I have trouble with all of the inspirational pictures, stories, and sayings floating around these days, especially the ones on social media where all of the aspiring Confucuses seem to be hanging out.
To me, in this day and age, the age of the *like* and the *comment*, it just seems to flow in a watered down effect.
Now don't get me wrong, I understand where it's coming from, and at times I do applaud the purpose, but lately I can't so much as refresh a page without someone through something telling me to get up, to get moving, and to make something of myself.
I also find it funny that these words of wisdom are usually accompanied by a pretty sunset, a tranquil oasis, or a spectacular pair of breasts. What!...a city dwelling, flat chested, heavy chick can't tell me it'll be all right?; a man with one leg, lice, and a muffin top, hopping along the asphalt, doesn't have the right to let me know it's OK to be me? And what of that child with no eyelids; the one wearing the parachute pants who has teeth that could open a can, is he too inarticulate when it comes to bullying?
Embedded in the glamor the message is getting lost. It's all too marketing-like now, too cute. Enough already! Enough with these cookie-cutter cyber bumper-stickers that are engineered for the fad crazed!
Before long they're going to have me feeling as though the only way I'm ever gonna be right with the universe is if I chisel out an 8-pack, spray on a tan, and don a speedo; putting my package out there for all to mock.
Tell me something; is a hundred and twenty eight pound Microsoft executive going to gain anything by reading a passage about the rigors of a long day of work from a mega-dude straddling a hog, with barbed wire around his 24 inch bicep and "bread for destruction" tattooed across his upper back, just because he is gazing off into the clouds?
Waterfalls, sunsets, prairies, wagons, blue skies, puffy clouds, tropical islands, yogurt covered raisins, microwave ovens ..... Am I to understand that when it's raining, and the setting is a parking garage, that there are no words, let alone a chance, for someone in need?
It's all about as relatable as thumbing through Glamor magazine.
I find this to be a huge problem, I do. I think, just like everything else in this country that has fallen under the umbrella of "fad-fix", that once the fad transport has set sail, the people who truly need to book passage, well, they get left behind in the wake.
I guess what I'm really trying to say is that every time I read one of these self-help mantras, I can't help but to think of those less fortunate, those not getting the "message".
Whenever I read something like, "The difficult road leads to choice and chance is the key to the blah blah blah", once the boobs wear off, I tend to think of those who have probably never had, or will never have, a chance or a choice, let alone the Internet connection guaranteeing them access to this latest cyber fortune that is notably worthy, at the very least, of a bland cookie shell and some lottery numbers.
In fact, I'm going to now go on record as saying this, "Here's to all of the folks who DO work extremely hard, who DO dream enormously big, and who ARE exponentially generous, yet somehow will never get noticed as they waste away under the dimly lit shitty job, terrible wage, scrawny physique, and the spouse who berates, smothers, and uses them".
Know what else? I'm going to recognize a few others. There are a whole lot of people out there who could use real help, and at the extreme very least, my piddly little recognition... but they're out there and so I'm going to mention them:
The family of four who will be sleeping on the street tonight, the ones who probably won't get that regular status update telling them to get off of their asses and to take charge.
The twelve year old in the hospital, the one with stage four cancer. She is waiting for a mother who is never late; a mother whose image is now going to be forever linked to a dirty, rain soaked, teddy bear that lay on the side of the road, a few feet away from the drunk driver in hand cuffs.
The twenty six year old autistic gentlemen who can't stand the physical pain of the embrace he so desperately craves. And what of his parents, the loving couple whose desire to embrace that man ignites whenever he's finished playing on the piano a symphony he's only just heard for the very first time.
The teenage boy, the one who is asked to translate the meaning of the love each and every time he diverts the attention of his enraged drunken father away from his mother.
Every eight year old with burn marks.
Fallen soldiers.... and their families.
The wife, the woman who lived and breathed fifty storybook years of marriage, the one who now cares 24/7 for a husband who doesn't remember her.
The child who was repeatedly beaten unconscious and the man now sleeping under the snowflakes bearing the weight of those memories.
Thursday, February 27, 2014
Monday, December 2, 2013
Winter Olympic.... Games?
Is it just me or is anyone else really pumped for the upcoming winter games? I don't know what it is that the winter has over the summer, I mean most of the sports are kind of comical to me, but I just look so forward to this installment of the Olympics.
Perhaps it's because I was an
avid skier, or maybe it's because while on a trip to Austria once, back in the
80's, I got to take a ride down the Olympic bobsled track from the '76 games of
Innsbruck. Whatever the case may be I
just get totally beside myself with anticipation as the winter fun draws nearer.
Now having said all of that, and
as much as I do love these wonderfully bizarre two weeks every four years, I do
want to go on record as saying that a few of the events, that are nestled
within the goodness that is the cold-weather-version of the greatest sports
show on earth, could use a bit of makeover, a little bit of a face lift, a tummy
tuck, if you will.
Look, just because I love the
games doesn't mean I can't see what might need to be fixed. In fact it's because of how much I love the
winter games that I offer up my opinions.
No sport should ever go
without change, especially when trying to match or keep up with the times; not
even the sacred sports arena that is the Olympiad.
After all, what better
positive energy source is there for a nation than country on country battle and
the experience of pride that comes with victory and sportsmanship?
On the flipside though, there
is no better way to tarnish such positivity or moral than to present us with
games that are so outdated and or stupid that embarrassment is felt leaving
viewership to be all but compromised.
Yes, there are some events
that are just plain dumb, and it's made it hard, even for me, to watch them.
So what I would like to do
now is I'd like to present to you some suggestions that I have come up; simple
ways to make some of the events in the winter Olympic games more updated and or
tolerable.
These are thoughts I've had
over the past few years about how the winter Olympic games could gain back some
of the mystique that it has, in my opinion, lost over the past few sessions.
What I have come up with here,
I believe, is nothing short of genius
and if the right people were to get a hold of this list, we could be in store
for some amazing future winter Olympic games.
What do I hope to get out of
this, you ask? Well I guess I'm hoping
for some feedback before I set out with my master plan of sending these
suggestions to the powers that be, the "National Institute Making
Recreation of Diversified Sports", or "NIMRODS" for short.
Anyway, the following is the complete list of the events I have a problem with or simply have suggestions for and how I think they could be made to be more interesting.
They are:
*Curling- Now I know you're thinking "That's an obvious target", and I agree, but there are a few things that can be done to intensify this misunderstood activity. Besides, in America, we want action!
Anyway, first thing to do here is to pick a name that fits the activity, like, "Moronic Shuffleboard" or "Doofuses on Ice".
Next, while these idiots are fanatically sweeping, shirtless by the way, afford the opposing team the right to thwack them with their brooms. Hell, let's up the stakes a bit shall we, what about a garden tool? For instance, let'em beat the shit out of each other with a hoe or maybe even a pitch fork.
How about instead of sweeping the ice we change it up completely? Give these guys a jack hammer or a flame thrower. Better still, how about a earth mover?
Perhaps holding the event on a pond covered by dangerously thin ice? I think that would make it interesting, how about that?
Now I'm sure a few of you out there are mad at me for this and I understand. Maybe some of you really get into this full on display of pure athleticism this sport has to offer. Perhaps you're angry with me for not acknowledging the intellectual side to the Olympic Games. Whatever, I'm just sayin' if you want more Americans to watch curling you'll need to make it worth wasting a beer on.
*Luge- Now here's a sport we all have regular access to. "Hey Bill, wanna come over and luge with the kids?"? What's the skill?!?! I say put these fuckers on a circular sled and that's that! At least then we'd all have a shot at making the Olympics or at the very least, we'd have relatability. You give me a guy in a unitard with a helmet and goggles, put him on a plastic yellow disc and send him down a hill at 83 mph?....... I'm watching!
"Look at Sven as he navigates through the 50/50 tunnel at turn number three, look how he holds the black handles with absolute precision. I tell ya folks, nobody does criss-cross-applesause like this guy; he truly exemplifies the meaning of perseverance and...... Uh Oh!!!, it appears Sven's gotten himself into an uncontrollable spin! Backwards is not a position you want to be in heading into "Devil's Curve".
*Freestyle Skiing (Moguls)- This sport gets an "A" for athleticism but I could make it better.
We all get it, you go real fast over bumps keeping your knees together and you then launch a couple of jumps, first one being the lesser in difficulty. Everyone looks the same to me! Yes I can tell the difference in jumps and yes I can see those that are faster than the others but it still needs something.
It needs something that will break up the monotony, something that will instill a little fear and an element of surprise. It needs the country on country heat turned up a bit. I say have random exploding moguls. Think about the excitement! It'll be roulette on snow! In fact, you can let a contestant from another country hold the detonator.
"Let's hear it for USA's Marty Mogul Hunter as he's propelled off jump number one into his patented "Cork-roll-heli-fucker!" This after nearly having his ass cheeks blown across the top of the course. And how about Sweden's own Surgi Yur-gonna-crash'n'burn racing for the finish line, six one hundredths of a second ahead and BOOM,!!! Body parts everywhere!"
In fact, to protect the spectators, you could make it like a Gallagher concert and have the first eight rows under plastic.
Gettin' a little violent for ya?
*Biathlon- Here are three ideas to jump start this painfully boring event.
Anyway, the following is the complete list of the events I have a problem with or simply have suggestions for and how I think they could be made to be more interesting.
They are:
*Curling- Now I know you're thinking "That's an obvious target", and I agree, but there are a few things that can be done to intensify this misunderstood activity. Besides, in America, we want action!
Anyway, first thing to do here is to pick a name that fits the activity, like, "Moronic Shuffleboard" or "Doofuses on Ice".
Next, while these idiots are fanatically sweeping, shirtless by the way, afford the opposing team the right to thwack them with their brooms. Hell, let's up the stakes a bit shall we, what about a garden tool? For instance, let'em beat the shit out of each other with a hoe or maybe even a pitch fork.
How about instead of sweeping the ice we change it up completely? Give these guys a jack hammer or a flame thrower. Better still, how about a earth mover?
Perhaps holding the event on a pond covered by dangerously thin ice? I think that would make it interesting, how about that?
Now I'm sure a few of you out there are mad at me for this and I understand. Maybe some of you really get into this full on display of pure athleticism this sport has to offer. Perhaps you're angry with me for not acknowledging the intellectual side to the Olympic Games. Whatever, I'm just sayin' if you want more Americans to watch curling you'll need to make it worth wasting a beer on.
*Luge- Now here's a sport we all have regular access to. "Hey Bill, wanna come over and luge with the kids?"? What's the skill?!?! I say put these fuckers on a circular sled and that's that! At least then we'd all have a shot at making the Olympics or at the very least, we'd have relatability. You give me a guy in a unitard with a helmet and goggles, put him on a plastic yellow disc and send him down a hill at 83 mph?....... I'm watching!
"Look at Sven as he navigates through the 50/50 tunnel at turn number three, look how he holds the black handles with absolute precision. I tell ya folks, nobody does criss-cross-applesause like this guy; he truly exemplifies the meaning of perseverance and...... Uh Oh!!!, it appears Sven's gotten himself into an uncontrollable spin! Backwards is not a position you want to be in heading into "Devil's Curve".
*Freestyle Skiing (Moguls)- This sport gets an "A" for athleticism but I could make it better.
We all get it, you go real fast over bumps keeping your knees together and you then launch a couple of jumps, first one being the lesser in difficulty. Everyone looks the same to me! Yes I can tell the difference in jumps and yes I can see those that are faster than the others but it still needs something.
It needs something that will break up the monotony, something that will instill a little fear and an element of surprise. It needs the country on country heat turned up a bit. I say have random exploding moguls. Think about the excitement! It'll be roulette on snow! In fact, you can let a contestant from another country hold the detonator.
"Let's hear it for USA's Marty Mogul Hunter as he's propelled off jump number one into his patented "Cork-roll-heli-fucker!" This after nearly having his ass cheeks blown across the top of the course. And how about Sweden's own Surgi Yur-gonna-crash'n'burn racing for the finish line, six one hundredths of a second ahead and BOOM,!!! Body parts everywhere!"
In fact, to protect the spectators, you could make it like a Gallagher concert and have the first eight rows under plastic.
Gettin' a little violent for ya?
*Biathlon- Here are three ideas to jump start this painfully boring event.
1.) Allow the spectators to
toss Molotov Cocktails at the contestants.
2.) Fill the course with
Grizzly Bear and Mountain Lion.
3.) For the shooting portion,
use athletes instead of targets! You could pull them from the countries that
haven't won any medals yet. Let's Hunger
Games this shit up! Talk about
incentive.......
*4-Man Bob Sled-This sport, and I use that term loosely, needs a total makeover. First thing I would do is widen the course. I want to see all of the overgrown adolescents, and their sleds, going at once.
Speaking of sleds, let's do away with the enclosed rocket-like luxury capsules and put these chromosomal degenerates on an old time rutter job; you know, the kind you steer with your feet. I firmly believe open air sleds will make for better wrecks.
And for this next change I took into consideration how horrible I feel for the three dudes behind the driver. I mean not only for the fact that they've never seen the courses that they risk their lives on but for the fact that the barrel bellied monsters up front get all of the recognition. So it's all heads up from now on; no helmets either.
In fact, let's give these other three creatures more responsibility; I mean other than hooting, hollering, spitting and slapping high fives.
I think Cro Magnon number two and three should be armed with spears to throw at the other contestants. Then, you can give behemoth number four, the anchor man, a steering wheel just like the pilot. We'll make the sleds really long so they can co steer just like a hook and ladder fire truck. That should make the sharp turns more interesting.
Now, if all else fails, we could always put a concrete wall at the finish line and change the name to the "4 Man Crash Test".
*Speed Skating (Long Track)- This one is simple really, put it to corny music and throw in a limbo stick.
*Speed Skating (Short Track)- This sport is already pretty intense (kinda resembles an overly active beehive after being hit with a rock) so I had to think long and hard here. With the track being so short my first choice was something resembling the obvious, like Roller Derby, then it hit me.......... Hurdles!
*4-Man Bob Sled-This sport, and I use that term loosely, needs a total makeover. First thing I would do is widen the course. I want to see all of the overgrown adolescents, and their sleds, going at once.
Speaking of sleds, let's do away with the enclosed rocket-like luxury capsules and put these chromosomal degenerates on an old time rutter job; you know, the kind you steer with your feet. I firmly believe open air sleds will make for better wrecks.
And for this next change I took into consideration how horrible I feel for the three dudes behind the driver. I mean not only for the fact that they've never seen the courses that they risk their lives on but for the fact that the barrel bellied monsters up front get all of the recognition. So it's all heads up from now on; no helmets either.
In fact, let's give these other three creatures more responsibility; I mean other than hooting, hollering, spitting and slapping high fives.
I think Cro Magnon number two and three should be armed with spears to throw at the other contestants. Then, you can give behemoth number four, the anchor man, a steering wheel just like the pilot. We'll make the sleds really long so they can co steer just like a hook and ladder fire truck. That should make the sharp turns more interesting.
Now, if all else fails, we could always put a concrete wall at the finish line and change the name to the "4 Man Crash Test".
*Speed Skating (Long Track)- This one is simple really, put it to corny music and throw in a limbo stick.
*Speed Skating (Short Track)- This sport is already pretty intense (kinda resembles an overly active beehive after being hit with a rock) so I had to think long and hard here. With the track being so short my first choice was something resembling the obvious, like Roller Derby, then it hit me.......... Hurdles!
*Downhill Skiing- Sure it's
fast! Sure it's plenty modernized! But outside of the occasional 85mph,
flat-spin cart-wheel, it all looks the same to me. Like the freestyle skiing I'm going to need
something to break up the monotony. First,
do away with the little ski-hut and starting gate. Too dainty!
I want these guys propelled from the starting line by a sling shot. I'd also like to see the contestants dressed
up like medieval Nintendo game characters.
I want them armed as well. And
while we're at it place a princess in a tower, at the finish line, protected by
a moat filled with Nile Crocs and bull frogs. And forget the one at a time crap; let's send
all of these thrill seeking X-junkies down the hill at once! I can think of nothing more exciting than 2.5
minutes of pure chaotic adrenaline all in the name of chivalry! Still not enough? We could always afford each country the right
to one air-strike. Hmm.... Perhaps the course could be lined with
trebuchets and fire balls.
(long inhale)
And last, but not least....
*Cross Country Skiing- I Say again... C R O S S C O U N T R Y S K' Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z ........ I think I'd rather watch footage on the mating rituals of the Serengeti Wool Moth. Nevertheless, here is what I came up with, that is guaranteed to increase viewership, for this excruciatingly hard to watch event. Just after the contestants leave the starting gate, have them set on fire.
*Cross Country Skiing- I Say again... C R O S S C O U N T R Y S K' Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z ........ I think I'd rather watch footage on the mating rituals of the Serengeti Wool Moth. Nevertheless, here is what I came up with, that is guaranteed to increase viewership, for this excruciatingly hard to watch event. Just after the contestants leave the starting gate, have them set on fire.
Now, as if that wasn't
enough, I would like to present to you another list. Yes, another list......... This is a list of the events that are not yet
recognized as Olympic Games, but if I get my way, they will one day be. You tell me if you think these wouldn't be
fun to watch.
In no particular order, they are:
*200 Meter Snowshoe Dash
(I can't help it; I've always wanted to know who the fastest man, in snow shoes, alive is)
*Democrats and Republicans on Very Thin Ice
*Couples Ice Tap Dancing
In no particular order, they are:
*200 Meter Snowshoe Dash
(I can't help it; I've always wanted to know who the fastest man, in snow shoes, alive is)
*Democrats and Republicans on Very Thin Ice
*Couples Ice Tap Dancing
*Couples Ice DIRTY Dancing
(Nobody puts Svetlana in the corner)
(Nobody puts Svetlana in the corner)
*Snowball Fights to the End
*Penguin Punting
*Snowboarders Vs Skiers
(with weapons)
*Penguin Punting
*Snowboarders Vs Skiers
(with weapons)
*Neighborhood-Assholes, With-Their-Four-Wheel-Drives-in-the-Snow, Derby
*Seal Costume Water Polo in Open Waters
Well there you have it! Those are my ideas to intensify, if not
revolutionize, the winter Olympic games.
Now, with some luck, and a whole lot of perseverance, we could see these
upgraded, and or brand new, events implemented for the 2018 games. Thoughts?
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
The Low Road Part II (A Very Random Sequel)
So I've done it again! I was right in the middle of writing something, a piece I was SURE was going to change the world, when it happened; my thoughts went rogue.
I want you to picture the scene; my mind littered with unbridled idea-fledglings, flailing about the open plains of imagination, without a care in the world; my thoughts, moments ago pure and purposeful, now an elementary school breeding ground for heathenisitc adolescents.
Where are their parents??? I'll tell you where they are, they're off to the side, hell-bent-over at the neck, permanently entranced in their "i-getaways". Forget it! I'm left to corral these little thought bastards all on my own.
Here's the funny thing though; being of Jewish descent I'm really not much on corralling, and I'm certainly not good with a lasso. (I do however look stunning in chaps and a vest) Honestly?... I mean how many Jews do YOU know who are willing to mill about the open plains, imaginary or not, especially when there's not a carry-out in sight?
So I ask you; what's a Hebrew, rogue-thought rancher, to do? Does he wine and cry about it or does he buckle down, saddle up, and head out to wrangle up some misguided fluff, all to distribute to the open minded as some would-be giggle fodder?
Confused? Fear not, as this is all just my way of saying that what you are about to read is not a multi page essay based on events that took place in my life but simply a gathering of things that I've wondered about from time to time.
This project will not be taking a peek into my past, nor will it be a self inflicted wound covered in a antibacterial coated, self adhesive, word-aid. This will simply be a collection of thought fragments, things that stir my pot, if you will; a look into the antagonistic images that poke at my brain with a nah-nanny-boo-boo approach all the while attempting to steal away the outlines to, what may or may not be, my literary masterpieces.
Be warned though, as for these next few minutes you will be asked to go on a tour for the ages, a stroll down aimless lane, all the while ingesting a plethora of nonsensical issues ranging from things I want to see, to things that creep me out, and everything in between, like, things you probably will NEVER see, most of which, if not all, are COMPLETELY and UTTERLY plot less.
Things like:
-Isn't it great knowing there are always at least three french fries waiting at the bottom of the bag?
and...
-Is it me or is watching the older generation dial out on a flip cell-phone kind of like watching a caveman and his magic index finger after he's found something "p r e e e t t y y y y y y"?
-How about the quick sigh of relief you feel when you realize it was just air that came out during that unexpected, albeit violent, sneeze/fart?
-I ask you; Is there a 90 year old out there with pretty feet?
-What about The funny way 80's throw-back-tough-guy rockers walk on the beach while wearing tight jeans and Reebok high tops?
-Now picture those same rockers after they've pulled their jeans up over their knees having revealed their pasty skin and bony feet
-And how about the obnoxious way, obnoxious men, chew their gum. Oy!
-Just once I'd like to see a jogger in the fast lane of 695
-I try my very best to get through a grocery self-checkout session without setting off that god awful blinking help-light!
-Why do old men shake the handful of peanuts before popping one in their mouth?
-Wouldn't it be great if they made humans wear those after surgery pet head-cones?
-Midgets in cowboy hats?
-Midgets in cowboy BOOTS?
-Do you feel demoralized after eating seven or eight of the "100 calorie packs"?
-Where are the Wii SEX games?
-How come I always struggle to find the pitch when I'm singing happy birthday amongst strangers?
-If given the choice, when asked to play board games, I'll take death
-Don't ya hate that little burst of embarrassment when a small crowd has gathered just as you try and separate two shopping carts in failure?
-Even I think Adam Levine is hot
-I passionately hate people who text while driving! (I totally pay attention when I do it)
-People with really narrow tall heads scare me
-Are people who butt in while you're talking, the ones who completely change the subject, aware that they are assholes?
-How is it even possible to bite the underside of your tongue?
-And how about that subtle "here we go" feeling you get when the doctor says, "OK, why don't you go ahead and take your pants down now"
-Why can't close-talkers have good breath?
-Maybe YOU do, but I really don't give a shit at all that Pat and Vanna have done the show while drunk
-I'd like to find out where the Mayans went wrong
-I can't watch a couple perform breath taking ballet without zeroing in on the astonishingly huge bulge the male dancer always seems to have
-I'm frightened of people with extremely large eyebrows and tiny eyes
-What happened to baseball pants? When did slacks come in to play?
-I feel a sense of accomplishment when I'm able to slip in and out of a fast food restaurant having only gone in to use the restroom
-What is that random high pitch frequency you get in your ear every now and again? No one else ever hears mine. Do we all have our own?
-People who allow their feet to hang way over the front end of their sandals are creepy
-Guys? the toothpick in public does not make you cool
-How come when I look in the rear view mirror I always find a one inch long rebel nose hair who refuses to be yanked or reinserted?
-Why do really old men drive with their mouths wide open?
-I'm also scared of people with cro-magnon-sized foreheads and no chin
-I have no place for people who struggle with reading my body language, especially when it's obviously saying to them: "I could not care LESS about this story so would you PLEASE shut the fuck up!!!"
-I'm a bit uneasy when it comes to that creepy little bit of excitement in the voice of the guy who narrates "When vacations or animals attack"
-How come every time I try to deliver a really good nose blow my tongue has to clog up the works?
-Bet you've never seen two old men at the park playing Pokémon
-I'm sorry but I just don't buy it when the dude with "Born to Kill and Eat Minorities" tattooed on his forehead hands me my #4 value meal and then says, "my pleasure".
-I'd like to think that somewhere two very old black men are holding hands while roller skating
-Enough with the gecko! It's stupid!
-Just once I'd like to see an orthodox Jew driving a Ford F-350 super duty
-Naked-Twister-Tuesday at the nursing home... why not?
-How odd would it be to see a man with no toes running in flip flops?
-You never hear about someone amputated from the knee UP
-I think it would take balls to hire a hotel lobby pianist who has turrets and yells "FUCK STICK" every time he strikes middle C
OK, purged! Can I get back to my essay now, please? Jeesh!
I want you to picture the scene; my mind littered with unbridled idea-fledglings, flailing about the open plains of imagination, without a care in the world; my thoughts, moments ago pure and purposeful, now an elementary school breeding ground for heathenisitc adolescents.
Where are their parents??? I'll tell you where they are, they're off to the side, hell-bent-over at the neck, permanently entranced in their "i-getaways". Forget it! I'm left to corral these little thought bastards all on my own.
Here's the funny thing though; being of Jewish descent I'm really not much on corralling, and I'm certainly not good with a lasso. (I do however look stunning in chaps and a vest) Honestly?... I mean how many Jews do YOU know who are willing to mill about the open plains, imaginary or not, especially when there's not a carry-out in sight?
So I ask you; what's a Hebrew, rogue-thought rancher, to do? Does he wine and cry about it or does he buckle down, saddle up, and head out to wrangle up some misguided fluff, all to distribute to the open minded as some would-be giggle fodder?
Confused? Fear not, as this is all just my way of saying that what you are about to read is not a multi page essay based on events that took place in my life but simply a gathering of things that I've wondered about from time to time.
This project will not be taking a peek into my past, nor will it be a self inflicted wound covered in a antibacterial coated, self adhesive, word-aid. This will simply be a collection of thought fragments, things that stir my pot, if you will; a look into the antagonistic images that poke at my brain with a nah-nanny-boo-boo approach all the while attempting to steal away the outlines to, what may or may not be, my literary masterpieces.
Be warned though, as for these next few minutes you will be asked to go on a tour for the ages, a stroll down aimless lane, all the while ingesting a plethora of nonsensical issues ranging from things I want to see, to things that creep me out, and everything in between, like, things you probably will NEVER see, most of which, if not all, are COMPLETELY and UTTERLY plot less.
Things like:
-Isn't it great knowing there are always at least three french fries waiting at the bottom of the bag?
and...
-Is it me or is watching the older generation dial out on a flip cell-phone kind of like watching a caveman and his magic index finger after he's found something "p r e e e t t y y y y y y"?
-How about the quick sigh of relief you feel when you realize it was just air that came out during that unexpected, albeit violent, sneeze/fart?
-I ask you; Is there a 90 year old out there with pretty feet?
-What about The funny way 80's throw-back-tough-guy rockers walk on the beach while wearing tight jeans and Reebok high tops?
-Now picture those same rockers after they've pulled their jeans up over their knees having revealed their pasty skin and bony feet
-And how about the obnoxious way, obnoxious men, chew their gum. Oy!
-Just once I'd like to see a jogger in the fast lane of 695
-I try my very best to get through a grocery self-checkout session without setting off that god awful blinking help-light!
-Why do old men shake the handful of peanuts before popping one in their mouth?
-Wouldn't it be great if they made humans wear those after surgery pet head-cones?
-Midgets in cowboy hats?
-Midgets in cowboy BOOTS?
-Do you feel demoralized after eating seven or eight of the "100 calorie packs"?
-Where are the Wii SEX games?
-How come I always struggle to find the pitch when I'm singing happy birthday amongst strangers?
-If given the choice, when asked to play board games, I'll take death
-Don't ya hate that little burst of embarrassment when a small crowd has gathered just as you try and separate two shopping carts in failure?
-Even I think Adam Levine is hot
-I passionately hate people who text while driving! (I totally pay attention when I do it)
-People with really narrow tall heads scare me
-Are people who butt in while you're talking, the ones who completely change the subject, aware that they are assholes?
-How is it even possible to bite the underside of your tongue?
-And how about that subtle "here we go" feeling you get when the doctor says, "OK, why don't you go ahead and take your pants down now"
-Why can't close-talkers have good breath?
-Maybe YOU do, but I really don't give a shit at all that Pat and Vanna have done the show while drunk
-I'd like to find out where the Mayans went wrong
-I can't watch a couple perform breath taking ballet without zeroing in on the astonishingly huge bulge the male dancer always seems to have
-I'm frightened of people with extremely large eyebrows and tiny eyes
-What happened to baseball pants? When did slacks come in to play?
-I feel a sense of accomplishment when I'm able to slip in and out of a fast food restaurant having only gone in to use the restroom
-What is that random high pitch frequency you get in your ear every now and again? No one else ever hears mine. Do we all have our own?
-People who allow their feet to hang way over the front end of their sandals are creepy
-Guys? the toothpick in public does not make you cool
-How come when I look in the rear view mirror I always find a one inch long rebel nose hair who refuses to be yanked or reinserted?
-Why do really old men drive with their mouths wide open?
-I'm also scared of people with cro-magnon-sized foreheads and no chin
-I have no place for people who struggle with reading my body language, especially when it's obviously saying to them: "I could not care LESS about this story so would you PLEASE shut the fuck up!!!"
-I'm a bit uneasy when it comes to that creepy little bit of excitement in the voice of the guy who narrates "When vacations or animals attack"
-How come every time I try to deliver a really good nose blow my tongue has to clog up the works?
-Bet you've never seen two old men at the park playing Pokémon
-I'm sorry but I just don't buy it when the dude with "Born to Kill and Eat Minorities" tattooed on his forehead hands me my #4 value meal and then says, "my pleasure".
-I'd like to think that somewhere two very old black men are holding hands while roller skating
-Enough with the gecko! It's stupid!
-Just once I'd like to see an orthodox Jew driving a Ford F-350 super duty
-Naked-Twister-Tuesday at the nursing home... why not?
-How odd would it be to see a man with no toes running in flip flops?
-You never hear about someone amputated from the knee UP
-I think it would take balls to hire a hotel lobby pianist who has turrets and yells "FUCK STICK" every time he strikes middle C
OK, purged! Can I get back to my essay now, please? Jeesh!
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Can I Get Some Ambien?
If there's one thing I've learned, during my many trips to the BJ's
wholesale club, it's that the role of the person who looks over your cart and checks
your receipt, just before you leave the store,
is not taken seriously enough.
After many a sleepless night I've come to the conclusion that the right equipment is not issued for the job. This, I believe, can leave an employee with a feeling of worthlessness that can eventually lead to self doubt; all of which can be detrimental to a patron looking to have an overall glitch-free and SAFE shopping adventure; let alone support the mind set of an entry-level type employee who may or may not be clinging to delusions of advancement.
Me?....I can only imagine how much fun it could be, would be, and should be, to have customers under my control, especially one that may or may not have just gone through a possible self inflicted grueling self-checkout experience.
Simply put; they need to glorify this title, "receipt-checker" handing more power over to the employee, thereby making it the high ranking position it can and should be.
What would I do differently?....First I would rename the position, if it even has a title at all. I would stamp it: "Receipt Perusal Clerk Cart Survey Engineer"; sounds official and will most certainly command attention. Furthermore, I have always found that sheep will respond well to a cloaked shepherd.
Secondly, I would do away with the single act of punching a hole in a receipt and make it so that the customer has to undergo some sort of right-of-passage-to-exit-ritual set before leaving the store; starting with answering a few questions. This alone opens the door to interaction and is a way for the checker, the last line in a store's defense, to lay dominance over the shopper, thereby claiming upper hand.
Now upon completion of, and in addition to, a five point questionnaire, I believe a complimentary shopper eye exam should be administered. And, keeping within the framework of our law enforcement, maybe a field sobriety test as well.
I would also have the shoppers, at random selection of course, move all of the items from their own cart in to another. This will give the checker a bird's eye account of all that was purchased and make all others think twice before trying to conceal a twelve hundred pound bag of potatoes under a vacuum fresh side of beef.
I'd then leave it to my checker's discretion as to whether or not a customer should have to pull off to the side for a random second-tier inspection. I've also entertained the idea of a whipping post; a frisking station is not out of the question either and I've never been one to shy away from the timeless classic that is the full-body-cavity search. After all, you never know where one might be hiding a brightly colored mesh bag that contains 400 navel oranges.
I would issue a uniform! This is critical in the steps to empowerment! My checkers should wear something that stands out, instills fear, and screams HALT! It should be something that commands attention and respect, something resembling that of a HAZMAT worker, complete with helmet and name tag.
They would be asked to carry a clipboard as well, as this screams of professionalism. And I would most certainly have holsters fashioned for every last one of my checkers; holsters that will cradle the antiquated weapon that is the hole punch, something fancy-like, possibly made from denim. And all checkers would be required to wear a badge.
A side arm?...I've toyed with that notion but am still waiting on our state's ruling before placing an AK-47 on the shoulder of one of my receipt-check engineers.
You know what else?....I think fences should be erected. I also think dogs should be brought in, ground forces should be at the ready, and all out border control tactics implemented. I mean, after all, it's pretty dangerous stuff, don't you think?....to stand between a shopper and it's freedom?
Megaphones need to be used! Most definitely! And for extreme cases?...like handling the 'all-business-multi-cart shopper'?...I would ask that a referee's whistle be blown.
And for those times when things are sure to get out of hand, like at Christmas time, I would probably feel the need to pull out all the stops and make it mandatory that all receipt-checker stations are outfitted with sharp shooters, metal detectors and airport glow-batons.
Now, lastly, and this is very important; If we're really going to get serious about store exiting procedures I think it's time to do away those pulsating buzzer alarms that sound if you try and walk out of a store with stolen goods. Honestly, is that approach really supposed to stave off an attack of complete lawlessness, one that will surely land my a receipt-checker in a managers office?
People!.. the reputation, the integrity, and the self esteem of the receipt-checker is at stake here! I say, instead of the nonsense that is the pulsating buzzer, the one that nobody ever reacts to anyway, place a cruise-ship air horn in it's place! I want to stop these fuckers in their tracks; embarrass 'em! And If that proves insufficient I'll take it to the next level! I'll install a spring-loaded-jungle-tree-branch-swing-arm-medieval-death-apparatus with spikes! If the horn blast won't stop 'em, the blow to the chest will!
Again, gaining respect by placing power with the employee, and putting an end to careless store exiting, is what we're after here! I want embarrassment and public humiliation! I want it so that these parasites have no chance when it comes to cheating, poking fun of, and in essence, diminishing the role of, the "Receipt Perusal Clerk Cart Survey Engineer"!
(long inhale)
After many a sleepless night I've come to the conclusion that the right equipment is not issued for the job. This, I believe, can leave an employee with a feeling of worthlessness that can eventually lead to self doubt; all of which can be detrimental to a patron looking to have an overall glitch-free and SAFE shopping adventure; let alone support the mind set of an entry-level type employee who may or may not be clinging to delusions of advancement.
Me?....I can only imagine how much fun it could be, would be, and should be, to have customers under my control, especially one that may or may not have just gone through a possible self inflicted grueling self-checkout experience.
Simply put; they need to glorify this title, "receipt-checker" handing more power over to the employee, thereby making it the high ranking position it can and should be.
What would I do differently?....First I would rename the position, if it even has a title at all. I would stamp it: "Receipt Perusal Clerk Cart Survey Engineer"; sounds official and will most certainly command attention. Furthermore, I have always found that sheep will respond well to a cloaked shepherd.
Secondly, I would do away with the single act of punching a hole in a receipt and make it so that the customer has to undergo some sort of right-of-passage-to-exit-ritual set before leaving the store; starting with answering a few questions. This alone opens the door to interaction and is a way for the checker, the last line in a store's defense, to lay dominance over the shopper, thereby claiming upper hand.
Now upon completion of, and in addition to, a five point questionnaire, I believe a complimentary shopper eye exam should be administered. And, keeping within the framework of our law enforcement, maybe a field sobriety test as well.
I would also have the shoppers, at random selection of course, move all of the items from their own cart in to another. This will give the checker a bird's eye account of all that was purchased and make all others think twice before trying to conceal a twelve hundred pound bag of potatoes under a vacuum fresh side of beef.
I'd then leave it to my checker's discretion as to whether or not a customer should have to pull off to the side for a random second-tier inspection. I've also entertained the idea of a whipping post; a frisking station is not out of the question either and I've never been one to shy away from the timeless classic that is the full-body-cavity search. After all, you never know where one might be hiding a brightly colored mesh bag that contains 400 navel oranges.
I would issue a uniform! This is critical in the steps to empowerment! My checkers should wear something that stands out, instills fear, and screams HALT! It should be something that commands attention and respect, something resembling that of a HAZMAT worker, complete with helmet and name tag.
They would be asked to carry a clipboard as well, as this screams of professionalism. And I would most certainly have holsters fashioned for every last one of my checkers; holsters that will cradle the antiquated weapon that is the hole punch, something fancy-like, possibly made from denim. And all checkers would be required to wear a badge.
A side arm?...I've toyed with that notion but am still waiting on our state's ruling before placing an AK-47 on the shoulder of one of my receipt-check engineers.
You know what else?....I think fences should be erected. I also think dogs should be brought in, ground forces should be at the ready, and all out border control tactics implemented. I mean, after all, it's pretty dangerous stuff, don't you think?....to stand between a shopper and it's freedom?
Megaphones need to be used! Most definitely! And for extreme cases?...like handling the 'all-business-multi-cart shopper'?...I would ask that a referee's whistle be blown.
And for those times when things are sure to get out of hand, like at Christmas time, I would probably feel the need to pull out all the stops and make it mandatory that all receipt-checker stations are outfitted with sharp shooters, metal detectors and airport glow-batons.
Now, lastly, and this is very important; If we're really going to get serious about store exiting procedures I think it's time to do away those pulsating buzzer alarms that sound if you try and walk out of a store with stolen goods. Honestly, is that approach really supposed to stave off an attack of complete lawlessness, one that will surely land my a receipt-checker in a managers office?
People!.. the reputation, the integrity, and the self esteem of the receipt-checker is at stake here! I say, instead of the nonsense that is the pulsating buzzer, the one that nobody ever reacts to anyway, place a cruise-ship air horn in it's place! I want to stop these fuckers in their tracks; embarrass 'em! And If that proves insufficient I'll take it to the next level! I'll install a spring-loaded-jungle-tree-branch-swing-arm-medieval-death-apparatus with spikes! If the horn blast won't stop 'em, the blow to the chest will!
Again, gaining respect by placing power with the employee, and putting an end to careless store exiting, is what we're after here! I want embarrassment and public humiliation! I want it so that these parasites have no chance when it comes to cheating, poking fun of, and in essence, diminishing the role of, the "Receipt Perusal Clerk Cart Survey Engineer"!
(long inhale)
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Break Free the Cozy Chains
To sit
To admire
To yearn
To pray
To bridge the gap that tethers the difference
Born is the insurmountable task at hand
It taunts
It feeds
It seduces
It empowers
Doors are opened and you may now enter
The risk is yours; the reward a mystery
Call on the power, for the gap 'an illusion
Stand strong the passion; for the illusion the reward
The peace lay in the truth you've feared
To admire
To yearn
To pray
To bridge the gap that tethers the difference
Born is the insurmountable task at hand
It taunts
It feeds
It seduces
It empowers
Doors are opened and you may now enter
The risk is yours; the reward a mystery
Call on the power, for the gap 'an illusion
Stand strong the passion; for the illusion the reward
The peace lay in the truth you've feared
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Man, It's a Long Way Down
Hello Hello Hello? Echo Echo Echo???
There I stand, toes on the ledge, teetering at the canyon Uncertainty. I'm shivering with raw emotion while reaching out to opportunities still a blur.
I take in it's vastness. And with a breath of determination, as old in spirit as the winds themselves, I can taste it. I exhale it back, for serenity is tart on the sweetened bud, only to choke on it's returning gust.
I call to excitement as I am nervous; for at thirty nine I'm allowed to be. I'm also scared; scared as the father of two should be. And I'm ashamed; ashamed as only a husband can be.
I want to jump. What lay beneath the shallow cloud?
There I stand, toes on the ledge, teetering at the canyon Uncertainty. I'm shivering with raw emotion while reaching out to opportunities still a blur.
I take in it's vastness. And with a breath of determination, as old in spirit as the winds themselves, I can taste it. I exhale it back, for serenity is tart on the sweetened bud, only to choke on it's returning gust.
I call to excitement as I am nervous; for at thirty nine I'm allowed to be. I'm also scared; scared as the father of two should be. And I'm ashamed; ashamed as only a husband can be.
I want to jump. What lay beneath the shallow cloud?
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Sunny and Seventy Five
As I opened the door and stepped outside a warmth I had not felt all day, let alone all winter, washed over me. With the excitement of a seasonal gift leading the way I stood there for a few seconds.
I closed my eyes and I was twelve. I was throwing a ball to my father. The pool we were next to beckoned with a thousand sparkles, miniature explosions of light that danced on the surface.
I opened my eyes and I was thirty nine. I was tired, scared and beaten from a days work, yet somehow, driven. Could it be, was it warm enough? I knew it was.
And With a deep breath I shelved my memory and headed for the car. Now with an extra pep in my step and anticipation billowing, I giggled. After all, the first one of the year was only a few feet away!
I picked up the pace and in the time it took to cross the parking lot and grab for my keys, the day's woes were forgotten.
I quickly got in and shut the door. I then threw my arm load onto the passenger seat, laid my head back, inhaled the heated fabric and allowed it to happen.
The pressure on my face was welcomed and before long.... they arrived. They started on my neck, just as they always do and they waisted no time spilling over my shoulders. They ran down my upper arms like a gentle breeze causing my hair to stand up and they didn't stop until they reached the tops of my hands.
The second wave started with an exhale release as they spread down along my spine. With the touch of finger nails moving along my skin they caused my muscles to flinch. From there they fanned out to my sides and around towards my stomach, igniting a shiver burst that shook me from neck to waist. And with one last explosion they spread out past my shoulder blades and just like that, the chills were gone.
A sigh of relief then punctured my lips as I melted into the seat. A smile eased it's way onto my face and I knew; Mother nature's hot car massage had done it again.
I closed my eyes and I was twelve. I was throwing a ball to my father. The pool we were next to beckoned with a thousand sparkles, miniature explosions of light that danced on the surface.
I opened my eyes and I was thirty nine. I was tired, scared and beaten from a days work, yet somehow, driven. Could it be, was it warm enough? I knew it was.
And With a deep breath I shelved my memory and headed for the car. Now with an extra pep in my step and anticipation billowing, I giggled. After all, the first one of the year was only a few feet away!
I picked up the pace and in the time it took to cross the parking lot and grab for my keys, the day's woes were forgotten.
I quickly got in and shut the door. I then threw my arm load onto the passenger seat, laid my head back, inhaled the heated fabric and allowed it to happen.
The pressure on my face was welcomed and before long.... they arrived. They started on my neck, just as they always do and they waisted no time spilling over my shoulders. They ran down my upper arms like a gentle breeze causing my hair to stand up and they didn't stop until they reached the tops of my hands.
The second wave started with an exhale release as they spread down along my spine. With the touch of finger nails moving along my skin they caused my muscles to flinch. From there they fanned out to my sides and around towards my stomach, igniting a shiver burst that shook me from neck to waist. And with one last explosion they spread out past my shoulder blades and just like that, the chills were gone.
A sigh of relief then punctured my lips as I melted into the seat. A smile eased it's way onto my face and I knew; Mother nature's hot car massage had done it again.
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