Switching Tracks

March 24, 2006

What’s the deal with vitamins, anyway? There was a long train of thought that preceded that, but a fire in the engine room prevented it stopping to let passengers board until now. I remember learning about vitamins when I was a Freshman in high school. Has anyone else ever wondered where terms like "Freshman" for students ever came from? I admit the "fresh" part makes sense, since it’s for first year students, but I don’t remember there being any "Freshwomen". And even for those of us who weren’t Freshwomen calling us "men" was a real stretch.

Then there was the second year and being called a Sophmore, which made even less sense. At the very least we should have been Lessfreshmen, but instead we were more soph. But I digress. We were taught that the vitamins–A, B, C, D, E, and K–had all been discovered in the 18th Century by ship doctors in Southeast Asia. Vitamin K should have been named Vitamin F, but apparently it was so different from the other vitamins that doctors were convinced vitamins F through J would eventually be discovered, so they put K way out there. They did the same thing with Vitamin B, which created its own little gated community of B1, B2, B6, and B12. That was decades ago that I learned all this. I remember thinking that by now scientists might at least have discovered vitamin F, or at the very least vitamin B3, but so far all they’ve come up with is child-proof bottles. Looking for new vitamins would seem like a great excuse to visit Southeast Asia. Discovering Vitamin C cured scurvy, and Vitamin B cured beri beri. Who knows? Vitamin B3 might help put out engine fires in trains of thought. Or it might make people less soph.

Enjoy this week’s offerings.


No one believes seniors . . everyone thinks they are senile. An elderly couple were celebrating their sixtieth anniversary. The couple had married as childhood sweethearts and had moved back to their old neighbor-hood after they retired.

Holding hands they walked back to their old school. It was not locked, so they entered, and found the old desk they’d shared, where Andy had carved "I love you, Sally."

On their way back home, a bag of money fell out of an armored car, practically landing at their feet. Sally quickly picked it up, but not sure what to do with it, they took it home. There, she counted the money–fifty-thousand dollars.

Andy said, "We’ve got to give it back."

Sally said, "Finders keepers." She put the money back in the bag and hid it in their attic.

The next day, two FBI men were canvassing the neighbor-hood looking for the money and knock on the door.

"Pardon me, but did either of you find a bag that fell out of an armored car yesterday?" Sally said, "No."

Andy said, "She’s lying. She hid it up in the attic."

Sally said, "Don’t believe him, he’s getting senile."

The agents turn to Andy and began to question him. One says: "Tell us the story from the beginning."

Andy said, "Well, when Sally and I were walking home from school yesterday . . . "

The first FBI guy turns to his partner and says, "We’re outta here."

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