Eat my veggies, lift some weights and I'll grow up strong and healthy!
Random attempts at humor writing by a lefty.
10/13/2011
9/08/2011
Pop Culture memory: the microwave
I remember our first microwave. My Dad gave my mother a modern microwave
cooker for Christmas one year. It was
too big to fit between the countertop and bottom of the kitchen cabinets, so it
ended up in the utility room on top of the dryer. Not only was it big and heavy, but when we
used it to warm up our Patio burritos, it made a rather loud death-ray buzzing
sound with undertones of tiny aluminum fan.
We were all taught to respect this awesome beast of modern
cooking convenience. We were ever so
careful not to put anything metallic in it.
If something metal was put in the microwave, it would cause lightening
and then the microwave would blow up and we would all be exposed to deadly
microwaves which would cook us from the inside out. This
was such a thoroughly imbued warning that it was apparently still a part of the
collective psyche years later when I was in college.
One day of my freshman year, I was in the Student Center preparing
to warm my foil-wrapped lunch in the microwave provided for student use. I had gotten a paper plate from the kitchen
and was about to unwrap my lunch and place it on the plate when the Dean of the
English Department rushed over and shouted, “DON’T PUT THAT THING IN THERE! WE’LL
ALL DIE!”
6/09/2011
Oprah-Wan Kenoprah
Today I turned on the TV and saw back-to-back episodes of Dr. Phil. I then realized I was seeing the OWN Network and it occurred to me that Oprah has become like Obi-Wan Kenobi.
In the original Star Wars movie, Obi-Wan Kenobi challenges Darth Vader and allows himself to be struck down by Darth's light saber. Obi-Wan then becomes "more powerful than you can ever imagine". From then on he is no longer merely a regular physical presence in Luke Skywalker's life as a Jedi, but he is an ever-present spiritual advisor - a part of The Force - in Luke's mind.
Now that Oprah has ended "Oprah" after 25 years of providing daily guidance and life-changing television, she is not gone, but has actually become even more powerful than we ever imagined with the launch of her OWN network. She is not just on for an hour each weekday, she has a round-the-clock forum through which to guide, inspire, and mold us - her faithful devotees.
"Let go your feelings! Write them in your Gratitude Journal!"
"Feel the force of your own instinct - listen to yourself - as a woman you are powerful and wise!"
"Focus on your best life and surround yourself with your favorite things!"
"LUKE Lucy, I AM YOUR FATHER Mother Oprah!"
In the original Star Wars movie, Obi-Wan Kenobi challenges Darth Vader and allows himself to be struck down by Darth's light saber. Obi-Wan then becomes "more powerful than you can ever imagine". From then on he is no longer merely a regular physical presence in Luke Skywalker's life as a Jedi, but he is an ever-present spiritual advisor - a part of The Force - in Luke's mind.
Now that Oprah has ended "Oprah" after 25 years of providing daily guidance and life-changing television, she is not gone, but has actually become even more powerful than we ever imagined with the launch of her OWN network. She is not just on for an hour each weekday, she has a round-the-clock forum through which to guide, inspire, and mold us - her faithful devotees.
"Let go your feelings! Write them in your Gratitude Journal!"
"Feel the force of your own instinct - listen to yourself - as a woman you are powerful and wise!"
"Focus on your best life and surround yourself with your favorite things!"
Okay, so that last line was Darth Vader not Obi-wan Kenobi, but you get the picture.
Actually... maybe Oprah is Darth...
5/16/2011
Dogs Vs Cats - Again?
The "dogs versus cats" debate has gone on forever, much like the "mommy wars" with stay-at-home vs. working; so I think it is high time that I weigh in.
Most people who know me have labeled me as an "animal lover" (I protest that I only "like" animals) and I have both dogs and cats hanging out at my house. I can speak from intimate knowledge - but not that intimate - about the merits and behaviors of both dogs and cats. In my considered opinion, the wrong question is being debated. It is not whether cats are better than dogs or dogs better than cats; but rather, which species is more humanized or people-like. That's what we really expect, isn't it? If we're honest. We want our pets to understand us and not have to work too hard to understand them. We want obedience and companionship; therefore, the animal that is more like a person is the more appreciated pet; or rather, as PETA may prefer, animal companion.
That's why so many people like dogs. Dogs are responsive and gather around when household members arrive home, and so they are considered "friendly" and "loyal". Their panting with lips pulled back and tongue lolling appears to us as a smile or a laughing face. A dog will usually approach when a familiar person calls his name. Dogs are creatures of habit, much like us; they stick to a regular routine.
Cats, on the other hand, seem to be loners, don't come when called, don't "smile", and they don't seem to want to eat what we eat.
But I say, that when it comes to being people-like, cats are much more like the people I know than dogs.
Regarding dogs: How many people do you know who are happy all the time? Who always watch your back? Do your children always come running when you call them, and will they eat anything - from burnt toast to overripe cantaloupe? Of course not, the general behavior of my dogs does not live down to the general behavior of my family and so-called friends.
Dogs are superhuman, at best.
Cats, on the other hand, are people personified.
Cats tend toward neurotic lows and quixotic highs. When you talk to a cat, it will stare at you with little or no comprehension, just like a spouse or child. They often don't appreciate what is served for dinner. They tend to leave the house and show up again only at meal times, except on occassions when they don't show up and leave you to worry for a few hours. When he does finally show up, he strolls in like nothing is different and you aren't losing sleep over him. Cats also respond strangely to green leafy stuff in a baggie. And, by the way, cats do have expressions even if they don't smile. You just have to watch their eyes; afterall, isn't that where you look to get the true mood and measure of a person?
In nature, cats keep in touch over distances with their calls - lions roar, little cats yowl. Do you spend more time on your cellphone or more time talking face to face with physical contact? Next time, you call your cat, listen for a little meow. He's just checking in with you. He'd send a text, but he doesn't have thumbs.
Most people who know me have labeled me as an "animal lover" (I protest that I only "like" animals) and I have both dogs and cats hanging out at my house. I can speak from intimate knowledge - but not that intimate - about the merits and behaviors of both dogs and cats. In my considered opinion, the wrong question is being debated. It is not whether cats are better than dogs or dogs better than cats; but rather, which species is more humanized or people-like. That's what we really expect, isn't it? If we're honest. We want our pets to understand us and not have to work too hard to understand them. We want obedience and companionship; therefore, the animal that is more like a person is the more appreciated pet; or rather, as PETA may prefer, animal companion.
That's why so many people like dogs. Dogs are responsive and gather around when household members arrive home, and so they are considered "friendly" and "loyal". Their panting with lips pulled back and tongue lolling appears to us as a smile or a laughing face. A dog will usually approach when a familiar person calls his name. Dogs are creatures of habit, much like us; they stick to a regular routine.
Cats, on the other hand, seem to be loners, don't come when called, don't "smile", and they don't seem to want to eat what we eat.
But I say, that when it comes to being people-like, cats are much more like the people I know than dogs.
Regarding dogs: How many people do you know who are happy all the time? Who always watch your back? Do your children always come running when you call them, and will they eat anything - from burnt toast to overripe cantaloupe? Of course not, the general behavior of my dogs does not live down to the general behavior of my family and so-called friends.
Dogs are superhuman, at best.
Cats, on the other hand, are people personified.
Cats tend toward neurotic lows and quixotic highs. When you talk to a cat, it will stare at you with little or no comprehension, just like a spouse or child. They often don't appreciate what is served for dinner. They tend to leave the house and show up again only at meal times, except on occassions when they don't show up and leave you to worry for a few hours. When he does finally show up, he strolls in like nothing is different and you aren't losing sleep over him. Cats also respond strangely to green leafy stuff in a baggie. And, by the way, cats do have expressions even if they don't smile. You just have to watch their eyes; afterall, isn't that where you look to get the true mood and measure of a person?
In nature, cats keep in touch over distances with their calls - lions roar, little cats yowl. Do you spend more time on your cellphone or more time talking face to face with physical contact? Next time, you call your cat, listen for a little meow. He's just checking in with you. He'd send a text, but he doesn't have thumbs.
11/17/2010
The One-Minute Writer: Today's Writing Prompt: Selfish
I think I am more honest than the other commenters. Or maybe that's just ME! :)
The One-Minute Writer: Today's Writing Prompt: Selfish
The One-Minute Writer: Today's Writing Prompt: Selfish
11/06/2010
And How's Your Head?
Today we went to Taco Bell for a quick lunch. I hate to admit it, but it's true; I don't always eat organic vegan meals. So there I was, standing behind a blonde woman in a fleece vest, henley shirt, and jeans, waiting to order Mexican-style-ish food. Suddenly, the Casual Thursday woman sees an employee approaching from the "kitchen" or "assembly line" and loudly exclaims to her,
"I tried it! It was WONDERFUL! So good, I wish I had ordered it before!"
She was about to order food, she was talking about food she had recently tried, and she was remembering food she wished she had ordered differently. And she was at Taco Bell. And she didn't weight 350 pounds. Something was up.
This woman continued to rave on about the deliciousness of "it" to the girl from the assembly line while the employee behind the register waited patiently. She finally realized that there were people in line behind her and she whips around and shouts generally in the direction of my face,
"We are talking about their extra-large chalupa! It's SO good, you should order it!"
And then she turns back and quickly places her to go order and steps aside.
I felt bad about stepping up and ordering something completely different from her recommendation, but I can't eat beef. And I really can't eat beef and cheese. And then she said it...
The loud, oddly not obese, Taco Bell enthusiast says to her friend,
"I wonder if you can get whiplash from falling and hitting your head, because my neck is killing me!"
I am glad her order was "to go" because I had to hold my breath until they left.
----------------------------------------------------------
BWAHH-HA-HA-HAAAAAAAA!!!!! That explains it!
"I tried it! It was WONDERFUL! So good, I wish I had ordered it before!"
She was about to order food, she was talking about food she had recently tried, and she was remembering food she wished she had ordered differently. And she was at Taco Bell. And she didn't weight 350 pounds. Something was up.
This woman continued to rave on about the deliciousness of "it" to the girl from the assembly line while the employee behind the register waited patiently. She finally realized that there were people in line behind her and she whips around and shouts generally in the direction of my face,
"We are talking about their extra-large chalupa! It's SO good, you should order it!"
And then she turns back and quickly places her to go order and steps aside.
I felt bad about stepping up and ordering something completely different from her recommendation, but I can't eat beef. And I really can't eat beef and cheese. And then she said it...
The loud, oddly not obese, Taco Bell enthusiast says to her friend,
"I wonder if you can get whiplash from falling and hitting your head, because my neck is killing me!"
I am glad her order was "to go" because I had to hold my breath until they left.
----------------------------------------------------------
BWAHH-HA-HA-HAAAAAAAA!!!!! That explains it!
11/04/2010
Reading, writing, and 'makesmesick
After searching for and reading many blogs by writers, aspring writers, humorists, aspiring humorists, and wiseacres who need a better outlet; I have come to one conclusion -
I suck!
-like a weasel (for the "clean" freaks out there)
----------------------------------------------------------------
See? I forgot eggs! I suck - eggs like a weasel!
I suck!
-like a weasel (for the "clean" freaks out there)
----------------------------------------------------------------
See? I forgot eggs! I suck - eggs like a weasel!
11/01/2010
Excuse Me, I Stink!
Why do Southerners say "excuse me" so often? If you pass by someone at five feet, there is no need to say "excuse me" unless you just emitted some sort of invisible cloud. Every small request does not have to be prefaced by "excuse me" as if you were interrupting and causing a commotion. Let's look at the common questions which, in The South are too often prefaced by "excuse me".
First with the pet phrase:
"Excuse me. Do you have the time?"
"Excuse me. Do ya'll carry the new Tide with colorsafe?"
"Excuse me. I think you are standing on my foot."
Now without:
"Do you have the time?"
"Do ya'll carry the new Tide?"
"OWWWW!!!"
See? Much better and more efficient. Besides, "excuse me" seems to mean that you need to be given an excuse for some type of inappropriate behavior. What's inappropriate and why would someone ask a stranger for an excuse immediately after behaving inappropriately? That makes me think that when someone passes by and says, "excuse me" that I should offer an excuse for them; such as, "Maybe you had the broccoli at lunch and it doesn't agree with you."
Some unnecessarily polite Grammar Snob has informed me (and others) that we should be saying "pardon me" instead; but "pardon" is forgiveness for a crime. Surely, walking past someone on the grocery aisle isn't a crime! On the other hand, it should be a crime to behave as if you are too good to offer even a simple "excuse me" when you actually need to pass through or interfere in some way. There are those people at the grocery store, too - and in the library stacks and in museums... - breathing down your neck, but not saying a word. They come up behind and just stand there, waiting for their presence to be detected by the heavy breathing.
Come on! I'm not telepathic and sometimes I need to stop and consider a purchase, or snatch a knot in a child, or greet a friend. So why don't you say something like,
"Coming through here!"
"Would you mind stepping aside?"
or even, "Excuse me!
Don't just stand there and huff. And please, if you aren't too wide to fit past, go ahead and pass! You don't need the extra five feet of clearance - unless, like I said, you need to an excuse for your fumes.
First with the pet phrase:
"Excuse me. Do you have the time?"
"Excuse me. Do ya'll carry the new Tide with colorsafe?"
"Excuse me. I think you are standing on my foot."
Now without:
"Do you have the time?"
"Do ya'll carry the new Tide?"
"OWWWW!!!"
See? Much better and more efficient. Besides, "excuse me" seems to mean that you need to be given an excuse for some type of inappropriate behavior. What's inappropriate and why would someone ask a stranger for an excuse immediately after behaving inappropriately? That makes me think that when someone passes by and says, "excuse me" that I should offer an excuse for them; such as, "Maybe you had the broccoli at lunch and it doesn't agree with you."
Some unnecessarily polite Grammar Snob has informed me (and others) that we should be saying "pardon me" instead; but "pardon" is forgiveness for a crime. Surely, walking past someone on the grocery aisle isn't a crime! On the other hand, it should be a crime to behave as if you are too good to offer even a simple "excuse me" when you actually need to pass through or interfere in some way. There are those people at the grocery store, too - and in the library stacks and in museums... - breathing down your neck, but not saying a word. They come up behind and just stand there, waiting for their presence to be detected by the heavy breathing.
Come on! I'm not telepathic and sometimes I need to stop and consider a purchase, or snatch a knot in a child, or greet a friend. So why don't you say something like,
"Coming through here!"
"Would you mind stepping aside?"
or even, "Excuse me!
Don't just stand there and huff. And please, if you aren't too wide to fit past, go ahead and pass! You don't need the extra five feet of clearance - unless, like I said, you need to an excuse for your fumes.
10/24/2010
It's easy to get dirty - hard to stay clean
Less than two weeks ago I graduated from Jeff Justice's Comedy Workshoppe and performed my first stand up routine at The Punchline comedy club. There was a sold out crowd of friends and relatives of the 17 people "graduating" that night. We each got about 5 minutes to do our new thing on stage in the hot lights. It was phenomenal fun to be in front of a supportive audience and to make them laugh. It even sounded like real laughter. I thought I was funny for a few minutes there; but I did check behind me to see if there was somebody back there making faces or pulling his pants down.
Then I entered a comedy contest at another club out of town. Now, I want to point out that the info they sent about the contest said, "The more clever and clean you are, the more likely you are to advance."
I think this was a joke from the club owner. I was gullible enough to believe it; either that, or my definition of clean is a h*ll of a lot squeakier than anyone else's. I went in with just under seven minutes of well rehearsed comedy - or "jokes" as I call them.
After the first contestant, I knew I could be in trouble. By the time the fourth came off and I was next, I was practically in a panic. I realized that after hearing four people doing sex and masturbation jokes, and using the "f word" freely - the audience was going to be numb to my "clean" jokes. And I guess I was right. I say "guess" because the audience barely got a chance to decide. I know I sound like sour grapes, but I can't help but wonder if the crowd would have warmed up to me a bit if I had been allowed to get through my set; but I wasn't.
There were three so-called celebrity judges who were mainly there to give critiques to each contestant after each performance. One of the judges had a high hat cymbal to use as a gong. He gonged me barely three minutes into my set. I was pretty miffed that I didn't get a better chance. Admittedly, I started weak because I was so psyched out by all the "dirty" comedy before me. So I faltered a bit. It's also possible that they took my opening little joke as bragging. I said, "Well, I'm not a guy, ethnic, Jewish, bitterly divorced or a lesbian; so I guess my chance of making it in stand up comedy is thhhffft*!"
*(Made a 'raspberry" sound and a zero gesture.)
I guess there were more lesbians and bitter divorcees in the crowd than I expected.
I did get some laughs after that, but not enough for the judge with the cymbal apparently. Anyway, I survived my first bombing and I am still alive. I am questioning whether a straight, happily married white girl can make it on that scene. I also have been asking myself how edgy am I willing and able to be. Frankly, I think just about anybody can come up with a dirty joke. Being funny without being shocking or gross is a bigger challenge. I believe I would like to continue to tackle that bigger challenge.
That's all I have to say about that for now.
Then I entered a comedy contest at another club out of town. Now, I want to point out that the info they sent about the contest said, "The more clever and clean you are, the more likely you are to advance."
I think this was a joke from the club owner. I was gullible enough to believe it; either that, or my definition of clean is a h*ll of a lot squeakier than anyone else's. I went in with just under seven minutes of well rehearsed comedy - or "jokes" as I call them.
After the first contestant, I knew I could be in trouble. By the time the fourth came off and I was next, I was practically in a panic. I realized that after hearing four people doing sex and masturbation jokes, and using the "f word" freely - the audience was going to be numb to my "clean" jokes. And I guess I was right. I say "guess" because the audience barely got a chance to decide. I know I sound like sour grapes, but I can't help but wonder if the crowd would have warmed up to me a bit if I had been allowed to get through my set; but I wasn't.
There were three so-called celebrity judges who were mainly there to give critiques to each contestant after each performance. One of the judges had a high hat cymbal to use as a gong. He gonged me barely three minutes into my set. I was pretty miffed that I didn't get a better chance. Admittedly, I started weak because I was so psyched out by all the "dirty" comedy before me. So I faltered a bit. It's also possible that they took my opening little joke as bragging. I said, "Well, I'm not a guy, ethnic, Jewish, bitterly divorced or a lesbian; so I guess my chance of making it in stand up comedy is thhhffft*!"
*(Made a 'raspberry" sound and a zero gesture.)
I guess there were more lesbians and bitter divorcees in the crowd than I expected.
I did get some laughs after that, but not enough for the judge with the cymbal apparently. Anyway, I survived my first bombing and I am still alive. I am questioning whether a straight, happily married white girl can make it on that scene. I also have been asking myself how edgy am I willing and able to be. Frankly, I think just about anybody can come up with a dirty joke. Being funny without being shocking or gross is a bigger challenge. I believe I would like to continue to tackle that bigger challenge.
That's all I have to say about that for now.
10/13/2010
This Mine 69 days without an accident
I am glad that the Chilean miners were rescued before Christmas. It was heartwarming to see each miner brought up to greet and hug their waiting loved ones for the first time in over 2 months. It was gripping to watch Yonni Barrios come out of that hole in the ground, slowly turn, and see...
his mistress. His expression was hard to decipher as he accepted her hugs. Was he relieved that his wife wasn't there with a pair of shears? Was he sad to see confirmation that he was getting a divorce? Was his mistress the one he was hoping to see? Was he actually planning on dumping her right before the accident? I suspect we will hear more about that little Chilean drama.
I think Yonni will do quite well, though; even if his wife gets the house. It looks like those miners could be set for awhile and maybe for life. They have received many gifts and are set to get endorsement deals, movie and book contracts, compensation from the government and the owners of the mine. Yonni might get on a TV court drama - or be the next Bachelor.
It seems to me that the miners will be heavily rewarded for participating in a workplace accident. I'm not saying they shouldn't be compensated, but they could potentially walk away with fortunes. They are celebrities - brave survivors. They will be more than compensated. I think this kind of thing happens a lot these days. People are in a disaster, an accident, or a weird incident in which they grab two beers and slide down the emergency chute; and suddenly they are celebrities. Interviews, books, websites, viral videos pave the path to fame and fortune.
Couldn't this encourage reckless or careless behavior at work?
"Hey, let's goof around and maybe we'll cause a spectacular accident that makes us all rich! That is, all of us who survive."
I think if you work in a dangerous or potentially dangerous industrial setting, you should keep an eye on your co-workers. Watch out for those who seemed bored with life and for those who are continually cash-strapped. They may decide to start something.
Just remember, not EVERY disaster works out for the best.
his mistress. His expression was hard to decipher as he accepted her hugs. Was he relieved that his wife wasn't there with a pair of shears? Was he sad to see confirmation that he was getting a divorce? Was his mistress the one he was hoping to see? Was he actually planning on dumping her right before the accident? I suspect we will hear more about that little Chilean drama.
I think Yonni will do quite well, though; even if his wife gets the house. It looks like those miners could be set for awhile and maybe for life. They have received many gifts and are set to get endorsement deals, movie and book contracts, compensation from the government and the owners of the mine. Yonni might get on a TV court drama - or be the next Bachelor.
It seems to me that the miners will be heavily rewarded for participating in a workplace accident. I'm not saying they shouldn't be compensated, but they could potentially walk away with fortunes. They are celebrities - brave survivors. They will be more than compensated. I think this kind of thing happens a lot these days. People are in a disaster, an accident, or a weird incident in which they grab two beers and slide down the emergency chute; and suddenly they are celebrities. Interviews, books, websites, viral videos pave the path to fame and fortune.
Couldn't this encourage reckless or careless behavior at work?
"Hey, let's goof around and maybe we'll cause a spectacular accident that makes us all rich! That is, all of us who survive."
I think if you work in a dangerous or potentially dangerous industrial setting, you should keep an eye on your co-workers. Watch out for those who seemed bored with life and for those who are continually cash-strapped. They may decide to start something.
Just remember, not EVERY disaster works out for the best.
10/08/2010
9/30/2010
Class Reunion Moment
When I was in nursery school I had a best friend. We always played together and his name was Kevin. Then we moved to another town and I only saw Kevin a few more times when I went back to visit my grandparents. We lost contact completely for several years, but then when my family moved back to my hometown, I found myself sitting in my new homeroom class, on the first day of school, right behind Kevin!
I tapped him on the shoulder and said with a big smile, "Hi! It's been awhile!"
He sat twisted in his seat, giving me a blank look.
"Remember me? I know I've grown up some, but we used to play together ALL the time when we were little? And our parents were good friends?"
He smiled then and looked about the room as if he was anticipating that the rest of the class would be watching this reunion moment. Then he asked,
"Is this a candid camera joke or something? I don't know you."
I tapped him on the shoulder and said with a big smile, "Hi! It's been awhile!"
He sat twisted in his seat, giving me a blank look.
"Remember me? I know I've grown up some, but we used to play together ALL the time when we were little? And our parents were good friends?"
He smiled then and looked about the room as if he was anticipating that the rest of the class would be watching this reunion moment. Then he asked,
"Is this a candid camera joke or something? I don't know you."
They say it is nice to be remembered.
The One Minute Writer
I was a daily winner on One Minute Writer for the second time! Yay ME!
http://oneminutewriter.blogspot.com/2010/08/todays-writing-prompt-forget.html
http://oneminutewriter.blogspot.com/2010/08/todays-writing-prompt-forget.html
TREAT TIME!
9/08/2010
Sweet Joe
My latest relationship is with Joe. I just love Joe. He is so adorable with his coarse black hair, wideset eyes, and ears that stick out to the sides. He has a very healthy round physique and short little legs. I think it is so cute how he doesn't bend his knees when he runs.
He is very proud of his long beard, and I like it too. It's so long that it looks like he could trip over it.
He charms all the ladies but he responds to me best. Everyone responds to him. When he calls out in that low quavery voice of his, nobody resists answering.
"Hey, Joe! What do you want, Joe?"
"Naa-a-a."
Yep, Joe the Billy is the cutest pygmy goat I know.
He is very proud of his long beard, and I like it too. It's so long that it looks like he could trip over it.
He charms all the ladies but he responds to me best. Everyone responds to him. When he calls out in that low quavery voice of his, nobody resists answering.
"Hey, Joe! What do you want, Joe?"
"Naa-a-a."
Yep, Joe the Billy is the cutest pygmy goat I know.
Comedy Workshoppe apology
Dear Comedy Workshoppe Guy:
I'm sorry that I was rather disruptive during the first session of the course. I came in late and then developed a crushing migraine and had to leave early during a bout with extreme nausea and auras. There is no excuse for that. I feel terrible about missing out on most of that first session because it seemed very fun and informative - plus I paid $449 for this short workshop.
I promise it won't happen again. At least, I hope it won't happen again. I can't really promise it won't happen again, since I had very little control over the situation. I can say that I will allow even more extra time over the travel time given by my navigation device so that I can have a better chance of being prompt. I can also bring Excedrin and sunglasses.
I do want to thank you for choosing such a nice hotel in which to hold the workshop, because I was able to enjoy a clean and quiet room while I suffered through my migraine headache.
BTW, I think the person who referred me to your class must have missed some, too. He obviously didn't hear the part where you warn against the use of profanity and dirty jokes. He is all about v*g*n*s and d*ck jokes. I even heard him call a heckler a m*th* f**ker. I was like, What?! I thought you were supposed to use witty banter to win the audience; not just yell, "Shut up, you m* f*!"
Anyway, I can't criticize him too much because he's out there winning contests - and he might not renew my prescription.
Again, I am sorry and I will see you next week,
Sincerely,
Your Student
cc: my shrink
I'm sorry that I was rather disruptive during the first session of the course. I came in late and then developed a crushing migraine and had to leave early during a bout with extreme nausea and auras. There is no excuse for that. I feel terrible about missing out on most of that first session because it seemed very fun and informative - plus I paid $449 for this short workshop.
I promise it won't happen again. At least, I hope it won't happen again. I can't really promise it won't happen again, since I had very little control over the situation. I can say that I will allow even more extra time over the travel time given by my navigation device so that I can have a better chance of being prompt. I can also bring Excedrin and sunglasses.
I do want to thank you for choosing such a nice hotel in which to hold the workshop, because I was able to enjoy a clean and quiet room while I suffered through my migraine headache.
BTW, I think the person who referred me to your class must have missed some, too. He obviously didn't hear the part where you warn against the use of profanity and dirty jokes. He is all about v*g*n*s and d*ck jokes. I even heard him call a heckler a m*th* f**ker. I was like, What?! I thought you were supposed to use witty banter to win the audience; not just yell, "Shut up, you m* f*!"
Anyway, I can't criticize him too much because he's out there winning contests - and he might not renew my prescription.
Again, I am sorry and I will see you next week,
Sincerely,
Your Student
cc: my shrink
8/22/2010
8/16/2010
Big Pipes with Awning Stripes
Why does McDonald's give out those pipes with red and yellow awning stripes in the place of straws?
It made sense in the old days to have everyone drain an entire cup of soda in one slurp - back when they charged for refills- but what is the thinking behind this strategy now? Because free soda bars are available everywhere; you would think that swigging down quarts of soda should only cause more trips to the appetite-suppressing restrooms. How could this sell more burgers? Instead of "_ billion sold", a more appropriate motto might be "_billion flushes".
I don't think it's about selling burgers anymore, people. I think it is a conspiracy against the American people- and the Chinese people, European people, etc. - to simply increase profits at the expense of our internal tanks and well-being. If we quickly fill our stomachs with sweet soda and that soda begins to quickly course through to our bladders, we eat less food.
It works like this: we believe we are full and satiated and that next time we should order less food. At the same time, we are quickly addicted to the head rush created by cold, sugary, caffeinated soda and we return to that "free" soda bar as soon as we come out of the restroom. By creating soda addicts who eat less solid food, McDonald's has increased their profits. How? Basic marketing principles, people! The profit margin for self-serve soda is much higher than for food. If you drink more soda and eat less food, they make more MONEY! In other words, you buy a two dollar cup that costs them 10 cents and fill it with ice and soda yourself for maybe another 10 cents. No employee has been paid to prepare or fill your cup, no cooking oil has been reused to fry that tasty drink, no extra air conditioning needed to cool the fry cooks and frost the dining area - just a bucket and a pipe and a do-it-yourself soda bar. It's genius! Whoever thought of those pipe-straws and soda bars should be rich by now!
And, of course, we go to McDonald's more when we think, "Wow! I only ate the small burger and a soda, and I still gained weight this week! That's depressing, I guess I have a slow metabolism and there is nothing I can do but consume more caffeine. I'll just wheel by McDonald's. They have the biggest cups and straws."
Disclaimer: All the stuff I have written in my posts is intended to be humorous and is my own opinion or "take" on things. My info my sound like fact but could be totally wrong and made up. Supportive comments and LOLs are welcome. Disagreement or crabby comments are usually posted also. So far I am not making any money with this blogging.
It made sense in the old days to have everyone drain an entire cup of soda in one slurp - back when they charged for refills- but what is the thinking behind this strategy now? Because free soda bars are available everywhere; you would think that swigging down quarts of soda should only cause more trips to the appetite-suppressing restrooms. How could this sell more burgers? Instead of "_ billion sold", a more appropriate motto might be "_billion flushes".
I don't think it's about selling burgers anymore, people. I think it is a conspiracy against the American people- and the Chinese people, European people, etc. - to simply increase profits at the expense of our internal tanks and well-being. If we quickly fill our stomachs with sweet soda and that soda begins to quickly course through to our bladders, we eat less food.
It works like this: we believe we are full and satiated and that next time we should order less food. At the same time, we are quickly addicted to the head rush created by cold, sugary, caffeinated soda and we return to that "free" soda bar as soon as we come out of the restroom. By creating soda addicts who eat less solid food, McDonald's has increased their profits. How? Basic marketing principles, people! The profit margin for self-serve soda is much higher than for food. If you drink more soda and eat less food, they make more MONEY! In other words, you buy a two dollar cup that costs them 10 cents and fill it with ice and soda yourself for maybe another 10 cents. No employee has been paid to prepare or fill your cup, no cooking oil has been reused to fry that tasty drink, no extra air conditioning needed to cool the fry cooks and frost the dining area - just a bucket and a pipe and a do-it-yourself soda bar. It's genius! Whoever thought of those pipe-straws and soda bars should be rich by now!
And, of course, we go to McDonald's more when we think, "Wow! I only ate the small burger and a soda, and I still gained weight this week! That's depressing, I guess I have a slow metabolism and there is nothing I can do but consume more caffeine. I'll just wheel by McDonald's. They have the biggest cups and straws."
Disclaimer: All the stuff I have written in my posts is intended to be humorous and is my own opinion or "take" on things. My info my sound like fact but could be totally wrong and made up. Supportive comments and LOLs are welcome. Disagreement or crabby comments are usually posted also. So far I am not making any money with this blogging.
6/17/2010
From 8/15/2008: Fools On A Plane
Air travel is a lot like checking into a hospital. It reduces one to a state of helplessness and our basest needs and emotions.
Like the hospital, the airline has us under its control as soon as we check in. We hand over our rights and dignity and accept conditions we would normally rail about. They can limit our personal baggage, how many outfits we will be wearing over the next few hours or days, promote the invasion of our physical space by assigning us to a narrow space with strangers on either elbow and pressing their knees into our backs. We are subjected to incarceration in a large but cramped capsule for as long as the airline and crew deem necessary. The top guy can order us to be strapped down.
If the temperature is uncomfortable we have little options or control. We can sweat and moan quietly if it's too hot, or we can whine for a scrap of a blanket if it's too cold. They control when and what we eat, and they even interrupt our sleep-if we can manage any- to see if we want anything.
On a recent four hour flight we were served sips of liquid sustenance in tiny cups filled with ice and tossed small bags of pretzels. It reminded me of the little cups of juice that accompany bland, starchy hospital meals.
However, DH and I did find a source of comfort on this flight, but we may have detracted from the experience for those immediately around us. We listened to comedy on the "complimentary satellite radio".
I don't know if it was because we were hopped up on ginger ale, pretzels, and high altitude, but we both got really hysterical while listening to Seinfeld, followed by Jeff Foxworthy - an interesting lineup. DH got carried away first and started that crying kind of laughter. He was trying to muffle it and just teared up all the more. This got me going, but thankfully I was in the window seat and could giggle and choke into the corner. Finally, I tossed my jacket over DH's head to shield his contorted hysterical face from other passengers who were starting to turn and look.
Whew! I miss the old days when we all had to watch the same mediocre movies together. At least we could commiserate as a plane-trapped community.
DH and I finally got some self-control back. And while the plane slowly taxied up to the airport after the flight, and the temperature rose to an uncomfortable level, a flight attendant announced for all passengers to "please lower your window shade to keep the cabin cool and comfortable for the next flight".
Ha! Maybe some A/C or a new compressor would be more effective?
And next time, I'll remember that Dramamine, airplane snacks, and Seinfeld are a dangerous cocktail.
Disclaimer: The above is my not so humble opinion and personal experience and is not intended to reflect the subjective experience of other airline passengers. It is also meant to be mildly entertaining and not necessarily wholly factual. I understand that the airline industry provides us with a very valuable service and has a tremendous responsibility to the public. I realize that the cost cutting efforts that airlines employ are in order to keep air travel affordable.
Like the hospital, the airline has us under its control as soon as we check in. We hand over our rights and dignity and accept conditions we would normally rail about. They can limit our personal baggage, how many outfits we will be wearing over the next few hours or days, promote the invasion of our physical space by assigning us to a narrow space with strangers on either elbow and pressing their knees into our backs. We are subjected to incarceration in a large but cramped capsule for as long as the airline and crew deem necessary. The top guy can order us to be strapped down.
If the temperature is uncomfortable we have little options or control. We can sweat and moan quietly if it's too hot, or we can whine for a scrap of a blanket if it's too cold. They control when and what we eat, and they even interrupt our sleep-if we can manage any- to see if we want anything.
On a recent four hour flight we were served sips of liquid sustenance in tiny cups filled with ice and tossed small bags of pretzels. It reminded me of the little cups of juice that accompany bland, starchy hospital meals.
However, DH and I did find a source of comfort on this flight, but we may have detracted from the experience for those immediately around us. We listened to comedy on the "complimentary satellite radio".
I don't know if it was because we were hopped up on ginger ale, pretzels, and high altitude, but we both got really hysterical while listening to Seinfeld, followed by Jeff Foxworthy - an interesting lineup. DH got carried away first and started that crying kind of laughter. He was trying to muffle it and just teared up all the more. This got me going, but thankfully I was in the window seat and could giggle and choke into the corner. Finally, I tossed my jacket over DH's head to shield his contorted hysterical face from other passengers who were starting to turn and look.
Whew! I miss the old days when we all had to watch the same mediocre movies together. At least we could commiserate as a plane-trapped community.
DH and I finally got some self-control back. And while the plane slowly taxied up to the airport after the flight, and the temperature rose to an uncomfortable level, a flight attendant announced for all passengers to "please lower your window shade to keep the cabin cool and comfortable for the next flight".
Ha! Maybe some A/C or a new compressor would be more effective?
And next time, I'll remember that Dramamine, airplane snacks, and Seinfeld are a dangerous cocktail.
Disclaimer: The above is my not so humble opinion and personal experience and is not intended to reflect the subjective experience of other airline passengers. It is also meant to be mildly entertaining and not necessarily wholly factual. I understand that the airline industry provides us with a very valuable service and has a tremendous responsibility to the public. I realize that the cost cutting efforts that airlines employ are in order to keep air travel affordable.
7/31/2008: Encounters with Bloated Egos
You know, some people value humility as a virtue. Some of us even get through life fairly well while stunted by a modest self-esteem. At the very least, most of us begin to realize as we become more mature (somewhere between 5 and 19), that the world does not revolve around us - even if we sometimes forget this wisdom while we are behind the wheel of a car.
Then there are others. Those whose sense of self-importance has somehow become bloated out of proportion. Either that or they just cannot reconcile themselves to the fact that they are not the center of the universe.
I encountered a few of those people this week. My spouse and I attended a conference at a nice beach resort. We flew out of a nearby small, regional airport and then changed planes in Atlanta and flew on to our south Florida destination.
While waiting for our puddle-jumper at the regional airport, we were forced to listen to a know-it-all doom and gloomer. He was on the far side of middle age and stood with his back against the wall near the gate. He was spouting his years of collected expertise to a man next to him and to anyone else within earshot - which was almost everyone in that small airport.
He was apparently an ex-flyer or mechanic. He talked on and on about all the terrible things that are going on the airline industry today. He advised his quiet new friend that the safest place to sit on an airplane was above the wings. He gave a quick lesson in aerodynamics and flight emergencies. He told a charming anecdote about flying next to a woman who was ridiculous and naive enough to think there were holes in the wings when she saw the flaps down. He boasted that he could close his eyes on a flight and tell EVERY MOVE the pilot and co-pilot were making.
And, of course, he knew when they were making wrong moves.
I have to tell you, thinking he was flying with us made me feel so much more comfortable once I discovered he was actually on another flight.
Then I ran into, almost literally, another person of the-world-better-pay-me-homage persuasion at the resort. We had a free afternoon and were heading to the beach, coming down the elevator in a 6 floor hotel. As the elevator doors opened on the ground floor, a woman in beach attire rushed the doors. She almost ran straight into me. Now, I could be mistaken, but I thought elevator etiquette required that you let passengers off before you step onto the elevator. So why did she roll her eyes and let out a short, exasperated snort when she had to pause for me and other passengers to get out of her way? I mean, she's at a resort, in a bathing suit, coming from the beach or pool, and she only had to wait for the elevator to come down 5 floors - at the most. Are you late for your afternoon dose, lady?
Then, on our flight back, there was "The World's Most Important Mom" (WMIM). As the plane touched down and we were given permission to use our cell phones, she immediately made 4 or 5 phone calls in about 3 minutes. The first was to the individual who was supposed to meet her at the airport. She apparently believed she was important enough that she shouldn't be made to wait at all, because this individual was informed that if he "left the house now" he would be there by the time she got her bags. I want to assume this was her husband, but there was no "Hi Honey" or "thank you" or "love you". Just the terse info that "We just landed" and that he should leave the house now.
She then made her second call, but did not get an answer. So she immediately called a third number and said, "Are you talking to my daughter?" World's-Most-Important-Mom then relayed to her seatmate that the reply had been, "I was."
She then calls her daughter back and says, without any preliminary greeting, "YOU need to get your priorities straight! Your mother is more important than your boyfriend."
Sitting in the seat in front of her and overhearing this (I couldn't help it - she was talking so importantly.) I almost laughed aloud. What alternate universe does she live in? Seriously, does she really think her daughter should dutifully cut off any and all calls from her boyfriend so as not to miss the announcement call from her beloved mother that she had just touched down at the airport?!? This daughter wasn't even the one ordered to meet her at baggage claim after all! She was just being notified that her all important and beloved mother had arrived on the tarmac! "WMIM" didn't even give her daughter two seconds to call Mommy-dearest back before she got the boyfriend on the line to make sure he was not interfering in her attempt to contact her daughter the instant the plane touched the ground.
Wow! She's really bloated! I think if this girl were a teen, any normal mom would have been thrilled if she just got an acknowledgement when she walked in the door at home.
And if you are thinking maybe she had something important going on; just remember, she was on a flight from south Florida and obviously heading home. She was tan and traveling with her quiet female seatmate. It seems like the separate vacation did nobody any good.
Then there are others. Those whose sense of self-importance has somehow become bloated out of proportion. Either that or they just cannot reconcile themselves to the fact that they are not the center of the universe.
I encountered a few of those people this week. My spouse and I attended a conference at a nice beach resort. We flew out of a nearby small, regional airport and then changed planes in Atlanta and flew on to our south Florida destination.
While waiting for our puddle-jumper at the regional airport, we were forced to listen to a know-it-all doom and gloomer. He was on the far side of middle age and stood with his back against the wall near the gate. He was spouting his years of collected expertise to a man next to him and to anyone else within earshot - which was almost everyone in that small airport.
He was apparently an ex-flyer or mechanic. He talked on and on about all the terrible things that are going on the airline industry today. He advised his quiet new friend that the safest place to sit on an airplane was above the wings. He gave a quick lesson in aerodynamics and flight emergencies. He told a charming anecdote about flying next to a woman who was ridiculous and naive enough to think there were holes in the wings when she saw the flaps down. He boasted that he could close his eyes on a flight and tell EVERY MOVE the pilot and co-pilot were making.
And, of course, he knew when they were making wrong moves.
I have to tell you, thinking he was flying with us made me feel so much more comfortable once I discovered he was actually on another flight.
Then I ran into, almost literally, another person of the-world-better-pay-me-homage persuasion at the resort. We had a free afternoon and were heading to the beach, coming down the elevator in a 6 floor hotel. As the elevator doors opened on the ground floor, a woman in beach attire rushed the doors. She almost ran straight into me. Now, I could be mistaken, but I thought elevator etiquette required that you let passengers off before you step onto the elevator. So why did she roll her eyes and let out a short, exasperated snort when she had to pause for me and other passengers to get out of her way? I mean, she's at a resort, in a bathing suit, coming from the beach or pool, and she only had to wait for the elevator to come down 5 floors - at the most. Are you late for your afternoon dose, lady?
Then, on our flight back, there was "The World's Most Important Mom" (WMIM). As the plane touched down and we were given permission to use our cell phones, she immediately made 4 or 5 phone calls in about 3 minutes. The first was to the individual who was supposed to meet her at the airport. She apparently believed she was important enough that she shouldn't be made to wait at all, because this individual was informed that if he "left the house now" he would be there by the time she got her bags. I want to assume this was her husband, but there was no "Hi Honey" or "thank you" or "love you". Just the terse info that "We just landed" and that he should leave the house now.
She then made her second call, but did not get an answer. So she immediately called a third number and said, "Are you talking to my daughter?" World's-Most-Important-Mom then relayed to her seatmate that the reply had been, "I was."
She then calls her daughter back and says, without any preliminary greeting, "YOU need to get your priorities straight! Your mother is more important than your boyfriend."
Sitting in the seat in front of her and overhearing this (I couldn't help it - she was talking so importantly.) I almost laughed aloud. What alternate universe does she live in? Seriously, does she really think her daughter should dutifully cut off any and all calls from her boyfriend so as not to miss the announcement call from her beloved mother that she had just touched down at the airport?!? This daughter wasn't even the one ordered to meet her at baggage claim after all! She was just being notified that her all important and beloved mother had arrived on the tarmac! "WMIM" didn't even give her daughter two seconds to call Mommy-dearest back before she got the boyfriend on the line to make sure he was not interfering in her attempt to contact her daughter the instant the plane touched the ground.
Wow! She's really bloated! I think if this girl were a teen, any normal mom would have been thrilled if she just got an acknowledgement when she walked in the door at home.
And if you are thinking maybe she had something important going on; just remember, she was on a flight from south Florida and obviously heading home. She was tan and traveling with her quiet female seatmate. It seems like the separate vacation did nobody any good.
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