Can Men Dress Themselves?

Or is it really because they are colorblind?

Meg often wonders which is really the case. Recently, she has noticed her husband coming home from work wearing all sorts of weirdly matched clothing. Green khakis with a purple hued shirt, and the ever problematic “I thought this was navy blue but I guess it’s black, right honey?“, which can result in what Meg considers the deadliest fashion sin of all, black pants with brown shoes. Add the brown belt to that, and let’s call it a full fledged disaster.

Meg has considered that colorblindness might be the problem so she did some research.

It turns out that 8 percent of men are considered color blind, whereas women only weigh in at .05 percent, or 1 in 200.

According to the Atlantic Monthly:

“It’s treated as a joke, even among the celebrity colorblind. Didn’t you know Mark Zuckerberg made Facebook blue because it’s the easiest color for him to see? If Van Gogh had normal color vision, would his paintings have looked more or less intense? Is defective vision the reason why Bill Clinton has trouble seeing stains? Colorblind men clash ties when they dress, buy unripe bananas for breakfast, and mix up subway lines on their way to work. They get confused by line graphs during meetings, and try to push through the red “occupied” signs on bathroom doors. To a colorblind man, the red lipstick you’re wearing might not be that impressive, but neither will your blemishes.”

Well, that part about the blemishes and good skin is a relief! Does this mean I might never need Botox or Restalyne, either?

Meg decided to test herself for colorblindness just to see how on top of her game she was. Needless to say, she passed with flying colors? Get it?

Her husband, not so much.

It seems these kinds of colors are problematic for him:

color_blind_test

You guys know you’re supposed to see a number 2, right?

Well, it strengthened the fact Meg just needs to be more proactive in the morning to ensure her husband is not actually applying for an internship at the Barnum & Bailey circus ringmaster school.

While she was reading all the fun facts about color blindness, she came across a few that were interesting:

#44 Many colorblind people have problems with matching clothes and buying ripe bananas.

Which is OK, because we hate bananas in this household, unless they have been pulverized into submission in a banana bread.

#13 Dogs are not colorblind.

Well, clearly, I’m going to have to get Jack to start his new job as a valet starting tomorrow.

jack_prowling-for_clothes

Good boy Jack! Bark if your owner picks out the wrong shirt. There’s a treat in it for you.



I Can’t Help Myself Friday. The Doggie Edition.

Meg is taking a break from her usual snarkfest to bring you bring you some cute and adorable little faces:

This is Tommy, and he is officially up for adoption today at the Humane Society of Nashua (NH):

Meg and her husband sponsored Tommy’s trip from San Antonio. Their very own Jack took a similar journey a little over a year ago, and has been the best little buddy the couple could wish for:

He’s gearing up for spring training here. Things are starting to go to his head, he is about to be a star on a local cable access show. Meg will post the episode when it’s ready, but he assuredly will be the cutest dog!

Ever consider adopting a shelter dog? Just check out the story of Rufo, the stray that never gave up on finding family that was perfect for him:

If that doesn’t make you cry, nothing will.

Jack hopes everyone who is looking for a dog heads to a shelter to find man’s (and woman’s) best friend. You won’t regret it!


Frontier Meg

As most of you know, Meg does NOT live on the frontier, but in a suburb right outside of Boston. Yesterday, she did have a rather close call in her little hamlet that made her know for sure she was neither Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman nor Barbara Stanwyck on the Big Valley (look that one up, kids. I need to keep you on your toes with old cultural references).

Yesterday the family was walking Jack in the Town Forest, and SOMEONE decided it would be much more interesting to take
the Boy Scout trails in the woods because they were “more adventurous”. Meg likes the traditional wide trails herself, as you don’t have to fields streams and climb over trees. Nonetheless, Meg agreed to hike along the ridge of the yellow trail.

The family trooped along with Jack off-leash as he bounced and leaped over trees; looking back every once in awhile for some approval and a little smile:


(typical Jack attitude in the woods)

Suddenly, Jack’s amazing tracking ability kicked in, and he took off like a jet, leaving his 2 masters in the middle of the woods whistling for him like a couple of fools. Anyone pity the fools?

After about 10 minutes the fools agreed to split up and each take a direction in hopes their little dog would listen and come running. Soon Meg spied something moving in the distance, and thought the objects looked rather LARGE. As the objects came running toward her and became GINORMOUS, she realized they were a pair of whitetailed bucks, thundering toward her.

All of her camping expertise and backwoods experience kicked in (and that would be NONE people, Meg doesn’t camp anywhere except at a W or a Westin) and she hugged an oak tree for dear life, whereupon the deer sprinted within 10 feet of her mighty oak hideout. She saw the sharp hooves and sinewy hindquarters up close and way too personally, and her heart friggin raced. Raced, she tells you!

Out came trotting Jack, COVERED from head to toe in mud. In fact, he looked like an exact replica of Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean, complete with pirate boots and dreadlocks.

Meg bravely grabbed his collar and shouted for the person who had the leash, and everyone safely made their way to the nearest watering hole to get Jack to clean off.

You think that dog would step a paw over that one inch of ice on the shore? No. The family went back home, where they managed to turn their garage utility sink into an impromptu grooming salon. Little Jack rested in his crate for the remainder of the day, all proud he chased deer, and a lot peeved he had to get a bath.

Meg thinks she’ll just walk him around the block next weekend.


Jack’s Been Christened!

No, no, we haven’t gone crazy and baptized our dog! I’m certain he already knows what Gods and Goddesses to please.

Jack had his very first dip in the Atlantic ocean!

After September 15th, most beaches in the area are open to dogs frolicking in the waves. So we brought Jack to a gentle beach with a large sandbar so he wouldn’t get overwhelmed by waves or break out his surfboard and hang 10:

Somehow he manages not to get his fluffy tail wet. He’s kinda girly like that. Maybe he’s a metrosexual dog, who knows?

After a dip he started to dance around on the sand. And pretty soon he was off to the races:

He played nice with all the other dogs on the beach:

And he’s always trying to hunt and track no matter where he is:

He looks rather stately against the backdrop of a lighthouse:

Here he is heading back up the boardwalk, wondering why he has to leave?

All in all Jack and his family had a delightful day, except the part where he ingested too much salt water and had a bad doggy hangover the next day.

Next time his master’s will be sure he doesn’t ingest salt water like he’s taking a shot of tequila and make his next trip completely perfect.