Two things I learned this weekend, and one thing I found out I didn't know

Sometime during the year 1900 the head of the US Patent Office went up to Congress and suggested the Patent Office be shut down because, in his words, "Everything that could be invented has been invented." You have to admire the man for his candor as well as his willingness to put himself out of a job. You also have to wonder how this idiot got the job in the first place. But that's not the point. The point is that new things show up all the time and even if they're not patentable, they're interesting.
For instance this weekend I learned two new things so my inventory of knowledge increased by just a little bit--assuming the two glasses of wine I drank with dinner didn't wipe out the equivalent or greater amount.
I learned that in Argentina, burping in public is one of the rudest things you can do. I learned this because one of our guests drank a Diet Coke at the table and inadvertently burped--it happens to all of us. But this time she did it in the presence of an Argentinian, who was horrified. Apparently in Argentina public burping is worse than public farting, which is the inverse of what is true in most parts of the world. It does leave me wondering about the origins of why Argentinians are so passionately anti-burping. I also wonder if it's something that's true all over Argentina, or if it's a feeling concentrated in certain areas. The pampas vs. the cities, say. Anyway, it's something to Google on a slow day.
I also learned that fixing plumbing problems don't necessarily require the visit of an actual plumber. The heat on the second floor of my house wasn't working so my son called the plumber Tom, a wonderful man who's been tending to our various drips, leaks and heating outages for decades. It was New Year's Day and while he said he'd be glad to come over, he pointed out he would charge double his usual rate.  This gave me pause as I was looking at a $500 bill, at least. So I told our overnight guests to bundle up and make the best of it while I pondered the problem.
The next morning my son called Tom and suggested perhaps the issue could be solved over the phone. Tom agreed and first tried talking us through some possible fixes. When that didn't work, my son took his iPhone into the basement and set up FaceTime with Tom. After a few minutes Tom diagnosed the problem and my son was able to fix it. My second floor warmed up quickly, and the era of teleplumbing was born.
Finally, something I discovered I didn't know: How to take apart the frame under a bed -- that metal thing with rollers. You'd think it would be simple -- just attack it with a screwdriver, pliers and a hammer--some combination of those three will do the job. Well--no. Despite my best efforts at applying whatever I learned in engineering school, the frame proved wholly unforgiving and remains in one large immovable piece.
But at least it's on my warm second floor.
I'm going to burp at it.