Twas the Night Before Christmas- DC Style

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through DC,
Not a politician was cooperating, not Hatch or Pelosi.
The Democrats were fighting and not always real fair,
In hopes all Americans would have universal health care.

The pundits were nestled all snug in their beds,
Who’ll win this new battle, the blues or the reds?
Michele Obama in her kerchief and Barack in his cap
Had just settled America for a long 4 year nap.

When out on the South Lawn while Biden worked on his tan,
Barack proclaimed to all who’d hear, “Change? Yes we can!”
Away to the cameras, every reporter had the urge,
We’re now focusing on Afghanistan; it’s time for a surge.

Glenn Beck on the TV for the viewers of Fox News Channel,
Gave the lustre of The Tea Party to an angry progressive panel.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But 8 of our past Presidents, the ghosts of yester year.

Now Washington, Now Adams, Now Jefferson and Hayes
On FDR, On Woodrow, On Lincoln and JFK.
To our monuments! To our legacy! To the constitution we wrote,
We’ll protect our borders and we don’t need a moat.

And then in a twinkling through the darkness and din,
Appeared another great man, his name was Ben Franklin.
Down the chimney he arrived, he came with a bound,
There was hope on the way; he’d turn this country around.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to work,
The Democrats didn’t like him, the Republicans went berzerk.
And then in a flash, with a laugh that was hearty,
He proclaimed his first law, no more political parties.

He wrote this new law with a pen that was feather,
We’ll end all of this fighting and instead work together.
Over the next few days they cancelled all programs pending,
They agreed to do what was right and reduce government spending.

It took a bit of time, but on Christmas Eve they were done,
They had all got along, and some even had fun.
Taxes were now lower and our troops back on US soil,
Ben’s job was now finished, he’d put an end to the turmoil.

He sprang to his feet, threw the old budget in the trash,
Collected all of the Presidents and vanished in a flash.
But I heard him exclaim, before they disappeared from my sight,
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a Good Night!

O, I'm Positive

A letter to my blood donation recipient:


Let’s get the pleasantries out of the way first. You’re welcome. The real meaning of this letter is to let you know what you’ve inherited by consuming my blood.

I’d like to apologize for the roughly 14 cookies, 2 pieces of toast, 1 Venti mocha, 5 buffalo wings, 5 oriental buffalo wings, 2 Auntie Annie Pretzels (one jalapeño & one garlic), and 2 air heads that I consumed prior to the blood donation. While we are at it, I’d also like to apologize for the roughly 25 cookies, ½ pound of cheese, ¼ of a roll of Italian salami, multiple slices of peppered salami, 2 tuna fish sandwiches, and every other holiday related piece of garbage I’ve put in my body over the past 48 hours.

Further, you may find some strange things happening to you over the next few days and weeks. Don’t be alarmed if you find yourself listening to Abba. I’ve recently discovered that Agneth Faltskog is very 70’s attractive and somehow their music is now palatable. Don’t be worried if you now watch Glenn Beck on the Fox News Channel. While I don’t particularly agree with his politics, the guy can spin a good yarn and I just like to hear him talk. Don’t be scared if you suddenly have a craving for pickled herring. I had it the other day and it really just tastes like tuna fish and is pretty good on a salty cracker. And don’t freak out if you find yourself shedding a tear for Brittany Murphy. Not that I was a fan or even saw her movies, but I find the death of any young actor or actress incredibly sad and depressing.

You may also experience some feelings that you’ve never felt before. For example, you may find yourself equally repulsed by Meryl Streep, Renee Zellweger, Rosie O’Donnell, and mushrooms. You may also find yourself annoyed by slow parkers, speed bump stoppers, red light non-turners, screaming children, bells, chalkboards, wet paint, long nails, dry skin, static cling, Mondays, bail bondsman commercials, QVC, and people who stand way to close when they talk to you. You may find yourself hating mushrooms, parsley, cilantro, cloves, and quiche. Alternatively, you almost certainly will now be drawn to any sugar based candy, hot pockets, microwaveable pizzas, key lime pie yogurt, Red Robin’s A-1 Steakhouse burger, ginger chews, and black licorice.

My recommendation is to just sit back, relax, and enjoy the flow. While not perfect the O positive I’ve given you has worked pretty well for me the past 3 plus decades and I’m sure it will do the same for you. So no further thank you’s are necessary. No need to bake me a pie or hand me the keys to the city. I’ve done nothing that any other universal donor wouldn’t do with an hour to kill during the holiday season. Just live your life without wax and we’ll call it even.

First Paragraph- The Legend of Lost Creek Lane

Lost Creek Lane was nestled in the woods, barely visible to those who passed its entrance while on the busy two lane road. The sign to the road was partially obstructed and the overgrowth of trees would cause you to entirely miss the entrance unless you specifically knew it was there. Accessibility was not really an issue anyway given the road gave entrance to a single home almost two miles at the end of the now barely paved path. But Lost Creek Lane did have its share of visitors, however infrequent they may be, and those visitors tended to be important in nature. The owner of the house was a mystery and the nearly 5 acres of electric fencing and vicious guard dogs kept even the most adventurous of onlookers away. Rumor had it the man who owned the house was once a prominent doctor some 40 years ago who’d dropped out of the profession after serious allegations surfaced regarding misappropriations of goods intended for some third world country. Apparently several shipments of medicine as part of the Government’s “Hands Across the Globe” program had gone missing under his watch. But like many things in this part of the country, it was all rumor and innuendo and was never verified despite the many attempts of the gossip hungry town. No one knew his name and he rarely ventured into town. So infrequent were the sightings of him, that many were not even sure he was still alive. And then one fall day he showed up in the middle of town, in the middle of the street, in the middle of the day, incoherent and wobbling back and forth. He was shouting, but his sentences were slurred and the now gathering crowd could only make out an occasional word. When asked later, one onlooker would swear she heard the word “fault”; another would attest to hearing “surgery”; and yet another would witness the man slurred “conspiracy”. What all three, and the rest of the crowd, would unanimously agree upon is the man’s slurring and wobbling both stopped when a sniper’s bullet ripped through the side of his head.

Random Thoughts of Mindlessness Vol. 3

I woke up this morning at 4 am with a clear strategy on how to win at the game Battleship. I’ve never played the game in my life, so I’m wondering why I’d be thinking about it in the first place, much less how I’m developing a strategy for it. However, I also woke up this morning with a splitting headache, a sore shoulder, an upset stomach, and an overall discontent with my alarm clock. Possibly all of these things are somehow related.

In completely unrelated news, I’m uncomfortable with how this whole AT& T vs. Verizon thing is playing out. I feel like I’m witnessing some horrible breakup where both parties are insistent on bashing the other to pieces. I’ve actually grown uncomfortable watching it and wonder if they secretly love each other, thus breeding the outward and open acrimony. They’d actually be a perfect couple. They’re both big on friends and family. When going to parties AT&T could always bring the Apps. And as for sex, they’d have no trouble finding the 3G-spot, although apparently it’s much easier to find on Verizon.

In even further unrelated news, I no longer find the old school Rudolph TV Christmas program to be worthwhile. In fact, I find it creepy. I can’t imagine any child would want to sit and watch that after what they are exposed to on daily basis. I know as parents we try and hold on to traditions and pass them down to our kids, but do we really want horrible graphics to be our legacy? And the same goes with Charlie Brown’s Christmas. With newspapers going away, kids 15 years from now aren’t even going to know who Charlie Brown is.

And finally, in even more unrelated news, I’m wondering when we got the point where speaking in acronyms became more of a sign of intelligence than using large words. It used to be the larger and more impressive the word the more people would look at you in amazement and wonder how you got so smart. There was, and probably still is, a word of the day calendar to increase your vocabulary in order to continually impress your friends and co-workers. Now it seems people want to show their intelligence by shortening everything and I fear this practice will only expand with the text messaging generation entering the workforce. I can just see a meeting that starts out, “OMG, the KPI needs some TLC ASAP or else the BOM’s will be DOA.” I think I’ll invent an acronym of the day calendar.

First Paragraph- Super Size Me

Andrew sat at the ketchup stained table in the local burger joint. He eyed his nearly 1 lb. slab of hamburger with complete satisfaction; knowing the mere sight of the decadent treat would send his overbearing health nut of a wife through the roof. He really couldn’t stand his bride of nearly 8 years. Their marriage was a sham from the very beginning, but he was just too weak of a person then to do anything about it. They were different in every way and those differences grew even larger with every shallow anniversary that passed. To the outside world they must have looked like June and Ward Cleaver, but the veneer of their marriage was razor thin and ready to crumble at any time. Andrew (by the way, he actually liked to be called Andy but his wife forbade this moniker) would never be good enough for his Barbie Doll wife whose only real need for plastic surgery would be to have the silver spoon removed from her mouth. With each defiant bite Andrew grew angrier and angrier with his wife and was even more convinced that what he was about to do was not only justified, but completely right. His focus on revenge was momentary derailed by a disabled man guiding his wheelchair into the table next to him. An entirely empty restaurant and this guy had to sit right next to him. Some people think they are entitled to the world just because they are handicapped. Andrew regained his focus and resolve, pulled out his pen and wrote something on a piece of scrap paper. He slid the paper into an pre-addressed envelope knowing full well the six words contained inside would send the wretched family into the hell they all deserved.

I Hold These Truths to be Self Evident

1) Bacon makes everything taste better.

2) Pancakes for dinner is completely underrated.

3) The Shawshank Redemption is the best movie ever made...ps, "Get busy living or get busy dying."

4) Pennies, Nickels, and Dimes no longer have a use in our society.

5) Stephen Covey should have quit after the 7th Habit.

6)  Renee Zellweger has now become more annoying than her character Bridgette Jones.

7)  The most unbelievable part of Transformers 2 was not everything electronic turning into robots, or a pyramid hidden machine that will kill our sun, or even the 1 hour fight sequence where everything but the main characters die.  The most unbelievable part of the movie was that Shia Labeouf decides to move across the country, away from Megan Fox, to go to college. 

8)  Pie is way better than cake.

9)  Why is "betting" on a company's or commodity's performance in the stock market legal, but betting on a sports team's performance illegal?

10)  A list is not complete unless it has 10 items.  (Which is why I added this lame 10th item as I've run out of anything more interesting to say.)

Did Anyone Find My Titleist?

I'd like to believe that golf balls have ambition.  That each ball grows up dreaming of being the best in the world and having a chance at being tee'd up at a Major Championship.  But just as with humans, it's not possible for everyone to be the best.  There has to be winners and losers. There has to be haves and have nots.  For some, they are born into a certain class and have no hope for upward mobility.  Those are the driving range balls.  If you are a driving range ball there is no chance you can do anything else.  You've been branded by the double stripe that says you are only good enough to get the crap beat out of you on a daily basis by sub-par hackers trying to rid themselves of a slice.  Sure, some of them may work at an upscale Country Club where the double stripes are replaced with a simple "Range Ball" label, but your destiny has still be determined in advance.  The best case scenario for the driving range ball is winding up in a bag to be used on a water hole where the golfer doesn't want to lose one of his "good" balls.  Yes, the life of a driving range ball is the lowest of the classes with little hope of anything better.

Next is our working class of golf ball.  The Top Flite is the poster ball for this class.  There are many of these balls available and all at minimum wage.  They do their job, but certainly are not specialized in any way.  When used properly by a skilled laborer these balls can accomplish great feats, but none of the greats would dare to use them.  It would be akin to Manolo Blahnik using a ferrier to make their shoes.  You are working class.  You are the bourgeois of the golf ball world.

However, not every ball settles for mediocrity.  A rare few work a little harder or were born into better families and become Titleists.  The college graduates become DT's.  The MBA's become HPT's, and the PHD's become Pro V's.  They are the cream of the crop, envied by all in golf ball world.  And yet even those balls aren't at the top.  There can only be one ball that is played by Tiger Woods and the competition to get there is....

Oh to hell with it.  I've been trying to write this damn analogy since late October and it's simply not translating from my mind to this page.  I've given it all I can and feel I need to post this failure instead of simply deleting it.  I'm tired of this post starting at me in editing state every time I go to my dashboard.  I'm not even going to proof read for grammar and spelling.  Tonight, I'm going to celebrate my failure.  Tonight I'm going to be a Driving Range Ball.

Lost in the Desert

I once again find myself wandering through a creative desert.  My fingers are parched and crave a steady stream of words to quench their thirst.  Ideas and stories appear on the horizon, but they turn out to be nothing more than cruel mirages.  I don't know where my fingers will take me, but I trust their sense of direction, so I follow.  My creativity sustains life with small sips along the way, but I find myself returning to the same well again and again hoping this time it yields more than temporary relief.  It's easy to give up; to just lie down and let the vulchers take what remains.  Would anyone miss it?  Would anyone even know it's gone?  I suppose one or two people might send out a search party.  There are answers they seek that only my fingers know.  So I drink what I can along the way and forge ahead determined to find a destination that breathes new life into my weary hands. 

First Paragraph- The Curious Case of Joseph Johnson

He wasn’t exactly Benjamin Button, but it was curious nonetheless. It started small; so small in fact he didn’t even know it had begun. Only looking back did Joseph Johnson start to piece together the events of the past 6 months. It was the smallest toe on Joseph’s left foot. One day, April 30th to be exact, it just went numb. One of those things you never notice, until you notice it and then you can’t get it out of your mind. Joseph was working on a crossword puzzle and was stuck on the final 3 words. 37 across, “Latin for neighbor”; 78 across, “Chief Norse Deity”; and 22 down, “Word before many words”. Not the hardest crossword puzzle ever created; then again Joseph wasn’t exactly Stephen Hawking. No clue was the only answer that continually came into Joseph’s mind. He was in the crossword’s paradox; too stubborn to look up the answers and not smart enough to figure them out on his own. He was just about to fold up the paper and call it a day when it happened. Vacina was Latin for neighbor. How could he have possibly known that? Probably just a recall from a word of the day calendar or a ghost from crossword’s past. He supposed it wasn’t so strange to recall a word you didn’t realize you knew. And then it happened again. Odin was the Chief Norse Deity. What was happening? Five minutes ago he was barely sure what a deity was and would have thought Odin was Garfield’s nemesis. His thoughts were immediately disrupted when, without thinking, he began to fill in 22 down. Just as the final letter was being memorialized in the box and the crossword was completed, his toe went numb.

The next several days were pretty uneventful. His toe was still numb, but otherwise he was the same 43 year old man he’d always been. His greatest skill was being incredibly average at everything, but Joseph believed everyone was born with one incredible skill that set them apart from all others on Earth. He’d decided long ago that being pretty good at everything was superior in itself and he was okay with the notion he’d never be remembered for being abnormally unique. But he was wrong.

It was 17 days after his toe went numb that he noticed a disabled car by the local park. Joseph didn’t have a car; in fact Joseph had never driven a car in his life. The son of radical 1960’s Berkley parents, Joseph was raised to believe all things motorized were evil. He didn’t really carry those same beliefs, but never actually got around to getting his license. It was on his “to do” list somewhere between growing a vegetable garden and hiking in the Andes. He biked everywhere he went and was on his morning ride to work when he decided to pull over to help an attractive thirty-something woman in need of rescue. As it turns out, Pam was also on her way to work when her engine had sputtered to a stop. To say Joseph knew nothing about cars was a colossal understatement, but he was keen on impressing the pretty woman by at least pretending to be of help, so he asked her to pop the hood. A serial bachelor, Joseph had realized long ago the world’s smallest handcuff would never find its way on his left hand, but a beautiful woman could get him to do just about anything. The engine was a Rube Goldberg machine of metal and wire and the only thing he recognized was the oil dip stick. In the midst of his confusion on where to even begin, his hands started to move on their own and instantly the objects under the hood became as familiar as his own face. After 5 minutes of working like a one-man pit crew at Indy, he asked Pam to start the car. She slid into the driver’s seat and placed the key in the ignition. As the key turned and the engine roared to life Joseph’s entire left leg went numb and he collapsed on the ground.

First Paragraph- Trick or Treat

TRICK OR TREAT

Ben was out walking his dog long before most people had decided to pour their first cup of coffee. He liked it that way; much less of a chance to run into someone from the neighborhood. It was early in the morning and the path he took was littered with the misplaced bounty of last night’s trick or treat mob. Like modern day Hansels & Gretels, the masked kids had left a trail of Tootsie Rolls, Suckers, and Gum that could lead any abductor right to their front doors. Ben craved isolation and was a man who took great lengths to separate himself from those around him. The mere thought of Halloween made his pulse race and his blood pressure rise. The same children who routinely mocked Ben had come to his door in a steady stream asking for their unearned treats; they were all scavengers and beggars masquerading under the guise of a pagan holiday. It was his first year in this house and the previous owners must have been generous, for even a turned off porch light was not enough to stop his doorbell from ringing well into the night. His nerves frayed and his dog nearly hoarse from barking, Ben had retreated to his bedroom closet in a futile attempt to keep his anger in check. He had vowed this year would be different, but the mini Michael Jacksons and Candy Corn Witches just wouldn’t leave him alone. He had convinced himself the closet was a place of retreat; a place to regain the balance the doorbell had tried to upset. But this closet held more than clothes, it also held secrets. Ben had spent his entire life posing as someone else, so why did a day where others did the same upset him so much? He had known what would happen before the night was through, but still did his best to fight off the urge that had grown so rapidly inside him. Replaying the video of his memory, the sound of candy cracking under his step and his dog barking at a rabbit jolted Ben back to reality. He tried to pass off the horrific memory as a dream, but his blood soaked shirt betrayed him. If asked, he would simply state he hadn’t changed from last night’s costume party. In reality, there was one less heart beating this morning and Ben had no idea whose it was.

First Paragraph- Checkerboard Lawns

I’ve always wanted to be a writer and I’ve always wanted to write a book. I’m just not sure I have the patience for it. I’ve heard tales of great writers who spend an entire day on one paragraph. Or hours on one sentence. Meanwhile, I feel like a pit crew at Indy trying to get my prose on the race track as quickly as possible. I’ve started many works of fiction over the years and rarely get past the first couple of pages. It takes time for a story to develop; time that I’m not sure I want to invest. Possibly it’s the fear of failure. Possibly it’s a lack of knowledge on how to develop a story. Possibly it’s a lack of talent. Possibly it’s just my extreme lack of patience in general. Whatever the reason, I stall before I ever have the satisfaction of writing “Chapter 2” at the top of the page. Whereas most writers have trouble starting a story, I have trouble with everything but the start. Therefore, I will have a recurring post to this blog called First Paragraph. First Paragraph will be the beginning words of all the ideas I have for a book. First Paragraph will be the beginning of everything and then end of nothing. Without further ado, I give you the first installment of First Paragraph.

CHECKERBOARD LAWNS

The first lawn turned brown in the spring of 2008. Most of us didn’t even notice. Why would we, we had yet to been trained that lawn color was an indicator of financial security. Those who did notice figured the Lawsons had just forgotten to turn the water on after a rainy February. But even the observant couldn’t recall the last time they had seen the Lawsons. By May For Sale signs had popped up like zits on a teenager. Mission Springs Community had developed a serious case of real estate acne. By July the lawns of Tennyson Street were a brown and green checkerboard pattern. Brown lawns had become a modern day easy mark for squatters and the vacancy was seemingly endless. By September new faces had started to appear. Our smiles welcomed them to the neighborhood, but our hearts bred contempt for their part in our declining home value. We despised them for their low mortgage balances; our only comfort in knowing we’d pilfered from them before they had a chance to move in. We shook our heads when asked why there were holes where ceiling fans once thrived. We shrugged when they pondered why all of the hardware had been removed from their top end cabinets. Our only satisfaction was in making their purchases from the bank as incomplete as possible. For what is more frustrating, stealing both shoes or stealing only one? By December the lawns had all turned green again. We convinced ourselves the worst was behind us, but what the rain had temporarily hidden, time was about to expose.

Jocks or Jerks?

This just in…professional athletes have lost their grip on reality. Every day there is a story of an athlete refusing to play because he is being treated poorly by the organization that is paying him multi-millions of dollars every year. Every day there is news about some basketball player who is being charged with assault or a football player slapped with a paternity suit, or a baseball player charged with reckless driving and a DUI. I suppose the rules have simply never applied to them because as long as they create winning teams someone is always around to bail them out. In High School it’s the parents and coaches who look the other way because he’s a star athlete. In college, it’s some booster who throws money at problems to make them go away and acts as a cleaner to make sure the team has a shot at a National Championship or next year’s star recruit. In the Pro’s, the fans are to blame. We’ll excuse anything as long as you catch 100 balls, average 20 & 10, or bat .300 with 100 RBI’s. We either just don’t care or we care so much we are willing to accept any form of empty apology so we don’t have the guilt associated with cheering for you. Back it up with actions no longer means start doing the right thing. Instead it means go out on the field and show me why I can feel okay about turning the other cheek next time you beat your girlfriend or get involved in a shooting at a strip club or charge into the stands to face off with an aggressive fan or crash your $150,000 sports car into a telephone pole after a night of drinking.


I will no longer be an enabler. I will no longer accept mediocre morals and suspect actions in order to get a left-handed power hitter in the middle of my lineup. I will no longer be okay with the acquisition of a spoiled brat thug just because he happens to be the shooting forward my team needs to make a run in the playoffs. And I will no longer support a team that signs ex-cons because he runs a 4.4 40 with the size of a linebacker and the agility of a running back. It’s just not okay anymore. Prove to me you are a decent human being when your dollars, fame, celebrity, and fans are stripped away and then I’ll start giving you my support.

So listen up athletes. Since the normal rules don’t apply to you, I’ve created a new set of them just for you.

1) If you happen to find yourself in a strip club at 3 am, get up and leave. Check that, if you happen to find yourself in a strip club at any time of the day, get up and leave.

2) If the team you play for is willing to shell out $50 million over 5 years, count your blessings, show up for work on time every day, and give 110% nightly to your team. 99.9% of the working world won’t make $50 million in their lifetime.

3) Guns don’t kill people, they kill careers.

4) You make millions of dollars per year. You don’t need to hit a girl that isn’t acting how you want her to. Just go find a new one that will. It’s really not that hard.

5) Check the scoreboard before you decide to do a victory dance after making an 8 yard catch or a tackle 20 yards down the field. The roar from the stands is actually fans laughing at you for celebrating a routine play when your team is losing by 25 points.

6) Condoms work for pro athletes too. Travis Henry, this is for you. You have 11 children, from 10 different women, in 4 different states. Your annual child support payments are estimated at $170,000 and you are currently in jail on drug trafficking charges. $10 for a box of condoms sounds pretty good right now, huh?

7) Contracts are little pieces of paper that tell you what you can and can’t do and how much money you will get paid for how well you obey those rules. So when your contract forbids you from riding a motorcycle, don’t break your leg crashing your Harley, or worse yet, your moped. When your contract prohibits you from snow skiing, don’t post pictures of you with Jessica Simpson on the slopes of Jackson Hole. And if you have an 11 pm curfew, don’t send out a Tweet at 12:45 am from a bar in Manhattan.

8) When you get asked whether you ever did performance enhancing drugs, just say yes. It doesn’t take a forensic scientist to see the enormous size of your head and the tripling of your homerun output might somehow be connected.

9) Give me 110% every game. It’s really not that much to ask. I don’t want to hear about the grind of the season because most of you have game days only 80 or so times per year. And baseball players, stop taking the last 2 weeks off because your team won’t make the playoffs. I just don’t understand why it is okay to stop playing just because your team is out of the race. We count on you to show up and we count on you to play. We pay money to see you in person and we expect your best, not to mention we need your stats to win our Fantasy Championships.

10) The only thing that matters is whether your team wins. I find it interesting that many players only care about their stats early in their careers but are more than happy to play a back-up role for a championship contending team late in their careers. Quick test, who’s the greatest quarterback of all time? My guess is Dan Marino is fairly far down your list, yet his career stats are among the best of all time. John Stockton and Karl Malone will be forgotten in 10 years because regardless of how great they were, they never won a ring. So when you say you are willing to do anything to help the team, remember that when your team asks you to do something you don’t want to do.

Ps. Stephen Jackson, you are a punk and you’ve always been a punk. You caught lightening in a bottle 3 years ago and happened to be part of a team that made a magical run through the first round of the playoffs. But I still remember you came to the team an NBA embarrassment associated with shootings and fighting with fans in Detroit. So next time you want to bitch about being treated poorly, you might want to remember you make $8+ million per year, start and play 40+ minutes a game, and were at one point the captain of the team. And by the way, Baron Davis, not you, was the reason that team 3 years ago made us all believe.

Once Upon a Time, A Dateline Nursery Rhyme Special

Once Upon a Time, Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, had a great fall, and all the King’s horses and all the King’s men couldn’t put Humpty together again.

Today, Humpty Dumpty would sue the King and the maker of the wall for improper construction that ultimately led to his fall. John Stossel would do a piece on 20/20 about the dangers of wall sitting in middle-America and how the decline of wall building is the hidden plague of our generation. Protestors would demand reform in the wall building industry and would blame the poor quality of walls on the outsourcing of wall building to China. The Reverand Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton would be outraged that a White Humpty was getting this much attention when Brown Eggs all over America were faced with far worse tragedies on a daily basis. Congress would get involved and enact Dumpty’s Law which requires the use of a hands free device while sitting on a wall and talking on the phone. Humpty would write a series of cooking books where no recipe is made with eggs, and they all would live happily ever after.

Once Upon a Time, Little Red Riding Hood made a nice lunch for her Grandmother and traipsed through the woods to deliver it. She encountered the Wolf along the way and narrowly escaped being eaten. However, the Wolf had taken a short cut to Grandma’s house, eaten Grandma, posed as Grandma, tried to trick Little Red Riding Hood to come closer to eat her, and was ultimately chased away by a helpful farmer.

Today, the Wolf would be on his way to Grandma’s house to hook up with 13 year old Little Red Riding Hood whom he met on the internet. Upon arriving, he would be shuttled to the backyard where Little Red Riding Hood would offer him a drink and proclaim she was going to change into her little red bikini. The Wolf’s grin would quickly disappear when Chris Hansen appears instead of Little Red Riding Hood, proclaiming the Wolf is the subject of NBC’s “To Catch a Predator.” The Wolf pleads this is the first time he’s ever done such a thing, that he’s really a sheep in wolf’s clothing, and that Little Red Riding Hood is the Girl who cried Wolf. After a 20 minute interview with Hansen, the Wolf bolts out of the backyard, is arrested by the Three Little Pigs, is convicted of soliciting a minor for sex, sent to a straw prison, escapes from the straw prison when he huffs and puffs and blows the prison down, is captured and sent to a stick prison, escapes from the stick prison when he huffs and puffs and blows the prison down, is captured and sent to a brick prison, serves his time, gets released from prison, gets a 2-year contract as a back-up quarterback for the Philadelphia Eagles, and they all live happily ever after.

Once Upon a Time, Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water. Jack fell down, broke his crown, and Jill came tumbling after.

Today, Dateline would have a 2 part episode called, “The Mystery of Jack and the Hill” as part of their Crime Story series. The show would outline how forensic evidence suggests that Jack’s fall was no accident, but rather an elaborate scheme by Jill to murder her husband. Jack and Jill had started dating when he was a star high school athlete and she was the head cheerleader. Jack was nimble and Jack was quick; he even jumped over a candlestick. But soon after they married times got tough. Jack Sprat could eat no fat and his wife could eat no lean. And so betwixt the two of them, they picked their platter clean. They had a son, Little Jack Horner, but he just sat in a corner eating his Christmas pie. And the house that Jack built? Well that’s a long story in and of itself. Jill was a jealous woman, accusing Jack of having affairs with Miss Muffet and even the Old Woman in the Shoe. Paternity tests proved that Jack was not the father of all of the Old Woman’s Children, but Jill remained jealous nonetheless. Jill’s suspicions finally got the best of her when Jack was spotted at the top of the hill with Little Bo Peep. She didn’t believe their story about searching for lost sheep and she pushed them both down the hill in a fit of jealous rage. Jill was arrested, charged with double homicide, released on bail, was involved in a low speed chase on a White Bronco ridden by Yankee Doodle Dandy, was represented in the trial by the Three Blind Mice, was found not guilty, and they all lived happily ever after…at least until Jill was arrested and convicted for armed robbery in a Las Vegas hotel room.

Full of Wax

A 6 year old boy was recently suspended from 1st grade in Delaware for bringing a camping utensil to school that serves as a fork, spoon, and knife (The article can be found here). Apparently the boy had just joined the Cub Scouts and was so excited about it that he wanted to use this utensil at school. By all accounts, the boy is a model student and even wears a shirt and tie to school on some days by his own choice. The school district in question has a zero tolerance policy when it comes to weapons in school and felt they had no choice but to suspend him. NOW THAT IS FULL OF WAX!!

What has our Nation come to when a 6 year old boy faces suspension and a 45-day stay in the district’s reform school for wanting to show his enthusiasm for an organization widely recognized as being a positive role model for the nation’s youth?

I blame everyone for this. I blame the law makers for not explicitly giving school administrators more authority to make their own judgments in cases like these. I blame the administrators for not figuring a better way to deal with this than by the letter of the law.  I blame the teacher for not having more common sense and for escalating it to this level in the first place. I blame all of the hyper-sensitive parents for all of the lawsuits they have generated because their precious child was teased at school. I blame the psychopaths from Columbine, Virginia Tech, and every other school massacre for getting our collective fear level to the point where common sense is an afterthought. I blame the gun makers for telling us that “guns don't kill people, people kill people”. We are so afraid of getting sued, getting fired, looking bad, being different, taking a stand, and generally raging against the machine that we've gotten to the point where suspending a 6 year old boy is acceptable. 

In the same article it mentions a case of a third grade student who was expelled for bringing a knife to school. Sounds reasonable until you learn why the knife was brought to school.  It was there to cut the birthday cake that her grandmother had made for her. Oh yeah, the girl’s teacher used the knife to cut herself a piece of the cake right before she turned the little girl in. Seriously?

I would venture to guess that childhood obesity causes more absence, injury, illness, and death amongst school children than school violence. Should we start banning candy from school? Should there be a zero tolerance rule for cupcakes? Why do school districts pack our children's lunchrooms with sugar and fat when 15% of our nation's youth are considered considerably overweight.  That's 9 million kids, a number that has nearly tripled over the past 30 years.  And it gets worse.  According to the stats, the super-obesity rate has increased by 100% in the past 20 years and 7 million children have high cholesterol.  Maybe that 3rd grader should have been allowed to carry the knife and the cake should have been confiscated at the door. 

I think teachers do a great job and I think they are incredibly underpaid for the criticality of their work and for the dedication most of them give. But they have also gotten soft as a profession. We give them half-days and days off for staff development when the rest of the professional world has to figure out how to fit it in no matter how busy their schedule is. We have parents volunteering on a daily basis to put together go home folders and grade homework so the teacher doesn’t have to. We have docents of every kind so a first grade teacher doesn’t have to create art projects.  I get it, the curriculum you are forced to teach doesn't allow for a single extra second of time for you to do anything more than you already do.  I realize you think you need to move on to the next subject or topic in your Stepford Teacher's Manual even though two-thirds of your class doesn't yet understand what you just taught them.  But isn't the point of being a teacher to make sure that your student's are getting taught?  Maybe instead of staff development once a week that cuts the school day by 2 hours, we should force you to spend your nights and weekends developing.  After all, isn't that what you are asking my child to do when you give them homework every night and projects that require them to work on the weekends?
And society at large needs to stop suing and being worried about being sued and start doing the right thing. Start treating your neighbor as you would like to be treated. Start doing the right thing regardless of how unpopular the decision may be or what parent you may anger.  Start backing the people who are trying to make a difference and stop looking the other way when you know something is wrong.  You know it takes a village to raise a child but apparently it only takes a camping utensil to ruin them.

The Enema Opus

I’ve been struggling to figure out what to write. I’m hoping this isn’t writer’s block since I’ve only had a handful of posts. That would be very sad if my creative reservoir is drained already. In like a lion and out like a lamb. Maybe I’m missing a muse. Everyone needs an inspiration and perhaps mine has just gone on vacation for a while. But I’m intent on posting something this morning and I’ll keeping putting letters and words together until they become sentences and paragraphs on the screen. Consider this an ambling through the woods. No particular destination in mind, I just need the exercise.

The problem I’m continuing to find is that my mind doesn’t work in sentences and paragraphs. I work in lists. My 10 favorite movies really aren’t a very creative or interesting blog though (in case you are interested they are Braveheart, Shawshank Redemption, Caddie Shack, On Golden Pond, Rudy, Goodfellas, Rocky, Raiders of the Lost Ark, and Bull Durham).

My mind is working in blurts. No cohesive thoughts, just a random mess of words and phrases thrown onto the screen. My keyboard has turrets syndrome. 31 Flavors, Green, The Woodpecker, Magic 8 Ball, Dunder Mifflin, Bagels, Burritos, Tea (one-bag only), Lance the butler, the candy train, Mexico, “No, but I stayed at a Holiday Inn Express last night”, Tabosu, and of course No Wax. Try and make some sense of that.

I wish there was a City of Life. It would be a place where all of the dreams you have when you say “In another life” would come true. I’ve actually Googled City of Life, Town of Life, Corporation of Life, Life City, and Life town. Other than a Christian Church in Missouri named City of Life, none of these places exist (naturally). I think I’d feel better if there was some place on earth that I could actually go named Life. If someone could find it for me I’d be eternally grateful.

I’m working in lists again…my 10 favorite ice cream flavors. Gold Medal Ribbon, Rainbow Sherbet, Mint Chocolate Chip, Lemon Ice, Cookie Dough, Tutti Frutti, Bubble Gum, Vanilla, and Cookies & Cream. I don’t understand Mocha, Jamoca, or Coffee flavored ice creams. I’d love spumoni if it wasn’t for the damned pistachios. Sugar Cone, never cup. Chocolate sauce and Caramel on Mint Chocolate Chip. Vanilla on any sort of pie. Rainbow Sherbet, Tutti Frutti, Lemon Ice, and Bubble Gum because it makes you feel like a kid again. Cookie Dough just because it’s good. Gold Medal Ribbon because of the caramel. And Cookies & Cream makes the best shakes.

Turrets again…Pooh and the honey, floor wipers, a dollar bill, blinking red lights, and It’s All in My Head.

Pizza, Hamburgers, Swedish Fish, Pie, French Fries, Mashed Potatoes, Pasta, Oatmeal Raisin Cookies, Bacon, and French Toast. 10 foods I couldn’t live without, for those who are playing at home.

I’ve left a trail of bread crumbs to find my way home and the surroundings are starting to look familiar again. It’s not the City of Life, and I’m not sure my keyboard has regained control over the words, but I’m hoping to return to sentences and paragraphs in the very near future. Sometimes the brain just needs a high colonic to clean itself out.

Random Thoughts of Mindlessness Vol. 2

1) I've noticed that most bottled water companies are now proclaiming their bottles are made with significantly less plastic. This is, no doubt, a response to the environmental issues associated with plastic disposal and the subsequent flocking of people towards eco-friendly, reusable steel bottles. However, I'm also quite sure making a bottle with less plastic also costs less to produce. So why is my bottled water more expensive now instead of cheaper? And why were the bottled water companies not smart enough to figure this out on their own to reduce their operating costs? Seems to me they could have saved millions of dollars years ago.

2) Why can't AM radio figure out how to keep a reception when I drive under a bridge or go into a parking garage? We can communicate with relative clarity to the Space Shuttle but I can't listen to sports radio when I go under an overpass.

3) What's happened to all of the phone booths? I understand pay phones in general have become obsolete due to cell phones, but the phone booths seemed to have just disappeared overnight. Where on earth is Superman going to change now?

4)  Why don't you ever see any commercials for Tivo?  Seems to me those watching commercials are their absolute target audience.  Much like the apartment signs that read, "If you lived here, you'd already be home" I can see a Tivo add that reads, "If you had Tivo, you wouldn't have to watch this commercial". Does TV advertising simply go against the company's belief system?  Possibly, but I know of no other company whose target audience will always be exactly the people who are watching the commercial. 

5)  I don't care about Global Warming and I'm fine admitting it. I will never go green except for the times when doing so saves me money. I will only buy a hybrid vehicle in order to save money on gas and to drive in the HOV lane. I will only recycle because I'm forced to do so and because my regular garbage can is not large enough to fit all of my trash. I will continue to drive an SUV or any other gas guzzling vehicle of my liking. I will run the air conditioner until I freeze, will throw away my batteries, keep electronics plugged in even when they are turned off, burn wood in my fireplace for as long as I choose, never care about my carbon footprint, and will never under any circumstance buy a carbon credit.

6)  Why do people preface what they are about to say with, "To be honest,"?  What about all of the others things you just said?  Were you not honest on those?  Are you only honest when you give me that disclaimer? 

7)  Why do we insist on trying to improve everything?  I realize that constantly striving for perfection is part of what has made our country great, but I think some things are better left alone.  For example, speed bumps worked just fine; why do we need speed humps?  Pizza is quite possibly the greatest invention of all time, yet annually someone is trying to fill the crust with cheese, or have the sauce on top, or put meat in the crust, etc.  Just leave the damn thing alone.  New Coke was forced upon us when Old Coke was selling just fine.  Monopoly doesn't need to have a version for every city on earth or for your favorite movie; Park Place and Boardwalk work just fine.  We got it right with shoelaces; you really don't see much velcro these days do you?  Peanut Butter and Jelly in the same tube??  Are you kidding me?  Is it really that hard to spread each on their own? 

8)  On the other hand, there are things just begging for improvement that are being completely ignored. Why do we use nice smelling, soft to the touch, flushable wet wipes for babies when adults use the toilet paper equivalent of sand paper to wipe themselves?  We have terrible gas gauge dials in our cars where you have to guess how much gas is remaining.  Why aren't digital readouts for fuel standard on cars now?  And they should not only tell you how much further you can drive, but also exactly how many gallons are left and how close you are to the nearest gas station.  And along those same lines, why do motorcycles have reserve tanks but cars do not?  I'd like to see a lawn mower created that edges while you mow.  I don't know why I should have to do both.  Why do I still have to sign credit card receipts?  Shouldn't credit cards just adopt the pin methodology and allow me to type in a 4 number password?  Why don't windshield wipers work well or last long enough?  We have technology that senses when it is raining and automatically turns them on, yet we can't figure out a way to actually make you see better once they are on.  Why do we still have mailmen that walk from door to door to deliver the mail?  I can't think of a larger waste of a person's time than to have them walking around delivering catalogs that no one reads, junk mail that gets thrown away, and bills that should have already been delivered electronically. 

9)  Why is the snooze button so large and the off button so small?  No wonder we oversleep.

10)  Why am I asked every time at the store whether I want paper or plastic?  I'd like the store to just take a stand and pick one or the other.  I don't want to have to make that choice and the reality is I still don't know which one is the right one to pick.  And why do I have to be asked whether I want something double bagged?  You are the expert...you tell me.  And use a little logic when it comes to asking if I need help outside. Its one bag of Skittles, I think I can handle it.  PS., the express lane is called that for a reason.  You shouldn't be allowed to buy cigarettes there, even if you have less than 10 items.  You shouldn't be allowed to use coupons, write checks, ask for a price check, buy stamps, talk to the cashier, talk to your friends, discipline your kids, chat on the phone, juggle your venti half-caf 180 degree non-fat soy latte while you search for exact change, chew gum, pick out candy, buy lottery tickets, or do anything else that prevents you from taking the shortest amount of time to pay for your 10 or less (That doesn't mean 11) items and get the hell out of my way.

Once Upon a Time, Reality Edition

Back by popular demand, I give you another installment of Once Upon a Time.  Since this is my blog and I can do anything I like, I'm going to take the liberty of expanding these segments to movies and TV shows along with traditional fairy tales.  Hope you enjoy.

Once upon a time, there was a man named Jed; a poor mountaineer who barely kept is family fed.  Then one day as he was searching for some food, up from the ground came a bubbling crude...oil that is, black gold, Texas tea.  Well, the next thing you know ole Jed's a millionaire.  Kin folk say, "Jed move away from here.  California is the place you outta be."  So Jed loaded up the truck and he moved to Beverly....Hills that is.  Swimming pools.  Movie Stars.
Today, Jed would be an Iraq war veteran who has returned home a broken man with a broken body, only to find out that his wife of 30 years has died in a mass shooting at a health club.  Jed is out of work and unable to care for his family, yet still finds a way to be a foster parent for babies born with crack and alcohol addictions.  Jethro and Elly May are forced to share a small broom closet as a room and Granny runs a soup kitchen off her back porch.  Their house is in complete disrepair, much too small to accommodate their philanthropic efforts, and their story is submitted to ABC for inclusion on Extreme Makeover:  Home Edition.  One morning Ty Pennington and his magic bus show up on their lawn, the crew transforms their dilapidated shack into a 5000 sq. foot mansion, Jed exclaims "Wee Doggies" when he opens the garage to find a new Prius, Elly May becomes a contestant on Hell's Kitchen, Jethro finally gets himself a cement (pronounced seement) pond, Granny gets busted for selling moonshine, Mrs. Drysdale joins the cast of The Real Housewives of Orange County, Mr. Drysdale ends up in prison for running a Ponzi scheme, and they all live happily ever after.

Once Upon a Time, there was a story of a lovely lady, who was bringing up 3 very lovely girls.  All of them had hair of gold, like their mother, the youngest one in curls.  Here's the story, of a man named Brady, who was busy with 3 boys of his own.  They were 4 men, living all together, yet they were all alone.  Til the one day when the lady met the fellow.  And they knew it was much more than a hunch.  That this group would somehow form a family and that's the way they all became the Brady Bunch.
Today, the Brady's would have a reality show called Carol and Mike Plus Tikes and we'd all tune in weekly to see the unrealistic reality of raising a large family in the twenty-first century. With a cable TV show and Mike's architectural firm booming, and thanks to some creative financing, the Brady's decide to move to 5000 sq. foot home formerly inhabited by The Clampetts. The Brady's loan begins to adjust, the housing market plummets causing Mike's architectural business to fold, their bank account turns to red as their lawn turns to brown, and the Brady's are forced to move after their house was sold to Khloe Kardashian and Lamar Odom on the county court steps. The Brady's marriage begins to strain, reports surface that Carol is cheating with Sam the Butcher, Mike gets photographed leaving a club at 2 am with one of Marsha's friends, the American public realizes the Brady's are far more interesting when they are fighting, the couple decides to divorce, and they all live happily ever after.

Once upon a time, there was a tale.  A tale of a fateful trip, that started on a tropic point aboard a tiny slip.  The mate was a mighty sailin' man.  The skipper brave and sure.  Five passengers set sail that day for a 3 hour tour...a 3 hour tour. The weather started getting rough; the tiny ship was tossed. 
If not for the courage of the fearless crew, the Minnow would be lost...the Minnow would be lost.  No phone(s)! No light(s)! No motor car(s)!  Not a single luxury.  Like Robinson C-ru-soe, it's primitive as can be.
Today, Gilligan and gang would all be contestants on Survivor.  Mrs. Howell would be the first voted off after she expresses to her show-mates that Survivor was nothing more than a free vacation for her.  Mr. Howell is the token old man, calls everyone "Lovey", and gets voted off 2nd when everyone finds out he is already a millionaire.  The Professor is smart enough to produce fire from a leaf and a bobby pin, builds a makeshift transistor radio out of coconuts and seaweed, but isn't bright enough to use the 2 immunity idols he found thus preventing Ginger and The Skipper's secret alliance from booting him off 3rd.  The Skipper is next to go when his island mates get angry at him for constantly berating Gilligan, his excessive flatulence, and the fact he eats 3/4 of the food they have.  Ginger goes down 5th, creates skin care products made purely from coconut extract and sand, makes millions selling the products on QVC, makes an appearance on The Celebrity Apprentice, marries Donald Trump, divorces Donald Trump, poses in Playboy, marries Hugh Hefner, divorces Hugh Hefner, gets into politics, becomes Governor of Alaska, and runs for Vice President in John McCain's failed bid at the Presidency.  The final is between Gilligan and Mary Ann, where it is revealed they've had a showmance since week 1.  Gilligan convinces the jury to vote for Mary Ann, proposes to her after she gets named winner, they do a series of other reality shows together including Gilligan and Mary Ann Get Married, and they all live happily ever after.

Once Upon a Time

What's happened to fairy tales?  Did the Brothers Grimm and Disney just get it so right that we decided to stop with Snow White and Cinderella?  Or are we bombarded with so much information via TV and the Internet that we no longer have any capacity to believe in them?  And if fairy tales were written today, what would they look like?

Once upon a time, Cinderella lost her slipper and the handsome prince searched high and low until he found the foot it fit. 
Today, there would be a reality show for the Prince to pick Cinderella out of 20 women who live together in a mansion in Beverly Hills.  He would ultimately find her, they'd become "friends" on Facebook, exchange cell numbers, and spend a great deal of their work day texting each other.  After dating for a short period, the Prince would find out via US Weekly she is cheating on him with a cast member of The Hills.  Feeling spurned, our hero would send Cinderella an endless stream of texts, stalk her house, and post risque pictures of her on the web.  Naturally, Cinderella would have to get a restraining order, the Prince would finally begin to understand she wasn't interested, he'd become a contestant on The Bachelorette, and they all live happily ever after.

Once upon a time, Hansel and Gretel had a horrible stepmother that neglected them and abandoned them in a forest where they become enslaved by a wicked witch with intents on eating them.  Forced to outwit the witch in order to escape, they return home with an abundant treasure, find out their wicked stepmother is dead, and happily reunite with their remorseful father. 
Today, Hansel and Gretel would be child stars on Disney, making millions acting, singing, dancing, and selling merchandise to every girl ages 8-14.  Hansel would begin drinking at age 15, cause controversy by saying outrageous things about Gretel and Disney execs via Tweet, critically injure his best friend by wrapping his SL500 around a tree after partying all night, and utlimately wind up as a 15 minute spot on Where are They Now.  Gretel would pledge to remain a virgin, begin dating the lead singer from a boy band, forget that she pledged to be a virgin, and then go through a nasty breakup.  Gretel would turn to drugs to dull the pain and have photos of her doing embarrassing things appear on the cover of various celebrity rags.  She'd have several brushes with the law, her father would take control of her massive fortune that she's been wasting away, and she'd be forced to go into rehab to deal with her drug addiction.  After years of personal turmoil, Hansel and Gretel would get their lives in order, pull together a reunion tour, become contestants on Dancing with the Stars, and they all live happily ever after.

Once upon a time, Jack was given 5 magic beans that, once planted, sprouted a giant beanstalk.  Jack climbed the beanstalk 3 times taking home with him gold coins, a golden egg hatching hen, and a magical harp.  Jack cuts down the beanstalk as the giant was chasing him down, causing the giant to come crashing to the ground and the beanstalk to split in half.
Today, Jack would be a radical Berkley Environmentalist who protests any form of urban development.  After finding out the bean stalk is to be cut down in order to erect an Ikea, Jack decides to scale the stalk, set up a stalk house, and refuses to come down until the plans for expansion are aborted.  After several months and multiple lawsuits, the Birkenstock wearing and patchouli smelling Jack is forcibly removed from the bean stalk by local police.  As a PR move, Ikea agrees to use 1% of the store's revenue to buy carbon credits, Jack gets a book deal, begins dating a Victoria Secret model, and they all live happily ever after.

And while I know it's not a fairy tale.....Once upon a time, Superman left Krypton, moved to Metropolis, and became a reporter at the Daily Planet where no one ever put 2 and 2 together to realize Clark Kent and Superman were one in the same.  Upon identifying all sorts of hazards, Superman would find a phone booth, change into his famous red and blue outfit, and use his super powers to save the world.
Today, Superman works at TMZ and is the head of Teamsters Local 31, the superhero labor union.  He is named People's sexiest man alive and is uniformly recognized as the world's most eligible bachelor.  A local school is burning and thanks to the cell phone boom, he is unable to find a phone booth in which to change from Clark Kent to Superman.  He sneaks into an alley, unfortunately in the Castro, where he is photographed in his red and blue tights by a member of the paparazzi.  The photos are broadcast all over the world, his true identity is revealed, and questions immediately begin to surface regarding the nature of his relationship with Jimmy Olsen.  Superman refuses to answer questions regarding his sexuality, saying it's a matter of privacy and nobody's business but his.  He becomes a recluse for several months, marries the daughter of a former Rock and Roll icon, adopts a 7 month old child from Malawi, and they all live happily ever after.

The moral of the story is times have changed.  We build our heroes up only to break them down on the world's biggest stages.  We continually put them on pedestals and under microscopes until they are no longer interesting or until they self destruct.  As a society we want our heroes to be superhuman, yet spend all of our efforts showing how they are the exact opposite.  And our heroes are no better.  They live their lives seeking attention from all of us, desperately doing whatever is necessary to wind up on TV or in a magazine.  When they no longer need the media and all of us, they refuse to grant autographs, hide their faces from photographs, barricade themselves behind large mansion walls, and generally give their adoring public a giant middle finger.

As for me, I hope my life story begins: Once upon a time, a man lived completely without wax.

The Moonside of the Flip

I’d like to believe a world exists where you do things in reverse order from how it’s done in our world. Where the last step becomes the first. Where the final chapter is on page 1. I want to believe we don’t always have it right; that you don’t need to wet your hair before you apply the shampoo, instead the instructions read repeat, rinse, lather. I would find it comforting to have products such as before shave, poster (rather than primer), and make-up that would be applied before you shower. Naturally, dinner would be eaten in the morning, lunch would still be mid-day, and breakfast would be eaten in the evening. Then again, in opposite world, the evening would be morning and morning would be evening, so I suppose you’d still be eating your meals in their pre-destined slots.

In oppo world, the stop light was created before there were cars. Jails were created before there were criminals. The Internet was created before the computer, and both of which were created by Tipper Gore instead of Al.

On the flip side, we've never had a male President, Republicans and Democrats actually get along, our government operates in a surplus, and people are voted into public office based on their worth instead of the familiarity of their name.

As for sports, most basketball players are White, most hockey players are Black, the New York Yankees haven’t won the World Series since 1908, and Tiger Woods caddies for Steve Williams…on the Converse tour.

Men have womenstrual cycles called commas and women ask whether their clothes make them look skinny.

People get divorced before they get married and have kids after they get married.

Water is full of calories, jelly beans are packed with beta carotene, hippies are meatatarians, brownies are a food group, and pizza is a primary component of all weight loss programs.

There are constitutional amendments banning prostate exams, cigarette smoking, mushrooms, the common cold, high energy bills, seeded grapes, pulp in orange juice, and patchouli.

And last, but certainly not least, Ishtar is the greatest movie of all time, home loans are given to people who can afford them, there are more humorists than terrorists, the chicken comes before the egg, Britney Spears is a member of the 700 Club, people actually read this Blog, the Magic 8 Ball accurately predicts the future, toxic relationships come with surgeon general warnings, cars have more gas the more they are driven, oil producing countries are appreciative of Americans for continuing to have a use for what would otherwise be thousands of square miles of useless sand, workers stay home well, AT&T never drops a call, MAC’s are virus prone, and most importantly the sun revolves around the moon.

When I meet God

Through grace alone I know I have a chance to meet God some day. And, while I hope that day is in the very distant future, I can only dream that I get the chance for a 30 minute sit down with Him to find out all of the world's mysteries.

I hope to find out from Him why it takes tender care, watering, proper soil, just the right amount of sun, and good fortune to grow a flower when weeds will grow endlessly with no effort at all.

I hope to understand why he's cursed the loyal, faithful, devoted Cubs fans for so long while the annoying, fickle, angry Yankees fans are so regularly rewarded.

I'm interested to find out what would have happened if Adam and Eve didn't eat the apple. Would the Bible and Jesus still exist? How would their stories be different?

I'd like to understand His rationale for giving us free will...we clearly can't handle it.

I'd like to find out if he intended for blondes to have more fun or if that's just the way it worked out.

I want to know why Charles Manson is still alive and Princess Diana is dead.

I'm curious to know that if we were made in His own image, does He also regularly get kidney stones, suffer from lactose intolerance, snore when He's sleeping, have allergies only in Indiana, get agitated when He's hungry, and tear up every time He watches the movie Rudy.

And finally, I want to know when Jesus will return, where all of the single socks lost in the laundry have gone, where Jimmy Hoffa was buried, who shot JFK, the chicken or the egg, why the really cute girl I walked past every day in college never gave me the time of day, whether dogs have feelings and why cats couldn't care less, if He likes Swedish Fish, whether everyone has a specific quality that could make them the Tiger Woods of their area, is He on Facebook, what's on His iPod, did He ever pop in to check up on me, was I a success or failure in His eyes, is He disappointed, why it was necessary for finger and toe nails to grow, what use tonsils had at one point, why He clearly is a New England sports fan, whether He thinks the Godfather or Star Wars was the greatest trilogy of all time, whether He would have voted for Obama, does He drive a Prius, did He ever do the macarena, was Beer created just so we could have at least one decent commercial on TV, if He too thinks speed humps were a useless invention, roundabouts or stop signs, Beatles or Beach Boys, the biggest mistake I ever made, do we ever make Him proud, and why microwave popcorn won't pop once the bag is opened.

Random Thoughts of Mindlessness

1) I feel sorry for Patrick Swayze. Not only because he had cancer and not only because he died far too young. I feel sorry for him because he will forever be remembered in tributes as The Dirty Dancing Guy. As if that is not bad enough, he also uttered what is likely the worst line in movie history, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner."

2) I don't understand how people can brush their teeth in a public restroom. Clearly they care about hygiene or else they wouldn't be doing the midday brush in the first place. But why in a public bathroom? Maybe Ladies' rooms are different, in fact I'm sure they are, but the Men's room in most public places can best be described as one of the levels in Dante's Circles of Hell.

3) I don't get cuff links. Moreover, I don't get why people still wear them. I need someone to explain to me why expensive shirts have buttons on the front, but not on the arms. I need someone to explain to me why they want to spend money to buy something that keeps your sleeve from rolling up. Maybe there was a time for them. I can see at some point in history where having cuff links was a sign of stature or possibly the only way to get a great quality shirt made. Now, I think it's just a subtle way for people to say they are better, smarter, more intellectual and have more money than you.

4) Why are there laugh tracks on sitcoms? Either the producers/writers don't think we are smart enough to get their jokes or they think their jokes are not good enough to make us laugh. They are so prevalent now that I hardly ever hear the laugh. Is that the intent? Is there some subliminal message built in that will make me continue to watch such horrible shows as Punky Brewster and Alf? Why are there no crying tracks, or cheering tracks, or moaning & groaning tracks for other types of shows?

5) When did we get to the point as a society that it was necessary to make every child feel like a winner? When did we decide that merely playing a sport guarantees you a trophy? When did we decide that every child needs a snack after playing? Why do parents feel the need to outdo everyone else when it comes to the snack game? Week 1 you can get away with a box of juice and chopped apples, but by week 10 people are grilling Filet Mignon and serving Tiara Misu. I think sports are just an indicator of how we've gone soft as a society and possibly one of the many reasons why we are being passed by much less developed countries. We have no drive. We have no need to succeed because someone has told us since birth that no matter what we do we are just as good as everyone else. We are rewarded for mediocrity and, worse yet, we are not rewarded for the exceptional. Why is it wrong to earn a trophy by winning? Why is it wrong to keep score of a game? Why is it wrong to play good players more than bad ones? Why is it wrong to actually want to encourage kids to do more than they ever thought they could?

6) Nothing gives me greater satisfaction than coming up to an elevator and realizing it's on the same floor as I am. I love hitting the button and seeing the doors open. It's like an old friend opening their arms in a warm embrace.

7) While we are on the topic of elevators, why are people so anti-social in them? Have you ever noticed that if 5 people get into an elevator they will line themselves all around the outside and stare at the floor, ceiling, or straight ahead? Turning your head from side to side is strictly forbidden and making eye contact with someone else is an offense punishable by death.

8) Have you ever noticed in meetings that people tend to take a drink of something right after they speak? I suppose it's a nervous habit that somehow acts as a shield to protect them from the judging eyes of those around them.

9) There used to be a dietary supplement called Ayds (Pronounced Aids). Seriously, there was. It was popular in the late 70's and early 80's right up until...... I actually thought the pills were the cause of the Aids disease as apparently millions of others did as well. By the mid-80's sales had dropped nearly 50% because of the disease. Take a look at one of the old commercials and imagine the PR nightmare caused by the unintentional similarities to the wasting away associated with the Aids virus. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lANAkOMa-6k

10) I love being next in line. In many ways it's better than being "at the counter" because once you are there, your clock starts counting down to when you have to leave. Next in line means you have the next possible opportunity to get what you want. It means you don't have to wait much longer. You actually can see the light at the end of the tunnel. You may think I'm going a little overboard on this one, but think for a minute when you are dead last in a long line. It feels like crap. It feels like you have no chance at all to do what you came to do. You actually get angry at the people in front of you, as if they have somehow intruded on your mission to achieve your Holy Grail. Ahh, but then you crawl towards the front, step by step, until you realize you are next in line. It's a great feeling. The only downside with being next in line is you always run the risk of what you waited so long to get, being taken by the person already at the counter.

Mrs. God

I'll start by saying I'm a believer. And not just in a way so you don't feel guilty when someone asks you if you have faith or believe in God. So this is in no way an attempt at blasphemy or in no way meant to disparage any religion or belief. However, I got to thinking the other day about what it would be like for God if he was married. But before I post, some background. According to the bible, God and Jesus are one, therefore I'm using Mrs. God as the spouse for both God and Jesus related events. Probably not biblically correct, but neither is giving the Alpha and Omega a wife. My top 10 thoughts:

1) Mrs. God on the Temptation (Genesis 3:1-24): "I told you giving them free-will was a mistake, but would you listen? NOOOO. Why listen to the woman? What could she possibly know about creating an entire human race. I suppose you think you know everything!"

2) Mrs. God on the Flood (Genesis 6-9): "I told you 2 months ago to handle the boarding of the pets. We're going on vacation in 3 days and you still haven't found a place for our animals."

3) Mrs. God on Jesus Returning (The Revelation): "Are you going to do something with that World? It's been sitting there doing nothing for 10,000 years and you keep telling me you'll get to it. It's a mess and an eyesore. Either you fix it or I'm calling someone to haul it away."

4) Mrs. God on The Tower of Babel (Genesis 11): "No, I do not think that is an appropriate tribute to my mother."

5) Mrs. God on Feeding the 5000 (Matthew 14:13-21): "We have some friends over and you forget to order food? Are you kidding me? Why do I have to do everything? Why is it my responsibility to take care of all the details? And what are we going to drink? I don't think that water is going to magically turn into wine."

6) Mrs. God on the Apostles: "I don't mind your friends coming to visit. I really don't. But when are they going to leave? Why is Peter always listening to the Counting Crows? And I know you really don't like Judas, but he's my sister's husband and it's important to me that you both get along."

6) Mrs. God on Job (Book of Job): "When I told you to get a J.O.B., I was referring to work."

7) Mrs. God on Moses Wandering for 40 years (Exodus): "The two of you just couldn't stop for a minute and ask for directions, could you?"

8) Mrs. God on the Burning Bush (Exodus 3:1-5): "GOD!! I know you were sneaking a smoke outside again. Don't even try to hide it from me this time."

9) Mrs. God on the 10 Commandments (Exodus 20): "Your name is God after all and I was pointing out a blockage in the river. I don't think you needed a commandment for that."

10) Mrs. God on Joseph and the Coat (Gen. 37-50): "The poor boy already gets teased because of his love of music theater and Judy Garland and you had to get him that for his birthday?"

Things that Annoy Me

1) People who drive slowly in the fast lane: Pay attention next time this happens. I think you'll find that a large majority of the time it is someone driving a pickup or an SUV.

2) People who put the Apple sticker on PC's: Yes, I get it. You are a MAC person who is forced by your company to use a PC and you just can't resist your little hint of civil disobedience. I can't believe your company has the nerve to buy you a brand new PC that doesn't allow you to easily view multi-media at work and doesn't come pre-loaded with iTunes. The nerve of them. Just another way "The Man" is trying to keep you down.

3) Toothpaste Tubes: Why do I have to work so hard to get all of the toothpaste out? Instead of creating a new toothpaste that turns colors when my all of my teeth are brushed, just fix the damn tube so I can get what I've paid for.

4) People who give exact change: Why is it so important for people to pay for things with the exact change? Don't they know there are people waiting in line behind them? Is it really that big of a deal to get $.37 back? Is this something that happens to you when you turn 50? And how did they get all of that change to begin with if they are always paying the bill to the penny?

5) People who pay by check: Why on earth does anyone need to pay for anything, other than an occasional bill, by check? Why do you insist on writing a check when there are 53 people behind you in line? Why do stores even accept checks? Why do those check writing people only start writing the check once the final total is tallied? I understand you don't yet know the amount, but I'm pretty sure the name of the store and the current date are not going to change while she is ringing up your groceries. And why do you have to fill in your check register while you are still standing in front of me in line?

6) Compact Parking Spots: I'd rather you just admit that you didn't have enough room to build an appropriately sized parking lot instead of making 3/4 of the spaces only big enough for a Yugo (Yes, you heard me right, Yugo...I refuse to even mention the word "Smart" car. Damn...I just did). And what is the point of the compact space? Was it some failed attempt to encourage us to buy smaller cars? Don't they know that pickup truck and SUV drivers just don't care about the laws of the road?

7) Handicap spaces at Gyms: I'll refrain from poking at handicapped spaces in general, although I do believe they are one of the most abused public traffic perks in the World. However, I cannot hide my complete disdain for handicapped spaces at a Gym. I'm sorry, but if you are capable enough to go work out, then you are capable enough to park where I do.

8) People who post their every move on Facebook: I hate to admit it, but I see the value of Facebook in general. I'm even a member and do enjoy catching up with old friends from time to time. But I don't care what you need in order to get to level 111 on Mafia Wars. I don't care what color my kiss is. I don't want you to send me a shot of Patron on a Friday. I don't care which member you are of the Brady Bunch, Melrose Place, Gilligans Island, or any other long lost TV program. I don't care if you are bored, whether you love your hubby, if you are bloated, what you had for dinner, when you are going to bed, what you are currently doing on vacation, what your 3 year old just fell into, what you are cooking for dinner, what your birthday is, or whether or not you are stressed. Enough said.

9) People who wear shorts and hats to work: You either don't care or you've given up.

10) Crying babies, sticky hands, missing socks, people who change my car seat or rear view mirror placement, decaf coffee, bleu cheese, ear wax, chalk, flies, stale bread, dry cake, foreign speaking drive through attendants, ATM surcharges, warm pillows, tags on shirts, cats, dry hands, chapped lips, and bad air conditioners. Did I miss anything?

We Interrupt this Blog for a Special Offer

I honestly cannot believe that people are getting paid to make the terrible commercials that are on TV these days. I'd like to think the talent pool in the advertising world is drying up with the advent of the DVR, but for as long as I can remember TV commercials have sucked. Why is it that beer companies almost never have a bad commercial? It really just boils down to a complete and total lack of effort on the part of the company advertising. They are looking for me to spend my hard earned money on their products yet they appear to do almost nothing to make me pay attention to what they are selling. It's insulting. My top 10 commercial observations:

1) Why are commercials about beds almost always located outside? I have never once seen a bed outside, yet I know of at least 3 commercials where the focus is on people on beds outside. One of them is even on a hill overlooking the GG Bridge!! None of them are actually sleeping or really doing anything other than lying in some akward pose.

2) Why do erectile dysfunction commercials always have a man and woman in separate bath tubs outside? Is this really the demographic of the ED couple? Do they all go to Sonoma and sit in tubs by Vinyards? This is impractical for numerous reasons. I'd like to see how they are going to have sex in one of those things. They are old and the tub is small. I don't' know how the tubs get filled and I don't know how they stay warm. I've got one word for why the man has ED...SHRINKAGE.

3) Why are local commercials so incredibly horrible? Have you ever seen a good local commercial? I understand local businesses don't have the ad budgets of a large company, but their efforts are not even close to acceptable. The production quality is horrible, the actors are terrible, the lines are awful. They are basically unwatchable.

4) Why are radio commercials even worse than local commercials? Do they think because you are trapped in a car that you are forced to listen to them? Have they done studies that show people don't change the station during commercials as much as they would turn the TV channel? Are they just at a point where they know they can't stop them but don't want to put any more money than is absolutely necessary into them? You would think radio spots need to be as good as possible since you not only don't have anything to look at, but the driver's attention also distracted by other more important chores...you know, talking on the cell phone, shaving, eating, putting on make-up, etc. There are radio spots that are so bad and have annoyed me so much, that I refuse to listen to the radio at all when they are on and refuse to buy any products from those companies. No, I will not make your phone ring, ring.

5) Why do they have dogs or bears as the main characters in toilet paper commercials? What on earth do animals have to do with toilet paper? I guess they are going after that soft and cuddly impression, but the reality is bears are vicious animals that kill their prey by scratching them until they bleed to death. Actually, now that I think about it, maybe that is an appropriate analogy for toilet paper.

6) Why are cigarette companies not allowed to have ads for smoking on TV and why can't alcohol companies show someone drinking alcohol in a liquor/beer commercial, yet they are allowed to routinely show both on television programs? I'm not quite sure what the difference is.

7) Why is it necessary for commercials to be several decibels louder than the TV program they so rudely interrupted? I'm sure they are just trying to get my attention, but don't they know I'm fast forwarding through them anyway?

8) Why do all TV stations have commercials at the same time? Wouldn't you think one of the crappy channels would stagger their commercials so the average user has something to turn to during a break? Wouldn't that give them at least a chance at gaining some market share? Nothing frustrates me more than being forced to watch a crappy commercial (see point 4 above).

9) Why is there a law that says you must list all side affects of a drug if you say what the drug does in the commercial? It doesn't really make the drug very appealing. I'm glad you created something to control my high cholesterol, but I'm not sure I'm okay with the risk of stroke, infertility, mild to moderate headaches, nausea, sore throat, itchy knees, irritable bowel syndrome, restless leg syndrome, Lou Gehrig's disease, cataracts, scurvy, and kidney stones.

10) Why is it that companies all have great commercials for the Superbowl? What they are telling me is they could apply themselves and give a little better effort the other 364 days of the year, but they choose not to. They are telling me they don't give a crap about what I think about their product until they have to pay $3 million for a 30 second spot. They are telling me they don't apply themselves until it makes financial sense or until they know someone is going to do a thorough ROI on the value of money spent. They are telling me that beer companies are not better at commercials, they just know how to be consistent (the irony here is drinkers will drink whether there are commercials or not). And most of all they are telling me they ABSOLUTELY KNOW that no one is watching their commercials any other time of the year.

Maybe I'm just a hick

I'm at a crossroads in my travel life. There is no question that I like the good life and go away on vacations to relax and experience a bit of how the other half lives. And by other half, I really mean about .00001% of people who can actually afford to do things other than pay bills these days. Anyway, I've become a bit of a travel snob of late and have a really hard time staying in anything other than great hotels (ps. for those of you in the midwest, despite it's name The Best Western is not a great hotel. It should really be called The Just Okay Western). The problem is the great hotels just do some incredibly weird things that put me right back into hickland. I'd like to share some observations from a recent stay I had at a 5-Star hotel.

#1 This hotel has a bath drawing service. Now that sounds really really cool. So cool, in fact, that I'd consider getting it even though I can't stand taking a bath. It's one of those things that makes you feel more important than you really are and is a pretty neat experience. Now here's the catch...the cheapest of the 5 bath services they have is $525. SERIOUSLY?? I'm pretty sure all you are doing is turning on the water and maybe throwing some sort of bubbling concoction in there. Ok, granted it comes with Champagne, but either I don't have a clue how much Krug costs or they are completely ripping me off. By the way, the most expensive of the services is over $1600. Who the hell has that much money to take a bath? I'm all for extravagance, but that is just out of control.

#2 Wine costs $15 a glass, beer is about $13, a good scotch costs $32 a glass, etc. And the part I'm aggravated about is that I'm not pissed paying it. Maybe that's why these hotels strive so hard to make you forget about the reality of your bank account. If I went into a local bar and was asked to pay that for a drink I would tell them to pound salt. Yet here I'm gladly shelling out the $240 bar tab for pre-dinner drinks as if I've suddenly turned into an oil baron on holiday. (For those who are interested, the Scotch was worth every single penny).

#3 So what does my $1600 bath drawing, $15 glass of wine selling hotel offer in terms of room amenities? Internet access for $15 per day and only 2 wash clothes. HUH? For $300 per night you can't throw down some free wifi? How is it the Days Inn over in Pokipsy offer it for $45 a night and these guys won't do it? That is actually offensive to me, which is why I'm currently sitting down the street at a Starbucks doing it for $3.99. And why do they give me 6 towels but only 2 wash clothes? I'd actually use a towel more than once as you are using that AFTER you are already clean. But the wash cloth is filled with your filth and grime from a day past. Last night they actually took out a wash cloth during turn down service and didn't replace it. What on earth am I supposed to do with only 1?

Free water in the room, pro. A small unit by my desk that controls everything electric in my room, pro. Giant flat screen TV, pro. The fact that giant TV is hooked up to an analog signal, major con. Oh wait, I can get HD if I pay you $14.95 for a movie. That's just great. I'm really happy about that.

I guess it boils down to wanting the good life without really wanting to pay for it. Maybe for the really rich being able to afford that sort of thing is part of the fun. Maybe a $500 bath is a barometer for success that is noted in the "I'm filthy rich" handbook you get when you are a multi-millionaire. Maybe there is some sort of crazy money scavenger hunt that includes a $1600 rose petal bath. But I have to tell you, I don't think I ever want to get to a point where I'm okay paying more for a bath than I am for a flight. Seems to me there must be a ton of candles around the tub, because that bath is simply full of wax.