Lip Service Moving Co.

My favourite thing to do when helping people move is making comments on their stuff.  I figure I am there breaking my back to move their furniture and boxes, going up and down stairs, sweating like crazy, I think it is only fair to be able to ask: 

"Hey!  Why do you have this book on Satan's War?"

Most people have pretty normal stuff and that is why I think it is okay to make comments on the out of the ordinary.  The general assumption is that they are normal people, but as is the case with most, there are going to be items which are a bit strange.  Why not joke about them to lighten the mood?  

A classic one is antiques.  An antique sewing machine which is never going to be used but is an heirloom from a great great aunt.  Heavier than a whale and so awkward.  Yeah, the best place to lift it is at the base because everywhere else is not so secure.  I am lifting this behemoth up from the basement to the moving truck only to lift it down to another basement where it will sit for years and years.

But I am not supposed to judge.  I am just there to help.  Phooey!  They are my muscles, my sweat, my back pain, so therefore they get my comments!  And I am not being mean.  I am not making fun of their serious looking ancestors from the 1900s in the photos in the gigantic frames.  (Unless they give the go-ahead of course.)  Lady in the rabbit costume.  What's that about?

Personally, I have so much junk.  I would expect someone to be relentless if they were helping me move.  Like we need all these DVDs, all this cardboard, all these Christmas totes. (Sorry, honey.  Couldn't resist)

Don't get me wrong.  I am not rifling through people's stuff.  I do have rules.  It has to be anything I can see.  If the tote is see-through, it's fair game.  

- What do you guys eat with that giant wooden fork and spoon?
- Why do you have three vacuum cleaners?
- When are you are going to repair that table saw?
- Why is this home gym so dusty?
- Did you save the box for these stupid A glasses for a reason?
- You could probably throw this tote out.  It's totally hammered.
- Was this hole in this painting here before?
- Why did you use your biggest box for hard-back books?
- Why do you have hard-back books? 
- Did this sofa grow since you put it down here or did you build the house around it?
- Why are those people sitting there not helping?
- So all these items not boxed up, did you want me to do that?
- What is in this treasure chest like thing?  Nothing?  Wow.
- Please tell me this fold-out couch is going to Good Will.

Salting The Wounds of Loyalty

The American way.  So many small businesses want to grow and become larger than life.  Normally, I applaud this sort of thing.  I want people to achieve their goals and dreams.  I want people to be rich.  I want them to be successful.  If they have a great product, by all means, go for it.  

The problem though is when they start going corporate, change things and it affects me in a bad way. 

I do not expect much from restaurants.  Fast food burger joints especially.  Like, I get that they have an OCD person who is in charge of salting the fries.  He walks past, salts them, looks at his watch, salts them, adjusts his hair net, salts them.  As I am driving away, I think "I could have salted them myself.  Can't we just have that option?  This is disgusting."  But I'll eat every one of them...

Also, after years of fast food joints not getting orders right, we always check our food before we drive off to make sure it is all there.  That's what I expect.  For cheap, fast food, that's the service we are paying for.  Someone who is that fast is going to be inaccurate.  And if the person was really accurate, they would screw it all up and promote them to management.

So, there is this relatively new kind of restaurant I call the Stand-In-Line model.  The way it works is that you wait forever in a line as if you are waiting to get on a roller-coaster.  Only instead of getting thrills from sharp turns and corkscrews, you get a major taste explosion from some amazing quality food.

That's the argument.  When they were first pitching the idea to investors, I am sure the question came up: 

      Why would I stand and wait in line that long for food?  

And the answer must have come back as:

      It is because you have never had a food experience this good before.

While I must admit that the food is good at these types of places, I have to wonder if I am being fooled a bit.  The one common theme I have seen is what I call 

"The Illusion of Health".  

These Stand-In-Line places will have 2500 to 3000 calorie meals, but yet they make it seem like everything is so fresh and healthy.  A hamburger will have South American Romaine and Lechuvia Pickles on a Gorgonzola bun.  The fact that I just ate a pound of red meat hardly matters when I am getting the health benefits of Lavender Onions and goat cheese.

So I pay a little more for this Illusion of Health, wait a little longer for my food and feel like I am on the cusp of my generation's hip and happening consumption system.

So how can this Stand-In-Line thing possibly go wrong?  

1. As I stand there, I can see them preparing everything.  It is all right in front of our faces, so they should not be able to screw it up as long as they stay on task.

I do not want to see their people standing around doing nothing, because at that moment I am standing around doing nothing.  As one who tries to take a lot of information in, I am watching them.  I got nothing better to do.  I could look at my phone for the 406th time today or I can watch the strange foraging habits of the native Stand-In-Line restaurant technician.  And the guy I am seeing is doing everything he can to keep from working.  He is yelling across to other workers and making snide comments to them.  In all the time I have been in line, this guy has done no work.  They are messing with my trust.

2. It takes a lot to do take-out.  I am putting my arm around the shoulders of this company and welcoming them into my home.  I introduce the food to my daughters and they better be respectful.  When I take my food home and get uncooked rice, they have stabbed me in the back.  Uncooked rice.  No one I know has ever done uncooked rice.  That has to be the greatest restaurant sin ever.  That is right up there with under-cooked hamburger.

All those other people in line with me got uncooked rice too.  How does this happen?  Maybe that guy standing around yelling gibberish to the other employees needs to be checking food quality.  Sit him down with the current menu items and make sure it's all up to sauce.  That guy may gain weight, but at least he is doing something now.  And the restaurant didn't just piss off 50 people.

3. They must think they are too big to fail.  I guess all the hordes of people who continue to be there night after night are telling them it doesn't matter if the culture is good or not, if the quality is good or not.  However, I am thinking that these customers are on the tail end of the hysteria.  Many of my acquaintances have given up, so what is left is the remaining people who still had good memories of a quality product.

I am still part of that group, because I do remember them being great.  But these companies are in such a hurry to lose me and others.  Why?  What did I do?  I just want to enjoy your product as it was for so many years.

It is as if they have turned some corner and can no longer provide good experiences.  They are too busy catering large events and not putting their focus where it needs to be, in the restaurant, making the culture and food good.

If it comes down to this Stand-In-Line experience being no different than the fast food experience, what choice is there?  If you take away the Illusion of Health, I am left with a long line which is more akin to the DMV.

Old Faithful Geezer

We just got back from Orangestone National Park.  It was really awesome.  Half a day is hardly enough time to be there.  We saw Old Faithful erupt a couple times.  I felt good that people clapped after it finished.  It makes more sense to clap there than it does in movie theaters...

We walked around this Prismatic geyser one too where the colours were out of this world, but the experience was not just in the colouring.  There would be these waves of steam that would overtake us.  And it was late enough in the day to be a little chilly too.  So there would be a chill wind.  Then, hot steam.  Chill wind.  Hot steam.  Then, it started raining on us.  Lightning in the distance.  And soon after that was hail.  What an experience!

I sort of wonder what the special effects crews just have to do to make these national parks so fun.  To build up that much steam, there must be quite a large generator buried under the mountain.  The previous day while floating in a raft, we saw a moose crossing the river with its baby.  As we were passing it and looking back I was picturing some guy behind the scenes holding the moose and its baby in a pen and releasing them at just the right time.  

And the moose looked so real.  How do they do that?

Roommate Number 4

I guess we needed the money so we decided to get a fourth roommate.  Her name is Brindley.  We went with another girl.  I think the hope was that girls are generally cleaner.  They are more likely to put their dishes in the dishwasher, keep the noise level down, and squat when they go to the bathroom.

It has been a few days since she got here and it is a little weird.  For one, she sleeps in the living room on a special bed.  We tried to tell her that we had more rooms in the basement, but she was adamant about being where everyone else is.

So far the other roommates have mixed feelings about the newest one.  Number 2 really keeps her distance from Brindley.  It could be a jealousy thing, competitive thing or just a fear thing.  We want things to be civil so we ask them to coordinate their schedules as best they can.  I have seen this kind of thing before and I am sure if we give it time, they will end up being best friends.

Number 3 and Brindley are practically inseparable.  Maybe it is because they are closer in age, but those two girls really hit it off.  You can see it on their faces when they get up in the morning.  They know how to cheer each other up.  

Number 1 roommate is a guy so he plays it cool, but I think he wants to be involved with her life just like everyone else.

Everyone in the neighborhood has been really friendly with the new roommate.  When they see her on the street, they all immediately come rushing over to meet her. People get out of their cars to come talk to her.  One would think we had a celebrity living with us.

So we will see how it goes.  I am sure just like any other roommate, she has her good habits and her bad habits.  

However, I am a little doubtful on the noise thing.  Kind of a high pitched voice.  And when she gets mad about something, everyone in the house knows it...

Who Says I Can't Accessorize?

Where I work has this rule about wearing lanyards.  If we work there, we must wear a light green lanyard around our necks.  It is not a comfortable lanyard.  Sure, if I have a collared shirt, it is okay, but I am a developer.  We wear T-Shirts.  Geek T-Shirts even.

My wife made me an awesome lanyard.  Dark blue.  Star Wars material on the front sewn on.  To top it off, she put in a pen holder.  It is comfortable on my neck.  I absolutely love it.  

I started wearing this new lanyard instead of the company one.  They were so jealous of my new lanyard.  They start noticing my disobedience.  I get brought up in meetings.  They know me by name.  The guy with the cool Star Wars lanyard is making trouble.  I try to defy them, but the pressure gets pretty high.

What do I do?  I have to think of something.  How do I make everyone happy including myself?

Then, it hits me.  At Mardi Gras, does one only wear one set of beads?  No.  They wear as many as they can... to celebrate!

So I wear them both.  One to make them happy.  One to make me happy.  And both to make someone in charge think:  "Are you kidding me?!  Now we have to come up with an additional rule stating that only one color lanyard can be worn at a time and it has to be the chosen color?"  

I am keeping my lanyards crossed that this does not happen...

Correction Collection Connection

I want a collection of something interesting!  I have a friend who used to collect PEZ dispensers.  My sister used to collect back issues of X-Men comic books. My Grandma collects Barbies and succulents. My Dad collected baseball cards and Mad Magazines.

I actually have something that I collect which is not very interesting, but I have sort of made it my thing.  There is this store called Pop N Sweets and they have quite a lot of different styles of Root Beer.  Tons of different labels.  So as I try out the different brands, I save the bottles.

Most of them are good.  As long as they taste like A&W or Dads or Barq's they generally pass the standard taste test.  It is the ones that deviate that are the most fun.  Having one that tastes like honey has been interesting.  Or having a heavy foam is unique.  Some are really dry which is cool.  I love the variety. 

I really dig some of the labels.  Dark bottle seems to be the way to go.  They typically have good names and a real traditional feel to them.  

So where do I display this collection of Root Beer?  At work.  In my cubicle along the top of the wall, there is glass on one end and a little shelf on the other.  My side has the shelf.  

I still do not really have that many, maybe 20.  But growing up, I never knew there were so many brands.  I knew about Dads, A&W, Mug, Barq's, IBC.  Those were pretty much it.  Now I see Route 66, Cap'n Eli's, Frostop, Dog n Suds, Capone, etc.

I realize this is incredibly nerdy, childish, prudish, just everything imaginable.  I am practically totally embarrassed to have it up there.  It labels me as such a dork.  I could see walking by some other guy's cubicle with this arrangement and asking this question:

Does he think that having a bunch of Root Beer bottles somehow makes him original and cool?

All I can answer to that is that I love Root Beer, collections are fun and I didn't have a place at home to display it without it looking really tacky....

Thank You Discards

I guess I am not very good at Thank You cards.  It has taken me 45 years to figure that out.  Not bad.  The way it is looking my kids are not going to be very good at them either.

What is so hard about gathering all your presents together, remembering who gave you what, writing down all their names, getting all their addresses, buying $200 worth of stamps, buying stationery, writing out how the item has benefited your life in a non-sarcastic tone, making it legible and getting them out before 12 months are up?

Easy!

Can we send Thank You Emails?  How about Thank You Text messages?  No.  It has to be a card.  A small card in a small envelope with a small stamp.

Thank You cards were part of a different generation, a much more formal generation.  They did not have all the things we have now.  We have way too much going on.  How would I fit in writing a Thank You card today? 

I give a verbal Thank You to the gift-giver, looking them in the eye.  That is enough, right?

In fact, I write a whole slew of virtual Thank You cards to others on facebook every day.  For example, if Aunt Suzy got me a bike for my birthday, I would want her to see that I am out riding that bike.  What better way than to show a picture of me riding that bike all over town?  Or in this case, all over Maui, Hawaii.  Or St Thomas in the Virgin Islands.  Or even Disney World.  True, I cannot ride my bike in Disney World, but I can show you that my bike helped me get there.  And everyone can see all the great places that my new bike is helping me to get to.   

So why take the time to thank others in that old fashioned way when I can say thank you in my new way?

Then again, I really do wish I would write Thank You cards every time someone gave me a gift.  I think it is a fun idea.  

Since I did not thank the people with a card previously, I have compiled a list of things which I am truly grateful for. These things come through again and again:

• Years ago, my Mom made me a gigantic, super heavy quilt out of old Levis.  It still resides in our freezing basement to alleviate the chill.  Thanks, Mom.
• My Dad gave me Grandpa's chop saw which comes in handy every time I have to actually build something.  Thanks, Dad and Grandpa.  My Dad also helped me put up the Christmas lights one year and somehow I dropped the ladder on his head.  Thanks for the help, Dad.  (Should we do Sorry cards too?)
• My wife gave me a leatherman pocket knife, which I use for trimming the weed whacker line.  It's small.  I mostly just use it for that one thing, but it is perfect for that.  Also she made me a really cool Star Wars lanyard with a pen holder.  Thanks, honey.  Oh, and she gave me three beautiful children too!
• My sister gave us some awesome Star Wars pillowcases.  All different designs.  In fact she gave my kids some jammies with Star Wars iron-ons years and years ago.  My son still wears his.  The pants are up to his knees. The iron-on is totally faded.  Thanks, M.
• My Grandma bought us a welcome mat ten years ago for my apartment and it sits at the base of our stairs in our garage now.  Always there.  Always useful.  Always dirty.  Thanks, Grandma.
• My friend, T, gave me a little portable, fold-up plastic fence, which has had so many uses over the years, I can hardly even think what I would do without it.  Thanks, T.
• My Aunt K bought my kids this book called The Goodnight Train and it is my favourite book to read to them at night.  Thanks, Aunt K.
• My Aunt M gave me this little lap thing which has padding on one side and a hard surface on the other.  One can use the hard surface to write on.  I still have it to this day.  Thanks, Aunt M.  (I wonder if she was thinking I would use it to write her a Thank You card...)

Passing On Words of Wisdom

"You guys all have younger siblings, right?  Let's say you are going away for awhile and you may not see them for some time.  Why don't you write down on this sheet of paper some things you would like to say to your younger brothers or sisters before you go?"

This was part of a lesson I was teaching to some 11 and 12 year olds at church.  Naturally, I was trying to draw out of them a desire to pass on some wisdom, help their siblings get through the years by giving spiritual advice.  But I didn't tell them it had to be anything specific.

After they finished writing down their words of wisdom, what was the common theme said among all of them?

(Anyone who has had or has now boys of this age probably knows the answer to this question.  I had no idea.)  

"STAY AWAY FROM MY STUFF!!!!"

That is the funniest thing I have heard all week.  That just caught me so off guard.  Imagine they are about to leave for a few years or so, not seeing their family for that long and all they can think of is that their stuff is protected.  Nothing like: 

• Listen to Mom and Dad
• Do good in school
• Help out people when they need it.
• Say your prayers

 Instead it is:

• Stay out of my Legos
• Don't touch my comic books
• Keep away from my bike.
• My room is off limits

Don't get me wrong.  These kids are really top-notch.  They really impress me with their knowledge of things, their perceptions of people and what is right and wrong.  I love the answer though because it is honest.

Now, I am trying to think if I was the same way as a kid.  Was I very concerned about my stuff?  I must have been, but I don't remember being that concerned about it.

The textbook probably reads: 
"... and then the child grows into a Value stage where the items in their possession take on a different life.  They become valuable to a degree which is practically nonsensical.  The items seem to float around the child's room allowing the child to envision doing amazing feats with or by the aid of the item.  A collection of rocks may be fashioned into a key which opens gates to a new world.  A set of first edition books with autographs will one day be on display in a museum.  
No matter how far-fetched the illusion is, the dream of the child is what is at stake here.  They must believe in their item and keep it near their hearts until it is time to relinquish..."

I am still trying to think of anything that I have right now which I value in this way.  I guess I do not like my kids touching my phone.  But I think that is just common sense.  Kids break stuff.  

Aha!  These boys are starting to see themselves as adults.  And their siblings are still children.  If we view these boys as adults, it changes everything.

Adults definitely want their kids out of their comic books and other valuable things.  I have plenty of friends with very nice bikes that they will not let their kids near.  Lego Movie showed that adults want kids out of their Legos too.  
    
And there are times when we want kids to stay out of our room...    

Man or Mouse. Are These the Only Options?

I will not eat them with a house.
I will not eat them on a mouse.

Aughhh!  Everywhere we look there is a reminder that our house has a mouse in it.  

My wife had a nightmare and screamed out in her sleep.  The next morning she said that she dreamed she saw the mouse only it was the size of a wombat and it lunged at her with big huge teeth and bulging eyes.

We were watching Milificent the other night with the kids downstairs and our little buddy just decided to meander in to see what we were all doing.  He just walked right in.  I think I heard him say in his little mousy voice: "Do you think we could watch Mickey and the Beanstalk instead?"

Naturally, we freaked.  My wife screamed.  The kids jumped.  What an outrage.  After all, Mickey and the Beanstalk is so old and dated.  Still a classic, but when we have Angelina Jolie with wings.  Now that is hot!  So there was no way we were switching movies.

Then, I had the duty to go chase after Nicky Mouse.  But I had to go slow enough to make sure that I did not really see where he went.  After all, what do I do if I actually corner him?  Grab him with my bare hands and squeeze him to death?  Yell to my son to go grab a broom so I can awkwardly swat at him with it?  Trap him in a box so I can feed him to a fox?

But I choose the cowardly way out.  I set traps and hope that the spring mechanism will end his life.  That way, if there is ever some sort of rodent rebellion and I am on trial, I can blame the industrial revolution.  I could say that I was not even sure what the trap would do.  I thought the metal bar might just grab their tail and hold on to him, so that I could find him a new home.  I know it's a stretch.

Actually, a box might not be a bad idea.  Then I could release him into the wild.  He could go out and live in the backyard or find someone else's house to terrorize.  

I wonder if it would be too weird to drive Nicky up to the mountains and then release him up there.  He probably wouldn't fare too well after being domesticated.  He would not have the comfort of stale Goldfish, Top Ramen and Corn Chex anymore.  More than likely, he would be someone else's dinner.  

Wait a minute!  I would be feeding him to a fox.

All Work And No Play Makes Daddy Tough To Watch Movies With

I had my kids watch an old time monster movie with me today.  I wondered if they were old enough to be watching it with me.  They were on the edge of their seats...  Not because they were scared though.  It was because I kept grabbing them to cover their eyes at the scary parts.  They kept pushing me away wanting to watch.

Meanwhile, I am thinking: This was a bad idea.  I figured my oldest would be fine and the younger two would just busy themselves in the toy room or playing dolls or whatever.  But no.  They were transfixed.  They had to watch every second.  It is like my kids sensed my aura and they had to know what all the concern was about.  So they are watching all these suspenseful scenes probably thinking to themselves: What is Dad so worried about?  These scenes are stupid.  I get more suspense when my Dad holds his hands above me to tickle me...

They say that dogs sense when their owners get stressed out.  And the dog owner is usually stressed out because their dog is about to get eaten by a much larger more aggressive dog that is running full speed towards them.  So then the dog reacts in harmony with its owner and starts attacking this approaching dog.  And it is like this whole self-fulfilling prophecy thing.

How would it work then to not be stressed out as a large dog comes full speed at your dog?  Just breathe.  Not going to worry about it.  Count to ten.  Bark is worse than his bite.  Even though his bite is really going to loosen some cartilage.  Zen moment.  Slow the heartbeat down.  Just keep walking.  Act like nothing is wrong at all.  There he is.  See?  Just sniffing my dog's butt.  Nothing to worry about...

Who does this?  How do you not freak out?

So here I am with my kids and I could just take the approach that the people who let me watch The Shining at age nine took.  No big deal.  Hey kids.  That kid talking to his finger is perfectly normal.  Riding through the hotel on a tricycle all by yourself looks like a lot of fun.  Pay no attention to the guy dressed in the bear costume.

No.  I didn't let my kids watch The Shining!  Are you kidding me?!!!  

Do They Deliver?

While thinking about my old friends from high school I was wondering about trying to get together with them and what sort of venue would work for that.  Obviously, meeting at someone's house for a weekend would not work.  We would not have enough Style Council albums...  Or even getting together at a beach house for a weekend with our families would not be suitable.  What would be fun for all of us?

How about a camping trip?  Four guys getting together and having an adventure.  Now that could be fun.  Could be.  Let me think.  

What if we got a couple canoes and headed down a river?  We used to head down the Colorado River together a couple times when we were young in the really flat area around Blythe.  That could work. We could pack up our 5 Gallon buckets.  We could camp along the way.  Hopefully, Jacob is not spraying people with bug spray from the rooftops.

What if we went to a new spot?  Somewhere maybe in the south like Tennessee? Or West Virginia?  Or Georgia?  If we could find one where they are damming up a river, that could be really challenging...  


We would anticipate just a little fun on a totally unknown river with possibly massive rapids that would crush an aluminum canoe into two.  But it would have to be canoes.  We couldn't take a nice blow up style raft or anything...

One of the guys in our group is a musician.  He could bring his guitar and that would provide some entertainment.  Maybe do some jamming with some of the local folk down there.  Aren't they big on banjos around those parts?  I could be stereotyping.  Of course I am.

We have another guy who is an outdoorsman.  A good common sense type guy who can hold his own with some of the wildlife.  He could bring his bow and arrows.  We would feel pretty safe around him as long as he stayed healthy.  I am counting on this guy staying in his canoe, not getting tossed against the rocks and having a bone sticking out of his leg for the remainder of the trip while he lays unconscious.

We also have a fairly normal guy who everyone likes and gets along with.  He is tough.  If you push him to the limit he will fight back.  If someone was up on the cliff shooting down on us, he could climb out of the canyon and take him out.  This is all hypothetical of course.  

But then there is Bobby.  And I am the only one left.  I don't want to be Bobby!  Maybe this is not such a good idea...

Scotts

Some people like to find the positive in any situation.  No matter how bad things might be they would be able to spin it and make those around them feel inspired.  If they were trapped in an elevator with 20 others that person is able to overcome it by keeping their chin up, smiling, having a good attitude, not complaining.  That person would probably start singing and leading others to sing too.  Before they knew it, the elevator would be moving again and the other passengers might even be sad that the ordeal was over, because that person would no longer be part of their lives in such an intimate setting.

While I certainly admire that person for their courage in insurmountable situations such as this, I do not think I am typically that guy.  It is not that I do not want to be that guy.  Being a hero is fundamentally our greatest goal.  

I think my role is typically to find the humour in situations such as this and sort of snicker to myself about it.  If my buddies from high school were there, we could make snide and sarcastic remarks to each other about the elevator, those in the elevator and anything else we could think of.  But since they are now very far away, I would not be able to count on that ever really occurring.   Perhaps my buddies do not enjoy the same level of wit and immaturity we once did as we poked fun at everything we possibly could.

And I suppose I always have that as a memory to fall back on.  No matter what situation, I am in, it can be funny thinking about myself and my high school buddies being at that age where we think we are so dang funny that nothing escapes us.  Everything gets a comment.

I am sure those guys have all moved on.  They are still funny, but they do not have the same goal to try to outdo others in being the funniest guy in the room.  We did have a sort of competition at the time.  Scott 1 had the most pure humour.  He operated from a real great observation point.  We all looked up to Scott 1 as the leader of the group.  He had the most genuine approach to funny situations.  He rarely offended people and was just really cool.

Scott 2 was really funny also, but he had a much more negative approach.  Sometimes, it would get a little daunting.  His humour was so spot-on though that as long as one didn't take oneself too seriously, one would be okay.

Scott 3a was not funny per se, but every once in awhile he would get there.  Kind of a normal friend.  

Scott 3b on the other hand brought a very intellectual humour to the group.  I think that sort of evolution helped us to keep things rolling, so it was not just about tearing people down anymore.  Or if we were, the subtlety of doing it could be communicated through lifted eyebrows or other gestures which may not have been noticed.

These guys had great delivery, but they would write humour really well too.  Being able to express themselves really well was easy for them.

People talk about being in the presence of greatness when they speak of past presidents or celebrities or business people.  But I have to say that I got really lucky in being in the midst of such clever, witty, and funny guys.  It really set the bar high and I am still trying to get there.

But back to the elevator.  Probably the funniest part would be that everyone would all still be stuck looking in the same direction not speaking to each other.  Maybe it would be best to start singing something.  Humming the tune to Elevator Man by Oingo Boingo.  I doubt anyone else would know it though...  Who's going down?

Just How Far Have We Rolled

The other day I told my kid to roll up her window.  There is that part of me that finds it amusing that we still use the term "roll up" when it comes to car windows.  Like "hanging up" the phone or the phone is "ringing".  Telling time hearkens back to a day of reading the hands of a clock.  Firing up the modem and hearing its squeal is another good memory of an older, less civil time.

All of these ideas make me think of just how far we have come...

I am a little torn on power windows.  I kind of miss rolling up my window myself by turning the window handle.  It was a quick motion that I could do.  I never once said to myself: "I am so tired of rolling up and down my stupid window!  When are they going to invent something that makes this job easier?!!!"  

It takes the same amount of time for the window to go up and down when rolling it than it does when pushing the button.  In fact, I think it is even slower now.  There I am looking at my watch as my window slowly makes its way up.  I am staring at the window in disbelief as I say: "Don't mind me.  I have got nowhere else to be..."  At least with the handle I felt like I was getting somewhere.  If it went slow, I was the one to blame.

In all fairness to the power window consortium I have to say that as a driver I can simultaneously control all the windows in the car from one arm rest control panel.  That helps cancel out the loss of the rolling up and down muscle in my arm...  If only there was a way to still have that handle and the control panel.  The best of both worlds.

However, the one that is really killing me right now, the one that sends me into convulsive fits of tiny rage, the one that makes me stop and think that I need to be a good example for my kids even though I am ready to take a baseball bat to the mechanism ... is the power doors.

THE POWER DOORS

Ha! It is a little ironic that they call them Power Doors.  How about Emasculation Doors?  How about I Am On My Own Time And I Do Not Care If You Are Trying To Get Somewhere In A Hurry Doors?  Or even I Do Not Feel Like Working Today Doors?

The first couple times, it was a little cute.  There I am showing off our awesome automatic doors.  I pull the handle and then it does the rest. Yeah!  I am just like everyone else.  I do not even have to watch it close.  I know it will close, because it is automatic and it works and it is convenient and I don't have to do any work and it is like a robot and it is so gentle and slow and... and... 

I THINK I AM GOING OUT OF MY FREAKIN' MIND!!!!!!  WHAT IN THE WORLD WAS I THINKING?!!!  THIS ISN'T BETTER!!!!

What this has done is it has caused me to think back.  Like rolling up the windows, I think: What did we used to do?  Let me see.  With doors, we used to open them.  Maybe sometimes, a little hard, but it opened and it worked.  And it worked all the time.  And then, we shut them.  Maybe we didn't shut them all the way, but then we would do it again.  And we learned how to shut them just right.  But it was instantaneous.  It didn't meander along to its own little song.  It was a Whoosh!  Done.  Over.  Get out, everyone!

Now I am thinking: Did we go too far?  Can we get back the non-power doors?  Did our stupid, button pushing, I can't do anything for myself society push this on us to the point of no return?  Can we go back?  My vehicle now is doomed (and so am I for the time being), but maybe the next one.... Please.

That would normally be a good spot to end, but this story goes on.  Oh yes.  We decided to get one of those push button starter vehicles.  In theory, this sounds like a great idea.  I push a button and my car starts.  I can see them pitching that idea to the executives and them just salivating at the idea...  Convenience!  So convenient!  Push a button!  That is all.  So simple.  So right.

I would love to have been there and been able to raise my hand and when called on, asked: 

+ Hold on!  What sort of key do you have to have to enable this push-button wonder?

- It would be like your standard unlock your door remote.

+ Okay, but we are talking more than just unlocking the doors, right?  Those remotes last forever.  Doesn't this new key have to run a lot more power?  Doesn't it have to detect where it is in relation to the car?

- Yes, but we have a standard replaceable battery.

+ Aha. And in order to start my car, I need to have this remote key around with a working battery?

- We would warn you if the battery was getting low.

+ So, I am a little old-fashioned.  I have a key when put in the ignition starts the car anytime, anywhere.  Now, you want me to get this new key which has to have a working battery inside it in order to start?  Any idea how long these batteries will last?

- 6 months to a year, maybe?  We do give you a warning when it gets low.

+ Yes.  You said that.  So, it would probably be a good idea to stock up on about 10 of these batteries.  Do you think maybe it would be a clever idea to have a bunch of these batteries waiting in the glove compartment for buyers of these cars?

- Oh come on!  It's just a little battery...

My Shirts Do Not Bring Me Joy

I looked down at my drawer at all my shirts.  I even arranged them the way she said so that I could see all of them.  It did not help.  My shirts do not bring me joy.

This phrase makes me laugh.  Not because it is not a good idea.  Yes, our possessions should bring us joy.  We should not be keeping things that make us miserable.  But when it comes to clothes, is it really possible to have a wardrobe filled with joy?

I have a tough time imagining this joy scenario: I am impatiently waiting out in the living room to leave on a date with my wife.  So, I go back to check on her.  There she is sitting on the floor of the closet with 4 outfits clutched in her hands, tears streaming down her face as she exclaims: "I can't decide what to wear because all my clothes bring me so much joy!!!!"

The last time I had joy in my clothing was when I was a teenager.  My buddy and I would hit the thrift stores downtown on a weekly basis looking for Hang Ten shirts.  I think I had joy in my clothes at that time. I was surrounded by all these rich kids with really nice clothes and cars and stuff.  They had bright neon surf shirts and shorts.  I would come in with green, maroon, browns, whatever, creating my own look which was based off my uncle, my buddy and other people who had an eye for what was cool but different.

Since that time, I have really only had a couple bright spots here or there.  Stay with the green.  Stay with the green.  

The other night we had people over and I pulled out an old light blue cardigan.  I sat there in it thinking: This brings me joy, but other people hate it, detest it so much, that it creates a major rift in my own joy continuum.  So I am conflicted.  I cannot make other people miserable in the process of having my own joy clothing.  But nevertheless, I sat there with it on and enjoyed feeling like a washed-out literature professor.

I also get a lot of joy out of big heavy t-shirts with pockets on them.  Why the pocket?  It can hold my glasses, my pen, my gum wrapper, etc.

And speaking of utility, my favourite work shirt is what I call the John Galt shirt.  It is a short sleeve, button down shirt with two pockets, made with durable material.  Dickies makes them.  I call them John Galt shirts, because it is the shirt I pictured the heroes (if you can call them that) wearing in Atlas Shrugged.

I suppose as I have grown older, having a joy in clothes has been fleeting.  It is hard to be anti-establishment when I have become the establishment.  I see people that dress well and I think: Yeah, that could be the way to go.  But it seems so expensive.  I spent a lot of time going through racks at thrift stores.  It took awhile to build up a good collection.  I didn't pay as much as with new, but it still took up all my money at the time.

Maybe that is the point though.  Joy, true joy, comes through hard work and diligence.  I can't just wear the old 7-11 shirt today attempting to re-live the glory days.  I have not earned it.  Not since I was sixteen.

A Disney Conversation

+ I went to the Magic Kingdom.

- What?  You went to Great Britain?  

+ No, I went to the DisneyWorld Magic Kingdom.

- Oh well, why didn't you just say that?

+ Because I didn't think I would have to.  Wait!  You think Great Britain is the Magic Kingdom?

- Well, it's a kingdom.  Got Stonehenge.  Beatles are from there.  Kind of magical...

+ But you have heard of the term "Magic Kingdom" referring to a Disney related park, right?

- I guess so.  Seems silly though.  Aren't all the Disney parks magic kingdoms?  If King Walt were still alive, he could appreciate the wonderful taxes he has been able to collect on all his subjects.  And they just love it.  He raises the taxes and they still come in droves.  That is truly magical.

+ You are pretty cynical.  I felt like it was a quality experience.  Other than the food.

- Oh yes the food.  $15 for a hamburger.  $10 for a hotdog.  But what do you do?  Starve?  Why couldn't they just go easy on the subjects in that respect?  Can't they admit that the food is terrible and not charge so much?

+ I think they think the food is top quality and worth every penny.

- How could they think that?  The employees have to eat it too while on their lunch breaks.  Do you think they brown bag it?  What?  Goofy is sneaking in apples inside his little hat?  Alice has Capri-Suns hidden in her Drink Me bottle?  Dopey has a peanut butter and jelly in his hood?  Oh no!  They are eating the same quality food as all of us and probably having to take it out of their salary. 

+ Oh, that would be awful.

- The worst part is they probably make the employees buy their own food.  At a 50% discount they are almost paying normal price for that slop.

+ You sure have a low opinion of the Disney park experience.  Sounds like you wouldn't set foot in there ever.

- Are you kidding?  We have season passes.  I go every other month.

I Need to Clear the Air... The Con-Air

I have a co-worker with some really straight hair.  Nicolas Cage in Raising Arizona came to mind.  Of course, being compared to Nicolas Cage these days is not the compliment it once was.  The co-worker brought up Con-Air and how Nicolas Cage was suddenly buff.  He went from skinny as H.I. McDunna to ripped in Con-Air.

As I walked away, I reflected on his name in Con-Air.  Cameron Poe.

Cameron Poe.

Why did that sound familiar?  Didn't I just see a movie with a character with that name? Wasn't there this amazing new blockbuster movie with...?

After I figured it out, I wondered if there could be any correlation.  Like, as they were coming up with new characters, did they think:

• We need a little more Jerry Bruckheimer in this to help offset our removal of George.
• We need a bad A ex-con whose arrest was unjustified.
• We can't give him as sweet a mullet, but he will have cool hair 
• We need his name to be off by just one letter.
• We need him to be...

I don't get it.  It must be an oversight.  Or a bad joke. Dam...

A Little Bit Louder Now. A Little Bit Louder Now...

Lately, I have been kind of loud.  In public places, I have had some loud outbursts.  It is partly because my hearing seems to be not so great.  I think about Austin Powers "having difficulty controlling the volume of my voice!"

It also has to do with social situations though.  I'm with a group of people and I want to say something, but all of us are competing to have the funniest thing to say.  And there I am with my funny quip, so I blurt it out, but then everyone in the restaurant stops and looks over at us.  The whole place has gone completely silent wondering why I just said at the top of my lungs: "Yeah!  I can't eat sushi without getting the runs!!!"

I was at church today and things are about to start and I suddenly turn to my wife and say: "Alright!  Let's do this!"  I know.  It's totally ridiculous to say that about church.  I suppose I look like I am gearing up for a city league basketball game.  Getting psyched up for the game all day long.  And now I am ready.  Let's do this!  That's why it seemed funny to me, but perhaps in my excitement, my volume was just a tad high.  

Being subtle and quiet was my approach at a much younger age.  Sarcastic comments which if no one heard was okay too.  As long as I could sit there and laugh at myself, then I was quite content.  

But life is different with a family.  It is a different role.  To be sort of obnoxious is a great way to entertain my children.

The other night my daughter brought me a Frozen book to read to her before bed.  So, I sang the pages of the book.  "Let her go!  Let her go! Don't hold her back anymore!"  I think Frozen being so contemporary and so insanely popular makes it that much more fun to mock. The whole thing is so ridiculous.  

So, my daughter laughed but didn't want the songs, so I changed it to doing the Elsa voice in a really annoying high pitched, hold your nose as you talk type voice.  This sort of gave me a different insight into it.  What if Elsa was ugly?  Would anyone care?  I know that is silly to say, because all the movies and stuff we love surround beautiful people.  And we just assume they have depth even though we only get to know them in the space of an hour or two...

But back to being loud and obnoxious.  Singing everything we are doing all day long has really caught on with my kids, especially my daughter.  And she has a pretty voice, with some actual range I think.  If Frozen teaches me nothing else, it is that everyday life is a musical.   We should sing about anything and we need to belt it out. 

- in a deep, ponderous voice -

I am folding la-aundr-dreeee.

Folding in to square - airs.

Four baskets fu-ull

Of wrinkled....

Clee-ea-een

Clo-o-o-othes. 

That's Not Funny

I recently made a statement about a movie declaring that it was the worst comedy ever.  And that it just wasn't funny.  Now of course that is completely unfair to say, especially since so many people adore this movie and have laughed at it for years.  

I suppose taking the stand against it all those years ago put me on a path which was difficult to leave.  I have not been able to find my way back.  Part of me yearns to watch the movie again and hope that I have changed, that I can see the humor in the sword fight with ski poles.  May I laugh at the Howard Cosell impression.  Oh that I can smile at Booger as he makes reference to the snow being cocaine.  Or that I can laugh at the kid who wants to be paid for delivering newspapers.

How nice it would be if I could just go along with the reverse racism of "throwing away a perfectly good white boy."  Or finding a chuckle in the French girl who mistakenly referred to the "testicles" of the octopus boy next door.  Yes, it would be much easier to admire the genius little brother who can build anything.

As one may be able to tell, I have seen this movie tons of times.  I really do want to like it.  I want to be able to see its value, that it was an important movie in my youth.

Unfortunately, it wasn't.  I cannot understand how all these people found such great laughs in a movie where the climax is a guy skiing on one ski.  Don't get me wrong.  I love John Cusack.  He is a great actor and most of the time he is spot on.  He speaks to our generation.  But in this, he just didn't.  He was so mopey and uninspired.  Does everybody really identify with that?  How did he ever get the hot girl to begin with?  I guess one could say that we caught him at the mopey phase because the hot girl left him.  Before that, he was really quite winning and charming, right?

If somebody could just make a good argument for it, then I could watch it again and maybe see it in a different light.  Maybe someone did their thesis on it.  Maybe there is an element of Shakespeare I missed somewhere.

It is an okay movie romance-wise.  I like the French girl being the mechanic and seeing them ski together is cute.  But funny?  I just don't see it.

Give me a funny line!  Give me one funny line!  Something that is funny in it.

Netflix... How Did It Come To This?

How is it that anyone actually goes for and stays with Netflix streaming?  This is the weirdest phenomenon.  People voluntarily pay money to have lame movies and old tv shows.  This would be the same thing as 20 years ago having a subscription to Hollywood Video but only being able to rent the movies whose boxes are faded by the sun.  What are we thinking?

Netflix has maybe five brand new movies that people want to see at any one time.  Avengers has been on there for a couple years, but oops!  Everyone bought it on blu-ray because it was so cheap.  And, while Jack Reacher was entertaining, I don't really want to watch it again because maybe I missed something.  I didn't.

I know a lot of people who have given up on cable or satellite tv only to opt in to Netflix and their tv antenna.  And, I understand the argument.  Why pay over $75 a month for something I don't really watch?  With satellite, things start piling up on the DVR and then, I owe the tv time because I am investing so much into it.  But I don't want to spend that much time on it.

I think there is this sweet spot with cable and satellite tv that many people are willing to accept on a monthly basis.  People would be willing to throw a certain amount out the door each month to have these services.  My thinking is that that amount is no more than $45 a month.  For $45 a month, they could have me as a customer for life.  But they don't want that.  They want to continue with their whole song and dance of $25 per month for the first year and then $75 per month thereafter.  Anyone who does even the most worthless budget is going to see how ridiculous that is.  One can only throw a $50 dollar bill in the trash so many times.

Having a family and doing things together really cuts into my tv time.  So, why have cable or satellite if I am not even there to watch it?  And once again, this goes back to the certain amount of money that I am willing to just part with each month.  

There was a time where people could not live without cable.  It was unheard of.  I think that is why Netflix appeals to people.  In a way, it is a freedom thing.  It's sticking it to the man.  It is the ability to survive outside what they said had to be.  For $20 a month, I can wait a year to watch your stupid zombie show.  Then, I will watch it all in one night.  So there!

And Netflix is ridiculous.  Things that should be on there never are.  I still make the mistake of looking for movies hoping that somehow the old Rankin-Bass Hobbit will be on there.  It isn't.  It doesn't work that way.  Instead is more like the tv we grew up with.  What's on tonight?  Well, we can either watch this old Ken Burns documentary on baseball or Free Willy 2. (For some reason, Free Willy is nowhere to be found.)  Or we can watch The Terminator for the millionth time.  Or Star Trek Deep Space Nine.  That is what tv was like when I was growing up, surfing through the channels settling on the best of the worst...

What it comes down to is that we have essentially given up.  We realized that tv has nothing to offer us in any form.  But since we have gigantic tv's and our kids need to watch something, we choose the cheapest option, Netflix.  And who knows?  Every once in awhile, we may catch a gem here or there.