The bride is the only daughter of Mr. & Mrs. Carl Nelson, and has spent the greater part of her life in this vicinity. She is very popular and well known for her kindly disposition and her general ability. The groom has likewise spent most of his life here. He has been for some time manager of the Brandon Farmer’s Grain Co. We are sorry to add that within a few days he has accepted a position as manager of the Lowry Hardware store so that Brandon will be deprived of the society of Mr. & Mrs. Hoplin. Both socially and as a businessman, Mr. Hoplin has been very well known to Brandon. He was one of those taking part in the home talent play recently presented by the Literary Society and gave decided evidence of unusual ability in that direction. Among the guests of the town attending the wedding were Mrs. Carl Aas, a sister of Mrs. Carl Nelson; Gust , Olaf, Sam and John Nelson. The Forum joins with the community wishing happiness to the groom and to the bride and a long and pleasant life to both of them. “ 



Sofia Letter translated from Swedish

I never saw my grandparents hug or kiss, but this was a 65 year love affair - in a decidedly understated sort of way. Their final years were spent in a retirement home where they pulled the single beds together so they could fall asleep holding hands.   


Copyright ©  2021  Dave Hoplin

Monday, April 19, 2021

April 19, 2021

In frustration, I need to share a few of the headlines in the April 19th edition of the Minneapolis StarTribune.  These headlines were all found on the inside pages of the newspaper. 

April 19th, 2021, page 2, StarTribune 
   
3 fatally shot at Wisconsin tavern; suspect in custody

Fugitive is sought after deaths of three people in Texas capital

There have been a 147 true mass shootings in the US in 2021.  The above 2 headlines don't count towards that total.  There were only 3 dead and the "mass shooting" requirement is 4.  

And deeper within the inside pages ...

FedEx shooter bought rifles despite law

Burnsville police shoot armed carjacking suspect

Domestic dispute ends in man’s death

Guard tightens grip on metro

This comes to mind: 

dys·to·pi·an

/disˈtōpēən/
adjective
  1. relating to or denoting an imagined state or society where there is great suffering or injustice.
    "the dystopian future of a society bereft of reason"

Where is the outrage?  Have we become numb to it all?

Copyright ©  2021  Dave Hoplin

Monday, April 12, 2021

Baloney Detector


Somewhere along the line, we have become muddle-headed. We seem to passively accept most anything as true and rarely seem able to reject the arguments even in the face of overwhelming evidence.  To use technical jargon, this is bassackwards. We should expect claims to be supported by facts and evidence. We seem to have surrendered our baloney (my father would have used an earthier term) detection apparatus to the gospel of the internet. It's not simply gullibility. It's a world view that rejects any authority except ourselves. We have witnessed on live TV how widespread conspiracy acceptance can become a national security issue and a threat to our democracy. 

There have been conspiracy theories and hoaxes throughout history.  Virtually every assassination or mysterious death (Lincoln, Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Epstein, 9/11, death of Nero, Mozart, Elvis ...) generates a conspiracy cult. In the 1820's, when polar exploration was "heating up",  John Symnes promulgated a "hollow earth" theory that drew a sizable following claiming that the earth was hollow and had openings at each pole and hid away entire civilizations. The Denver Airport covers an underground city that serves as the headquarters to the new world order. The moon landing was staged in Hollywood.  A tracking chip in a vaccine. Orson Welles terrified the country with his War of the Worlds radio broadcast. Alien crop circles. Paul is dead. The 60 volume Hitler Diaries, an adept forgery of Hitler's handwriting, was proven to be fake shortly before publication in Der Stern. 

The list could go on and on. These examples are really just curious blips on the radar with adherents recognized as being well outside the mainstream. Today we have a much different world.  Even the craziest notions can go viral in a matter of hours, with people mindlessly sharing across the globe. 

How can we reactivate our baloney detectors? Here are some thoughts.

Information vs. disinformation can be tricky to parse. Best practice is never share or repeat anything unless you can verify from a trusted source. Be skeptical. If something sounds too good to be true or too crazy to be true, your instincts are probably correct. If you're still wondering, use fact checking sites like Snopes or FactCheck.org or Google Fact Check Tools  ... 

Check your emotions before you respond. Take a few deep breaths and assess the consequences - the risk reward of a response. Knee jerk reactions have destroyed many a career, friendship, life.

If what you are reading/hearing is a personal attack on someone and not addressing an issue, it is an appeal to your emotions. See above.

Beware of declarations of authority without any other substance. This is an attempt to gain your trust and support without providing good reason. "I have a secret plan to end the war".  See "be skeptical" above.

Beware of the slippery slope argument, one that warns of one thing and threatens dire consequences, which if examined rationally have no basis in reality. "If you allow background checks, the next step will be confiscation". These arguments push you to believe what you want to believe, not reality. We all have the inclination to paint the world as we want to see it, not as it really is.

Beware of an application of "statistics", cherry-picking data to support questionable conclusions. "There were only 1500 deaths today, we're in the clear."  Mark Twain once said: "Lies, damned lies and statistics." Numbers can be used to falsely imply rigor in an argument and frequently tell half-truths. "Fully half of Americans have below average intelligence" is not a slander.

Fractured logic.
A non-sequitur is a conclusion that does not logically follow the premise. God is on our side, we have nothing to fear.  The German army's motto was Gott mit uns.  These declarations are attempts to give you assurance that your views are unassailable. The world is not that simple. 

Irrational conclusions. "The Vikings have never won a Super Bowl because they traded Fran Tarkenton." The "Curse of the Bambino'". Use of the word "must". "I must get into Harvard or my family will disown me". Musts are rarely must.

Either/Or declarations.  "We cannot feed undernourished children and fund pre-school programs". This is a good example of when to apply the Socratic Method.  Ask Why. And then ask Why again of the response. At some point in the chain of whys you reach a point where the statement is justified or obviously false.

Deception, euphemism, weasel words and propaganda. Talleyrand said "An important art of politicians is to find new names for things that have become odious to the public."The "Cute Puppy Act", regardless of its content, can be weaponized against opponents. "What? You oppose cute puppies!". Operation Just Cause. Patriot Act. Enhanced interrogation. un-American. Ethnic cleansing. Laid off ...

Half truths. Quotes out of context. Cherry picking evidence or statements.  Sound bites. Spin doctors. Just be aware of when you might be being manipulated.

Hopefully, your baloney detector will cause you to think critically about claims being made, but its true value is to evaluate whether the things you might say/write fall into the baloney category.

Be careful out there.

Copyright ©  2021  Dave Hoplin