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!!!

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.

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.

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.

"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.

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.

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.