Tis the Season To Be... Pestered

It is the most wonderful time of year. Every day our mailbox is full. Long ago, forgotten people are reaching out to me on the phone. Emails are coming my way. The radio is just full of those wonderful jingles.

Yes, it's election time.

People are all worked up. Celebrities are everywhere. I'm supposed to vote. I'm supposed to care. There are people counting on me. They are counting on my attitude. On my belief. On my core. On my money. They need me. I can hear them calling like Sauron for the ring. "I seeeeee you!"

I can no longer sit and listen. It is time to act. It is time to vote.

And I will cast my vote for...

I can't help it. I really don't care. When I look at any politician, the whole idea just sickens me. Can't we just vote for a robot or some composite being? Or even a rock? A good rock could be steady. A rock is never going to let me down. Of course, it is not going to get me up either...

A politician is supposed to answer to their people. This person who represents us. This person goes and spends our money in the way we choose for them. How could I ever trust anyone who is pulled in so many different directions?

Alfred E. Neuman for President. It makes that much sense.

This person aligns closely with my ideals. I like the way Mr Neuman votes on all the issues except he does not care much for the Swamp Thing. If only he cared more for the Swamp Thing. And when I shake Alfred's hand, he looks me in the eye and says that he will take care of the Swamp Thing.

So then we vote in Fred Flintstone and he gets up there and starts to do the congressional or gubernatorial thing. I am sure some people are fascinated by the way politics works, but these people are human. They are going to go to Washington and be influenced by the people there. My influence does not matter anymore, because now Fred sees new people that he has to deal with. Barney Rubble's concerns are now taken over by Senator Spacely.

It's like a referee at a game. I am going to be fair. I see only what the fouls are. Nothing else. The crowd does not influence me at all. I have integrity. I-I-I (blow whistle for the charge) I'm not sure if that was a foul or not. It looked like a foul. Something had to be called. There was a lot of contact. That one may not have been a foul either. Oh well. I'm supposed to make calls. I cannot swallow my whistle. These people hate me.

I guess it just takes a certain type of person. Unfortunately, I don't like those types of people.

Can you honestly say you would feel comfortable shaking hands with any politician? She looked me right in the eye and I knew she was for real.

And I am sure that when all the fuss is over, they are fairly normal people. They have barbeques and watch Netflix just like anyone.

But even the really political people are tough to handle. The sycophants that just get worked up. They wear those styrofoam hats and they are holding those signs up until all hours of the night. It's not human. They are in a frenzy when it comes to their hot button issues. They should have robots gathering up people's votes. 

And I just sit back and think: Yeah. I guess that is a good idea. I was taught something else, but I suppose that could work. I guess I like the ideas. The ideas seem to be much better than the people. Unfortunately, we can't elect ideas. We elect people and watch them screw up the ideas.

Free Food

What is it about free food? I am nearing fifty years old and yet I still get tremendously excited at the prospect of free food. I sort of count down to it. I look on my calendar and like a child waiting for Christmas, I just cannot wait.

I know how to make my own food. I even know how to make it taste good. And I am able to make multiple things at once. I mean I think it tastes good. 

Of course, when contemplating free food that is bad for me, there is a lot of bargaining going on. Take pizza for instance. There I am meticulously removing the toppings from the cheese. I spend more effort doing that than I would just making my own sandwich. What is wrong with me? 

It's free food. I need to make the best of it. That is what I am telling myself.

Is it because I am lazy? I am, but I don't know if that is it.

I think there is something very pleasant about not having to be involved in the process. Having to decide what to eat can be so burdensome. Can someone else just decide everything for me? Can I just show up and eat? I can arrive without much effort. I can wait in line for a bit, which still sucks, but at least the decisions have all been made for me. And then I do not have to pay for it. All I have to do is smile, say thank you and shovel food into my mouth.

I guess there is something else to it. If the free food is basic hot dogs or McDonald's hamburgers, I suppose I do have to draw the line. I am still human after all. That kind of free food is a bit below the standard. Kind of like a dog waiting at the table for his owner to throw him some scraps.

It's not all free food then. It's more like free food from people who are really good at making food choices. Someone who has made it their job to provide the best possible meal to me and some other possible recipients. I guess we are still talking about Mom...

Oh, I Know Go. Boy, I Know Go!

Recently, I was speaking to a couple millennials and they did not know who Oingo Boingo was. This is perfectly understandable as Oingo Boingo were kind of a Southern California band. They did not really have a huge following outside of there and that seemed to be mainly because when they toured, they didn't go worldwide. They kept it pretty local. I remember they would do a Halloween show in Hollywood or somewhere and that was pretty much it.

But they did have a following. And it seemed that most everyone I knew were familiar with them and really enjoyed their sound. It consisted of a sort of artistic, new wave style with a horn section, keyboards, guitar, drums. Lots of instruments and a lead singer whose last name was Elfman. He had red hair, very white skin and seemed kind of elf-like.

The cool thing about OIngo Boingo was that they had a sort of edginess to them. They were mocking the establishment, but not in a typical liberal way. "There's nothing wrong with capitalism. There's nothing wrong with the free enterprise." And "Hey there, Johnny Boy. I hope you fry!" But then they did mock the military too with "Tiny soldiers with tiny brains. Little bullets flowing in their veins." 

What Oingo Boingo did for me in high school was help me make the transition from pop music to something else. They were a great something else type band. I could get into them without feeling like my parents were going to be worried I was listening to the wrong kind of music. (My Dad actually owned Only a Lad a few years before I knew who they were.) 

But as I listened to them, I started to feel like this could definitely qualify as the wrong kind of music. "This is my private life. Come and get me out of here." "Wild sex in the working class." "The girls look really cute. They really make it work. They think I'm just a jerk." Of course, I was still pretty young to even know what they were talking about, but what I did know was that it was cool. It wasn't mainstream. It was artistic. It was fun. And you could probably mosh to it.

So now, fast forward to today. How do I introduce Oingo Boingo to a crowd that is not searching for this kind of rebelliousness? All that can stand is the music. The argument and artistic expression is somewhat minimal. They didn't have a ton of videos. But honestly, that was all I had as well. I just bought the albums and listened to the songs over and over again. And if that doesn't hold up now, I guess nothing will.

Start out with Only a Lad. Then, move on to Nothing to Fear. Good For Your Soul and Dead Man's Party. Subsequent albums were good too, but different. These main four are the core for me.

This is what I think should be done with most bands. Go back to the beginning. Go back to their earliest releases. I hated the Rolling Stones until I heard their earliest stuff. After that, I could appreciate them. "I am waiting." B-52s also. Their first 3 albums are so great. "She came from Planet Clairrrrre." "Has anybody seen a dog dyed dark green?" Red Hot Chili Peppers too. "Mommy! Where's Daddy?"  

The popular songs for a band are rarely who the band is. It takes research. And work. Sometimes I find myself just going to youtube now and getting a very superficial look and listen to a band. I know I am cheating myself. I know the right way. I was taught the right way... 

One Can Only Go Solo

We went and saw Solo. My joke was that we were going to find out that his real name was Hank Solinski. I saw it and enjoyed it. Mostly a fun movie. 

But that's just me. I saw the original Star Wars, before it was A New Hope, in 1977. I was hooked. I loved it. But I was also five. I think I loved Sesame Street, Welcome Back Kotter, and Mr Rogers. My parents could have thrown anything at me at five and I would have loved it. 

People tell me now that they hate Star Wars. I hate them. But I cannot really defend it. It was like my first car. I'll always love that. Sure it broke down on the freeway a couple times. Maximum speed was 50 mph. Gas gauge didn't work. When I started it, the starter would miss the flywheel and make this awful grinding sound, but I loved my International Scout.

Star Wars and me are like soulmates. I couldn't say no to Solo. And I definitely could not say no to Ron Howard. I knew he was going to get Clint in there. It is like the Alfred Hitchcock or Stan Lee cameos. Clint Howard is a staple.

The guy who played Solo wasn't very Han Solo-ish. Kind of looked like him, but basically, it wasn't really him. And there was no way it could be.

And that brings me to this: Why? What was the point? Were they sitting around in a room thinking about all the different possible Star Wars movies?

1. How about a story revolving around the Cantina? We could have it be like Cheers. And different folks come in and out. We could make it a trilogy. The Cantina Trilogy...

2. How about the prequel to the prequels? It could be the years from Anakin's birth to when he turned ten years old and Qui-Gonn and Obi Wan and Jar Jar come in and change his life forever.

3. How about a remake of A New Hope and have George Lucas lookalikes play all the characters in the movie?

Each one of these makes as much sense to me as doing the Han Solo origin story. They didn't even go that far back. It's an origin story, but we are only going to show him five years before he showed up in A New Hope. Those were very formative years though. Everything he references in the other movies happened in this span...

Why not show him as a 6 year old kid travelling around with his costumed mates picking pockets for a living? Or show him cruising around in his go-cart and after evading all the neighborhood bullies, he points to the sky and says: "Travelling through hyperspace ain't like dusting crops, boy!"

Disney is sitting there going: Alright, we've got Star Wars! Now what?! Let's just crank out as much as we can. That should work. And we don't need any new ideas. We'll just use what worked before and go with that.

But alas, I am still five years old. They got me. They could throw up Ewok adventures and Holiday Specials and Jar Jar origin stories and I am in.

Sleeping In My Clothes

There are lots of good reasons for sleeping in my clothes. Maybe I was trying to stay up all night watching tv or reading a book. Maybe I was out partying all night long. Or I could have been out helping Doc Brown with one of his time travel experiments. Perhaps I was out keeping a friend company all night. Or trying to pass a level on River Raid. Or just lost track of time. Whoa! There's time again.

But is there a really good excuse for doing it twice in one week? And sleeping in my bed in my street clothes? Under the covers even? With my belt on and socks? Not having brushed my teeth... Gross!

I was cold...

It is times like this when I feel like a failure. What am I doing wrong? How hard is it to change into pajamas and brush my teeth?

Perhaps there is a feeling inside that I am getting away with something. It is like I am ten years old and I am defying my parents. Ha ha! I got you. I went to bed without doing what I am supposed to. They would look at me with disappointment, but I would have this sort of self-satisfaction. I am sticking it to the man! Who says I have to obey the norms of society? Who was it that decided we had to sleep in comfy clothes and have fresh breath? In the morning, it's not fresh anyway.

In fact, I think I should start a new club. We could be the Clothes Sleepers. Meetings each week. We talk about how we ended up in there. What amazing circumstances led us to this feat. Post pictures on Instagram and Facebook. #ClothesSleepers.

I have to draw the line though on shoes. No shoes in bed. I do have my standards...