Last week, I did something that I haven't done in 10 years...I was an extra in a movie! It was in the Ron Howard movie called "What You Don't Know", with Vince Vaughn, Kevin James, Jennifer Connolly and Winona Rider, and the scenes were filmed at the United Center in Chicago for three days. (Me & Mrs. Idiot have a standing date for the Jan. 15, 2011 premiere).
To answer the immediate questions - "No", I did not meet any of the stars up close and personal, and "No" you probably won't see me if you don't know where to look in the crowd shots. But, if you are like me and enjoy some quality people-watching, this is something you need to try.
Rivaled only by Karaoke Night in downtown mid-Illinois anywhere, the extras character ensemble made it seem like I had invaded a field trip from the DMV. Some scrubs were under the impression that this would be their big break, and that they would be "discovered" amongst the 1000+ extras in their first step towards Oscar gold. (That bar may have been set a bit too high).
However, I was lucky enough to find Cathie and Eric, a couple of equally-sarcastic space-fillers who were also along just for the experience. Together, we formed our own little alliance, hell-bent on making our own fun (and, as we were together for roughly 36 hours, we surmised that there was really little else to do).
We got to meet and talk to many different people, as we were shuffled from section to section in order to film large crown shots, striking up fun and interesting conversations along the way. For our own reference and for reasons obvious to us, we saw and renamed Mohawk, Blind Side, 'Stash, Blond Morticia, and Paris-Hilton-at-50, just to name a few. And, amidst all the section-changing and parading around the UC, we three were all, at one time or another, subjected to the trials and tribulations of "Face Time".
Without prompting and with disregard for the obvious disinterest of rows of fellow extras, Face Time (along with sidecar and sounding board "Morocco Mole") could not believe that she was not getting filmed for close-ups on camera, as she had recently spent days being filmed for her role in another film. Her self-admitted "Diva Complex" was taking a major hit, and my guess is that 765 extras knew about it, but Face Time didn't stop long enough to catch anyone's name. It had not dawned on Face Time that maybe the camera needed a break. (I did not know that there was a remake of "Throw Momma from the Train", but I'm glad they found their female lead).
Now, I'm not perfect by any stretch, but I have enough social skills to realize that if people were actually moving away from me to secure a seat outside of the sound of my voice, then I might need to re-think my presentation to society or my conversational topic. Lucky for me, Cathie, Eric and I all practiced reasonable hygiene and gave details of our lives only when asked, and actually listened to each other's responses. That may be why I sought them out each day.
Today's lessons:
- Try and make the most of an unpleasant situation, and make your own fun. If you're lucky enough to find people to share in your fun, then you can consider the experience a win.
- When going out in public, please note that combs and deodorant are NOT optional. Please corral that Hairodactyl into a hat or ponytail and lop on a little pit powder for the sake of your fellow humans.
- If you can't make your own fun, then please, for the love of humanity, focus your complaints to those who can help, not just those who are close. Bitching for the sake of bitching adds nothing, and certainly can't help in the pursuit of more Face Time.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Schoolyard or NBA? This week it's hard to tell.
I was recently asked via Facebook if I was going to comment on the "LeBron James Decision". As I have no real interest in the NBA, the whole thing seemed like a huge ego-stroke to me, so I decided to wait until the REAL circus began.
The events that have unfolded since the July 8th "Look-At-Me-fest" run similar to the kid in the schoolyard who changes kickball teams to play with his friends, prompting the Captain of the team to say mean things about him, prompting a self-proclaimed leader and teacher to call the Captain names, until the Principal has to step in and scold everyone involved.
This little One Act play stars Lebron James as the kid, Cavaliers owner Dan Gilbert as the Captain, Jesse Jackson as the teacher and NBA Commissioner David Stern as the Principal.
It amazes me how grown men - leaders in their professions and their communities - can't seem to grasp the simplest of life lessons..."Think before you speak!" And, LeBron and Dan, even if you can't get your self-absorbed minds around this concept, please spend some of the millions of dollars that you have accumulated over the years and employ a publicist, or marketer or communications guru to help you craft your message instead of flying like a blind moth into the seductive light of the camera.
As for Jesse...well, you have proven yet again that you are willing to trade any subject-matter knowledge for some face time. Not everything is a case of the white man keeping the black man down, as I don't think that a comparison of a multi-million dollar athlete to a slave holds any merit. How about sticking to the pursuit of civil rights and social justice on which your Rainbow Coalition was founded? You can start in the predominantly black Chicago neighborhood of Englewood, where gang members routinely shoot at anyone on the street, including police officers.
Unless you think that LeBron's millions are more important...
The events that have unfolded since the July 8th "Look-At-Me-fest" run similar to the kid in the schoolyard who changes kickball teams to play with his friends, prompting the Captain of the team to say mean things about him, prompting a self-proclaimed leader and teacher to call the Captain names, until the Principal has to step in and scold everyone involved.
This little One Act play stars Lebron James as the kid, Cavaliers owner Dan Gilbert as the Captain, Jesse Jackson as the teacher and NBA Commissioner David Stern as the Principal.
It amazes me how grown men - leaders in their professions and their communities - can't seem to grasp the simplest of life lessons..."Think before you speak!" And, LeBron and Dan, even if you can't get your self-absorbed minds around this concept, please spend some of the millions of dollars that you have accumulated over the years and employ a publicist, or marketer or communications guru to help you craft your message instead of flying like a blind moth into the seductive light of the camera.
As for Jesse...well, you have proven yet again that you are willing to trade any subject-matter knowledge for some face time. Not everything is a case of the white man keeping the black man down, as I don't think that a comparison of a multi-million dollar athlete to a slave holds any merit. How about sticking to the pursuit of civil rights and social justice on which your Rainbow Coalition was founded? You can start in the predominantly black Chicago neighborhood of Englewood, where gang members routinely shoot at anyone on the street, including police officers.
Unless you think that LeBron's millions are more important...
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Japanese attack on...Coney Island?
I am coming off a traditional 4th of July celebration - spending time with friends, enjoying a lakefront fireworks display, watching an ambulance cart away one of the neighborhood gang bangers who finally injured himself using home-launched fireworks after three days worth of trying.
But there is one "tradition" that I just can't embrace - The Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest.
When did watching 20 people gorge themselves on hot dogs become part of the national celebration of our independence? A closer examination of the 2010 edition of this train wreck shows exactly why this event is symbolic of the American tradition...
- The winner downed 54 hot dogs in 10 minutes, in front of hundreds of thousands of cheering spectators. (It seems a little easier to figure out why the rest of the world would see Americans as self/over-indulgent and gluttonous).
- Former champion Takeru Kobayashi was present but did not compete, as he refused to sign a contract with Major League Eating. (It's not only disturbing that there is a group formed to regulate this and other "competitive eating" events, but there is actually enough demand to see people stuff themselves that prize money is involved. Just another way to live the American dream...if you can get through all the red tape).
- Kobayashi was arrested when he tried to force his way onto the stage during the awards ceremony. One of the charges was obstructing governmental administration. (THIS is where governmental administration is focused? How about that pesky little oil spill or appropriating stimulus funds correctly or maybe the investigation and/or deterrence of such things as murder, rape, assault, robbery? I, for one, feel better knowing that New York's Finest were deployed to help protect the tube steak chuggers from the 128-pound menace storming the eating stage).
- And of course, there was trash-talking. Winner Joey Chestnut said that Kobayashi would have competed "if he were a real man". (I may have not been paying attention that day, but I can't remember when shoving-enough-food-to-feed-four-rows-of-people-at-Yankee-Stadium-down-your-throat-in-10-minutes was outlined in the "Real Man" definition. If that's your definition Joey, thanks for not dating my sisters).
Unfortunately, I guess that these points, on some level, outline American life in 2010, so maybe this explains why this event has become a part of the true American Independence Day celebration. I just hope that for 2011, somebody might realize that the hot dogs prepared by Nathan's, instead of being sacrificed for prize money, might be better served to those who are homeless and unsure of their next meal.
But there is one "tradition" that I just can't embrace - The Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest.
When did watching 20 people gorge themselves on hot dogs become part of the national celebration of our independence? A closer examination of the 2010 edition of this train wreck shows exactly why this event is symbolic of the American tradition...
- The winner downed 54 hot dogs in 10 minutes, in front of hundreds of thousands of cheering spectators. (It seems a little easier to figure out why the rest of the world would see Americans as self/over-indulgent and gluttonous).
- Former champion Takeru Kobayashi was present but did not compete, as he refused to sign a contract with Major League Eating. (It's not only disturbing that there is a group formed to regulate this and other "competitive eating" events, but there is actually enough demand to see people stuff themselves that prize money is involved. Just another way to live the American dream...if you can get through all the red tape).
- Kobayashi was arrested when he tried to force his way onto the stage during the awards ceremony. One of the charges was obstructing governmental administration. (THIS is where governmental administration is focused? How about that pesky little oil spill or appropriating stimulus funds correctly or maybe the investigation and/or deterrence of such things as murder, rape, assault, robbery? I, for one, feel better knowing that New York's Finest were deployed to help protect the tube steak chuggers from the 128-pound menace storming the eating stage).
- And of course, there was trash-talking. Winner Joey Chestnut said that Kobayashi would have competed "if he were a real man". (I may have not been paying attention that day, but I can't remember when shoving-enough-food-to-feed-four-rows-of-people-at-Yankee-Stadium-down-your-throat-in-10-minutes was outlined in the "Real Man" definition. If that's your definition Joey, thanks for not dating my sisters).
Unfortunately, I guess that these points, on some level, outline American life in 2010, so maybe this explains why this event has become a part of the true American Independence Day celebration. I just hope that for 2011, somebody might realize that the hot dogs prepared by Nathan's, instead of being sacrificed for prize money, might be better served to those who are homeless and unsure of their next meal.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
History has been made...
I have never been much of a tennis fan, but I can certainly appreciate the conditioning and athleticism that is necessary to play. Even though some of the scoring system seems strange to me (why, in a game, do you go from zero ('love') to 15, to 30, to 40 and then win, instead of 1,2,3,4?), I understand that one must win a game by two points. One must win six games (also by 2) to win a set, and three out of five sets to win the match. If a set is tied at six, there is a tiebreaker to see who wins.
Except in the final set at Wimbledon, where players can keep playing until someone wins by two. Such is currently the case...
John Isner and Nicolas Mahut were tied at two sets each Tuesday, when play was suspended by darkness. So, they returned Wednesday to finish the last set. 7 hours and 6 minutes later, play was suspended again, WITH NO WINNER. Tied 59-59!!!
To watch this is truly mesmerising - a final SET alone that broke the record for the longest MATCH in tennis history (the entire match time is over 10 hours)!!! All kinds of other records were broken as well - too many to mention here. And I can honestly say that I can't wait to tune into ESPN to watch this tomorrow to see how it all turns out.
But try to think of JUST STANDING continuously for over 7 hours, with only periodic 1-minute breaks ever 10-15 minutes. Halfway through I would need a nap. Or to go to the bathroom. Or to eat.
If you have a chance to watch the ending (hopefully) Thursday, try to do so - or at least read about it in depth somewhere. You see, neither of these guys will win Wimbledon this year, as one has to eventually lose THIS match and the winner would exceed expectations just by waking up in time for the next match. But, the heart and perseverance that each has shown the past two days should serve as an example to everyone about determination and will and about never giving up.
We all have our favorite players or favorite teams that we root for. And even though I believe that athletes should not be role models, I am willing to amend that thought, as these two men are the exception. Because on top of the marathon match, the records, and all the physical drain, both have been complete sportsmen - no chest-thumping or trash-talking, just two guys giving it their all, with respect for the opponent.
For that reason most of all, this will go down a palatable example of the old adage...its not whether you win or lose, it's how you play the game.
Except in the final set at Wimbledon, where players can keep playing until someone wins by two. Such is currently the case...
John Isner and Nicolas Mahut were tied at two sets each Tuesday, when play was suspended by darkness. So, they returned Wednesday to finish the last set. 7 hours and 6 minutes later, play was suspended again, WITH NO WINNER. Tied 59-59!!!
To watch this is truly mesmerising - a final SET alone that broke the record for the longest MATCH in tennis history (the entire match time is over 10 hours)!!! All kinds of other records were broken as well - too many to mention here. And I can honestly say that I can't wait to tune into ESPN to watch this tomorrow to see how it all turns out.
But try to think of JUST STANDING continuously for over 7 hours, with only periodic 1-minute breaks ever 10-15 minutes. Halfway through I would need a nap. Or to go to the bathroom. Or to eat.
If you have a chance to watch the ending (hopefully) Thursday, try to do so - or at least read about it in depth somewhere. You see, neither of these guys will win Wimbledon this year, as one has to eventually lose THIS match and the winner would exceed expectations just by waking up in time for the next match. But, the heart and perseverance that each has shown the past two days should serve as an example to everyone about determination and will and about never giving up.
We all have our favorite players or favorite teams that we root for. And even though I believe that athletes should not be role models, I am willing to amend that thought, as these two men are the exception. Because on top of the marathon match, the records, and all the physical drain, both have been complete sportsmen - no chest-thumping or trash-talking, just two guys giving it their all, with respect for the opponent.
For that reason most of all, this will go down a palatable example of the old adage...its not whether you win or lose, it's how you play the game.
Friday, June 18, 2010
I'm trying to get on board, but...
(Before I begin, I apologize for the month-long hiatus, and thank you to all of you who have requested the blog revival).
The every-other-day adrenaline rushes provided by the Blackhawks are but memories now, so I find myself searching for something to satisfy my sports jones. I've tried the Sox and Cubs, but both are mired in mediocrity and the pace of the game (compared to the hockey I am used to) can be generously described as laborious.
So, I decided to try something new to me...World Cup Soccer.
I had previously dismissed the sport as boring, knowing that most games have very few goals and that ties are acceptable and commonplace. But after watching a few matches, I have a new appreciation for this event.
The World Cup seems to parallel the Olympics, as most players take a break from playing for their professional teams and are united in playing for their country once every four years. And the enthusiasm of the fans supporting their countries is undeniably frenzied and inspirational. But there are a couple of characteristics that don't make sense to me...
First of all, the drama and over-acting that is on display during any given match is more than you would find on "The Jersey Shore" and "The Real Housewives of Orange County" combined. I mean really...the flailing and grimacing that occurs nearly every time someone falls to the ground is embarrassing. Lose seven teeth during the course of the game and then come back and play in the same game, and then you might be able to complain a little about the guy that pushed you down or kicked you in your padded shin guard. Play the game, prima donnas.
Also, I think that some of these guys have taken a few too many off the noggin. I mean, I like to watch the players trash-talk and complain to the refs. My amusement comes from knowing that German players more than likely don't understand what Serbian players are saying, and both can complain all they want to the Spanish ref, who doesn't understand either of them. My experience is that trash-talk and complaining work best when the message can be understood by the recipient, but these guys don't seem to care. It doesn't matter to me, as I just watch and give my own narrative, a la "Mystery Science Theater 3000".
But as much as I may want to try and embrace this event, the annoying buzzing of vuvuzelas makes watching difficult. Vuvuzelas are the plastic horns that are blown for the duration of the game by the fans, making it sound like a bee attack. How do they do that for 90 minutes straight? Worse yet, I have begun to hear these around the neighborhood. The pain and discomfort that these annoyances bring to the broadcast are similar to the vocal stylings provided by Hawk Harrelson during Sox games. So, I'll watch both with the sound off.
Let it be known that I have tried something new, but I just don't think that I'll become a follower. There's only so much audible pain that a man can take. I'll just catch a live baseball game or two, wait patiently for the football/hockey season to start again and hope that I don't run across someone blowing a vuvuzela out on the street.
If I do, I may be forced to turn it into a sitting pogo stick for them, and then have to endure complaining in a language I don't understand.
The every-other-day adrenaline rushes provided by the Blackhawks are but memories now, so I find myself searching for something to satisfy my sports jones. I've tried the Sox and Cubs, but both are mired in mediocrity and the pace of the game (compared to the hockey I am used to) can be generously described as laborious.
So, I decided to try something new to me...World Cup Soccer.
I had previously dismissed the sport as boring, knowing that most games have very few goals and that ties are acceptable and commonplace. But after watching a few matches, I have a new appreciation for this event.
The World Cup seems to parallel the Olympics, as most players take a break from playing for their professional teams and are united in playing for their country once every four years. And the enthusiasm of the fans supporting their countries is undeniably frenzied and inspirational. But there are a couple of characteristics that don't make sense to me...
First of all, the drama and over-acting that is on display during any given match is more than you would find on "The Jersey Shore" and "The Real Housewives of Orange County" combined. I mean really...the flailing and grimacing that occurs nearly every time someone falls to the ground is embarrassing. Lose seven teeth during the course of the game and then come back and play in the same game, and then you might be able to complain a little about the guy that pushed you down or kicked you in your padded shin guard. Play the game, prima donnas.
Also, I think that some of these guys have taken a few too many off the noggin. I mean, I like to watch the players trash-talk and complain to the refs. My amusement comes from knowing that German players more than likely don't understand what Serbian players are saying, and both can complain all they want to the Spanish ref, who doesn't understand either of them. My experience is that trash-talk and complaining work best when the message can be understood by the recipient, but these guys don't seem to care. It doesn't matter to me, as I just watch and give my own narrative, a la "Mystery Science Theater 3000".
But as much as I may want to try and embrace this event, the annoying buzzing of vuvuzelas makes watching difficult. Vuvuzelas are the plastic horns that are blown for the duration of the game by the fans, making it sound like a bee attack. How do they do that for 90 minutes straight? Worse yet, I have begun to hear these around the neighborhood. The pain and discomfort that these annoyances bring to the broadcast are similar to the vocal stylings provided by Hawk Harrelson during Sox games. So, I'll watch both with the sound off.
Let it be known that I have tried something new, but I just don't think that I'll become a follower. There's only so much audible pain that a man can take. I'll just catch a live baseball game or two, wait patiently for the football/hockey season to start again and hope that I don't run across someone blowing a vuvuzela out on the street.
If I do, I may be forced to turn it into a sitting pogo stick for them, and then have to endure complaining in a language I don't understand.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
What are we telling the kids??!!!!
I've got issues. I think anyone who knows me or has read this blog would readily jump on board with this little axiom of the universe.
To that end, I think that we should take a little closer look at what we pass down to the next generation, particularly in the realm of nursery rhymes.
Now, it can be asserted that music and rhyme help a child's development. Fine, no argument here. My argument would be in regards to content. A closer look leads me to question if these are images we would really want kids to embrace in the height of their blissful innocence. A simple breakdown of these rhymes comes into direct conflict with my Spock-like adherence to logic. For example...
The Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe - The impossible logistics aside, since this old lady doesn't know what to do with all her kids, try this for starters...get a job that doesn't involve you laying down. Should this woman with such lower moral fiber, who barely feeds and then whips her bastard children, be immortalized in song? I hope that somewhere, someone has created a second verse that incorporates the DCFS.
Humpty Dumpty - This one's got all kinds of problems. Who among us names an egg? Or puts an egg on a wall? Or really gives a rat's ass if that egg falls off said wall? Wouldn't a king have better use of his troops than to deploy them to try to reconstruct an egg? Aren't horses going to have problems trying to put an egg back together, what with the hooves and the general lack of reasoning? Sop that bad boy up with a Wet-vac, get a new egg, don't name it, and move on. If the five-second rule applies, grab a bowl and a whisk and make an omelet.
Jack & Jill - Let's see...two kids run up a hill, the boy falls down and cracks open his skull, so the girl decides to tumble on down after him. Is she an idiot? Why would anyone do that? Don't parents want to teach kids to NOT do stupid things just because all the other kids are doing it? Patty-cake away to this gem!!
And my personal favorite...
Ring Around the Rosie - Let's dance around and sing about "The Plague", shall we? A round rosy rash (a plague symptom), posies of herbs that were carried in belief of plague protection, "Atch chew! atch chew!" (sneezing, another and final fatal plague symptom), and all fall down (and die). Yea! Disease is fun, isn't it kids?
But, who am I to say? These things have been around for generations before me and will continue long after I'm gone. And, I guess, I never really questioned these rhymes when I was a kid, so how bad can they be? (I guess these are better than having kids skipping around quoting rap lyrics).
But kids are getting smarter earlier with each generation, and we would all like everyone (regardless of age) to know what they are talking about when they speak.
So be prepared, we all may have some questions to answer some time soon.
To that end, I think that we should take a little closer look at what we pass down to the next generation, particularly in the realm of nursery rhymes.
Now, it can be asserted that music and rhyme help a child's development. Fine, no argument here. My argument would be in regards to content. A closer look leads me to question if these are images we would really want kids to embrace in the height of their blissful innocence. A simple breakdown of these rhymes comes into direct conflict with my Spock-like adherence to logic. For example...
The Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe - The impossible logistics aside, since this old lady doesn't know what to do with all her kids, try this for starters...get a job that doesn't involve you laying down. Should this woman with such lower moral fiber, who barely feeds and then whips her bastard children, be immortalized in song? I hope that somewhere, someone has created a second verse that incorporates the DCFS.
Humpty Dumpty - This one's got all kinds of problems. Who among us names an egg? Or puts an egg on a wall? Or really gives a rat's ass if that egg falls off said wall? Wouldn't a king have better use of his troops than to deploy them to try to reconstruct an egg? Aren't horses going to have problems trying to put an egg back together, what with the hooves and the general lack of reasoning? Sop that bad boy up with a Wet-vac, get a new egg, don't name it, and move on. If the five-second rule applies, grab a bowl and a whisk and make an omelet.
Jack & Jill - Let's see...two kids run up a hill, the boy falls down and cracks open his skull, so the girl decides to tumble on down after him. Is she an idiot? Why would anyone do that? Don't parents want to teach kids to NOT do stupid things just because all the other kids are doing it? Patty-cake away to this gem!!
And my personal favorite...
Ring Around the Rosie - Let's dance around and sing about "The Plague", shall we? A round rosy rash (a plague symptom), posies of herbs that were carried in belief of plague protection, "Atch chew! atch chew!" (sneezing, another and final fatal plague symptom), and all fall down (and die). Yea! Disease is fun, isn't it kids?
But, who am I to say? These things have been around for generations before me and will continue long after I'm gone. And, I guess, I never really questioned these rhymes when I was a kid, so how bad can they be? (I guess these are better than having kids skipping around quoting rap lyrics).
But kids are getting smarter earlier with each generation, and we would all like everyone (regardless of age) to know what they are talking about when they speak.
So be prepared, we all may have some questions to answer some time soon.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
What's in a name?
I awoke this morning to the news that the Independent candidate for Governor of Illinois, Scott Lee Cohen, had picked a running mate. This is not particularly interesting news, except that the person chosen has a very interesting name, Baxter Swilley. If this election was won or lost based on the uniqueness of names, this guy wins in a landslide.
But what's in a name? My name, for example, has a biblical meaning of "rock". One look at me and my fluffy midriff and sprouting man-boobs would lead one to believe that my parents were misguidedly optimistic. Sure, I could change my name to something more appropriate, like Prince or Master P, but I don't possess the requisite vanity for such a transformation.
Which leads me to believe that nicknames (at least in the world of men) are more often representative of how we are seen by the world. The general rule of thumb is that one cannot nickname oneself, (I tried, but my wife laughed "Boom Boom" out of the room). Nicknames can only be assigned by friends and family.
For some, this can be a simple as a shortening of a name, as in "Sully" or "Smitty". For others, it may be based in a physical characteristic, like "Red" or "Freckles". Or be flat-out mean like "Tarhead" or "Bubbles". However, my favorite nicknames are those creative monikers that withstand the test of time.
This brings me to Mel.
Before going any further, I must say that it takes a special kind of person to embrace a nickname that is deprecating, and to know Mel is to love Mel. He's a large, loud, jolly man with a large frame and an even larger heart. But Mel hasn't always been "Mel".
"Mel" is a version of his real name that was contracted into it's current form during our teen years, right around the time that his head started growing faster than his body (and we needed to know a guy named "Mel" in case we wanted to start a bowling team - as every team needs to have one).
During the late 80s, and based on cinematic reference, "Mel" was replaced with "Uncle Buck" (which should give you an appropriate mental picture of his physical presence). And, more recently, a grass roots effort has been established to amend "Mel" to "Cheese Fries" (I won't go into why). As much as this makes me giggle, I don't think it will stick.
That's because, as much as we may try to change his nickname, all the great memories that we've had together, I've had with "Mel". Trying to change that nickname at this point just doesn't seem right.
But it sure is fun to try.
But what's in a name? My name, for example, has a biblical meaning of "rock". One look at me and my fluffy midriff and sprouting man-boobs would lead one to believe that my parents were misguidedly optimistic. Sure, I could change my name to something more appropriate, like Prince or Master P, but I don't possess the requisite vanity for such a transformation.
Which leads me to believe that nicknames (at least in the world of men) are more often representative of how we are seen by the world. The general rule of thumb is that one cannot nickname oneself, (I tried, but my wife laughed "Boom Boom" out of the room). Nicknames can only be assigned by friends and family.
For some, this can be a simple as a shortening of a name, as in "Sully" or "Smitty". For others, it may be based in a physical characteristic, like "Red" or "Freckles". Or be flat-out mean like "Tarhead" or "Bubbles". However, my favorite nicknames are those creative monikers that withstand the test of time.
This brings me to Mel.
Before going any further, I must say that it takes a special kind of person to embrace a nickname that is deprecating, and to know Mel is to love Mel. He's a large, loud, jolly man with a large frame and an even larger heart. But Mel hasn't always been "Mel".
"Mel" is a version of his real name that was contracted into it's current form during our teen years, right around the time that his head started growing faster than his body (and we needed to know a guy named "Mel" in case we wanted to start a bowling team - as every team needs to have one).
During the late 80s, and based on cinematic reference, "Mel" was replaced with "Uncle Buck" (which should give you an appropriate mental picture of his physical presence). And, more recently, a grass roots effort has been established to amend "Mel" to "Cheese Fries" (I won't go into why). As much as this makes me giggle, I don't think it will stick.
That's because, as much as we may try to change his nickname, all the great memories that we've had together, I've had with "Mel". Trying to change that nickname at this point just doesn't seem right.
But it sure is fun to try.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
What if it was all true?
I came out of a daydreaming haze, usually reserved for 4th-graders with a window seat, wondering, "What if the things depicted in movies really happened"? Now, I don't mean the creations of the Morgan Spurlocks and Michael Moores of the world, but the stories that are supposedly set in our little corners.
What if it was all true? What would my daily life be like? Where would I live? Well...
I think New York would be a very interesting place to live - what with the likes of Batman, Spiderman and Superman patrolling the streets and skies. But who would want to live there? I know if the the Joker, Green Goblin and Lex Luther are trying to rule the world from MY neighborhood, I'm calling Remax and I'm on the first train outta Dodge.
But I wouldn't move into any place on Elm Street, USA, as there has been some psycho terrorizing that street for the better part of 20 years. And, by the way, I worked, played some golf, watched a little baseball and occasionally got together with family and friends - just in case you wanted to know what I did last summer. Now nobody has to call me and whisper to me that you know.
Every Friday, the 13th and Halloween, you will find me on a beach somewhere, as those places seem to be safe during those days of the year.
We will definitely need to pay a little more attention to our global hula hoop - as aliens who want to steal our resources or kidnap our elderly seem to think that our planet is the inter-galactic Studio 54. I guess we could just have the Enterprise, Stargate and Battlestar Galactica crews act as bouncers - let the aliens pick up those they left behind at the DMV or on the Brown line, and scram! No soup, or minerals, or humans for you!
I can't live in Kansas, since the storms are so powerful that they knock you so silly that you see green witches and flying monkeys. Or maybe acid rain has something to do with that.
I don't want to go to California - their governor is scary and seems a bit "robotic".
So, I guess I'll just pack up the family and jump into my Griswaldian family truckster and head off towards Iowa to watch a little dead-man baseball. I'll call Mr. Gecko to see if we can get together on a deal for orange juice futures from a tip I got from Louie Winthorpe and Billy Ray Valentine.
In the meantime, I'll make sure to stay away from anyone that looks like Tom Cruise, Nicholas Cage or Sir Anthony Hopkins. Nothing good can happen around them.
What if it was all true? What would my daily life be like? Where would I live? Well...
I think New York would be a very interesting place to live - what with the likes of Batman, Spiderman and Superman patrolling the streets and skies. But who would want to live there? I know if the the Joker, Green Goblin and Lex Luther are trying to rule the world from MY neighborhood, I'm calling Remax and I'm on the first train outta Dodge.
But I wouldn't move into any place on Elm Street, USA, as there has been some psycho terrorizing that street for the better part of 20 years. And, by the way, I worked, played some golf, watched a little baseball and occasionally got together with family and friends - just in case you wanted to know what I did last summer. Now nobody has to call me and whisper to me that you know.
Every Friday, the 13th and Halloween, you will find me on a beach somewhere, as those places seem to be safe during those days of the year.
We will definitely need to pay a little more attention to our global hula hoop - as aliens who want to steal our resources or kidnap our elderly seem to think that our planet is the inter-galactic Studio 54. I guess we could just have the Enterprise, Stargate and Battlestar Galactica crews act as bouncers - let the aliens pick up those they left behind at the DMV or on the Brown line, and scram! No soup, or minerals, or humans for you!
I can't live in Kansas, since the storms are so powerful that they knock you so silly that you see green witches and flying monkeys. Or maybe acid rain has something to do with that.
I don't want to go to California - their governor is scary and seems a bit "robotic".
So, I guess I'll just pack up the family and jump into my Griswaldian family truckster and head off towards Iowa to watch a little dead-man baseball. I'll call Mr. Gecko to see if we can get together on a deal for orange juice futures from a tip I got from Louie Winthorpe and Billy Ray Valentine.
In the meantime, I'll make sure to stay away from anyone that looks like Tom Cruise, Nicholas Cage or Sir Anthony Hopkins. Nothing good can happen around them.
Monday, May 3, 2010
SB 1070...Amen!!
I have a problem understanding the recent outrage in the immigrant communities across the US regarding SB 1070, the Arizona Immigration Law, which requires individuals to produce proof of their status as legal US residents when requested by law enforcement.
A Drivers License or state ID Card are legitimate means of showing legal residency. I know that I have had to produce this every time I have encountered a law enforcement officer (the exact number of times will remain my little secret). It doesn't bother me to do this, so why would it bother so many? The only reason I could think of is - because those are the people that can't produce such an ID, because those are the people who are here illegally!!!
Most of us are descendants of immigrants on some level. And I know that, many years ago, the higher branches on my family tree went through the legal process necessary to obtain citizenship. Why is this any different now? It isn't; it's just not as tightly enforced and illegal immigrants have been getting away with not going through the legal process. Now that tighter enforcement is in place somewhere, some feel persecuted for essentially HAVING TO FOLLOW THE LAW.
Let's face it...anyone who is in this country illegally KNOWS that they are here illegally and are breaking the law. Do they feel that they should not be subject to the punishment that legal citizens are subject to when caught breaking the law? Should the protesters who smeared refried bean swastikas on the Phoenix capital building not be punished? I believe that is referred to as 'vandalism'.
The logic of those who have a perception of self entitlement escapes me.
I especially like the claims that this law is racist. However, I can't find any language that states that this law is targeted at any one particular ethnic group. It may be implied to be targeting Mexicans, since it is in Arizona, and we can all look at a map. But I saw protesters in Chicago on Saturday, which included people waving Mexican, Irish and Polish flags. So, how about we just drop that argument, as it seems to be the last-ditched effort to win an argument that has no substantiation.
I wonder how many of the people that are protesting are actual legal immigrants. I would think that those who went through the process and obtained legal status correctly would be pissed at those who want the same freedoms of our country without having to go through the process. I don't think there is any one legal citizen that would like to partake in all this country has to offer, without having to pay taxes.
Maybe I should expect to have any career I want without having to become educated or experienced or go through an interview process. That seems realistic.
I'll suggest everyone who protests be required to show proof of residency before taking to the streets in protest. Free speech is, after all, a right provided for US citizens in this country. If you're not a US citizen, go back home and protest there.
If Arizona is anything like Chicago, Wednesday will have the streets filled with people celebrating by blaring loud music and driving with large flags on their cars. Excessive noise and driving with impairments on a vehicle are illegal, so the police should be busy.
Better bring your IDs.
A Drivers License or state ID Card are legitimate means of showing legal residency. I know that I have had to produce this every time I have encountered a law enforcement officer (the exact number of times will remain my little secret). It doesn't bother me to do this, so why would it bother so many? The only reason I could think of is - because those are the people that can't produce such an ID, because those are the people who are here illegally!!!
Most of us are descendants of immigrants on some level. And I know that, many years ago, the higher branches on my family tree went through the legal process necessary to obtain citizenship. Why is this any different now? It isn't; it's just not as tightly enforced and illegal immigrants have been getting away with not going through the legal process. Now that tighter enforcement is in place somewhere, some feel persecuted for essentially HAVING TO FOLLOW THE LAW.
Let's face it...anyone who is in this country illegally KNOWS that they are here illegally and are breaking the law. Do they feel that they should not be subject to the punishment that legal citizens are subject to when caught breaking the law? Should the protesters who smeared refried bean swastikas on the Phoenix capital building not be punished? I believe that is referred to as 'vandalism'.
The logic of those who have a perception of self entitlement escapes me.
I especially like the claims that this law is racist. However, I can't find any language that states that this law is targeted at any one particular ethnic group. It may be implied to be targeting Mexicans, since it is in Arizona, and we can all look at a map. But I saw protesters in Chicago on Saturday, which included people waving Mexican, Irish and Polish flags. So, how about we just drop that argument, as it seems to be the last-ditched effort to win an argument that has no substantiation.
I wonder how many of the people that are protesting are actual legal immigrants. I would think that those who went through the process and obtained legal status correctly would be pissed at those who want the same freedoms of our country without having to go through the process. I don't think there is any one legal citizen that would like to partake in all this country has to offer, without having to pay taxes.
Maybe I should expect to have any career I want without having to become educated or experienced or go through an interview process. That seems realistic.
I'll suggest everyone who protests be required to show proof of residency before taking to the streets in protest. Free speech is, after all, a right provided for US citizens in this country. If you're not a US citizen, go back home and protest there.
If Arizona is anything like Chicago, Wednesday will have the streets filled with people celebrating by blaring loud music and driving with large flags on their cars. Excessive noise and driving with impairments on a vehicle are illegal, so the police should be busy.
Better bring your IDs.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
The Idiot vs. Squirrel Nation
I normally have respect for all of God's creatures, and I believe that everything in life has a purpose (although for the life of me, I can't figure out the role in the universe of the cockroach). I try to do my best to co-exist with all creatures, even the bats, cats and snakes that give me the willies.
But when these creatures make it personal, it's go time!
Such is the case with my neighborhood nemesis...the squirrel. Much like the cockroach, I know of no redeeming quality for these rats-with-furry-tails, other than to provide a gauge of the severity of winter by the bushiness of their tails or to keep our driving reflexes fine-tuned as they dart randomly across the street, as if in their own little game of "Frogger".
About a year ago, one of these power line-walkers (whom I dubbed "Dave") decided to pick a fight. It started out harmless enough; he would perch on the window sill outside my bedroom, make eye contact as if to say "Hi", and then scoot along his merry way. Little did I know he was taunting me and doing re-con, behind his wee-beady eyes.
Soon after our first encounter, I began to awake every morning at 4:37am to Dave scratching at the wood and plastic window frame, either trying to get in, annoy me, or some combination thereof. His timing was impeccable. Yelling and bull-rushing the window didn't move him. Pounding on the window only invoked a look of defiance. I think I may have even seen him smile.
So after 10 straight days of this taunting I did the only thing that I could do to avoid future wake-up calls...I spackled Dave's chew-toy and added a little piece of flavor. That was the last I heard from Dave.
Recently, Round Two began as one of Dave's family or gang members (this one doesn't have the nose scar that Dave had) has apparently decided to continue Dave's legacy of torment. This one (whom Mrs. Idiot has named "Spider Squirrel"), has developed the ability to vertically climb the walls of our building; occasionally coming to rest with his nut-hoarding claws in the tiny holes of our screen windows.
As with Dave, his behavior was intriguing, as first. However, torn screens and his ill-timed incidents of scaring the B-Jesus out of Mrs. Idiot, leave me little choice. I am, after all, the Man of the House, and I have to protect the domain.
Maybe I'm over-reacting, and it may be a bit "Orwellian" to believe that squirrels have the capacity for taunting or vindication. But I've seen the way they chase each other up and down and around trees, so whose to say that Spider Squirrel isn't the evolutionary leader of his species?
I'm not taking any chances. It's off to spray-glue the screen windows...victory shall be mine!!!
But when these creatures make it personal, it's go time!
Such is the case with my neighborhood nemesis...the squirrel. Much like the cockroach, I know of no redeeming quality for these rats-with-furry-tails, other than to provide a gauge of the severity of winter by the bushiness of their tails or to keep our driving reflexes fine-tuned as they dart randomly across the street, as if in their own little game of "Frogger".
About a year ago, one of these power line-walkers (whom I dubbed "Dave") decided to pick a fight. It started out harmless enough; he would perch on the window sill outside my bedroom, make eye contact as if to say "Hi", and then scoot along his merry way. Little did I know he was taunting me and doing re-con, behind his wee-beady eyes.
Soon after our first encounter, I began to awake every morning at 4:37am to Dave scratching at the wood and plastic window frame, either trying to get in, annoy me, or some combination thereof. His timing was impeccable. Yelling and bull-rushing the window didn't move him. Pounding on the window only invoked a look of defiance. I think I may have even seen him smile.
So after 10 straight days of this taunting I did the only thing that I could do to avoid future wake-up calls...I spackled Dave's chew-toy and added a little piece of flavor. That was the last I heard from Dave.
Recently, Round Two began as one of Dave's family or gang members (this one doesn't have the nose scar that Dave had) has apparently decided to continue Dave's legacy of torment. This one (whom Mrs. Idiot has named "Spider Squirrel"), has developed the ability to vertically climb the walls of our building; occasionally coming to rest with his nut-hoarding claws in the tiny holes of our screen windows.
As with Dave, his behavior was intriguing, as first. However, torn screens and his ill-timed incidents of scaring the B-Jesus out of Mrs. Idiot, leave me little choice. I am, after all, the Man of the House, and I have to protect the domain.
Maybe I'm over-reacting, and it may be a bit "Orwellian" to believe that squirrels have the capacity for taunting or vindication. But I've seen the way they chase each other up and down and around trees, so whose to say that Spider Squirrel isn't the evolutionary leader of his species?
I'm not taking any chances. It's off to spray-glue the screen windows...victory shall be mine!!!
Monday, April 26, 2010
Guaranteed boost for self-esteem
We all have those days, from time to time, where things don't seem to be going our way; where it seems like life is force-feeding us a crap sandwich. Well, fear not for I have the antidote.
Take a trip to your nearest Wal-Mart.
Now, I know everyone has probably seen at least one of the 657 captioned pictures of various patrons of Wal-Mart (or so the photos claim). God knows I have, and my retinas are still stinging. Knowing how many Wal-Marts have sprouted up across the country, I could never have expected that any of these random characters would be found anywhere near me. Man, was I wrong.
I have seen this "Clockwork Orange" aversion-therapy freak show in person, and I can honestly say that I am a better man for it (at least I feel better about myself). Much like the way that thugs disfigure that one person so that others can see what happens when they disobey, I have seen the dark side and so I will now live to NOT become a member of this particular sub-culture.
To be fair, I also went to Target and K-Mart, to see if the stereotype was brand-specific. Not that the aisles of these establishments will be confused with a catwalk any time soon, but the patrons here seemed to be leaps and bounds ahead of the Wal-Mart crew in terms of fashion sense development.
Now, I am no Fashionista by any stretch of the imagination, but what I lack in fashion sense, I make up for in common sense. This is how I don't go out in public looking like I chose my wardrobe using only 'thickness of fabric' as a common denominator.
So I offer a little advice to my local Wal-Mart patrons. Please realize that it is not mandatory to have EVERY article of clothing exposed, especially underwear (that's why it's called UNDERwear) - I don't need to peak under that hood. And just because a shirt fits over your shoulders, doesn't mean it fits (those need to reach the pockets of the neon pink sweatpants that you have on with "Juicy" stretched across the ass to a point where it looks more like an optical illusion, please).
In the meantime...a trip to Wal-Mart will be guaranteed to boost your morale, and you can probably get something that you need for a great price, in the process. As long as you bring your common sense, some self respect and a little perception, you can't help but knowing that, no matter how bad the rest of your life may seem, at least you're not at the bottom of the social evolutionary ladder.
Take a trip to your nearest Wal-Mart.
Now, I know everyone has probably seen at least one of the 657 captioned pictures of various patrons of Wal-Mart (or so the photos claim). God knows I have, and my retinas are still stinging. Knowing how many Wal-Marts have sprouted up across the country, I could never have expected that any of these random characters would be found anywhere near me. Man, was I wrong.
I have seen this "Clockwork Orange" aversion-therapy freak show in person, and I can honestly say that I am a better man for it (at least I feel better about myself). Much like the way that thugs disfigure that one person so that others can see what happens when they disobey, I have seen the dark side and so I will now live to NOT become a member of this particular sub-culture.
To be fair, I also went to Target and K-Mart, to see if the stereotype was brand-specific. Not that the aisles of these establishments will be confused with a catwalk any time soon, but the patrons here seemed to be leaps and bounds ahead of the Wal-Mart crew in terms of fashion sense development.
Now, I am no Fashionista by any stretch of the imagination, but what I lack in fashion sense, I make up for in common sense. This is how I don't go out in public looking like I chose my wardrobe using only 'thickness of fabric' as a common denominator.
So I offer a little advice to my local Wal-Mart patrons. Please realize that it is not mandatory to have EVERY article of clothing exposed, especially underwear (that's why it's called UNDERwear) - I don't need to peak under that hood. And just because a shirt fits over your shoulders, doesn't mean it fits (those need to reach the pockets of the neon pink sweatpants that you have on with "Juicy" stretched across the ass to a point where it looks more like an optical illusion, please).
In the meantime...a trip to Wal-Mart will be guaranteed to boost your morale, and you can probably get something that you need for a great price, in the process. As long as you bring your common sense, some self respect and a little perception, you can't help but knowing that, no matter how bad the rest of your life may seem, at least you're not at the bottom of the social evolutionary ladder.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Death of a salesman
In my seemingly endless search for employment, I have thrown my hat into the ring for more than a few sales positions. Sales is something that I have done in varying degrees periodically throughout my career. But I also believe that everyone has to be a sales person, whether selling themselves, their ideas or their products.
Recently, I have come across two forms of salesmen; both trying to pitch products to me for which I have expressed interest. One left me feeling good about the entire process and the other left me to think that I would never want to deal with him or his company again. Their products may surprise you...
First, I had a great experience at the car dealership. Now, this is usually a place where people leave with a bad taste in their mouths - commission sales people that hound and pressure you into uncomfortable situations that make you feel that your virginity had been taken while still in your clothes. But my guy (let's call him "Ben"), listened to everything that I wanted, showed me the things that I wanted to see and gave me all the pre-sale information that I requested. Ben politely allowed me to leave the building without making a purchase (unheard of in car sales), and thanked me for coming in. Ben made no money off me for the 90 minutes that he spent with me and respected my decision to think things over. He surely had to explain that to someone after I left.
Salesman #2 (let's call him "Keith"), is a guy I contacted about a business opportunity about two months ago. I had decided that the opportunity was not right for me right now, and told Keith as such. But that didn't seem to matter to Keith; I was an opportunity to make a commission and he could not let that go. He followed up his call to 'make sure', and set up more phone calls to 'keep in touch'. Within 36 hours, Steve had called and emailed FIVE times, even after he knew my decision.
Now I know that everyone has different styles, but part of sales is knowing the buyer, listening to what is needed, and respecting the decision. The buyer, after all, is paying the salary of the commissioned salesman.
I guess the lesson here is very easy to understand, but surprisingly difficult to execute. When selling - either yourself, your ideas, or your products - LISTEN to the buyer. Show the benefits of what you are selling and how those benefits help the buyer solve their problem, and understand that what you are selling is not going to be the answer for everyone. Ben got that, that's why I would deal with Ben again. The same can not be said for Keith. His persistence to sign me as a means to make him money, regardless of my decision that it was not right for me, has killed any chance of me working with him again.
We are all buyers and sellers at some points in our lives. In the "Sales" parts of our lives, I hope that more people will be like Ben than Keith, and focus on what our buyers need, instead of thinking only of the potential benefits for ourselves. "Bens" make out better in the long run.
Recently, I have come across two forms of salesmen; both trying to pitch products to me for which I have expressed interest. One left me feeling good about the entire process and the other left me to think that I would never want to deal with him or his company again. Their products may surprise you...
First, I had a great experience at the car dealership. Now, this is usually a place where people leave with a bad taste in their mouths - commission sales people that hound and pressure you into uncomfortable situations that make you feel that your virginity had been taken while still in your clothes. But my guy (let's call him "Ben"), listened to everything that I wanted, showed me the things that I wanted to see and gave me all the pre-sale information that I requested. Ben politely allowed me to leave the building without making a purchase (unheard of in car sales), and thanked me for coming in. Ben made no money off me for the 90 minutes that he spent with me and respected my decision to think things over. He surely had to explain that to someone after I left.
Salesman #2 (let's call him "Keith"), is a guy I contacted about a business opportunity about two months ago. I had decided that the opportunity was not right for me right now, and told Keith as such. But that didn't seem to matter to Keith; I was an opportunity to make a commission and he could not let that go. He followed up his call to 'make sure', and set up more phone calls to 'keep in touch'. Within 36 hours, Steve had called and emailed FIVE times, even after he knew my decision.
Now I know that everyone has different styles, but part of sales is knowing the buyer, listening to what is needed, and respecting the decision. The buyer, after all, is paying the salary of the commissioned salesman.
I guess the lesson here is very easy to understand, but surprisingly difficult to execute. When selling - either yourself, your ideas, or your products - LISTEN to the buyer. Show the benefits of what you are selling and how those benefits help the buyer solve their problem, and understand that what you are selling is not going to be the answer for everyone. Ben got that, that's why I would deal with Ben again. The same can not be said for Keith. His persistence to sign me as a means to make him money, regardless of my decision that it was not right for me, has killed any chance of me working with him again.
We are all buyers and sellers at some points in our lives. In the "Sales" parts of our lives, I hope that more people will be like Ben than Keith, and focus on what our buyers need, instead of thinking only of the potential benefits for ourselves. "Bens" make out better in the long run.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Random thoughts (not by Stuart Smalley)
- What is a Justin Bieber and why does a 10-year-old-looking 15-year-old rule the Internet searches? Anybody wanna bet on what he'll be like in 20 years - see Leif Garrett?
- Why are 'iotas' expressed only in groups of one?
- Does it concern anyone else that Minnesota elected a senator whose alter-ego is Stuart Smalley?
- If someone asks if they can 'ask you a question?', does that count as the question that they requested to ask?
- And what does it mean to "Ax a question"?
- How do blind people know when they're done wiping?
- Can the creative sector of the universe really not do any better with movie-making than to do remakes and sequels? How many "Saw" movies do we need? Thank God that "Nightmare on Elm Street - 2010" is coming out soon - I had just about forgotten about the first five.
- That goes for TV, too. What is the appeal of "Dancing With the Stars" and "American Idol"? I'll take "Lost", "Rescue Me", "Arrested Development"and "Modern Family" for my viewing pleasure. At least there is some creative writing and thoughts, as opposed to who can extend their "15 minutes" the longest.
- I forgot how enjoyable it is to ride a bike. My butt and legs remind me that's it's been over 20 years since I rode a bike, but I have a new warm-weather resolution.
- I've heard White Sox manager Ozzie Guillen lately. I haven't always understood him, but I've heard him. I would like to set the over/under on his departure from his current job as the All-Star Game. Wager amongst yourselves.
- Why are 'iotas' expressed only in groups of one?
- Does it concern anyone else that Minnesota elected a senator whose alter-ego is Stuart Smalley?
- If someone asks if they can 'ask you a question?', does that count as the question that they requested to ask?
- And what does it mean to "Ax a question"?
- How do blind people know when they're done wiping?
- Can the creative sector of the universe really not do any better with movie-making than to do remakes and sequels? How many "Saw" movies do we need? Thank God that "Nightmare on Elm Street - 2010" is coming out soon - I had just about forgotten about the first five.
- That goes for TV, too. What is the appeal of "Dancing With the Stars" and "American Idol"? I'll take "Lost", "Rescue Me", "Arrested Development"and "Modern Family" for my viewing pleasure. At least there is some creative writing and thoughts, as opposed to who can extend their "15 minutes" the longest.
- I forgot how enjoyable it is to ride a bike. My butt and legs remind me that's it's been over 20 years since I rode a bike, but I have a new warm-weather resolution.
- I've heard White Sox manager Ozzie Guillen lately. I haven't always understood him, but I've heard him. I would like to set the over/under on his departure from his current job as the All-Star Game. Wager amongst yourselves.
Friday, April 16, 2010
"It" sucks
As the weather turns warm in Chicago, and I see kids flocking to ice cream trucks like moths to a light, I can't help but notice that I don't see kids playing the way we used to when I was their age. Sure, there are games of basketball and soccer going on, and the park swing sets and slides are employed in mindless repetition.
But what I mean are the pre-teen classics - the ones that required cunning and creative-thinking, where alliances were formed and dissolved for self-preservation - skills that every kid should learn for use in Corporate America later in life.
Now, I'm sure that some of these games were regional in their genesis, so exact names and rules may vary, but I mean games like "Red Rover", "Spud", "Mother-May-I?", "Red Light, Yellow Light, Green Light", and "Frozen Tag", to name a few. For my money, the best was "Kick the Can".
The game was simple enough - put an empty can in the middle of the sidewalk, and designate one player as "It". Other players would hide and "It" would have to find them, run back to the can, and tap it while declaring the name and location of a discovered hiding player, thus transferring "It" status for the next round. If "It" strayed too far away from the can and one of the hiders was able emerge and kick the can before being detected, "It" remained "It" for another round. Being "It" sucked.
The hiders would conspire to either "out" other hiders (through "It"-Hider alliances), or to work as a team to keep one person "It" for as long as possible (I vaguely recall my little sister being "It" from 1976-1978, aka "The Golden Years").
However, the TRUE creativity came in deciding who was "It" to begin each game. All players would put their foot into a circle. Someone would begin touching toes around the circle while reciting some form of a ritualistic poem, moving from foot to foot with each syllable. The poems usually had to do with catching something by a toe or an in-depth analysis of a fist-fight between mothers hanging up clothes. (I'm still convinced that this method is used by the Bears to make some of their draft choices, but I digress).
As narrator, the goal was to get the poem to end on the foot of who you wanted to be "It", so syllable control was essential; nothing short of an art form . It was imperative to keep alliances with the master toe-tappers on the block and stave off "It" status as much as possible. Because being "It" sucked.
As senseless as these games may seem, they did have some lessons to be learned - teamwork, creative thinking, etc., and (especially when being "It"), learning that not everything will go your way, and you still have to play within the rules even when everyone seems to be against you.
In the game of Corporate America, anyone else feel like they are "It"? Being "It" sucks.
But what I mean are the pre-teen classics - the ones that required cunning and creative-thinking, where alliances were formed and dissolved for self-preservation - skills that every kid should learn for use in Corporate America later in life.
Now, I'm sure that some of these games were regional in their genesis, so exact names and rules may vary, but I mean games like "Red Rover", "Spud", "Mother-May-I?", "Red Light, Yellow Light, Green Light", and "Frozen Tag", to name a few. For my money, the best was "Kick the Can".
The game was simple enough - put an empty can in the middle of the sidewalk, and designate one player as "It". Other players would hide and "It" would have to find them, run back to the can, and tap it while declaring the name and location of a discovered hiding player, thus transferring "It" status for the next round. If "It" strayed too far away from the can and one of the hiders was able emerge and kick the can before being detected, "It" remained "It" for another round. Being "It" sucked.
The hiders would conspire to either "out" other hiders (through "It"-Hider alliances), or to work as a team to keep one person "It" for as long as possible (I vaguely recall my little sister being "It" from 1976-1978, aka "The Golden Years").
However, the TRUE creativity came in deciding who was "It" to begin each game. All players would put their foot into a circle. Someone would begin touching toes around the circle while reciting some form of a ritualistic poem, moving from foot to foot with each syllable. The poems usually had to do with catching something by a toe or an in-depth analysis of a fist-fight between mothers hanging up clothes. (I'm still convinced that this method is used by the Bears to make some of their draft choices, but I digress).
As narrator, the goal was to get the poem to end on the foot of who you wanted to be "It", so syllable control was essential; nothing short of an art form . It was imperative to keep alliances with the master toe-tappers on the block and stave off "It" status as much as possible. Because being "It" sucked.
As senseless as these games may seem, they did have some lessons to be learned - teamwork, creative thinking, etc., and (especially when being "It"), learning that not everything will go your way, and you still have to play within the rules even when everyone seems to be against you.
In the game of Corporate America, anyone else feel like they are "It"? Being "It" sucks.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
April 15...one of my favorite days!!
Today, April 15, is usually seen as a D-Day of sorts every year - the day when everyone has to have their taxes filed. This is an exercise that is usually dreaded by most, including me. So why would this be one of my favorite days?
Because today is also the anniversary of the first Major League Baseball game played by Jackie Robinson. His breaking of the color barrier in the "great American pastime" is a defining action in the growth of our country. Am I over-stating this? Maybe. But take a look at what the League, and its current players do every year to commemorate this occasion.
Today, all players are shedding their normal uniform numbers and donning Robinson's number, 42, as a tribute. To the best of my knowledge, such an honor is not practiced in any other sport, for any other athlete. Not only is it brilliant marketing for recognition of this man, but I believe that its uniqueness shows exactly how important this event was.
In an era when scandal and salaries usually rule the headlines of professional sports, I say "Congratulations" to Major League Baseball, on recognizing the importance of this anniversary, and doing something truly special to mark the event.
Now, if they could only find a way to regulate their sports announcers, so that I would not have to be subjected to the incoherent ramblings of Ron Santo and Ken ("I Love My Voice and I'm a Red-neck Rooter") Harrelson while trying to enjoy a Chicago game, I will be eternally grateful.
Because today is also the anniversary of the first Major League Baseball game played by Jackie Robinson. His breaking of the color barrier in the "great American pastime" is a defining action in the growth of our country. Am I over-stating this? Maybe. But take a look at what the League, and its current players do every year to commemorate this occasion.
Today, all players are shedding their normal uniform numbers and donning Robinson's number, 42, as a tribute. To the best of my knowledge, such an honor is not practiced in any other sport, for any other athlete. Not only is it brilliant marketing for recognition of this man, but I believe that its uniqueness shows exactly how important this event was.
In an era when scandal and salaries usually rule the headlines of professional sports, I say "Congratulations" to Major League Baseball, on recognizing the importance of this anniversary, and doing something truly special to mark the event.
Now, if they could only find a way to regulate their sports announcers, so that I would not have to be subjected to the incoherent ramblings of Ron Santo and Ken ("I Love My Voice and I'm a Red-neck Rooter") Harrelson while trying to enjoy a Chicago game, I will be eternally grateful.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Woman in the blue Honda.
I was walking home from the store, at an intersection, when I heard a car horn erupt. Not just once, but with the regularity that seemed to be a message in Morse code. From what I, and the drivers of several surrounding cars could gather, the woman in a blue Honda was displeased with the driver two cars in front of her for not having moved far enough along to allow her to be the 2nd car in the left turn lane, instead of the 3rd.
I naturally enjoyed her exaggerated anger, and chuckled a little as I looked at her on my way past. She looked back at me - a look I've seen before. She didn't say or "signal" anything, but I know what that look meant. It was as if her eyes had changed into letters 'F' and 'U' in front of me. I was now the focus of her anger.
Of course, nothing else happened, and we both moved along with our days. But the rest of the way home, I wondered what the rest of her day would be like. She was obviously in a bad mood, but how long would that last? Would everyone who came into contact with her get the same glare I did? The truth is, the odds are against me that I will ever know.
We all have bad days, it's just a fact of life. But if you think about it (and I mean really think about it), no matter how bad something is, it could always be worse. That is, up until the point that the something kills you, and at that time, I would hardly think that it matters.
So, next time you have a bad day, or something unwanted happens to you, take a minute to think about how it could be worse. Then, be thankful that the situation did not reach that point. It will change your perception, and thus, help to minimize the severity of your misfortune. Here is a general example that will work in most situations...
Remember that you are one of TRILLIONS of living creatures on this planet, and are at the top of the food chain. At no point in time during your day (or as a way of life) will you have to make plans to avoid other beings trying to capture and/or eat you. You also have food, clothes, shelter, companionship and multiple forms of communications - more than can be said for people in other parts of the world.
I hope that the woman in the blue Honda would do this, and that her day would get better, but I won't know. So, at least I hope she finds the time to listen to her favorite song or have a scoop of ice cream.
Try being upset after doing one of those things.
I naturally enjoyed her exaggerated anger, and chuckled a little as I looked at her on my way past. She looked back at me - a look I've seen before. She didn't say or "signal" anything, but I know what that look meant. It was as if her eyes had changed into letters 'F' and 'U' in front of me. I was now the focus of her anger.
Of course, nothing else happened, and we both moved along with our days. But the rest of the way home, I wondered what the rest of her day would be like. She was obviously in a bad mood, but how long would that last? Would everyone who came into contact with her get the same glare I did? The truth is, the odds are against me that I will ever know.
We all have bad days, it's just a fact of life. But if you think about it (and I mean really think about it), no matter how bad something is, it could always be worse. That is, up until the point that the something kills you, and at that time, I would hardly think that it matters.
So, next time you have a bad day, or something unwanted happens to you, take a minute to think about how it could be worse. Then, be thankful that the situation did not reach that point. It will change your perception, and thus, help to minimize the severity of your misfortune. Here is a general example that will work in most situations...
Remember that you are one of TRILLIONS of living creatures on this planet, and are at the top of the food chain. At no point in time during your day (or as a way of life) will you have to make plans to avoid other beings trying to capture and/or eat you. You also have food, clothes, shelter, companionship and multiple forms of communications - more than can be said for people in other parts of the world.
I hope that the woman in the blue Honda would do this, and that her day would get better, but I won't know. So, at least I hope she finds the time to listen to her favorite song or have a scoop of ice cream.
Try being upset after doing one of those things.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Email chain letters. Who is THAT bored?
I got an email chain letter yesterday (not my first), and it got me to thinking...are people I know, who have my email address, really that bored and gullible? They can't really buy into this crap, can they?
This particular email was about a "new" traffic law. It had the usual story about a relative of a friend who found peril for not being aware of this law. It had red lettering and capital letters, designed to show importance in the message, and claims of pre-validation (that sources had been checked and that the message was 100% true).
Imagine my shock when I did my own research and found that the "facts" of the message were distorted. I felt it was my duty to respond to this personalized spam in a method that the originators could understand. I advised all people listed on the email, including the sender and the person who sent it to them, of the truth. But that didn't seem to be enough...I had to add something that these people would understand...something that was meaningful to them.
So, I outlined the facts and instructed each of them to pass my rebuttal along to three (3) people within the next 87.75 minutes to receive good luck. Failure to do so would result in a fire ant attack on their genitals. I haven't heard back about any attacks, so I can only assume one of the following - either 45 people now know the truth, or my curse-invoking super powers ain't what they used to be.
The person who sent the email to the person who sent it to me responded by saying that she is praying for me. However, I'm not sure what she is praying for. She may be teaming up with God to 'reverse the curse'.
I'm getting some Raid underwear, just in case.
This particular email was about a "new" traffic law. It had the usual story about a relative of a friend who found peril for not being aware of this law. It had red lettering and capital letters, designed to show importance in the message, and claims of pre-validation (that sources had been checked and that the message was 100% true).
Imagine my shock when I did my own research and found that the "facts" of the message were distorted. I felt it was my duty to respond to this personalized spam in a method that the originators could understand. I advised all people listed on the email, including the sender and the person who sent it to them, of the truth. But that didn't seem to be enough...I had to add something that these people would understand...something that was meaningful to them.
So, I outlined the facts and instructed each of them to pass my rebuttal along to three (3) people within the next 87.75 minutes to receive good luck. Failure to do so would result in a fire ant attack on their genitals. I haven't heard back about any attacks, so I can only assume one of the following - either 45 people now know the truth, or my curse-invoking super powers ain't what they used to be.
The person who sent the email to the person who sent it to me responded by saying that she is praying for me. However, I'm not sure what she is praying for. She may be teaming up with God to 'reverse the curse'.
I'm getting some Raid underwear, just in case.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Civil War revisited
Today marks the 145th anniversary of the end of the Civil War. Yet, there are still lingering feelings of dispute between those from the North and those from the South.
I don't understand why Gov. Bob McDonnell felt the need to proclaim that Confederate History Month will be celebrated again in Virginia. But doing so without mentioning anything about slavery (which I believe was the main issue of the war) seems incredibly arrogant or incredibly stupid. (He admitted that he made a mistake omitting that detail a couple days later).
Aren't there speech-writing people that would maybe write and proofread a state-(or Commonwealth)-wide proclamation? There may be a job opening soon in Virginia.
Actually, the whole thing seems a bit off to me. If my recollection of 6th Grade U.S. History is correct, I believe the Confederacy lost. I don't regularly celebrate losses, but go ahead Virginia, and proclaim a month of greater awareness for defeat. Knock yourselves out. Please.
(My apologies for digressing; I just twisted my ankle getting off my soapbox).
I also have a hard time with the North-South conflict in my own backyard. And this is the time of year when this conflict is most prevalent in my little section of the world. White Sox vs. Cubs.
Now, the two baseball teams have co-existed in Chicago since long before I was born. I used to go to White Sox games with my father and friends, but also used to watch the Cubs on WGN when I came home from school. I like baseball, and always have. However, the conflict between the two fan bases has seemed to escalate exponentially since I was a kid. My guess is that the 1997 beginning of inter league play, when the two teams began to play each other in meaningful games during the year, had a lot to do with that.
I defy anyone over 25 years old who lives in Chicago to admit that they have never asked or been asked by someone in this city if they are a Cubs or Sox fan. Now, I like conjunctions as much as the next guy, so I choose to answer that question with an "and" instead of an "or". For this, it has been suggested that I am non-committal and without soul.
But, I do root for both teams. After all, they are from Chicago and so am I. Why wouldn't I want them both do win? When I go to Sox games with friends, I root for the Sox. When I watch Cubs games (I don't go to Wrigley anymore - its novelty has worn off me), I root for the Cubs.
But, you may ask, "What about when they play each other?" If forced to make a choice, I will give everyone an answer, just not the same one. I will root for the team that you don't support (and maybe even hate - as it seems that Sox fans hate Cubs fans more than vice versa), since the reason that the question is asked in the first place is to find common ground with others, or to spark debate.
I'll take debate; to me it's way more fun.
I don't understand why Gov. Bob McDonnell felt the need to proclaim that Confederate History Month will be celebrated again in Virginia. But doing so without mentioning anything about slavery (which I believe was the main issue of the war) seems incredibly arrogant or incredibly stupid. (He admitted that he made a mistake omitting that detail a couple days later).
Aren't there speech-writing people that would maybe write and proofread a state-(or Commonwealth)-wide proclamation? There may be a job opening soon in Virginia.
Actually, the whole thing seems a bit off to me. If my recollection of 6th Grade U.S. History is correct, I believe the Confederacy lost. I don't regularly celebrate losses, but go ahead Virginia, and proclaim a month of greater awareness for defeat. Knock yourselves out. Please.
(My apologies for digressing; I just twisted my ankle getting off my soapbox).
I also have a hard time with the North-South conflict in my own backyard. And this is the time of year when this conflict is most prevalent in my little section of the world. White Sox vs. Cubs.
Now, the two baseball teams have co-existed in Chicago since long before I was born. I used to go to White Sox games with my father and friends, but also used to watch the Cubs on WGN when I came home from school. I like baseball, and always have. However, the conflict between the two fan bases has seemed to escalate exponentially since I was a kid. My guess is that the 1997 beginning of inter league play, when the two teams began to play each other in meaningful games during the year, had a lot to do with that.
I defy anyone over 25 years old who lives in Chicago to admit that they have never asked or been asked by someone in this city if they are a Cubs or Sox fan. Now, I like conjunctions as much as the next guy, so I choose to answer that question with an "and" instead of an "or". For this, it has been suggested that I am non-committal and without soul.
But, I do root for both teams. After all, they are from Chicago and so am I. Why wouldn't I want them both do win? When I go to Sox games with friends, I root for the Sox. When I watch Cubs games (I don't go to Wrigley anymore - its novelty has worn off me), I root for the Cubs.
But, you may ask, "What about when they play each other?" If forced to make a choice, I will give everyone an answer, just not the same one. I will root for the team that you don't support (and maybe even hate - as it seems that Sox fans hate Cubs fans more than vice versa), since the reason that the question is asked in the first place is to find common ground with others, or to spark debate.
I'll take debate; to me it's way more fun.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
EGONOMICS. My new word...
So, I'm sitting in the waiting room at the car dealership (which should be renamed BOHICA - Bend Over Here It Comes Again) waiting for them to cure the screeching-cat brake system on our car, when I came across a news article that prompted me to create a new word...EGONOMICS.
First, let me define this new word, and as I made it up, I get to define it. EGONOMICS (n) - derived loosely from the concept in economics, where prices are driven inversely by supply (prices go up as supply goes down). Along this path, EGONOMICS is a term that describes the inverse relationship that exists between affluence and accountability. In other words, how those in high places can't accept the responsibility of those positions because their egos get in the way.
Case in point - Republican National Committee Chairman Michael Steele. Mr. Steele was elected as the RNC leader in 2009, but has been under criticism by his own party for his allocation of party funds, most recently for $2000 spent by the party for entertaining donors at a Los Angeles nightclub. Mr. Steele's response was to fire his chief of staff.
Now, I understand that poop runs downhill, and that this may be seen as taking accountability, on some level, for questionable financial decisions which occur ultimately under your supervision. One cannot know everything that happens in an organization of that size. That's not the issue.
The issue is that, in the midst of his own party calling for his resignation, based on a variety of spending questions, Mr. Steele said that he was being held to a higher standard because he was the first African-American to lead the party. (I know what you're thinking..."No, he di'in't")
Oh, yes he did, so here is my letter.
Dear Mr. Steele -
The fact that you MAY be critiqued on how well you do your job is a function of the fact that (a) you are the leader of your committee, and (b) you were ELECTED to that position BY your committee. My guess and hope is that such positions are not filled based on ethnicity, but instead by experience and qualifications.
So, how about realizing that ANYONE in leadership of finances will have their spending scrutinized? When there are problems, deal with them. Investigate the issues, find the problems, fix them and move on. And yes, along the way, realize that it's not the end of the world to admit that something may have gone wrong on your watch. We're humans, we make mistakes. And ask Bill Clinton and Kobe Bryant how forgiving people are in general.
Because you are the top rung on the ladder means that you are most accountable, regardless of ethnicity. However, because you practice EGONOMICS, it means that you will find anyone or anything to blame but yourself when you come under fire.
You claim that you are held to a higher standard. Than whom? Please explain how you have to do things any differently than anyone else of a different ethnic background would. Is there an outline that says that white people have to do A,B, and C, but African Americans have to do D, E, and F if elected to be RNC Chairman?
Just wondering if you can explain that one for me.
So there you have EGONOMICS defined by example (also see Tiger Woods, Bill Clinton, Kobe Bryant, etc...)
First, let me define this new word, and as I made it up, I get to define it. EGONOMICS (n) - derived loosely from the concept in economics, where prices are driven inversely by supply (prices go up as supply goes down). Along this path, EGONOMICS is a term that describes the inverse relationship that exists between affluence and accountability. In other words, how those in high places can't accept the responsibility of those positions because their egos get in the way.
Case in point - Republican National Committee Chairman Michael Steele. Mr. Steele was elected as the RNC leader in 2009, but has been under criticism by his own party for his allocation of party funds, most recently for $2000 spent by the party for entertaining donors at a Los Angeles nightclub. Mr. Steele's response was to fire his chief of staff.
Now, I understand that poop runs downhill, and that this may be seen as taking accountability, on some level, for questionable financial decisions which occur ultimately under your supervision. One cannot know everything that happens in an organization of that size. That's not the issue.
The issue is that, in the midst of his own party calling for his resignation, based on a variety of spending questions, Mr. Steele said that he was being held to a higher standard because he was the first African-American to lead the party. (I know what you're thinking..."No, he di'in't")
Oh, yes he did, so here is my letter.
Dear Mr. Steele -
The fact that you MAY be critiqued on how well you do your job is a function of the fact that (a) you are the leader of your committee, and (b) you were ELECTED to that position BY your committee. My guess and hope is that such positions are not filled based on ethnicity, but instead by experience and qualifications.
So, how about realizing that ANYONE in leadership of finances will have their spending scrutinized? When there are problems, deal with them. Investigate the issues, find the problems, fix them and move on. And yes, along the way, realize that it's not the end of the world to admit that something may have gone wrong on your watch. We're humans, we make mistakes. And ask Bill Clinton and Kobe Bryant how forgiving people are in general.
Because you are the top rung on the ladder means that you are most accountable, regardless of ethnicity. However, because you practice EGONOMICS, it means that you will find anyone or anything to blame but yourself when you come under fire.
You claim that you are held to a higher standard. Than whom? Please explain how you have to do things any differently than anyone else of a different ethnic background would. Is there an outline that says that white people have to do A,B, and C, but African Americans have to do D, E, and F if elected to be RNC Chairman?
Just wondering if you can explain that one for me.
So there you have EGONOMICS defined by example (also see Tiger Woods, Bill Clinton, Kobe Bryant, etc...)
Monday, April 5, 2010
Not since the bombing of the World Trade Center...
In a truly remarkable day in sports, we have the opening of the 2010 baseball season, the under dog Butler Bulldogs trying to become the lowest seed to win the NCAA men's basketball title since Kansas in 1988 (#6 seed), and the return to the golf course of serial fornicator tiger Woods. However, my attention is on something that occurred yesterday, which is more significant to me, since I am their fan.
For the first time in 17 years (1993), the Chicago Blackhawks clinched their division title (which is no longer the Norris Division, as named when they last won). These slightly more significant events also happened in 1993...
- the bombing of the World Trade Center
- David Koresh and the siege of the Branch Davidians in Waco, TX
- Rodney King being pummeled in the streets of LA
Now it may seem like yesterday that "Unforgiven", Jurassic Park", "Schindler's List" and "Indecent Proposal" came out in theaters (and that Marisa Tomei actually won a Best Supporting Actress Oscar for "My Cousin Vinny"), but it really has been almost two decades.
However, this is only the beginning, as we can only hope that there is not a repeat of 1993, when the Hawks were swept out of the first round of the playoffs, only weeks before the airing of the last episode of "Cheers". It is believed by some that this unfortunate turn of events may have caused the deaths of Dizzy Gillespie, Andre the Giant, George "Spanky" McFarland and Frank Zappa.
Celebrate the achievement now, but the team needs to focus on the big picture of winning the Stanley Cup. Otherwise some terrible things might happen again, like the Marisa Tomei Phenomenon, and nobody wants to see that.
For the first time in 17 years (1993), the Chicago Blackhawks clinched their division title (which is no longer the Norris Division, as named when they last won). These slightly more significant events also happened in 1993...
- the bombing of the World Trade Center
- David Koresh and the siege of the Branch Davidians in Waco, TX
- Rodney King being pummeled in the streets of LA
Now it may seem like yesterday that "Unforgiven", Jurassic Park", "Schindler's List" and "Indecent Proposal" came out in theaters (and that Marisa Tomei actually won a Best Supporting Actress Oscar for "My Cousin Vinny"), but it really has been almost two decades.
However, this is only the beginning, as we can only hope that there is not a repeat of 1993, when the Hawks were swept out of the first round of the playoffs, only weeks before the airing of the last episode of "Cheers". It is believed by some that this unfortunate turn of events may have caused the deaths of Dizzy Gillespie, Andre the Giant, George "Spanky" McFarland and Frank Zappa.
Celebrate the achievement now, but the team needs to focus on the big picture of winning the Stanley Cup. Otherwise some terrible things might happen again, like the Marisa Tomei Phenomenon, and nobody wants to see that.
Friday, April 2, 2010
All Fridays are Good.
Today is Good Friday (aren't ALL Fridays good?) in my Catholic world, so I have a few general questions with regards to our Lenten practices...
- As a not-eating-meat-on-Fridays-during-Lent Catholic, and in the sense of fair play, I would like to know what do vegetarian Catholics not eat?
- Do places like Gibson's and Ruth's Chris have measurable down cycles between February and April? And think about the irony for the Catholic cattle farmers?
- Has anyone else had a similar debate with their conscience on Fridays during Lent about "What EXACTLY IS meat? Funny how mothers and wives don't buy into the rationale that McNuggets and White Castles TECHNICALLY aren't meat. It was worth a shot, though.
- I used to give up things for Lent when I was a kid. Then I gave up Catholicism for Lent so I wouldn't have to give anything up. My mother still doesn't smile at that.
Happy Easter to all and I'll be back on Monday for the beginning of the baseball season and the end of the NCAA tournament.
- As a not-eating-meat-on-Fridays-during-Lent Catholic, and in the sense of fair play, I would like to know what do vegetarian Catholics not eat?
- Do places like Gibson's and Ruth's Chris have measurable down cycles between February and April? And think about the irony for the Catholic cattle farmers?
- Has anyone else had a similar debate with their conscience on Fridays during Lent about "What EXACTLY IS meat? Funny how mothers and wives don't buy into the rationale that McNuggets and White Castles TECHNICALLY aren't meat. It was worth a shot, though.
- I used to give up things for Lent when I was a kid. Then I gave up Catholicism for Lent so I wouldn't have to give anything up. My mother still doesn't smile at that.
Happy Easter to all and I'll be back on Monday for the beginning of the baseball season and the end of the NCAA tournament.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Ronald McDonald to retire. Does he have a Golden (Arches) Parachute?
April 1 seems to be an appropriate day for me to begin a blog, so we are off to the races!!!
As the name hopefully indicates, I won't take myself nor my posts too seriously. But what I will try to convey going forward is my particular view on a myriad of topics - whatever pops into my substantial melon on any given day. Hopefully, this will provide a smile, chuckle or a different perspective along the way, or invoke some intelligent debate.
That being said...Are they really calling for Ronald McDonald's retirement? If this is true, there goes my summer gig.
Things must be a little slow at Corporate Accountability Intl. these days. I mean really, do you think that clownie is "fueling childhood obesity"? I don't ever recall being badgered by Ron (we're close) to partake in any of the products sold by the company that created this spokes-thing. My guess is that the little Roman gnome from Little Ceasar's is probably in the cross hairs, as well.
Here's a thought. How about focusing in on issues related to your company name? Maybe looking into the companies that got federal bailout money and investigating the repayment plan status.
Do you want to focus in on characters that might be fueling childhood obesity? Try taking a shot at Mario Brothers, as my guess is that video games have a pretty big hand in this issue.
But, I could be wrong...
As the name hopefully indicates, I won't take myself nor my posts too seriously. But what I will try to convey going forward is my particular view on a myriad of topics - whatever pops into my substantial melon on any given day. Hopefully, this will provide a smile, chuckle or a different perspective along the way, or invoke some intelligent debate.
That being said...Are they really calling for Ronald McDonald's retirement? If this is true, there goes my summer gig.
Things must be a little slow at Corporate Accountability Intl. these days. I mean really, do you think that clownie is "fueling childhood obesity"? I don't ever recall being badgered by Ron (we're close) to partake in any of the products sold by the company that created this spokes-thing. My guess is that the little Roman gnome from Little Ceasar's is probably in the cross hairs, as well.
Here's a thought. How about focusing in on issues related to your company name? Maybe looking into the companies that got federal bailout money and investigating the repayment plan status.
Do you want to focus in on characters that might be fueling childhood obesity? Try taking a shot at Mario Brothers, as my guess is that video games have a pretty big hand in this issue.
But, I could be wrong...
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