The Oppenheimer Report - 5/27/12

As I write this week’s report, I am anxiously awaiting the delivery of a piece of furniture which has been dear to me my entire life. In our family beach house, just a fifteen minute drive from Buffalo on the Canadian shore of Lake Erie, there sat a unique dining room table. I think it has been in our family for over 65 years. Made of oak, it has expanding roll top ends, very similar to the top cover of a roll top desk. The table expands with a crank and I am told it is extremely rare. To me it is priceless, because it served as the dinner table for four generations of my family. My then very mischievous Uncle Harry used to crank it in while dinner guests were at the table, causing their plates to fall into their lap. There is an amusing story that my mom used to tell about that table. My maternal grandfather, Harry Lehman Sr., then owner of the beach house, was vacationing in Palm Springs, California. On one of his daily walks he came upon a shabbily dressed, dischevaled man working out in the front yard of a very large and impressive estate. He assumed the man was a groundskeeper, and my grandfather, who loved talking to just about anybody, struck up a conversation with the man. Soon they were fast friends and when the man asked my grandfather to come in for a glass of lemon-aid, my grandfather asked. “Won’t your boss mind?“ The guy replied, “I am the boss.“ When Grampy went inside, he was surprised to see the exact same expandable oak table that he had in the dining room of his summer home. He mentioned this to his host and the man seemed incredulous. He told my grandfather that there were four of these tables in all of North America, perhaps all of the world, and that it was too great a coincidence that a man he'd just met by chance should have one of the other three. Grampy assured him he did, and the next time that man was back East, visiting Niagara Falls with his brother, he made a special trip to my grandfather’s summer home to see the double.

For years I have been consulting The News of the Weird for some of my stranger news stories and the other day I read one that made me belly laugh. It seems that there is an unusual Spring tradition in Dongyang, China. Every year around this time the town anxiously awaits the arrival of a local delicacy: “Virgin Boy Eggs.” For centuries it has been the town tradition to boil eggs in the fresh urine of little boys, preferably boys under the age of ten, then to eat them in the belief that this will bring good health, renewed energy, and prosperity. Hmmm. Banff has her hot springs, Dongyang has its eggs boiled in the urine of little boys. Take your pick. While I concede that there are many things to be learned from the wisdom of Eastern medicine, perhaps this is not one of them. Then again, who am I to say?

By now I’m sure you’ve heard at least something about the scandal in the U.S over Secret Service agents hiring prostitutes down in South America. Now it appears the scandal is spreading. Some DEA agents are now accused of hiring Columbian prostitutes, suggesting that this is a bigger national security issue than originally thought. One DEA guy said, “hey I thought I was just getting a massage.” Yeah, yeah, and the dog ate your homework. I like it when I can see my tax dollars at work. Last week tech giant Hewlett Packard announced it will cut 27,000 jobs from its payroll, Bee Gee Robin Gibb died (so much for "stayin' alive"), and tropical storm Beryl bears down on the East Coast, promising to be a significant rain event....

But the big news is,  my table has arrived, and it boy does it look good in this house!

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2012 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED